Lost Souls J. Bishop (motivational books for students .txt) 📖

was there more to the story? Cissy obviously had a temper, and she had lied about not seeing Lydia. Had she lied about anything else?

Mason sipped on his liquor and looked around the small bar. Two men sat across from him, talking and drinking beers, a man and a woman laughed as they played a game of pool in a small room across from the bar, and a football game played with the sound turned down on a nearby TV. He noticed a woman sitting by herself at a small table in the corner. A drink sat in front of her, her phone was beside her, and she stared out the window. Her sleeveless top revealed smooth, toned bronze skin, and her thick dark hair ran down her back. Mason had glanced over at her a few times and found himself wondering about her. Her face was round but sculpted, and he’d seen her apply a bit of lip gloss to her full lips to make them shine. Her perfectly arched eyebrows mesmerized him. How did women like that sit alone at a bar? If he’d been in a better mood, he would have approached and offered to buy her a drink.

The door to the bar opened, and Mason spotted Mikey entering with Detective Remalla behind her. Mikey headed to the bar and slid onto the stool beside him. Remalla sat next her.

Mason grumbled. “Mikey. What are you doing here?”

“Don’t give me that look,” said Mikey. “I didn’t like that tone in your voice when I talked to you. Something’s up.”

“How’d you know I was here?” asked Mason.

Mikey rolled her eyes. “Because you always come to Charlie’s when you need a drink.”

Remalla leaned over. “Don’t mind me. She dragged me here after we got a burger. Said she was worried about you. I know her well enough not to argue.”

Charlie came over. “Can I get you guys something?”

Remalla eyed Mikey. “You want a beer?”

Mikey nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Remalla ordered, and Mason sighed. “I’m fine,” he said. “You didn’t have to check on me. I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“Famous last words,” said Remalla.

Mikey swiveled in her seat. “Don’t give me that crap, Mason. I can tell that something’s bugging you. What happened today? Is it Trick?”

Lydia’s cackle echoed in his head. “No, although he is a pain in the ass.”

“Was he drunk this morning?” asked Mikey.

“Yes,” said Mason and Remalla at the same time.

“Sorry about that,” said Mason to Remalla. “He tends to play first and think later.”

“Considering he puked his way through breakfast, I figured,” said Remalla. “I know he’s your former partner and all, but are you sure you can rely on him?”

Mason tinkered with the rim of his glass. “I hope so.”

“That doesn’t sound encouraging,” said Mikey. “Maybe you should back out of this while you still can.”

Mason had been considering the same thing through two drinks. “I can’t. Much as I think it might be best for my mental health, Trick and I have too much history and if he needs my help, then I’m going to be there for him. I know, despite our differences, that he’d do the same for me.” He leaned and spoke to Remalla. “I’m sure you get it. I doubt you’d do any less for your partner if you were in a similar situation.”

Remalla nodded. “I can’t deny it. You go through a few things together, and hell, if he was wanted for murder, I’d help him.”

Mikey looked between the two of them. “Even if it meant sacrificing yourselves in the process?”

Mason nodded, along with Remalla. “Admit it, Mikey,” said Mason. “You’d help me if I were in a pinch.”

“You’re my brother, Mason,” she said. “There’s a difference.”

“Not really,” said Mason.

“Agreed,” said Remalla.

Charlie approached with two beers and set them down in front of Remalla and Mikey.

“I can deal with Trick, though,” said Mason. “It’s the dead I’m having issues with.”

“Wonderful,” said Remalla. “Maybe I can get my beer to go.”

“Oh, please,” said Mikey. “This is hardly news to you. You’ve been through a lot worse.”

Rem shrugged. “You’ve got a point.” He drank some beer.

Mikey spoke to Mason. “What is it? What happened? What are you seeing?”

Dead Chad and Lydia flashed in his mind, and Mason shuddered. Realizing Mikey wasn’t going to let him off the hook, he told her about his afternoon with Trick, starting at the apartment complex and then ending with their talk with Cissy. She and Remalla listened, and Remalla’s eyes widened when he mentioned dead Chad and Lydia.

Mason took the last swig of his drink and noticed the pretty woman with the bronze skin who was sitting alone looking over at them. When she met his gaze, she looked away.

“Hell. It’s a good thing I don’t see that stuff. I’d have ended up in a straightjacket.” Remalla grabbed a peanut from a bowl and popped it in his mouth. “The cigarette butts are interesting though. You think someone was waiting in the empty apartment?”

“Don’t know,” said Mason. “But it’s possible. If Cissy didn’t do it, it would be the only way to explain how no one is seen on the cameras. I doubt those cigarettes will help much, though. Any DNA on them is likely gone after sitting in that water, unless the one from the porch comes through.”

“You want me to get them analyzed?” asked Rem. “They may not be admissible in court, but if there is DNA, it might point to whoever was in the apartment.”

“I’ve bothered you enough,” said Mason. “I can find a lab.”

Mikey prodded him. “Mason, accept help when it’s offered.”

“Mikey…” said Mason.

“It’s no big deal,” said Rem. “I’m happy to do it.”

Mason hesitated and wondered where he’d put the cigarettes once they’d placed them in the plastic bag, then realized they were still in his jacket pocket. He pulled them out. “I’ve still got them. Almost forgot.”

Remalla took them. “Okay. I’ll take ’em in tomorrow. But it will be a while before we know.”

“Yeah. I figured. Thanks, though,” said