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

Chapter Two

Mikey Redstone studied the file on the monitor and typed a few notes, then saved and closed it. Pushing back in the chair, she swiveled and picked up a paper from the printer. She brought it back and placed it in a folder on the desk. After straightening a few items so Mason wouldn’t complain when he returned, she stood and helped herself to some coffee from the machine on the table next to the desk.

Sighing with satisfaction, she smiled as she poured, happy that she’d finally convinced Mason to add a few items to the office that were sorely needed, one of them being the coffee maker. The spacious room in the two-story brick building that served as his workspace sported his desk, plus a couch, coffee table, and cushioned chair. The shelf-lined walls were bare other than the wooden box that sat against the back wall along with a plexiglass cube that enclosed two small stone statues. The box was familiar to her, and although she didn’t like it, the statues were what gave her the willies. Sipping her coffee, she stared at their round heads and wide eyes, remembering where they had come from and why they were there. A tremble passed through her, and she thought of Daniels and Remalla, thankful they were alive and well.

Other than those items, and the new coffee machine, an open area beyond the desk was empty, except for a woven rug Mason had purchased on some overseas trip. A storage space beyond the far wall contained files and other tools necessary for Mason’s business, and they were kept out of sight. Mikey smiled, though, pleased with her negotiating skills and her coffee. She’d also made Mason install a camera and intercom at the front door. Considering Mason’s clients and his past experiences with those who might wish him harm, Mikey knew his safety required it and the extra security made her feel better. Now she could see and speak to anyone at the entrance and buzz them in.

Hearing the outer door open, she went around to the desk and eyed the monitor. The screen saver defaulted to the camera views up front, and she saw Mason walk through the outer office. The door to the inner office opened and Mason walked in. “Hey. How’d it go?” she asked.

Closing the door behind him, he grunted. “You were right. I should have waited.” He slid his jacket off, and Mikey noted his blue, narrow-cut, collared shirt and pressed blue jeans with boots. “I told you. At least you looked nice. The blue suits you.”

He ran his hands down his shirt. “You chose well. It fits perfectly.”

“Well, since you agreed to the coffee machine, I figured it was the least I could do.”

Mason tossed his jacket on the chair and sat on the couch. “I’m exhausted.”

“That bad, huh?” Mikey leaned back against the desk. “Was she weird?”

Mason frowned. “You know I don’t like that term.” He rubbed his face. “But I do admit, she was a little…off.”

“I told you she felt weird to me.”

He frowned at her again.

“Sorry. But it’s true.”

“She’s lost someone she loved. She’s grieving. You and I both know what grief can do. Plus, from what I learned, the man she lost may not have treated her well. On top of her grief, she’s angry. Pain, unaddressed, results in a myriad of unpleasant problems. She’s pissed at someone who’s dead. It can be frustrating, especially now when that person returns from beyond. It’s a lot to assimilate.”

Mikey sipped her coffee. “I suppose. I still think she’s weird.”

“Mikey…”

Mikey huffed. “Fine. What would you prefer? Odd? Unusual? Creepy?”

“None of those. How about lost, confused, and depressed? Any of those terms would be more accurate. I can only hope she seeks the help she requires.”

“You can’t be there for everyone, Mason. Sometimes, you just have to let people find their way.”

He nodded and leaned back against the couch. “I know. It’s just not in my nature.”

“Which is why you’re exhausted.” She turned and picked up the file folder. “But you’ll be happy to hear that I cleared your schedule for the next couple of days.” She waved the file at him. “You can look at it when you’re ready.”

“What about the Dunbar case?”

“I called and moved it back. They can live with a few spooky bumps in the night a little longer.”

Mason stared and she half expected him to argue, but then he nodded and rested his head back. “All right. I like the new pink streaks, by the way.”

Mikey touched her hair. She’d added pink highlights the previous day, thinking it added a little color to her brownish-red hair. “You prefer the purple or the pink?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy. But if you’re going to continue wearing black and keep your nose pierced, I don’t think it matters.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the piercing, and I don’t always wear black.” She straightened her black t-shirt that framed her narrow waist and admired her skinny black jeans.

“Since when?”

“When I exercise.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Yes, it does.”

He cracked open an eye at her and then closed it.

“You want some coffee?” she asked.

“No, thanks.” He raised his head. “How are you? Any nightmares?”

Mikey sat on the chair across from the couch and set her coffee down. “You’re hovering.”

“It’s just a question.”

Mikey picked up a magazine from the table and flipped through it. “No, actually. Haven’t had one in a while.”

“Glad to hear it.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Is that a gossip magazine? How can you read that stuff?”

“I can only handle so much of your science and medical journals. For someone who works in the paranormal, you sure read a lot about research and studies.”

“The more I know the better, regardless of the field I’m in.” He shook his head. “Do you buy that crap? You know it’s all lies.”

“I didn’t buy it. I picked it up at Remalla’s. He told me to keep it.” She flipped another page.

“Detective Remalla?” He paused. “You’ve been