Read Online The Devil's Snare: a Mystery Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thrillers Book 4) by T Patrick Phelps - Free Book Online Page A

that while neither she nor Derek suspected Louis Randall to have played a role in the arson, they were still curious why he was so quick to rush to working out a plea with the DA and not trying to find out if someone was indeed framing his son.
    “I don’t suppose you met with the DA or the sheriff’s office?” Bo asked.
    “They usually won’t meet with private investigators. So, no, we haven’t met with them.”
    “Well, do you know all the evidence they have against me? I mean, shit, if it wasn’t me in this situation, I’d say I did the crime.”
    “Let’s start there, okay? With the evidence they have pinning you to the arson. Tell me everything they have on you.”
    It didn’t take Bo long to go over the key incriminating evidence. As he detailed the case against him, Nikkie noticed that Bo seemed to be utterly distant. Like he was recalling details about a book he had read several years ago. To Nikkie, Bo seemed totally lost. “You’re saying everything like it’s all foreign to you. Yet, and pardon me for saying this, every bit of evidence puts you in the perpetrator’s position. Every last thing.”
    “That’s because I can’t remember anything about the whole night. I mean, I remember going out to dinner, drinking a few beers…”
    “More than a few, Boregard. More than a few,” Crown interjected.
    Displaying the first bit of emotion, Bo snapped at Crown, saying, “Let’s not start that again, mom. I drink, yes, so sue me.”
    “Don’t take that tone with me,” Crown fired back. “You drink way too much. That’s what got you into this shit-mess in the first place.”
    Nikkie raised her hands to calm Crown and Bo, and continued. “Okay, so all you can remember is going out to eat, drinking a few beers then waking up the next morning. Correct?”
    “And sitting on a three-inch Buck knife. I remember that pretty fucking clearly.”
    “The knife the police say you purchased and you taped to the inside of your couch?”
    “The one and only,” Bo said. “Want to see the hole in my ass it left?”
    “Not necessary.”  
    Over the next thirty minutes, Bo shared everything he could remember about the night of the fire, about his relationship with Brian Mack, the fire department and everything else he felt might, in some way, make sense of everything. He shared his theories, most of which were too bizarre for even him to give any credence to. But a few sparked Nikkie’s interest.
    “So,” Nikkie started, “you admit to using cocaine on a very occasional basis and you’re certain that your most recent acquisition of cocaine should have lasted you several months?”
    “I’m not proud of using the shit,” Bo said, throwing a sideways glance at Crown. “I’m far from being addicted to the stuff, so I really have no reason why I buy it and why I use it. But I know the last score I made should have lasted me through the summer and probably into fall.”
    “But the bag of cocaine you say you kept in your office safe was not only laying out in full view on your desk, but was practically gone?” Nikkie confirmed.
    “Hardly enough left for one line,” Bo said.
    “Your last score? Enough for one line? Bo, you may not believe you’re an addict, but you sure as hell talk like one.” Crown knew her son had a problem with alcohol and she long suspected that beer proved to be a gateway drug for Bo. But hearing   her only child talking casually about a drug as dangerous and as addictive as cocaine, was becoming more than she could handle. “That shit will mess with your mind, make you do things you normally would never do.” Crown stood, grabbed Bo by both shoulders, and said directly to his face, “You look me right in the eye and tell me if you did drugs the day of the fire? And God help you if you say you don’t remember. Tell me, Bo. Tell me the truth!” Her voice bordered on screaming.
    While the words never came out of his mother’s mouth, her saying that cocaine can make