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it and the pencil away. “Just because we leave, doesn’t mean we’re done.”

Bradley stepped back from Mason. “You two are chasing windmills,” said Bradley. “You go right ahead and waste your time, but you keep harassing me and my family, and I’ll happily call the cops and complain.” He sat on the couch. “Now if you don’t mind, Bonanza’s coming on, and I’d like to watch.”

He stared, waiting, and Mason returned to the door. “We’ll be in touch, Bradley.”

Bradley drank some more beer. “I’ll call the party planners. Get some balloons for your next visit.”

Mason opened the door. “C’mon, Mikey.” She walked out, and he followed.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Valerie sat in her car, parked along a curb just down from the small house encircled by a white porch. A wooden swing hanging outside the front picture window gently rocked in the breeze. “You think Lydia’s mother knows something?”

Trick held Valerie’s binoculars and looked toward the house. “Despite your belief to the contrary, Cissy and I did not kill Chad. Which leads us to Lydia, Chad’s mistress, who drowned in a pool two weeks before Chad.”

“And you’re convinced her death is connected to Chad’s.”

“I am.”

“And Cissy didn’t do it?”

“No.”

Valerie chuckled. “You really are something, aren’t you? The lengths you’ll go to convince me that you and Cissy are innocent. Let me ask you something. How long do we play this game before I take you in?”

He put the binoculars down. “We play it until we know.”

“But I do know.”

He resumed watching. “You have much to learn, Miss Vain. Anger and revenge have no business in a murder investigation. You want to find a killer? Keep your emotions out of it.”

“You’re a regular Ranger Yoda, aren’t you?” She eyed the house. “You’re trying to tell me you’re keeping your emotions out of this?”

The side of his mouth quirked up. “Touché, Miss Vain. But if I thought Cissy had killed someone, I’d reluctantly bring her in and fight like hell to defend her.” He lowered the binoculars. “Like you and your brother.”

Valerie frowned.

“You and I have more in common than you think,” said Trick. He grinned. “Doesn’t that just piss you off?”

“I want to shoot you just thinking about it.”

“Get in line, Miss Vain. Get in line.” He returned to watching the house.

“Why are we surveilling the home? Why don’t we just go talk to her?”

“Patience, Valerie. Sometimes it doesn’t hurt to get the lay of the land before we approach.”

She tapped the steering wheel. “What makes you so convinced she knows something? What if Lydia really did get drunk, hit her head and fall in the pool? It sounds like she was messed up enough.”

“If Lydia died in an accident,” he thought of Detective Bevins, “I’ll eat my hat.”

“Remind me to buy you some Pepto Bismol.”

“Give it to Detective Bevins. He’ll need it more than me.” He continued to watch the house. “But I do like your spirit, Valerie. Keeps me on my toes.” He pointed. “There’s a car in the driveway.”

“Wow. You are good at this. Let’s call Bevins and Winkler and let them know.”

“It’s not her car, or her husband’s.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Mason’s not the only one with connections. I still have a few friends on the force. Much to your dismay.”

She scoffed. “That car could belong to a friend, or a repairman, or her damned psychic.”

“Or…perhaps someone else.”

Valerie squinted to see movement on the porch. A woman stood at the front door, and a man with her. Based on their nearness, and their body language, he was more than a friend. “Let me see.”

Trick handed her the binoculars and she eyed the couple standing outside the door. “That’s not her husband?”

The woman smiled, and the man pulled her close.

“No. It is not.”

Valerie saw the woman’s hand on the man’s butt, and the couple kissed.

“I think Lydia’s mom has a secret,” said Trick.

“What secret? She’s basically kissing him in the front yard.”

Trick shrugged. “If she’s been drinking, I suspect she doesn’t care. And the neighbors may be used to it. Question is, is the husband?”

Valerie lowered the binoculars. “How in the world does this help us…I mean help you? Who cares if she’s cheating on her husband?”

“All information has value. She has some, and now so do we.”

“What information does she have?”

“Family, Miss Vain. If anyone knows their kids, it’s mom.” He pointed. “And if her kids are somehow involved in Lydia or Chad’s death, then she knows something. Maybe not everything, but something.”

Valerie handed him the binoculars. “I take it back. You’re not Ranger Yoda. More like Ranger Scooby-Doo.”

His grin flashed again. “Learn from me, Miss Vain. You might be surprised what you find out.” He took the binoculars.

“Just don’t give me anything I need to take a pill for.”

“That, my dear, is entirely up to you.”

The man left the porch, went to his car, and drove off as the woman watched and then returned inside.

Trick gestured toward the house. “How about we go pay a visit to the lovely Mrs. Stanford, or whatever her name is now?”

Valerie debated, her mind warring with her, but she started the car, and drove down the street.

**

Mason sat at the small table and handed Mikey her cone with a scoop of chocolate chip. He set his cup down and grabbed a napkin.

“Don’t tell me,” said Mikey, eyeing his ice cream. “Vanilla. You really should branch out more.”

“I like vanilla. It was mom’s favorite, too.”

“True, but she lathered hot fudge all over it, added whip cream and a cherry. It’s called a sundae.”

Thinking back, he laughed. “I remember when she bought a shake and spilled it down the console of Max’s new car. She and I furiously tried to clean it up and she swore me to secrecy for life.”

Mikey laughed, too. “Max knew. He found the cherry under the front seat.”

Mason smiled and took a bite. “I miss her.”

“Me, too,” said Mikey, licking her ice cream. “She’d have been all over this case. She liked Trick, and he was smitten with

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