But Not For Lust BJ Bourg (top novels to read txt) 📖

“I know you’re armed and you have every right to be,” I said with a wave.

“Um, should I pick it up?”

“It’s your house,” I said simply. “You can do whatever the hell you want with it.”

He nodded slowly and moved his hand. In it, he held a Smith and Wesson Model 29 .44 Magnum revolver with a three-inch barrel. It was a sweet hand cannon, and I said so.

“I love it,” he said with a smile while shoving it in the front waistband of his jeans. “It’s the infant of Dirty Harry’s revolver.”

I’d never heard it called that, but the description certainly fit.

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” I said, “but I noticed you had cameras on your boat shed.”

“I have cameras everywhere.” He shifted his head in the direction of the boat launch. “With a public boat launch across the street, we get all kinds of visitors to the neighborhood. Most of the people just want to go fishing or visit their camps, but we also get thieves looking for shit to steal.”

“Don’t I know it?” I shook my head. I’d never been a fan of thieves. “There’s also been some drug activity at the launch, so I was hoping to get a look at your eastward facing camera. I’m trying to verify if someone gave drugs to a guy name Ty Richardson.”

“Ty’s on drugs?” He asked the question in animated fashion, and the grains of cooked rice dislodged from his beard, bounced off of his shirt, and fell to the ground. “I knew he was a little off, but I didn’t think it was from using drugs.”

“No, it’s not from drug use,” I explained. “He’s been battling mental illness for most of his adult life, but someone recently came into his life and turned him onto crystal meth. The combination just can’t be good for him.”

“That shit is ruining our country!” He waved for me to follow him inside. “Come on in. I’ll show you my monitor. It’s been a while since I downloaded anything, so I probably don’t remember how to operate the dang thing. If you know how to work it, I’m okay with you doing it yourself. Name’s Beard, by the way—Sam Beard.”

I wanted to ask if he had been named after his beard or if he had grown into his name, but I refrained.

When he led the way through the kitchen, he stopped and pointed toward the table, where a woman was seated—a bowl of chicken stew before her. She smiled when she looked up. It was a pleasant smile.

“You can have supper with us, if you want,” he offered. “We’ve got a pot full of stew and it’s just the two of us. Our youngest left for college two years ago and the oldest has been living in Florida for three years, but we still haven’t learned how to cook for two yet.”

I thanked him, but declined the offer and apologized for interrupting their meal. “I can come back later,” I said quickly. “I’ve been working all day and didn’t realize it was dinnertime.”

“Nonsense.” He waved for me to follow him down a long hallway. “It’s only food and I get plenty of it. As you can probably tell, I don’t miss too many meals.” He stopped and cocked his head to the side. “Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’ve ever missed a meal in my life.”

We stepped into a small room—it seemed more like an enlarged closet—on the right side of the hallway. He pointed to a desk. It was positioned under a large monitor that was mounted on the far wall.

“This is where I keep the camera. Feel free to step into the driver’s seat if you know what you’re doing.”

I had operated many surveillance systems during the course of my career, and they were all pretty simplistic. With a nod, I took a seat and grabbed the mouse. After entering the code he provided, I sought out the correct camera and accessed the playback feature.

“The time’s wrong,” he said. “I used to adjust it for daylight savings, but I haven’t done it in years. I don’t know if it’s ahead or behind anymore.”

I compared the current time on the display screen to the time on my phone and realized it was an hour behind. Armed with this information, I started viewing the footage from the boat launch, beginning with Friday. Although Rhonda hadn’t mentioned a meeting between Ty and J-Rock on Friday, there had been an incident out at his house that night, so I wanted to see if he had access to drugs prior to almost being hit by the car Logan described.

As I watched the footage in fast speed, I wondered why no one on Orange Way had cameras on their homes. I had checked every single house down that street while I was canvassing the neighborhood, but hadn’t located a single camera.

I suddenly reached forward and clicked the Pause icon when I recognized a car pulling into the parking area of the boat launch—it was Rhonda’s.

“Is that the drug dealer’s car?” Sam asked.

I nodded and watched as it parked near an oak tree and waited. After about twenty minutes, Ty appeared in the camera’s view from the east and approached the car. The window slid down and I recognized J-Rock in the driver’s seat. He and Ty talked for a minute, he handed a leather satchel to Ty, and then he pointed to the pier. Ty walked to the pier and sat on a wooden bench near the water.

“I see Ty sitting on that bench all the time,” Sam said, “but I’ve only seen that car a few times. What’s he doing there?”

I didn’t answer. I was too angry about what was about to happen on camera. Sure enough,