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

Some jealous boyfriend slugged Trick, and I jumped in.”

“You realize Trick is always the instigator in these stories?”

“You’d think I would have learned by now.” Mason shook his head. “I can’t plead innocence, though. I’ve had a few regrettable moments. I’ve just kept those stories to myself.”

Mikey raised an eyebrow. “Trick and I need to talk.”

Mason offered her a sideways glance. “Don’t believe a word he says.”

Mikey smiled. “Back to Bradley. I think he seems a little wimpy if you ask me.”

“If there’s one thing I know about criminals, Mikey, is that when it comes to money, anything can change. I say we squeeze a little and see what pops out.”

“Eww.”

Mason took another bite of his sandwich.

Chapter Twenty

Trick walked to a table, pulled out a chair and sat. He tossed his hat onto the tabletop beside him. Tossing an ankle on his knee, he pointed at Valerie, who stood and narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve been following me.”

Her back straight, she crossed her arms, and Trick wondered what she was thinking.

“I’m guessing it’s not because of my good looks.” He offered her a charming grin. “But if it is, I’ll happily give you my number.”

Her eyes narrowed further, and he sensed her irritation. He decided to keep pushing.

“Vain?” He tipped his head. “That name’s familiar. How do I know it?” He pushed up in his seat. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Alfred Vain, would you?”

Her eyes flared, and she walked closer. “He’s my brother.”

Trick nodded, beginning to understand. “My condolences.”

“He’s not dead, you idiot, but not from your lack of trying.”

“I know he’s not dead, but I still think you deserve some measure of empathy.”

“You shot him.”

“He pulled his weapon.”

“Freddy suffers from mental illness. He’s OCD, depressed, and has PTSD.”

“His gun didn’t have a mental illness.”

Her gaze hardened. “If you weren’t so damn trigger happy, you could have avoided that confrontation. But you were probably drunk, and figured let’s just shoot and ask questions later.”

Trick recalled his confrontation with Alfred Vain, when Trick was still uniform. Vain had robbed several grocery stores and was cornered in a parking lot, threatening to shoot himself or anyone who came near him. Trick had talked to him for a good thirty minutes, until a loud backfire from a car in the lot had freaked Alfred out, and he’d panicked and raised his weapon. Trick had fired, and Alfred had been hit in the stomach, but had lived, although whether he’d walk again remained in question. That was the last Trick had heard of him. “You two must be close. Not many people chase down a Texas Ranger to get revenge for a sibling, and then try to prove that Ranger guilty of murder. That’s dedication.”

“Former Texas Ranger…and if the shoe fits.”

He patted his knee. “You obviously know a lot about me. How about you tell me a little about yourself?”

“I don’t have to tell you shit about me.”

Trick shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you’ve been chasing me around town. Now you’ve got me right in front of you. You want to talk, then let’s talk.” He leaned his chair onto its two back feet and balanced there. “You won’t get this opportunity again.”

“You want me to sit with you so you can lie to me? Why would I waste my time?”

He set his chair back down. “What are you hoping for? You’re obviously smart enough to know about my involvement with Cissy Howard, and you were smart enough to go talk to Mason, knowing he’d be furious and confront me, thus sending me out to hopefully hang my head on Cissy’s shoulder, and then you’d get the money shot, right? Of me with Cissy? And once you had that, Bevins and Winkler would have a pretty new photo to add to their collection, and bye-bye Trick.” He leaned over. “Am I close?”

If a look could blast lasers, then Valerie’s would have cut Trick’s heart out. He raised a hand. “Well, I’m still walking around, and you standing there wishing I was dead is pointless. The money shot is history, Val, so what are you going to do? Glare and hope a bolt of lightning strikes me?”

“I can dream, can’t I?”

He chuckled. “If I had a dollar for everyone who wanted me dead, well…” he thought about it. “I’d probably have a crisp twenty, maybe thirty dollars, in my wallet. It’s not much, but it’s more impressive than most.”

“You think you’re so damn charming, don’t you?”

The kitchen door opened, and the woman with the hairnet-covered bun came in, carrying a pie and a cup of coffee. She set them in front of Trick. “Here you are, sugar. You want anything else?”

“Charlotte, you are a life saver. What would I do without you?”

Charlotte blushed. “Oh, honey. You make me feel like a school girl on prom night. What would I do without you?”

“I bet you made your handsome date very happy that night.”

Charlotte fanned herself. “Honey, you have no idea.” She eyed Valerie. “Can I get you somethin’, sweetie?”

“No─”

“She’ll take some pie, too,” said Trick. “She needs it.” He added a little cream to his coffee and stirred it. “Get her some coffee, also. It’s on me.”

“Sure thing, sugar.” She looked back at Val. “Our Key Lime is the best.”

“Damn straight,” said Trick, taking a bite.

“Be right back.” Charlotte headed toward the kitchen.

“Take your time, Miss Charlotte,” said Trick, through a mouthful. “We’re not going anywhere.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Man, that’s good.” He cracked an eye open at Valerie. “Yeah, I admit. I’m a little charming.” He winked at her. “But it’s in my blood. I once convinced a lovely lady to let me take her husband’s seat on an airline when her husband was late. Then I had to charm the flight attendant to let me keep the seat when she realized it wasn’t my ticket. It’s one of my better stories.”

“Not that hard to do when you can flash a badge in their face.”

“No badge to