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

up. I went and I saw Chad arguing with a woman. I couldn’t hear everything they were saying, but it was obvious he was telling her something she didn’t like. I walked over, and they instantly stopped talking, and he acted like it was some sort of business issue and she just stood there frozen, and then said something like, ‘you’ll regret it’ before she stomped off.” Cissy paused. “I knew then my suspicions were accurate. Chad returned to the picnic, acting as if it was no big deal.”

Mason took a swig of his tea and warmth slid down his throat. “Did you make a comment on social media on one of the pictures posted from the picnic?”

Cissy put her tea down with a bang. “I sure as hell did. I wanted that woman to know I knew. I wanted her to know that whatever was going on between her and Chad was over.” She sat back. “But I also didn’t want to expose Chad and make it messy at work, or make it embarrassing for all of us. ‘I see you’ seemed enough to get my point across, and she’d know it was meant for her.”

Dead Chad didn’t move, but continued to watch. Mason wished he could speak with the man, but couldn’t do it with Cissy and Trick in the room. Mason’s acceptance in their circle would likely change once he started talking to the dead out loud.

“You didn’t see this woman again after that?” asked Trick. He drank some coffee. “No more contact?”

“No,” said Cissy, shifting in her seat. “Once I confirmed she worked with Chad, I talked to Chad’s assistant, Daphne, and found out the woman’s name was Lydia Stanford. I tried looking her up online just to see what I could learn about her, but that’s it.” She played with the seam on the chair. “And I checked Chad’s phone, but didn’t find anything. The detectives said he may have had a second phone.” She snickered. “Can you believe that?”

“Did they find another phone?” asked Mason.

Cissy shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t hear about it if they did.”

“We should ask about that,” said Trick. “Find out what these detectives think they know.”

Mason agreed. “If they did find a phone, and there’s evidence Chad did have an affair, then that doesn’t help Cissy. It gives her a motive. It doesn’t help that the woman’s dead, either.”

Cissy’s jaw fell. “Why? You think they’ll try and pin her death on me, too?” Her eyes widened. “How did she die?”

“Drowned. In a pool,” said Trick. “There was no indication of foul play though.”

“You don’t know that,” said Mason.

“If they were going to arrest Cissy for Lydia Stanford’s death,” said Trick, “they would have done it already.”

“You don’t know that either,” said Mason. He regarded Cissy. “You need to tell your attorney everything you’ve told us, and if the cops want to talk to you about Lydia Stanford, you don’t say a word without your lawyer present.”

Cissy’s face paled. “You really think I could be a suspect?”

“You had motive. They’ll definitely investigate, and if we found your comment online, so will they,” said Mason. “And if you did an online search on her name, they’ll find that too.”

“Oh, God,” said Cissy.

“All of that proves nothing, and if that’s all they have, no prosecutor worth his salt would take on that case.” Trick picked up the flask and added more whiskey to his coffee. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s focus on Chad.” He offered the flask to Cissy and Mason, but they each declined and he returned it to the table.

“But it begs the question, doesn’t it?” asked Cissy. “Did someone kill Lydia? Isn’t it a little coincidental that she and Chad both die within weeks of each other?”

Mason wondered about that while dead Chad swiped at the blood on his head and wiped it on his pants, leaving a red smear. “It is interesting.” He looked away and swirled his tea. “I’d like to know why Chad stayed home the day he died and didn’t want to go out. Who takes a day off just to watch TV?”

“You think he was avoiding someone?” asked Trick. He reached for the coffee pot. “It wasn’t Lydia, because she was already dead.” He added coffee to his mug.

“That’s something to ask about when we talk to Chad’s co-workers,” said Mason.

Cissy sat up and tucked a leg beneath her. “Could someone from Chad’s work have done this?”

Mason sensed dead Chad’s anxiety. Was Chad trying to tell Mason something? Mason tried to stay focused on Cissy. “I’m sorry to ask this, but could there have been someone else? Another woman other than Lydia?”

“Or was Lydia involved with someone?” asked Trick. “Maybe from work? And that person went after her, and then Chad?”

Dead Chad began to pace behind Cissy’s chair, and Mason found it difficult not to get distracted.

“Are the detectives on my case going to look into any of this?” asked Cissy. “Or are they just determined that I’m the killer and all that matters is proving it?”

Trick picked up a cookie from the tray and dunked it in his coffee. “That’s a question well worth asking, and I’d like to know myself.” He removed the cookie and ate it.

“There’re a lot of questions to ask and a lot more digging to do,” said Mason. “Let’s hope we can find people who will talk to us.”

“If I have anything to say about it, they will,” said Trick. “Chad deserved better. Despite whatever shortcomings he had, he was a good man, and he would have straightened it out with you. He would have been a good husband and father.”

Cissy studied her tea and didn’t answer. Dead Chad stopped behind her chair and stared at her.

Mason sensed her uncertainty, and Chad’s too. He sat forward and put his tea on the tray. “Cissy? Is there anything else we need to know? Anything that might affect our investigation? The deeper we go, the more important it is not