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

I studied him for a long moment. He seemed to crumble under the weight of my stare.

“Where’s the hammer?” I asked in a serious tone.

“In the red toolbox in my little shed. That’s where I picked it up when I got back home.”

“Do I have your permission to go to your house and retrieve it?”

He shrugged. “Sure. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“When I send it to the crime lab, will they find Ty’s blood on it?”

He started to say he hoped not, but caught himself. “No, sir. Ty’s blood is definitely not on my hammer.”

I asked him a few more questions, but his answers got me no closer to finding Ty or his mom’s killer. This made me think that if I found one, I’d find the other.

When I returned Logan to his trailer, his wife and babies were gone. I felt better about that. I didn’t want to disturb or alarm them.

Logan led me to the toolbox that contained the hammer he said he’d brought with him to Ty’s house. I collected it as evidence and asked to search the rest of his house. He gave his consent and I spent the next hour searching for evidence that might suggest he had something to do with Mrs. Richardson’s death or Ty’s disappearance. I found nothing.

“You’d better hope I don’t find Ty dead,” I said over my shoulder as I was leaving his house. “That won’t look good for you.”

He had followed me onto his front porch and I heard him stop dead in his tracks and gulp audibly. He turned quickly and tried to return inside, but cursed when he realized he’d locked himself outside.

  CHAPTER 34

When I left Logan’s house, I called Susan and she assured me she had the search well in hand. Thus, I drove to the crime lab to drop off the hammer. It was a little after three and I wanted to get it to them before they closed for the day.

As I drove, I realized how much I missed having Amy’s assistance, so I gave her a call.

“What’s up, Amy?” I asked when she answered. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Her voice was low, but she sounded better than she had the last time I’d talked to her. “I had my first session with the psychologist today.”

“Oh, really?” I asked. “The one from California?”

“Yeah, they’re doing a lot of online therapy nowadays, which means they can see patients from anywhere in the country, as long as they’re licensed in that state.” She sighed. “It made it so much easier for me, because she’s far away and I know I won’t run into her in the grocery store or something.”

“Do you like her?”

“Yeah, I do.” Her voice seemed to grow stronger as she talked. “I wasn’t expecting anything out of the first session, but I actually walked away feeling encouraged. She made me realize that what I’m experiencing is totally normal—that I’m not going crazy. For a moment there, I thought I was losing it. I saw my entire career getting flushed down the toilet. If I can’t drive, I can’t work. I mean, can you imagine having to get a ride everywhere you go? I need some milk…call a friend. I need to get my hair cut…call a cab. I need to know what things were like during the Old Testament…call Clint Wolf.”

Her last statement was so unexpected I choked on my tongue with laughter. Before the ambush, she had taken great pleasure in ribbing me about my age. While I would still be thirty-six for another five months, Amy had started teasing me about being old when I pretended not to notice my last birthday—not because I was concerned about creeping up on forty, but because I didn’t like the attention. To hear her make the joke made me extremely happy. She sounded like her old self again.

“I’m much more optimistic now,” she continued. “The psychologist told me that if driving was my main trigger, then I should be content to ride shotgun for a while. She said she would teach me some techniques to help deal with the trauma, and she said she’s confident I’ll be driving again in no time.”

“I’m so happy to hear that.” I was still grinning wide, filled with joy over the news. “Take whatever time you need.”

“Yeah, and you’d better not replace me,” she warned. “I don’t want to have to kick somebody’s ass.”

“I can’t replace you—I need you!” I went on to bring her up to speed on the case. When I was done, I asked if she had any thoughts.

“You couldn’t hold Logan?”

“No.” I sighed. “The fingerprint just proves he was there, it doesn’t prove he hurt Mrs. Richardson. We’re not even sure she was hurt. It could’ve been an accident.”

“What about arresting him for burglary?”

“I thought about it, but I wouldn’t be able to prove he made an unauthorized entry, and I also wouldn’t be able to prove his reason for being there.”

She was thoughtful. “What about following him to see if he leads you to Ty?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” I tapped the steering wheel as I drove. “We don’t have the manpower for it—unless I called the sheriff’s office for help.”

“Scratch that,” she suddenly said. “Ty’s dead. And there’s no way Logan would be dumb enough to return to the body.”

I drove for a long moment without saying a word. I didn’t want to believe it. Ty was such a good person. If something bad had happened to him, he certainly wouldn’t have understood what was going on or why it was happening. I still wasn’t ready to rule out Neal Barlow, and I said as much to Amy.

“No, I agree fully,” she said. “That slick bastard would be top of my list.”

“You really think he’s dead?”