Lost Souls by J. Bishop (the giving tree read aloud txt) 📗

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet,” said Trick.

“It’s Marsha and Dennis,” said Dennis. “If you’re going to help Cissy through this, please call us by our first names.”

Trick stepped inside. “This is Mason Redstone. My former partner.”

Mason shook their hands, said his hellos, and noted their tired and worn faces. Dennis’ clothes bagged on him, too.

They went into the front room. “Can I get you something to drink?” asked Marsha, holding her sweater around her. “Tea or coffee?”

“Tea, please,” said Mason. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“I’ll take a coffee, black, if you’ve got it,” said Trick.

“Of course. It’s no trouble at all,” said Marsha. “We’ve purchased stock in coffee beans. Haven’t we, Dennis?”

Her husband chuckled. “The rate we’re going, we probably should.”

Marsha nodded. “Be right back.” She paused at the hallway. “I’ll let Cissy know you’re here.”

“Thanks,” said Trick.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming to help us out,” said Dennis. He sat in a big chair and wrung his hands. “The police here seem damned determined to prove Cissy did this.”

Mason and Trick sat on the couch across from Dennis. “I’m happy to help,” said Trick. “I know Cissy didn’t hurt Chad.” He gestured at Mason. “Red and I go back a ways, and we’ve been through a few rocky cases ourselves. We’ll figure out who did this.”

Mason listened, questioning whether or not they would, and wondered what Trick would tell this family if they couldn’t find a killer other than Cissy. As Dennis and Trick talked, he figured that would be Trick’s problem to handle.

“I understand you’re a private investigator?”

Mason looked over. “Yes. I am.” He decided it would be best to leave the paranormal part out. “After I left the Rangers, I came out here. My older brother had moved and loved it, plus there were a few other factors that made me take the leap.” He chose not to mention Victor.

“It’s quite the jump, going from Texas to California,” said Dennis. “And from a Ranger to a P.I.”

“It’s had its share of challenges,” said Mason, “but I don’t regret it.”

“I wasn’t too pleased with him,” said Trick. “And I’m still not.”

“You still with the Rangers?” asked Dennis.

Trick stilled and fiddled with a couch cushion. “No, sir. I’m not.”

“I’m surprised. Chad always talked about how much you loved it. I got the impression he idolized you a bit.”

Trick nodded.

“What made you leave?” asked Dennis.

Trick hesitated, and Mason waited for the answer, curious himself.

“Hey.”

They looked up, and Mason saw a pretty woman with long black hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, wearing jeans and an oversized shirt, standing just inside the room.

“Cissy,” said Dennis, standing. “Trick’s here.”

Trick rose from the couch. “Hey, Cissy. How are you?”

Cissy smiled and walked over. “Hey, Trick. It’s good to see you.”

The two hugged and Trick held her when she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you for coming,” whispered Cissy.

“Of course,” he said, pulling back. “I’m not going to let these assholes get away with this. It’s damn nonsense. I know you would never hurt Chad.”

Mason observed the young woman and tuned in, trying to get a read on her. Her energy was scattered and frail, and her body language denoted a woman on the edge, but was it because she was unfairly accused or trying to get away with murder?

A familiar tingle ran up his arms, and his hair raised. Mason closed his eyes, recognizing the pull of a spirit. Someone was here and trying to communicate.

“This is Mason Redstone. I told you about him on the phone. Red,” said Trick. “This is Cissy Howard.”

Mason opened his eyes, trying to stay focused on Cissy while a man materialized behind her. Mason held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry about your husband.”

Cissy took his hand. “Thank you. I appreciate you helping Trick. He said you were the best.”

Mason flicked a gaze at Trick, but then turned his attention back to the man behind Cissy. “He did, huh?” He tried not to react when he noticed the gaping wound in the man’s head, and Mason realized it was Chad. It wasn’t often a victim showed himself to Mason with their injuries intact. In his experience, that often meant that the victim had something unresolved regarding their death, and was trying to deliver a message.

“Hey, you in there?” asked Trick.

Mason blinked. “Sorry.” He focused on Cissy. “My mind wandered.” Trick raised a brow at him but Mason ignored it. “You mind talking to us about what happened?” He shot a glance at dead Chad, who stood quietly behind Cissy.

“You sure you’re all right?” Trick asked Cissy. “You need a minute?”

Cissy waved hand. “No. I’m okay. You came to help me. No point in making you wait.”

“You guys have a seat. I’ll go help Marsha,” said Dennis. He took Cissy’s hand. “I’ll get you some water.”

“Thanks, Dad,” said Cissy.

Dennis left the room, and Cissy took his seat while Trick and Mason returned to the couch. Dead Chad remained behind Cissy, but his gaze fell on Mason.

Mason interlaced his fingers. “Why don’t you tell us what happened that day, when you found Chad.”

Cissy sighed and wrung her hands, like her father had done. “Okay.”

“Take your time,” said Trick.

Mason listened as Cissy went through the sequence of events from the morning of Chad’s death, telling them how Chad had taken a day off from work, and she’d hoped they’d spend the day together, but Chad had wanted to stay home and watch TV. They’d argued, and Cissy, frustrated, had left the apartment, mainly because she was angry, and decided to go to the grocery store to give herself time to cool off. She’d come home an hour later, and Chad had been sitting on the couch with his back to her, with the TV blaring. She’d yelled at him to lower the volume, but he’d ignored her. That’s when she’d walked around to grab the remote and seen his injuries. She’d immediately called nine-one-one, and Chad had been