Lost Souls, J. Bishop [100 books to read in a lifetime .TXT] 📗

own. I’ll get my shit together and promise to not go on anymore benders, but you need to stay on this with me.”

“Trick, listen─”

“Just work with me a couple of days. Then we can reevaluate how it’s going. If I can take it from there, or if it’s obvious Cissy did it, I’ll move on and your debt will be paid. But if it isn’t, and there’s another suspect to consider, then we stick.” He waved a hand. “You may not agree with me or my lifestyle, but I can behave long enough to get through this, no matter how much you might look down on me.”

Mason stood still, his mind unsettled. “I don’t look down on you.”

“Yes. You do. I see the judgement all over your face.”

“You just don’t see what I do. I know the man you are, and the man you could be. I wish you could see it, too.”

Trick ticked up a brow. “You let me worry about the man I could be, but I appreciate the thought.” He opened the folder and wincing, he closed it. “Hell. I can’t even look at the photos.”

Mason’s heart fell, and he cursed at himself for giving in. “Okay, Trick. You win. I’ll stay. But you avoid the booze. You pull another shitshow like last night and today, and you can choke on the dust from my boots.”

“I got it.” Trick’s eyes softened and his shoulders dropped. “Thank you.”

Mason nodded. “I guess we need to go through that folder. You want to start there? We can go back to my office, or your place. Where are you staying?”

Trick fiddled with the edge of the folder. “Well, that’s another thing I need to talk to you about.”

“Hell,” said Mason. “I spoke too soon, didn’t I?”

Trick rubbed his stomach, still looking pale. “Me and my lady friend may have gotten a little loud in my hotel room. The people next door called the cops, and we got thrown out, which is probably a good thing, since my credit card is maxed out. Thankfully, the police had some grace when they heard I was a former Ranger, and I stayed the rest of the night at her place before she drove me here.”

Mason rubbed his forehead. “What are you telling me, Trick?”

Trick shrugged. “You got an extra room I can bunk in?”

Mason blew out a breath, and wanted to tell his friend what he could do with that folder, but a sudden sharp tingle of cold wiggled up his back, making his stomach clench. Turning toward the lot, he took a few steps and eyed the area. Tuning in, he didn’t sense the presence of spirit, and realized he was picking up on the living. The tingle grew, and Mason sensed what had caught his attention. They were being watched.

“It’ll only be for a couple of days. You won’t even know I’m around,” said Trick. “We probably won’t be spending much time there anyway, while we’re working this.”

Mason barely heard him and scanned the parked cars. They were empty from what he could tell. A man on his phone paced outside the restaurant, and a woman holding the hand of a young child walked into a neighboring retail store.

“Red? Somethin’ wrong?” Trick came up beside him. “What’s got you on edge, other than me?” His gaze followed Mason’s.

The tingle flared in Mason’s gut. “I think we’re being watched.”

Trick became alert. “You sure it’s not one of your ghost friends?” He studied the lot, then turned and scanned the cars and shops behind them.

“It’s not.” He continued to watch, as did Trick.

“I don’t see anything,” said Trick. “You?”

“Nothing. Doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”

“Unless we check every car, there’s no way to know.” He raised up on his toes to look further back. “You got an admirer I should know about, or are we scrambling up a tree someone doesn’t want us to climb?”

“My list of admirers has dwindled.” Mason heard a door close and saw a teenager hop out of a car carrying a pizza box.

“Then we might end up having some fun after all.”

Mason’s hope that Chad’s case would be open and shut began to fade. “You got your stuff? A suitcase?” Another car drove by, but the driver was an elderly woman wearing a flowery hat.

“I dropped it off at your office on the way here. Mikey’s got it.”

Mason nodded, taking a last look around, but saw nothing that roused more suspicion, even though the anxious tingle remained. He turned and faced Trick. “You do anything stupid, and you’re out on your ass.”

Trick returned his attention to Mason and smacked him on the shoulder. “I appreciate it. I promise to keep the country music at an acceptable volume.”

“Acceptable means off.” His heart rate slowing, Mason returned to the car and opened the door. “Get in.”

Trick didn’t argue, but took a last look around before joining Mason in the front seat. He reached for the seat belt. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to think we may catch a killer.” He grinned. “I’m as excited as an acne-prone teenager on his first date.”

“Most teenagers are nervous as hell, especially those with acne.”

“Not me.” He rapped his fingers on the arm rest. “Did I ever tell you about my first date?”

“Mary Hudgins, and yes, I know what happened.”

Trick chuckled. “If this is as eye-opening as that was, then hold on to your hat, partner.”

Mason almost argued that this partnership was temporary, but a nudge of worry stopped him, and he started up the ignition, backed out and drove off.

Chapter Seven

Mikey clicked the mouse and the screen flicked to a new page. Reading what pulled up, she made a few notes on her pad of paper, and scrolled down, studying the feed.

Hearing the door up front open, she clicked over to the cameras and saw Mason and Trick. She returned to the page she’d been reading as Mason entered the inner office.

“How was lunch?” asked Mikey, adding another scribble to