Lost Souls by J. Bishop (essential books to read .txt) 📕

pronounced dead at the scene, and it had only gone downhill from there. Chad’s gun had been found on the floor, and both her and Chad’s fingerprints were on it. The police didn’t believe it was suicide, and neither did Cissy.

“Why were your prints on the gun?” asked Mason.

“I’ve gone shooting with Chad a few times,” said Cissy. “He wanted me to learn how to use it.”

“She’s a good shot, too,” said Trick. “When’s the last time you went shooting?”

Cissy thought about it. “Probably a little over a month ago.”

“Forgive me,” said Mason, “but why don’t you think Chad killed himself?” He eyed dead Chad, who continued to stand behind Cissy, as if wanting to hear the story, too.

“Because Chad would never do that,” said Cissy. “He wasn’t depressed. Maybe we were going through a rough patch, but it certainly didn’t warrant suicide.”

“I agree,” said Trick. “Chad loved life. He’d never off himself.”

Dead Chad’s gaze briefly flicked over to Trick, but then returned to Mason.

“You said you were going through a rough patch?” asked Mason. “What do you mean?”

Cissy took a deep breath and discussed how after their move, Chad had spent more time at work, and less with her, and she’d been lonely and homesick, and she’d taken it out on Chad.

“Cissy,” said Trick. “Chad told me he had wanted to talk to me about something not long before he died. You have any idea what it was about?”

Cissy, nodded and swallowed. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I think so.”

For the first time, dead Chad looked at his wife.

“What’s that?” asked Mason.

Cissy’s eyes filled. “He’d had an affair.” She spoke softly, and wiped her eyes. “My parents don’t know yet. I haven’t told them.”

Just then, Marsha walked into the room with a tray. “Here we are. Some tea and coffee, and a few cookies.” She set it down on the table in front of the couch.

Dennis followed with a large pot. “Black coffee and plenty of it.” He added it to the tray and pulled a flask from his pocket. “In case you want to add anything to your drinks.” He waved it and put it next to the coffee. “Take as much as you want. I’ve got more in the kitchen.”

“Thank you,” said Trick, his eyes on Cissy, who sniffed again.

“Oh, honey,” said Marsha. “Are you okay?” She grabbed a tissue from a box on an end table and handed it to Cissy.

“I’m fine, Mom. Thanks.” Cissy took the tissue and dabbed her eyes.

Dennis helped himself to a cup of coffee. “C’mon, Marsha. Let’s let them talk.” He took his wife’s elbow. “We’ll be in the kitchen.” He led her out of the room.

Trick rubbed his palms down his jeans. “You want something, Cissy?” He grabbed a cup.

“Some tea, please,” said Cissy.

“I’ll get it,” said Mason. He grabbed a teabag and added it to a cup and poured some hot water from a teapot. “Sugar?”

Cissy shook her head, and he handed her the drink and made one for himself. Dead Chad remained quietly behind Cissy.

Trick got himself some coffee. “Are you sure? About the affair? I can’t believe Chad would do that to you.”

Cissy sipped her tea. “I’m sure.”

Mason thought about Lydia Stanford. “Do you know who it was? Who he had the affair with?” He sipped his own tea.

“A woman from work,” said Cissy.

“Hell,” said Trick, sitting back on the couch. “I just don’t understand it.” He blew on his coffee. “Did you tell the cops?”

“Yes. Of course. She was my first thought. It made sense. Chad had broken it off, and she’d retaliated. It had to have been her. At least that’s what I thought. I figured the detectives would bring her in and question her, and then I’d be cleared. Until they told me she was dead, too.”

Dead Chad made his first movement then. He reached up and touched his wounded head, and then looked at his bloody fingers as if surprised. Mason tried not to stare.

“You didn’t say how you knew he’d been cheating,” said Mason. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” said Cissy. “I came out and asked him, and he didn’t deny it. Said it was over though, and he knew he’d made a terrible mistake, and it would never happen again.” Cissy gripped her cup, her eyes narrowed. “That he loved me, and didn’t want anyone else.” Her jaw set. “I asked him who it was, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

Mason made eye contact with Trick, and Trick asked the obvious question. “Then how’d you know who he’d slept with? How could you tell the police?”

Cissy stiffened in her seat. “Because I’m not stupid, Trick. Chad spent most of his time at work, or at least that’s what he told me. I assumed it had to be someone from the office.” In her first sign of anger, she leaned over and grabbed her father’s flask. She opened it and poured some liquid from it into her tea.

“I’ll take some of that, too,” said Trick.

Mason glared, but Trick glared back. “Give me a break. It’s just a shot to take the edge off.”

Cissy sipped her tea, squinted, and cleared her throat. “It’s whiskey.” She handed the flask to Trick.

“Perfect,” said Trick, adding some to his coffee. “Red?” He offered the flask to Mason.

A trickle of blood dribbled down dead Chad’s forehead, and Mason broke out in chills. He took the flask from Trick. “Maybe just a touch.” He added a little to his tea.

“Good,” said Trick. “You need to relax.”

Mason frowned at Trick. “How’d you find out who it was?” he asked Cissy. He closed the flask and returned it to the tray.

“We went to a company picnic this past summer.” Cissy took another sip of her drink. “I’d suspected that he’d been cheating, but I hadn’t confronted him yet. I’d gone to the bathroom, and when I came back, Chad was gone. One of the women there told me to check behind the bleachers and gave me a look that told me something was