Lost Souls Read online

  He pushed up on the couch. “Did you see him last night?”

  Mikey chuckled. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” She closed the magazine. “Fine. Yes. We went to the movies.”

  “Let me guess. It had something to do with a flawed superhero who, weakened by his own moral struggles, frantically tries to find the magic power tool that will save the planet before it’s destroyed by an evil villain with a scarred face.”

  “Close, but not really.” She tossed the magazine back on the table. “The Shining was playing at the dollar theater. It’s hard to pass up Kubrick and Nicholson.”

  He waved a hand. “I don’t even want to know, but I’m glad you’re having fun. How’s he doing now that he’s back at work?”

  “He’s adjusting. It’s been hard, and he’s still working through a few things. I think his captain is keeping the workload light for the moment. I encourage him to get out of the house to keep his mind off things, so we go to the movies.” Mikey could almost hear her brother’s unspoken question which he finally voiced.

  “You think you two might be more than friends one day?”

  Mikey snorted and picked up her coffee. “Why can’t two people who happen to be male and female just be friends? Why does it have to become a relationship?” She dragged out the word.

  Mason studied her. “It doesn’t have to become anything, but you two share a common thread with D’Mato, and you’ve both dealt with horrors better left forgotten. It makes you both strangely well-suited for each other, unless…”

  Mikey gripped her mug and took a sip, uneasy at the mention of Victor D’Mato. “Go ahead. Finish your sentence.”

  Mason sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “…unless you’re letting your own fears get in the way.”

  “Believe me, Mason. No one knows better than me how to face a fear. I’ve been doing it ever since I escaped Victor’s clutches. I don’t doubt I have a few lingering issues, but for now, Rem and I just enjoy each other’s company. Can we leave it at that?”

  He held her gaze. “Of course. I’ll butt out, but if you ever need to talk about it…”

  “I know. You’re there. In fact, I can’t seem to get rid of you.”

  “That’s what big brothers are for.”

  “Consider your brotherly duties accomplished.”

  “I usually do. You’re drinking that coffee you wanted, aren’t you?”

  “I am, for which I am grateful.” She tapped on her cup and smiled. “And don’t get me wrong. I appreciate your concern, but you worry too much.”

  He cocked a brow at her. “When it comes to you, Mikey, sometimes I wonder if I worry enough.” Sighing again, he leaned back against the couch cushions. “Maybe I will take that nap.”

  A buzzer sounded, and Mikey swiveled toward the desk. “Who is that? You don’t have any appointments today.”

  Mason stifled a yawn. “I’ll let you deal with it. I’m going to close my eyes for a sec.” He settled in and got comfortable.

  Mikey stood and went to the monitor, checking to see who was at the front office door. She saw a man, tall and lanky, wearing a cowboy hat, jeans and boots, much like Mason. Something about him was familiar, and she hit the button to the intercom. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  The man spoke. “Is this the office for SCOPE?”

  SCOPE was the name of Mason’s business. Mikey had debated the acronym with Mason before he’d opened his agency. He’d insisted that The Study of Cryptids or Paranormal Events was the perfect choice, and she had failed in convincing him otherwise. Her vote had been for The Redstone Agency, but he’d said no. She hit the button to answer. “I assume you can read. That’s the name on the sign.”

  The man chuckled. “Is that you, Mikey?”

  Mikey dropped her jaw, and Mason opened his eyes. They made eye contact and Mason stood and came over to the desk, leaning over Mikey’s shoulder and staring at the screen.

  “Hello?” asked the man. “You there? Red?” The man rapped on the door.

  Mason’s eyes widened and his face paled.

  “Who is that?” asked Mikey. “Somebody you know?”

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” said Mason. “That’s Trick Monroe. My old partner from my Ranger days.”

  Mikey studied the man on the screen. “That’s Trick? Didn’t you two have a falling out?”

  “C’mon, Red,” said Trick, rapping again on the door. “I know you’re in there.” He grinned up at the camera. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad.”

  Mason stared, his expression unreadable.

  “What pissed you off?” asked Mikey. “You never did tell me why you two stopped being friends.”

  Mason glared, his body no longer relaxed. “He slept with Cara.”

  Mikey almost choked. “Your ex-wife? From Texas? He slept with her?”

  “He sure did.” Mason hit the button and the buzzer sounded, and Mikey watched on the video as Trick entered the office.

  Chapter Three

  “So much for taking a nap,” said Mason.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” asked Mikey.

  “I think we’re about to find out.” Mason went to the door and opened it. Trick was standing in the small, wallpapered, outer office which contained only a desk and chair.

  Seeing Mason, he took off his hat. “Well, hell. Look at you.” He ran his fingers over the brim. “How long’s it been, Red?”

  Mason crossed his arms and considered his response. They’d met and been assigned together during his tenure as a Texas Ranger. There had been a time when Mason would have called Trick his best friend, and they had been as close as Detectives Daniels and Remalla. Mason had envied that bond when he’d met the detectives, recalling his old partnership with Trick, but those days were long over.

  “I figured it would be a lot longer,” said Mason.

  Trick shook his head. “Shit. You sure know how to hold a grudge. It’s been years, Red.”

  Mikey poked her head out, and Trick grinned. “Is that you, Mikey?” His eyes trailed over her. “You’ve grown up.”

  Mason stiffened. “What the hell do you want, Trick?”

  “Trick Monroe?” asked Mikey. “I remember you.”

  “I like to make an impression.” Trick raised his hat, looking pleased with himself.

  “I recall you being a lot more handsome,” said Mikey.

  Trick’s face fell. “You haven’t changed much.”

  “I like to make an impression, too,” said Mikey.

  Mason sized up his former partner. Trick hadn’t changed much. His swagger and annoying charm remained despite their estrangement. It was a valued skill in a Ranger, or any cop. Trick could talk down a junkie threatening suicide and waving a gun better than any lawman Mason had ever witnessed. Everything in him wanted to throw Trick out, but he couldn’t do it. A tingle moved through him and Mason opened up, letting his senses guide him. A fuzzy image appeared behind Trick, and Mason watched as Trick’s grandmother came into view. Her eyes twinkled, and her silver hair sparkled. She’d died a couple of years after Trick had joined the Rangers and been partnered with Mason. Trick had invited Mason for dinner at her place a few times, and she’d been a terrific cook. Smiling, she put a hand on Trick’s shoulder and her voice echoed in Mason’s head.

  Trick shifted on his feet, and then scratched his shoulder. “You gonna talk to me, or leave me standing here like a fool?”

  Mason relaxed, as the older woman faded from view. “You’re lucky I liked your grandmother.”

  Trick squinted, and Mikey shot him a confused look.

  “She says ‘Hi’ by the way.” Mason stepped back. “Come on in.”

  Trick gripped his hat. “God, are you talking to her? You still doing that dead people thing?” Trick walked in to the inner office.

  Mason closed the door. “It’s my business. You know that’s why I came out here. Some Ranger you are.”

  Trick put his hat on the coffee table. “I’m not a Ranger.
” He paused. “Not anymore.”

  “Sorry to hear it,” said Mason. Despite their falling out, Trick had always been a first-rate investigator, smart as any high-ranking officer, and a solid partner. Thinking back on their days together, Mason missed being part of a team, and relying on and talking to someone who would back you up no matter what occurred.

  Mikey raised her mug. “You want some coffee?”

  “Love some,” said Trick. “Thanks. Black is fine.”

  Mikey nodded and headed to the coffee machine.

  Mason walked to his desk and sat. “What brings you here? And don’t tell me you’re just passing through.”

  Trick surveyed the room, his gaze briefly settling on the wooden box and plexiglass holder of the statues. “I barely saw you at your mom’s funeral and you disappeared before we could talk, but I wanted to tell you it’s a damn shame. She was a nice lady.”

  Mason interlaced his fingers and tried not to think about his mother. It would only upset him more. “Thanks.” He waited as Trick stood anxiously, his face flat.

  His mind wandering, Mason asked the question he should have avoided. “How’s Cara?”

  Trick groaned and shook his head. “You just can’t let me off the hook, can you?”

  Mikey finished with the coffee and brought Trick a mug. He took it and thanked her. Mikey stayed quiet, but leaned against the wall, watching.

  “You don’t seem to be saying much, so I figured I’d start the conversation.” Mason leaned back and crossed his arms. “Did you think I wouldn’t bring her up?”

  “You know I haven’t seen her in years,” said Trick.

  “How would I know that?” asked Mason.

  “Don’t you talk to her?”

  “No. Why would I? My patience with her is about as non-existent as it is with you.”

  Trick sipped his coffee. “Last I heard, she married. Has two kids.”

  “Sorry to hear it didn’t work out,” said Mason.

  Trick chuckled softly. “Sure you are.” He gestured. “You mind if I sit?”

  “Why not?” asked Mason. “You typically do what you want. Why stop now?”

  Mikey pushed off the wall. “You know, I have a couple errands to run.” She reached for her purse beneath the desk.

  “What errands?” asked Mason.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll think of something.” She tossed her purse strap over her shoulder. “You need anything while I’m out?”

  Mason glared at Trick. “Maybe a shovel? I sense a lot of shit comin’ my way.”

  Trick snorted and rolled his eyes. “While you’re at it, pick up a violin. He can play it when you come back, and you can feel sorry for him.”

  Mason frowned, and Mikey winced and headed for the door. “I’ll…uhm…” She looked between the two men. “…never mind. I’ll just go.” Not getting a response, she left.

  Mason told himself to stay cool. Although he hadn’t spoken to Trick in years, his old partner had not forgotten how to get under his skin, but Mason refused to be drawn into another inane discussion about his ex-wife. “How about we cut to the chase? Why did you come?”

  Trick walked to the couch and sat, holding his mug. Mason stood from his desk and approached Trick, waiting to hear the answer.

  Trick sighed. “Chad is dead.”

  “Who?” Mason rested a hand on the back of the chair.

  “Chad Howard. My stepbrother. Rudy’s kid. You met him. Remember? Kid used to follow us around like we were super heroes.”

  Mason recalled a younger version of Trick with long legs and dirty hair pestering them with questions whenever they were around. “Chip?”

  Trick ran a hand through his brown hair which was almost as long as Mason recalled Chip’s used to be. “Yeah. I used to call him that. Kid could eat a bag of chips faster than a pile of racoons.” He hung his head. “He grew up, though. Came out here last year for employment with his new wife. Her name’s Cissy. Cissy found him dead on their sofa three weeks ago in their living room. She’d gone out for groceries.” Trick paused. “He’d been shot in the head.”

  Recalling Chad, Mason’s heart thumped, and he remembered how attached Chad and Trick had been. Even though they were stepbrothers, Trick had considered Chad to be as close as Trick’s two biological brothers. Taking a deep breath, he took a seat in the chair across from Trick. “I’m sorry. I know how you felt about him.”

  Trick put his mug down and picked up his hat. He fiddled with the brim. “After you left, we hung out a lot. He thought about becoming a Ranger and made it into the Fort Worth P.D., but ultimately decided it wasn’t for him. He became a security consultant and got a lucrative offer from a firm out here. He and Cissy found a place outside of San Diego, and I’d been planning to visit, but just hadn’t made it out here yet.” He studied his hat. “Maybe if I had…”

  “You don’t know if you could have prevented it,” said Mason. “You likely would have come out and left, and he’d still be dead.”

  “He had something on his mind. Wanted to talk to me about it.” He tossed his hat back on the table. “I should have paid more attention.”

  Mason nodded. He understood the pain of regret. “They know who did it?”

  Trick rubbed his face. “They arrested Cissy.”

  Mason dropped his jaw. “His wife?”

  Trick stood and paced. “It’s absurd, but they insist she did it. They picked her up the day after the funeral. She’s the spouse. Has no real alibi, other than she went to the store, came home and found him. They believe she shot him before she left, and then claimed that it happened while she was gone. Chad was killed with his own gun, but it wasn’t a suicide. Whoever did it knew where the gun was, and where he lived. Chad must have let them in because there was no forced entry.”

  “How do you know she didn’t kill him? How was their marriage?”

  Trick flicked a pained glance at Mason. “Those two were closer than a couch and my butt during a Cowboy game. Chad met her his first year as a cop. He pulled her over for speeding, and they’d been together ever since. They were happy, and she is devastated by his loss.”

  Mason studied his hands. “You don’t know for sure. They’d been out here for a year, and you hadn’t seen them recently. Maybe that’s what Chad wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Hell, no. I don’t believe it. They were trying to get pregnant. Chad couldn’t wait to be a dad, and Cissy couldn’t wait to be a mom.” He shook his head. “And even if they weren’t happy, Cissy could have easily filed for divorce. She hated guns and doesn’t even like scary movies. There’s no way she would have shot him.”

  Mason considered what to say. In his experience, he knew how even the closest spouses could turn on each other. And as a medium, he’d seen and heard plenty of examples from those who’d passed on who’d expressed regret over their perceived neglect or unintended abuse of their significant other. And the ones left behind often struggled with how to deal with it.

  Trick returned to the couch and sat. “Listen, I know what you’re thinking. I’m too attached to this, and I need to let the law take it from here. But you and I know that sometimes the law gets a hold of something and refuses to see any other scenario.” He pointed. “I think that’s what’s happening here. The police suspected Cissy from the start, and they’re not even bothering to look for anyone else. And that’s just not right.” He hesitated. “Cissy deserves her chance to be proven innocent, and Chad’s killer needs to be brought to justice.”

  “Doesn’t she have an attorney?” asked Mason.

  “She needs more than an attorney, Red.” He stared pointedly.

  Mason straightened in his seat. “Wait a minute. Is that why you’re here? You want my help?”

  “I know you do that SCOPE stuff. God knows I didn’t understand your woo-woo issues back when we were partners, and I still don’t get it, but I also know you were a damn good investigator, and you have a P.I. license out here. Plus, you’re bound to have some conne
ctions. You have access to people and things that I don’t.”

  “How do you know I have a P.I. license?”

  Trick chuckled. “I’m not an idiot. I did a little research of my own before I came out.”

  Mason put his elbows on his knees. “Are you serious? You want me to help you investigate Chad’s death?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  “We haven’t worked together in years, and the last time we spoke, you were very specific about where I should put my head.”

  “And you weren’t too kind about what I could do with my mother.” Trick sat back against the couch, looking worn and frazzled. “I know I did things I shouldn’t have done, and if you ever want to talk about it, I’m all ears, but right now, I could use your help. The past is the past. There’s nothing I can do about any of it. If I could take it back, I would. But I need to focus on the here and now, and you’re my best bet if I want to find Chad’s killer.”

  Mason moaned and held his head. “And if it turns out to be Cissy?”

  “Then so be it. At least I’ll know the truth.”

  Mason sighed, uncertain of what to do. “I don’t know, Trick. Something tells me this is a bad idea. Maybe it’s better we go our separate ways. I’m sure her attorney can find a good investigator.”

  Trick went quiet, and Mason waited for the outburst, but none came. Trick just tipped his head, and spoke softly. “You owe me, Red.”

  Mason’s heart fell. “Hell. You’re gonna pull that card? I figured you screwing my wife made us even.”

  Trick grimaced. “Whatever. You two were separated at the time, and you’d already come out here, and she was lonely.”

  “Thank God you were around to make her feel better.” He glowered. “I still had hopes that she would join me here.”

  “She didn’t want to leave Texas and you know it, so stop blaming me for the loss of your marriage. I wasn’t the cause, only the result.”

  “That’s a convenient argument, coming from the man who lied to me.”

  “I promised her I wouldn’t tell you. I honored that.”