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

picking up his soda. “For her defense? Try to make us look like idiots?”

“If the shoe fits,” said Trick.

Mason wanted to punch Trick.

“Then be careful,” said Bevins, with a smile.

Something in Mason’s gut churned. “Why, exactly, do we need to be careful?”

Winkler wiped her fingers with the napkin from her lap. “We’re all on the same side here, fellas. We should be working together, and we’re happy to help, but if you choose to go down that path, well, it works both ways.”

Suspecting the path they were on, Mason held his breath.

“You got nothing on us,” said Trick. He turned and grabbed his hat. “And this meeting was pointless. C’mon, Mason.”

“When we knew you two were coming to talk to us, we did a little checking,” said Bevins to Trick. “Your superiors were hesitant to speak, but we finally found someone willing to talk and learned enough to know that you got yourself a hot head, Cowboy.” He grinned and ate a chip.

Trick deflated. “You called Texas?”

“We called Texas,” said Winkler. “You punched your Sergeant. On top of getting rough with a suspect, which cost you the case and landed him back on the street. Is that what got you fired?”

Trick stared in disbelief.

Mason sat up, his anger growing. “You two don’t play nice.”

“We’re just getting started,” said Bevins. “I hear you speak to the dead. I’m sure Cissy’s defense attorney would be happy to mention that to the jury. Maybe you can tell them how you talked to Chad and he told you who was hiding in the parlor with the bloody knife the morning of the crime.”

Mason couldn’t believe his ears.

Trick stood, putting on his hat. “I think we’re done here.”

Mason stood, too, and grabbed his hat. “I think so, too.”

“You two cowboys have a nice day,” said Bevins, raising a chip.

Winkler smacked Bevin’s arm. “Stop it, Bevins.”

Trick held still and Mason took his arm. “Forget it. Let’s go.”

Trick pointed. “I’ll accept your apology when we prove you wrong.”

“You pull that off, and I’ll buy myself one of those nice hats,” said Bevins. “And eat it.”

“Good to know,” said Trick. “I’ll happily check to see if they have one to fit the size of your head, which is as almost thick as your ass.”

Bevins stopped in mid-chew.

“C’mon, Trick.” Mason grabbed Trick’s elbow and pulled him out of the cafeteria.

**

Mikey stepped inside the bookstore and looked around. It was small, the main area filled with rows of books, and a smaller area in the back that looked to be a children’s section. A large table at the front displayed the latest bestsellers, and Mikey picked up a book and flipped through it. One customer stood at the register, while a woman with short, spiky pink hair, skin-tight jeans, and a chunky sweater checked him out.

The purchase made, the customer took his bag and left, and the woman at the counter studied a nail.

Mikey approached, and the woman looked up from her fingers. “Can I help you?”

Mikey nodded. “Yes. I hope so.” She thought about what to say, and assuming this was the woman who’d worked with Cissy, she just dove in. “I’m investigating the murder of Chad Howard. Did Cissy Howard work here?”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Yes. She did.”

“You’re a friend of hers?” asked Mikey. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Oh, dear.” The woman put a hand to her face. “Am I in trouble?”

Mikey raised a hand. “No. Of course not. I’m just─”

“Oh, God. You’re that detective, aren’t you?”

Mikey frowned. “Detec─”

“Detective Winkler, right? I’m so sorry. You called a few times, and I didn’t call you back.” She came around the counter, looking like she’d stolen a book and was terrified she’d been caught. “I meant to call. Really.” She wrung her hands.

Mikey tried to keep up. “Listen, I’m not─”

“Please don’t bring me in. I know I have that unpaid parking ticket. I’ll pay it. I swear.” She held her head. “What do you need to know? I’ll answer any questions. And I won’t lie.”

Mikey went quiet, trying to think. This woman thought she was Detective Winkler. Her mind raced, and she spied the woman’s name tag. “Carla, right?”

“Yes. Carla Bellaveena. I was going to call yesterday, but it just got busy, you know?” She laughed, but her eyes didn’t show any humor, and Mikey didn’t think for a second that the bookstore had been busy recently.

Mikey debated, and making a decision, hoped Mason wouldn’t yell at her later. “What can you tell me about Cissy, Carla? How well did you know her?” She pulled out her small notepad and a pencil.

Carla bit her lip. “Not that well. We just worked together. But we were friends. Sort of.” She crossed her arms. “I mean, not best friends, but friends.”

Mikey scribbled on her paper. “When did you last see her?”

“Uhm, well, her husband’s funeral, and then after, at the reception. Didn’t really talk to her though. She was pretty upset.”

“What about before then? When was the last time you saw her before Chad died?”

Carla chewed on her lip. “Uhm, the day before. She came in as I was leaving.”

“How did she seem?”

“Seem?”

Mikey nodded. “How was her mood? Anything that stuck out? Was she her normal self?”

“I…I think so. I didn’t notice anything different.”

“And what about before then? Did you know Chad?”

“No. Not really. He came in once or twice. I said hi, but that’s it. Nothing weird.”

Mikey adjusted her purse strap. “Did you see anything between them that might have indicated they were unhappy? Did Mikey ever confide in you about her relationship?”

“Oh, jeez. I don’t know. We had lunch a few times, and I told her about my dickless boyfriend, and she complained about Chad, but that’s it. It was just girl talk.”

“What did she complain about?”

Carla swallowed and scratched her neck. “Standard stuff. He didn’t spend enough time with her. He worked too much. She was lonely.”

Mikey held Carla’s gaze. “Do you think she killed him?”

Carla’s mouth opened. “I…I…don’t know. She never struck me