But Not For Lust

by BJ Bourg

  “What about Mrs. Richardson?”

  “She didn’t see her or talk to her.”

  I had gone back to interviewing neighbors after Susan and I talked, and hadn’t stopped until now. As I had moved from house to house, I had written down the addresses of the places where no one was home and I’d put asterisks next to those house numbers. This would serve as a reminder for me to come back later and speak with these residents.

  Just as I reached my Tahoe, I saw headlights turn off of Main Street and onto Orange Way. Hoping it was Logan Pitre, I stood in the driveway and waited.

  I didn’t have to wait long.

  As soon as the truck reached the driveway across the street, it turned in and the driver shut off the engine. I was making my way across the street as the door opened.

  “Logan?” I asked, still a few steps from the driveway. “I’m Clint Wolf. I’m a detective with the police department.”

  The man stopped gathering up his belongings from inside the truck and twisted around in his seat, frantically trying to search the darkness to see from where the voice had come.

  I waved so he could see me. “I’m a detective with the Mechant Loup Police Department.”

  He sighed heavily and sank onto his seat for a moment, the fear evident in his body language.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Oh, man, you scared the shit out of me!” Logan Pitre said as he straightened from his truck. He closed the door and simultaneously hit the lock button on the door panel. He shifted the eyeglasses on his nose to see me better. “I didn’t know who you were at first.”

  “I’m sorry for startling you.” I handed him a business card, remembering how I was dressed. “Your wife told me you witnessed something involving Ty Richardson on Friday night. I was hoping you could tell me more about it.”

  Logan was about an inch taller than my five-ten, but he was a little heavier than me. He had dark hair and brown, squinty eyes, and his gut was working hard to find the ultimate tensile strength of the buttons on his uniform shirt. He turned in the direction of Ty’s camper and shook his head.

  “I don’t really know what was going on and it happened so fast.” As he spoke, his fuzzy mustache moved up and down like a caterpillar riding a seesaw. “I listen to audio books on my phone when I drive to and from work. I work on the river. It’s more than an hour one way, so I get to listen to two hours of books each day. Anyway, I was already in bed and something woke me up. I don’t know what it was, but I reached for my cell phone to check the time and I realized I’d forgotten it in my truck.”

  Logan stopped long enough to turn and indicate the cup holder phone mount through the window of his truck. It was dark, but thanks to the street lights behind us, I could see his large iPhone resting there.

  “We’re forced to keep it locked in our vehicles at work,” he explained, “so I’m always forgetting it in my truck when I get home.”

  I nodded, wanting to hurry him along, but I resisted the urge to say anything.

  “Um, so I snuck out of bed and I came out here to get it—like I’ve done a million times before—and I heard someone talking from the road.” He indicated the middle of the street that stretched between his house and Ty’s camper. “I looked and saw Ty on his hands and knees. He was staring at the road and talking to himself. I couldn’t hear everything he was saying, but I heard a word here and there.”

  “What kind of words did you hear?”

  “Well, he said something about a soldier and caterpillar tracks or something. And he called out his mom’s name—it’s Carol—and he said something about snipers, I think. Yeah, I’m pretty sure he said the word snipers.” Logan shook his head. “I didn’t know what any of it meant. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I opened my door real quiet and grabbed my phone. I eased it closed and it made a loud click. Ty turned to look in my direction, but I don’t think he could see me in the dark. I was scared, so I didn’t move until he looked away.”

  “Why were you scared?” I asked with a scowl. “Has Ty ever done anything that made you feel uncomfortable?”

  “I mean, he was sitting in the middle of the road talking to himself—isn’t that reason enough to be scared? That’s definitely not normal behavior. And I have a wife and two babies inside the trailer, so I didn’t want any trouble.”

  I quickly nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. So, what happened next?”

  “When he looked away, I tiptoed back to the steps. I was about to open the door to go inside when I heard a car coming fast from the back of the street.” He shook his head. “People are always speeding down this street. When my girls are old enough to walk, I think we’re gonna move. It’s just too dangerous. Anyway, the car was coming so fast that I thought it would run right over Ty. I wanted to go inside and not be a party to anything—I mean, I had to be at work early yesterday morning—but I didn’t want him to get killed, so I hollered at him to look out, that a car was coming.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He jumped up and looked right at me,” Logan said. “That’s when the driver must’ve seen Ty, because the car screeched to a stop. That’s when Ty saw the car for the first time. He slapped the hood of the car and screamed really loud at the driver. It was so loud, in fact, that I thought it would wake up everyone in town, but Joselyn was sound asleep when I went back to bed.”

  “Did he utter any words when he screamed?” I asked. “Or was he just making noise?”

  “No, he said some things, but it was hard to understand everything he said. I think he thought the car was an army tank and he thought they were trying to kill him.”

  “What did the driver do?”

  Logan shook his head. “I don’t know. I ran inside, locked the door, and went to bed. Like I said, I had to go to work early yesterday morning. Besides, I didn’t want any part of what was about to happen.”

  “What do you think was about to happen?”

  He shrugged. “Who knows? Ty slapped that car pretty hard. I imagine any man would’ve been mad at someone for hitting his car that loud, and he might’ve wanted to fight with Ty. I didn’t want to be a witness to anything crazy like that.”

  “So, the driver was a man?”

  Logan’s squinty eyes narrowed even more. “You know what? I don’t even know. I didn’t see the driver, but I naturally assumed it was a man.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I guess because it was so late at night and I wouldn’t want my wife driving around that late.”

  “What kind of car was it?”

  “I don’t know that either.” He shook his head. “I’m not good with cars and it was dark. It was definitely a car and not a truck, but I didn’t even notice if it had two doors or four and I don’t remember what color it was.”

  “Do you remember if the color was dark or light?”

  “Um…I think it was a lighter color, because I don’t remember it being dark.”

  “Did you recognize the car?” I pressed. “Like, do you think the driver lives down this street?”

  “If they do, I’ve never seen the car before.” He quickly lifted a hand. “And that doesn’t mean they don’t live here, because most of the people on this street are renters—us included—and people come and go. I can’t keep up with my neighbors anymore, especially those who live toward the back of the street.”

  “And what time was this?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but it was definitely after two in the morning, because I remember thinking I only had a couple of hours left to sleep, so I wasn’t too happy.”

  “What about last night?” I asked. “Did you hear or see anything suspicious from across the street last night?”

  He was thoughtful. “No, I don’t remember hearing anything. I did get up to use the bathroom, but I don’t know if something woke me up or not. I know I didn’t hear anything once I was up.”

  “Did you have to come out here and get your cell phone again last night?”

  “To be honest, I wa
s scared shitless after Friday night.” He paused and quickly checked over his shoulder. I figured it was to make sure his wife wasn’t listening. “After the way he looked at me Friday night”—Logan shook his head—“I would’ve left my phone sitting out there all night.”

  I absently hoped his wife was capable of defending herself and her babies in case an intruder invaded their home, because it didn’t look like he would do much good.

  Dismissing the thought, I indicted Ty’s camper. “Did you notice the mess on the driveway when you left for work this morning?”

  “Oh, no,” he said with a shake of the head. “It’s dark when I leave in the morning. I didn’t see anything over there.”

  “Did you notice the door to the camper was open?” I pressed. “The lights were still on, so you should’ve been able to see that at night.”

  He scowled. “I usually see the lights on across the street in the mornings when I leave, but I don’t remember noticing that the door was open.

  I sighed. He’d been helpful, but I had hoped for more information—like the name of a suspect. After asking a few more questions, I thanked him for his help. As I turned away and headed back toward Ty’s house, I heard Logan curse as he tried to open his truck door, apparently forgetting he had locked it earlier.

  I snickered to myself, but my amusement quickly turned to dread as I considered what I knew—or didn’t know—so far about the case. I couldn’t help but think that this was gonna be a long week.

  CHAPTER 12

  Five thirty came especially early the next morning. Sure, it arrived at the same time every day, but it sure felt like it had arrived a few hours earlier than usual, thanks to how late I had gotten home last night.

  “You’re up early,” Susan said from the bathroom when she heard me stirring. “I thought you’d at least sleep until six-thirty and rush out of here for the autopsy.”

  Still half asleep, I rubbed my face and rolled to a seated position on the bed, trying to remember where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. I remembered sitting in my Tahoe on Orange Way until about midnight, when Baylor showed up and offered to watch for Ty. After going home from his shift for several hours, he had decided to drive by the house to see if anything was moving.

  “I’m off tomorrow and Tuesday,” he had offered, “so it’s no problem.”

  Our patrol officers worked twelve-hour shifts, so when they worked a Friday-Saturday-Sunday rotation, they were off for two days, came back for two days, and then had the following weekend off.

  “What about Amy?” I had asked. “What if she needs you?”

  “You know Amy.” He had flashed a wide grin. “Does she ever need anyone?”

  After leaving Baylor, I had driven to the police department and arranged to have the sheriff’s office send out a BOLO for all of their deputies to be on the look-out for Ty, and then I’d faxed a picture of Ty to the local newspapers and radio stations, asking that they publish the information to the public requesting their help in locating him. I’d labeled him Missing and Possibly Endangered, hoping that might prompt the community to take the search for him more seriously.

  Once those things were done, I had cruised around town for two more hours looking for Ty. I had even driven to Otter’s Tail Campground north of town and searched all the trails, tent pads, and camping hookups. The last time I’d heard from Ty, he had been wandering around the campground talking to an imaginary person, so I thought there was a real possibility I’d find him out there. Unfortunately, the campground was empty.

  It was after leaving the campground and returning to Mechant Loup that I had run into Takecia Gayle at Cig’s Gas Station, which was located north of town and just south of the Mechant Loup Bridge..

  Takecia was one of Susan’s patrol officers and also her former training partner from back when Susan was a cage fighter. Originally on the day shift, Takecia had begun working nights when Amy transferred to the detective bureau.

  “What are you doing crawling around at night, Clint?” she had asked in her thick Jamaican accent when I’d pulled up beside her at the fuel pump and buzzed down my window. Her parents were from Jamaica and, although this was the only country she had ever called home, she had picked up their colorful accent. “Still looking for that rascal, Ty?”

  I had told her I was and she had scowled.

  “You need to get home to your beautiful bride,” she’d said. “I’ll keep a look out for Ty. I saw Baylor at the house earlier. Between him and me, we’ll look out for him. You need some rest.”

  “Do I look that bad?”

  She had grinned—exposing a row of perfect teeth—and said, “I will not incriminate myself, Detective Wolf.”

  Shortly thereafter, I had driven home and showered for bed. I remembered Susan stirring when I had slipped under the covers beside her, but if we talked, I couldn’t remember what was said.

  Now, I remembered that I had to attend Carol Richardson’s autopsy and then drive some evidence to the crime lab first thing this morning. This revelation brought me wide awake.

  I tromped to the bathroom, rubbed Susan’s rump as I walked by, and began brushing my teeth. She patted me back and told me we could have a conversation if I didn’t have to leave in such a hurry. I groaned, staring at her with tortured eyes, my mouth full of toothpaste foam.

  When I spat and rinsed, I said, “We can make it quick.”

  She gave me a mischievous grin. “When are we ever quick?”

  I groaned again. After hurrying into some green slacks and a tan Polo shirt that had the department badge embroidered on the left breast and my name on the right side, I sat on a bench in the room and pulled on my boots.

  Susan was already dressed in her uniform, but she hadn’t put on her gun belt yet. I slipped my Blackhawk holster into my pants, secured my Beretta 9 mm inside, and followed my beautiful wife down the stairs.

  Grace was still sleeping and Susan’s mom was due to arrive at any minute to babysit. Her mom and my mom took turns watching Grace, and that enabled Susan and me to both work the same shift. Were it not for our mothers, we’d have to figure something out—just like most two-income families had to.

  Achilles and Coco sprang from a corner of the living room and raced to meet us when we reached the landing. After greeting them, we prepared breakfast and I ate mine in a hurry. Before long, I was out the door and heading for the coroner’s office. I called Baylor as I turned onto Main Street and headed north.

  “Nothing, eh?”

  “Nope. Not a peep.”

  “Thanks,” I said gratefully. “I’ll ask Regan to make extra passes down the street throughout her shift today.”

  Regan Steed was Susan’s newest patrol officer. A long-time friend of Amy’s, she had moved here from Tellico Plains, Tennessee when her husband got transferred to our area for work.

  When I ended the call with Baylor, I contacted Regan and explained everything that had happened thus far. She said she’d keep an eye out for Ty and she also asked about Amy. After telling her what I knew, we ended the call and I raced to the coroner’s office.

  As I would’ve guessed, Dr. Louise Wong was there early and she was about to make the first cut on the Y incision on Carol’s chest when I entered the room. She looked up and smiled through the clear shield she wore.

  “Good morning, Clint,” she said warmly. “I was hoping you’d get here before I was finished. What’s the story with this poor lady?”

  I told her what I knew. I left out my suppositions regarding the cause of death, because she was the expert and she might find something about which I wasn’t aware. There were cases that appeared one way externally, but once the pathologist opened up the body, they found something entirely different. As fate would have it, that didn’t happen in this case.

  Two hours later, Dr. Wong was done and she allowed me to obtain major case prints from Mrs. Richardson. The process involved obtaining an inked impression of every bit of ridge detail on an individual’s hands, and it
was time-consuming. When I finally finished, Dr. Wong waved for her assistant to sew up the body.

  “She was a very healthy woman for her age,” she said as she removed her gloves. She then recounted her findings, most of which included words I couldn’t spell, let along understand. However, I did understand enough to know Mrs. Richardson had died of a traumatic brain injury.

  “So, do you think it’s possible she accidentally fell onto her back and fractured her skull?” I asked, studying her carefully. Her answer could mean the difference between a homicide and an accidental death.

  “While it’s definitely possible to fall hard enough to fracture your skull,” she began slowly, “this injury was so severe that I’d have to believe she was either pushed really hard or struck across the back of the head with a blunt object. Her skull was crushed, Clint. While my official determination with regard to the manner of death will be listed as Undetermined, I would unofficially lean more toward this being a homicide. Bring me more evidence and I’ll be able to say for certain one way or the other.”

  I thanked her and didn’t hang around to visit. I had to drive to the city of La Mort and then get back to Mechant Loup as quickly as possible. In order to get some answers, I would have to locate Ty. The only problem was that I had no idea where to start looking for the man.

  “He’s unpredictable,” I said wryly to myself, “which means his movements can’t be predicted.”

  CHAPTER 13

  It was almost noon when I drove over the bridge that separated the town of Mechant Loup from the rest of the world. I was glad to be back. While I never minded taking long drives, I certainly had better things to do with my time today. Thankfully, I had a friend at the crime lab who’d always looked out for me.

  When I’d arrived at the lab a little over an hour ago, Tracy Dinger had met me in the lobby with an intake officer and had instructed him to process my evidence right away. She promised she’d have something for me soon, especially with regard to the fingerprints I’d recovered from the door knobs of Ty’s camper and the shed.