by Terri Reid
Mary pulled out one book that she’d set to the side. It was Bradley’s senior year, and she had found some fairly intriguing photos of him as the captain of the swim team. Opening the book to the page she’d bookmarked, she smiled at the photo of her husband in his youth. “You were a hunk then, and you’re a hunk now,” she whispered.
“Ah, appreciating the anatomy of the male species?” Mrs. Penfield asked, appearing next to her. Mary blushed.
“Well, I’m…” she paused.
Mrs. Penfield laughed. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” she said. “Your Mr. Alden was one of the best looking students we had at the high school.”
Mary turned, surprised at the teacher’s comment.
“What?” Mrs. Penfield asked with a smile. “Just because we were teachers doesn’t mean we were blind. We never did anything inappropriate, but we also were grateful for the opportunity to see good-looking students.” She winked at Mary. “There were enough of the other kind to keep us firmly grounded.”
Mary chuckled softly. “I never thought of it that way,” she said, and then she sighed. “I’ve looked through nine years of books, and I don’t see her at all. This is so strange. They had to go to school together, didn’t they? How else would she know him?”
“Well, perhaps her brother was on the swim team, and she went to the meets?” Mrs. Penfield suggested. “And perhaps one of Bradley’s friends who wasn’t on the team had a little sister who had a crush on him.”
Nodding, Mary slid the final book back onto the pile. “You’re right,” she said. “This could be a long search.” She lifted half the stack and carried them over to the shelf. “I’m having lunch with Bradley’s friend Rick Thomas. Perhaps I’ll ask him for some names of Bradley’s friends.”
Mrs. Penfield studied Mary for a moment. “Rick Thomas?” she questioned. “Really? Well, isn’t that interesting.”
After sliding the books into place, Mary turned to the old teacher. “Why do you say that?” she asked.
“Rick will be an interesting person for you to get to know,” Mrs. Penfield said. “And I think you’ll be good for him.”
“I always worry when teachers tell me that something is going to be good for me,” Mary replied with a smile. “That tends to mean there’s going to be some hard work involved.”
Mrs. Penfield chuckled and shook her head. “No, no hard work,” she said. “Just a new way of looking at things.”
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Sue asked, coming up behind Mary, her arms filled with the remainder of the books she’d left on the table.
“Oh, you didn’t need to do that,” Mary said as Sue slipped the books in place. “I was just cleaning up.”
“I saw that,” Sue replied. “And I just thought I’d help.” She looked pointedly at Mary’s belly. “You look like you have enough to carry.”
Smiling, Mary nodded. “Actually, it’s not that bad,” she said. “But I appreciate your help.”
“So, did you find what you were looking for?” Sue repeated.
“No, I’m afraid not,” Mary replied. “I guess I’ll need to come back and expand my search.”
“Why don’t you give me your contact information,” Sue suggested, “just in case we run across something that will help?”
“Thank you,” Mary replied, handing Sue a business card. “That would be wonderful.”
Sue glanced around quickly and then lowered her voice. “You mentioned you see ghosts,” she said. “Have you, er, seen anyone since you’ve been here?”
Nodding, Mary leaned toward Sue. “There have been three here,” she said. “You know about Fred, and he is quite a dapper gentleman and very friendly. Although, it seems he has a wicked sense of humor.”
“Sounds just like him,” Sue agreed.
“Then there’s Miss Flora,” Mary said.
Sue looked surprised. “Really? Miss Flora is here?” she asked, looking around.
“Well, she only stopped by for a moment to shush us,” Mary said with a smile. “Then she moved on to the library. It sounds like you know about her.”
“Miss Flora was the first librarian in Sycamore,” Sue explained. “She actually troweled the cement onto the first brick that was laid for this building back in 1905. But she got sick and died before the building was completed.”
“Well, it would make sense that she would want to be here,” Mary said. “Wouldn’t it?”
“It certainly would,” Sue replied. “And the third?”
Mary looked past Sue to where Mrs. Penfield was standing and lifted her eyebrow in question. Mrs. Penfield cordially nodded, giving Mary permission. “The last ghost is Mrs. Penfield, a teacher from the high school,” Mary said.
“I had Mrs. Penfield when I went to Sycamore High,” Sue exclaimed, glancing around. “She was my favorite teacher. It’s so lovely that she’s here. Does she like it here?”
“I love it here,” Mrs. Penfield replied.
“She loves it here,” Mary said.
Sue shook her head in wonder. “Thank you for coming by today,” she said. “I’m afraid you’ve given us more answers than we’ve given you.”
“Oh, I loved being here,” Mary replied. “And I promise you I’ll be back.”
Chapter Eighteen
Mary met Rick at a fast food restaurant about three miles away from the library. It was famous for its Chicago-style hot dogs and Italian beef. Once seated, Rick looked across the table at Mary’s meal, a Chicago-style hot dog, cheese fries and a chocolate shake, and shook his head.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I should have suggested a healthier place.”
Mary picked up the hot dog in both hands and looked over at him. “Are you kidding?” she asked incredulously. “This is a pregnant woman’s dream come true.” She brought the hot dog to her mouth and took a big bite. “Besides,” she murmured as she chewed, “I can tell Bradley I had vegetables for lunch.”
Rick chuckled. “Yes, I see vegetables all over that hot dog,” he said skeptically.
“Excuse me?” Mary replied. “Tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, celery salt…”
“Wait. You can’t use celery salt as a vegetable,” Rick argued.
“Why not?” Mary asked. “It came from a celery.”
Rick nearly choked on his French fry. “I can see I’m not going to win this argument,” he stated.
Mary grinned. “No, I’ve had months of practice,” she said. “Let’s see, potatoes and then there’s all the beans.”
“Beans?” he asked, looking confused.
Mary picked up her shake. “The chocolate comes for cocoa beans, and beans are a vegetable.”
“You are amazing,” he said. “But actually, beans are legumes.”
Mary nodded. “Okay, I had vegetables, grains, dairy and legumes for lunch,” she said easily as she dipped a fry into the cheese sauce. “How healthy am I?”
He sat back in his seat and stared at her for a moment. “Does Bradley have any idea what he’s up against?” he asked a few moments later.
Her grin widened, and she nodded. “Oh yes,” she said. “And he gave up a long time ago.”
His smile turned into laughter, and it took him several moments before he was able to speak again. “Wow,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”
Mary studied the man sitting across from him. His skin had a pale pallor, and his eyes were shadowed. She could believe that he hadn’t laughed, or even smiled in a long time. “Why?” she asked.
“Why what?” he replied, confused.
“Why haven’t you laughed like that in a long time?” she asked, the laughter gone from her voice.
He picked up a narrow fry and tentatively dipped it in some ketchup. “I don’t really know,” he said. “I feel like it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to be happy.”
“Can you remember when it started?” Mary asked.
He chewed on the fry for a moment as he thought back and then l
ooked at her. “I guess the last time I can remember being happy was at boot camp,” he said. “I seemed to have changed when I went overseas.”
“So, this is beginning to get really personal,” Mary said, wondering why Mike had wanted her to speak with Rick, because this seemed like it was way out her league. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But could it be PTSD?”
He sighed and picked up another fry. “You know, actually, I thought it could be,” he said. “And I actually went in for counseling. But nothing. After a couple of years, even the counselors didn’t know what to do with me.”
He smiled sadly and shrugged. “I guess I just get to be sad.”
Mary bent down to pick up another fry, but as she bent, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something. Lifting her head, she studied Rick.
“What?” he asked.
Shaking her head, she smiled. “Sorry, I just thought I saw something,” she replied and then shrugged. “But nothing’s there.”
“Funny you should say that,” Rick said. “I’m always catching glimpses of things in mirrors or windows as I walk by.” He wagged his eyebrows at her. “Like I’m being followed.”
“So, you admit to being a spy,” she replied in her best Russian accent.
He grinned. “I admit nothing,” he said, imitating her accent.
“Well, admit it or not,” she said, her voice serious again. “I’d really like to help you figure out what’s going on.”
“Are you a doctor or something?” Rick asked.
She shook her head. “No, just a friend,” she said.
“I could actually use more of those,” he said, his smile heartfelt. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Mary said. “I haven’t done anything yet. But, I could use your help.”
“Sure. Anything.”
“Do you remember any of Bradley’s friends who had sisters who might have had a crush on him?”
He sat back and nodded. “How much time do you have?”
Mary sighed dramatically and pulled a notepad out of her purse. “Okay, I’m ready,” she said. “And I’ve got an extra pen just in case I run out of ink.”
Chapter Nineteen
Mary arrived home a little before four p.m. and was surprised to find Bradley’s cruiser parked in front of the house. She hurried from her car to the house and carefully opened the door, peeking into the house to avoid any jealous poltergeist or, at the very least, flying objects. “Is the coast clear?” she called out.
Bradley came walking out of the kitchen into the living room, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Hey, welcome home,” he said. “It looks like things are quiet so far.”
Mary slipped into the house and closed the door behind her. “How was your day?” she asked, walking over to Bradley and lacing her arms around his neck.
“It’s getting better,” he replied, smiling down at her and then kissing her soundly. “Much better.”
She grinned up at him. “You say the nicest things,” she replied, “especially when you know that I had lunch with your best friend from high school and I have all kinds of dirt on you.”
“Oh really?” he asked, cocking his head slightly to the side. “And what dirt is that?”
“Well, I have a long list of friends’ siblings who were head-over-heels in love with you,” she said.
He shook his head. “It couldn’t be that long,” he said. “I really was a dork in high school.”
She looked up at him and saw that he really believed it. Stretching up, she kissed him and smiled. “You really are adorable,” she said. She slipped out of his arms, took her coat off and hung it in the closet. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “By the way, Mrs. Penfield thought you were a hunk.”
He thought about the comment for a moment. “I’m feeling a little uneasy about knowing that,” he said. “Actually, the term would be creeped out.”
Mary laughed. “And so you should be,” she teased. “But she was very helpful at the Joiner Room.”
“Did you have any luck?” he asked.
“No, I checked nine yearbooks, and our visitor is not in any of them,” she replied. “So, I’ll have to make another trip back there and see what I can find. How about you? Any luck with Eddie, the Koch’s son?”
“Yeah, I…” he began, but stopped when the doorbell rang.
Bradley walked past Mary and opened the door. “Hi,” he said. “Just in time.”
Just in time, Mary wondered.
She didn’t wonder long. Rosie, Stanley and Margo came into her home, each carrying a dish. “I asked Bradley if we could bring dinner over tonight,” Rosie announced, walking past Mary to the kitchen. “And then we could discuss the case.”
“Oh,” Mary said, a little overwhelmed. “Well, that’s nice.”
“I made pot roast,” Rosie said.
“And homemade Parker rolls,” Stanley added.
“With chocolate cake,” Margo said.
Mary felt an answering rumble in her stomach and smiled. “Wow. This is the way to work on a case.”
A few minutes later, they were all seated around the kitchen table, and Bradley started to finish what he began to say to Mary. “I did a background check on their son,” he said. “And, except for some financial issues, the guy’s clean. He didn’t even have an overdue parking ticket.”
“How about the car?” Stanley asked as he liberally buttered a roll. “Did they find the brake cables had been tampered with?”
Bradley looked over at Stanley and sadly shook his head. “They didn’t look,” he said.
“What?” Stanley asked.
“The car was totaled in the accident,” he explained. “And because of the age of the driver…”
“Because he was an old guy they figured he just drove off the road?” Stanley asked heatedly.
Nodding, Bradley continued. “Since they had no reason to suspect foul play, they just treated it like a car accident.”
“So, if it were a murder, we have no evidence,” Margo said.
Bradley shook his head. “No, I checked, and the car was crushed,” he said. “So, no physical evidence.”
“Well, there’s always circumstantial evidence,” Margo said with determination. “My daughter does a lot with circumstantial evidence. So, what’s our next step?”
“I’d like to meet with Eddie,” Mary said, “and just talk to him about his parents. Maybe get an idea of how he feels about their death.”
“By the way,” Bradley said, “he hasn’t taken any of their money.”
“What?” Stanley asked.
“He hasn’t touched a cent of their estate,” Bradley replied.
“Well, that’s one way to throw them off the trail,” Stanley grumbled.
“What trail?” Rosie asked. “Everyone thought it was an accident. There is no trail.”
Stanley grumbled and bit the end off a roll. “Well, you can’t be too careful iffen you’re feeling like people are watching you.”
Margo looked at Stanley, and Rosie and bit back a chuckle. “Well, while you speak with Eddie, we could talk to some of their friends and see if anyone else could be a suspect,” she suggested.
Stanley hit his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump, and then chuckling he nodded. “That’s exactly what we should be doing, hunting for other guilty parties,” he said. “We could talk to some of my buddies at the VFW. They’d be able to help us put together a list.”
“But we have to be careful,” Margo inserted. “We can’t give away too much. One of them might be the murderer.”
Stanley looked aghast. “Not one of the guys at the VFW,” he said. “I’d…”
“If you say you’d stake your life on it, Stanley Wagner, I’ll…I’ll…well, I don’t know what I’ll do,” Rosie said. “You don’t know any of those men except for meetings and dinners. You have no idea what they would do.”
Stanley sighed. “Okay, we’ll be sneaky-like,” he said.
Margo smiled. “I love being sneaky,” she said, scooping a little more potatoes and vegetables onto her plate. “It’s actually one of my most favorite things to do.”
Chapter Twenty
“I forgot to ask you,” Bradley said later that evening as they were cleaning up the kitchen together. “How was your lunch with Rick?”
After their guests had left, they’d run over to the Brennans to visit with Clarissa for a little while and then had come home to clean things up. Mary handed Bradley a wet platter to dry and then reached into the sink and pulled out the drain, letting the water slowly escape. “He’s a really nice guy,” she said. “And he had a few great stories about you.” She paused and leaned against the counter. “But there are a couple of things that really trouble me about him.”
Bradley wiped the platter and then placed it up on one of the top shelves. “What?”
“Well, first, he said that he hadn’t been happy in a long time,” she said, shaking her head. “It was so sad. He couldn’t even remember when it started. All he could remember was being happy in boot camp.”
Nodding, Bradley took his damp dishtowel and hung it over the rack next to the sink. “I remember him in boot camp,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong. It was hard, but somehow Rick made it a lot easier for the rest of us. His personality, his joking, made it bearable.”
“So did you notice a change in him?” Mary asked.
He thought about his answer for a minute. “Yeah, I guess after we’d served overseas, things seemed different,” he said. “I mean, I don’t think we really understood what was going to happen when we went to war. You think when you’re young that it’s all glory, that there’s a definite right and wrong, black and white—no gray areas. But when you get over there, you realize that it’s dirty, messy, exhausting, unfair and the furthest thing from what you’d imagined it to be. It kind of changes everyone.”
“But with Rick it was different?” she prompted.
He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, now that I think about it, it was different with him,” he replied. “I wonder if he has PTSD.”
