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

“I know. He took it hard when we lost her.”

“He did,” said Mikey. “I remember seeing him at the funeral. He looked as lost as you did.”

Mason scooped up some ice cream and recalled the heaviness of that day. “I should have been a better friend.”

Mikey lowered her cone. “What are you talking about? You were always good to Trick. And you were a grieving son. Cut yourself some slack.”

“It’s not just the funeral. He was my partner. And when the time came, I sided with Victor.” He sighed. “And we both know how that turned out.”

Mikey grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”

Mason thought back. “Maybe I should have stayed in Texas. It would have saved us both a lot of trouble.”

“Mason, you did what you felt was right at the time. You can’t second guess yourself now, nor blame yourself for Victor’s actions and what stemmed from them. And as much as we may both hate to admit it, it’s because of him that you’re following your gut and doing what you love. But that comes with a price. As much as you may want to, you can’t make everyone happy. You were given a gift, and you had to follow where it led. Trick’s a big boy. His happiness can’t be based on what you choose to do with your life. Besides, he found his way back here, so it seems life found a path to get you two back together.”

“Couldn’t it have found a less challenging one?” He licked his spoon. “Maybe a football game, or a party?”

“You hate those things.” Mikey licked a drip that was about to fall from the cone. “And when it comes to you and Trick, nothing less than a murder case will do.”

“I’m guessing you don’t mind it either.”

Mikey ate more of her ice cream, dabbed her mouth with a napkin, and leaned in. “Can I admit something?”

“Sure. Since when have I stopped you from doing anything?”

She grinned. “That interview with Bradley was the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever done.” She curled her fingers into a fist. “I wanted to get in there, break down his will, and get him to confess.” Her eyes widened. “I was stoked.”

Mason raised a hand. “Okay, there, policewoman. Hold your horses. I’ll admit. You did a great job, but let’s not go too crazy. These things take time and patience.”

“Are you kidding? I’m ready to go speak to Shay, and then that mother of theirs. I bet I could get her to talk in no time.” She slurped at a chocolate chip.

Mason scraped at some ice cream on the side of his cup. “How about we talk about Bradley first. What’d you think of his answers?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, please. He knows something. He got all touchy when we asked about money. And that jacket? It was his.”

“No question. If Lydia did leave him some money, then that would explain the fancy jacket. But considering his living arrangements, he hasn’t made major changes to his lifestyle. What did you think about his alibi?”

“Lying.”

“I got that impression, too.”

“Now we talk to Shay?”

He sat back. “Probably, but the likelihood that she backs up her brother is high, and then where does that leave us?”

“She might hang him out to dry. They don’t seem too close.”

“You never know with something like this, I’ve seen families that hate each other close ranks, and defend their loved ones to the death. They can kill one another, but God help anyone else who tries to.”

“What then?”

Mason thought about it, and wondered what Trick would do. “I say we go to the source. Let’s talk to the mother.”

“Michelle? You think she’d speak to us?”

“Depends. But there’s only one way to find out.” He scooped out some more ice cream.

“If you think so.” Mikey took a bite of her cone with a crunch, and Mason’s cell phone rang.

He eyed the display. “Oh, boy. It’s Serita Avery.”

Mikey leaned to look. “Your client? I talked to her. I scheduled you for next week.”

Mason sighed and debated whether to answer, but realized he also had a duty to his paranormal work that couldn’t be ignored. “I should talk to her.”

“You want me to answer?” asked Mikey.

Mason shook his head and answered. “Serita?”

Several minutes later, and the remains of his ice cream melted, Mason hung up. “I need to go over there. She’s in crisis. Keeps thinking she’s seeing a dead man staring at her in the mirror.”

“But I thought you talked to her about it, and she’d made peace with it. At least that’s what she’d told me.”

“Well, apparently, whoever’s haunting her in the mirror hasn’t found the same peace. I told her I’d swing by and take a look.”

Mikey had finished her cone and sipped from a water glass. “But what about Michelle? Aren’t we going to talk to her?”

Mason nodded. “If there’s time when I get back, then we’ll go. Hopefully, Miss Avery won’t take too long. You go back to the office and wait for my call.” He paused. “And do not, under any circumstances, go out on your own. You got that?”

Mikey’s shoulders fell. “You are no fun.”

“Promise me.”

Mikey hesitated. “Fine. I promise.”

Mason huffed. “Okay.” He sat back and rubbed his chin, thinking.

“What’s that look? Something bugging you?”

Mason recalled the previous night and made a decision. “Listen. I need you to do me a favor while I’m gone.”

“What’s that?”

Mason searched his gut for an answer, and his gut confirmed it. “Call Trick for me.”

“Call Trick?” Mikey tossed her napkin and Mason’s cup in a trashcan beside the table. “You sure after last night? Don’t you want to call him?”

“I would, but I don’t need to get in an inane argument right before I see a client. I need to keep a clear head to deal with Serita’s mirror man. Just tell him to stop by this evening, and we’ll go from there. We need to talk.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” He stood. “You want me to drop you off at the