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

his hallway leads to a stairwell which exits to the parking lot.”

“So?” asked Trick.

Bevins sipped his soda. “Whoever it was, avoided the parking lot cameras, and obviously knew where they were, so it was someone familiar with the lot and office area. Cissy obviously was since she’d been there several times.”

“Anyone who works there would know about those cameras,” said Mason. “Including Lydia.”

“Lydia’s dead, which makes her hard to accuse,” said Bevins.

“You mean it doesn’t fit the story you’re trying to create for a jury,” said Trick. He leaned in. “You know damned well it could have been Lydia in that office.”

“Listen,” said Winkler. “We have to follow where the clues lead us. Either way, whether it was Cissy or Lydia, Lydia is the one who is dead. And that points the finger toward Cissy.”

“And Lydia’s death, although ruled an accident, is suspicious.” Bevins spoke through a mouthful of sandwich. “Woman had a blood alcohol level worthy of Santa after his Christmas eve run, a busted head and water in her lungs, so she likely fell, hit her head and drowned, but we can’t rule out she was pushed.”

“And if she was, could it have been Cissy? Did they have another fight? Maybe,” said Winkler. She took another bite of salad.

“But even if we can’t get her on Lydia’s death, we can sure as hell get her on Chad’s,” said Bevins. “No alibi. No witnesses, other than a camera showing her come and go from the scene. Plenty of motive and familiar with hand guns, particularly Chad’s hand gun.”

“She had no residue on her,” said Trick.

Winkler put her fork down and picked up her own sandwich. “Easy enough to prevent, if you’ve planned ahead. All she had to do was wear gloves, shoot Chad, then take the gloves off, along with the clothes she’s wearing, rinse off and change, go run your errands, and dump the clothes and gloves somewhere in between. Easy enough. Plus, Chad used to be a cop. Cissy would have known about residue and how to hide it.”

“Have you found these dumped clothes?” asked Mason.

“No. But it doesn’t matter. It makes sense, and a jury will likely agree,” said Winkler.

“What about a second phone?” asked Mason. “Did Chad have one?”

“He did,” said Winkler. “A work phone, but we never found it. We figure it was dumped with the clothes.”

“And before you ask,” said Bevins. “We checked the phone records on it. He’d made calls to both Cissy and Lydia, and before you get worked up that he spoke to Lydia, we know it was a work phone and they were co-workers. No big shakes there.”

“And if he had a second phone he hid from his wife,” said Winkler. “We never found it. Probably dumped by Cissy, too.”

“You two sure do make a lot of assumptions,” said Trick.

“We have all the evidence we need when it comes to a conviction,” said Bevins, settling back in his seat.

“That’s exactly what scares me.” Trick set his jaw. “Have you done any investigating into Lydia Stanford?”

“Other than trying to put Cissy at the scene of her death? No. What for?” asked Bevins, taking another bite of food.

“Because maybe there’s more to this,” said Trick, rapidly tapping his fingers on the table. “And I think you two are more interested in your supposed conviction, instead of the truth.”

“Trick…” said Mason.

“It’s okay,” said Winkler. “I can tell you’re frustrated. She’s your sister-in-law, and it can be hard to see a loved one go down this road.” She dunked more lettuce in her side of dressing. “Why don’t you tell us what you think happened?”

“This ought to be good,” said Bevins.

Mason frowned, but didn’t respond.

“If you’d bothered to look, you’d know Lydia had a slew of issues,” said Trick. “Her family is a mess, her brother’s picture is posted beside the definition of hoodlum, her mother and sister are alcoholics, and her old boyfriend harassed her. Any one of them could be responsible for her death and could have killed Chad, too.”

Bevins chewed his food, and Winkler sipped her milk. “You got any evidence to support that?” asked Bevins, with a belch. “Excuse me.”

“Did any of them threaten Lydia or Chad?” asked Winkler. “Any links to Chad’s gun? Do any of them have a history of serious violence? Did they have a motive to kill Chad? Were they at Chad and Cissy’s place the day of the crime?”

“Not according to the video,” chuckled Bevins.

“That’s another thing,” said Trick. “There was a vacant apartment near Chad and Cissy’s. An assailant could have hidden there before and after the crime, while you two wandered around, scratching your asses.”

Mason sighed and closed his eyes.

“We found cigarette butts in that room,” said Trick. “Someone was hanging out in there, and if you’d bothered to check, you might have found them yourselves.”

Bevins wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Cigarette butts?” He raised a brow. “I’ll call my captain. You’ve broken this case wide open. Who do they belong to?”

“Any DNA on them?” asked Winkler.

“Unlikely,” said Mason, realizing this visit was a mistake. “One was on the patio and two were in the toilet.”

“Much like your theories,” said Bevins.

“Without DNA, they’re worthless. They could have been smoked by the last tenant for all you know.” Winkler ate one of Bevin’s chips.

“The point us, there is reason to look for someone else outside of Cissy,” said Trick.

“We go where the evidence takes us, Cowboy,” said Bevins. “I’m sure you two did the same when you were Rangers.” He bit into his sandwich.

“We did our job as Rangers and followed all the evidence,” said Trick. “Not just the ones that supported our assumptions and solidified a conviction, even if it was wrong.”

Winkler calmly chewed and swallowed a bite of food. “You seem pretty sure.”

“Cissy wouldn’t kill anybody,” said Trick. “That I know.”

“We’d just like to be sure and rule out any other possibilities,” said Mason. “If Cissy’s going to get a fair trial, it’s important.”

“Is that the plan then?” asked Bevins,