Deadly Circumstances

by Terri Reid

  “Maybe we should discuss this later,” Rosie suggested.

  Melvin slid the paper over to Margo. “Why don’t you look it over, and then maybe you and I could meet together?” he said, an eager glint in his eye.

  Margo took the paper and nodded. “Thank you, Melvin,” she said. “I’ll look it over and get back to you.”

  “Make sure you bring enough money to pay your own way,” Butch inserted. “Mel’s known for being on the cheap side.”

  Lowering her head to hide her smile, Margo missed the look that passed between the two men. And had she seen it, she might have had a totally different idea about the investigation.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Mary slowly opened her eyes. She didn’t know where she was or, actually, what day of the week it was. She stared at the material in front of her for a moment, squinting her eyes to bring it into focus. She finally recognized it. It was the back of the couch. She must have fallen asleep on the couch. She slowly rolled over and discovered there was an afghan tucked around her.

  “Did I wake you up?” Bradley asked, sitting across from her. “I’m so sorry.”

  She stretched and then shook her head. “No. I just woke up on my own,” she said. “How long have I been sleeping?”

  “Well, you were crashed out when I got home about an hour ago,” he said. “That’s when I tucked you in. And it’s nearly three.”

  Her eyes popped open. “Are you kidding?” she asked. “Nearly three? I sat down at one. I’ve been asleep for two hours.”

  He smiled at her. “You must have needed it,” he said.

  “I actually do feel pretty great,” she admitted, sitting up and stretching again. She paused. “And I’m starving.”

  Laughing, Bradley stood up and helped Mary off the couch. “Well, I’m sure we can find something for lunch,” he said. “What sounds good?”

  “Chocolate cake?” she asked with a grin.

  He shook his head. “Real food first,” he said. “Then dessert.”

  She paused, looked down at her belly and then looked up at him. “Do I look like an elephant?” she asked.

  Bradley smiled down at Mary and shook his head. “No, you don’t look like an elephant,” he said. “Why would you think that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Something I read somewhere,” she said with a sigh. “It just feels like I’ve been pregnant forever.”

  He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “You are perfect,” he said. “You are adorable. And I think you are still the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  She laid her head against his chest and sighed happily. “Thank you,” she said. “I needed that.”

  He slipped his arm around her shoulders and led her across the room to the kitchen. “So, how was your day?” he asked.

  “Good,” she said, leaning against him. “I spoke with Eddie, Shirley’s and Frasier’s son. I spoke with Shirley and Frasier. And I didn’t get attacked by a poltergeist when I came home.”

  “Wow, sounds like a winner,” Bradley said with a smile. “What did you think of Eddie?”

  She walked over to the cupboards and pulled out a few plates. “I liked him,” she said. “And I find it hard to believe he murdered his parents.”

  Bradley opened the refrigerator and pulled out a container of sliced roast beef and some cheese. “So, does that mean you’re ruling him out?” he asked as he balanced lettuce, pickles and mayonnaise in his arms.

  Crossing over to help him, Mary shook her head as she grabbed the lettuce and pickle jar. “No,” she said, placing the items on the counter. “I need more information before I do that.”

  “Okay, I might have a little more information for you,” he said. “I saw Eddie at the junkyard this afternoon.”

  She opened the pickle jar, pulled out a spear and bit into it. “At the junkyard?” she asked.

  “You need some ice cream with that?” Bradley asked with a grin.

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Very funny,” she said, taking another bite. “No. I don’t want ice cream.” And then she smiled. “I want chocolate cake.”

  “With pickles?” he asked. “That’s gross.”

  She grinned. “Yes. Yes it is,” she said. “So, what was Eddie doing at the junk yard?”

  “Well, it turns out the Koch’s car didn’t get destroyed,” he said. “Gregg’s been keeping it at the junkyard in a fenced off area, out of sight. Eddie stopped by this afternoon to ask Gregg to crush it. The sooner the better.”

  “Crap,” Mary said with a sigh. “I really liked him. He totally snookered me.”

  Bradley shrugged. “Well, we don’t know anything yet,” he said. “But let’s keep him on the top of our suspects list.”

  Mary bit down on her pickle spear. “Yeah, good idea.”

  A few minutes later, Mary carried two plates with sandwiches over to the kitchen table. “Milk?” Bradley asked, standing next to the open fridge.

  “Well, I would really like a diet…”

  “Milk?” Bradley asked, interrupting her.

  Sighing, she nodded. “Yes, fine, milk,” she said.

  He pulled the carton out of the fridge and then turned to her. “If you really want…”

  She shook her head. “No, I really need to drink some milk today,” she said with a sigh. She sat down at the table. “It’s really good for me.”

  Bradley poured milk nearly to the top of the glass and put it on the counter while he turned to put the carton back in the fridge. “I’m really glad we haven’t had any disturbing visits,” he said, his head still behind the fridge door.

  “Um, Bradley,” Mary said, her voice shaking slightly.

  The young woman in the beehive hair style stood on the other side of the counter, glaring at Mary. She looked at the full glass of milk, then looked at Mary, and the glare changed into an evil smile.

  Mary shook her head. “No, not the milk,” she said.

  The glass jiggled on the counter. Bradley dove for it, but it was too late. The glass levitated into the air and floated toward Mary. Pushing her chair back, Mary tried to dodge the glass, but it was moving fast and locked on her like a heat-seeking missile. A moment later the contents of the glass splashed over Mary’s head and dripped down over the rest of her body.

  “That wasn’t very nice,” Mary said, shivering from having cold milk run down her back.

  “He’s mine,” the ghost said. “And you can’t have him.”

  “Listen,” Mary said as milk dripped down from her hair into her face. “Can we just talk?”

  “No,” the ghost said, fading away. “Just remember. He’s mine.”

  Bradley rushed over with several dish towels, handing several to Mary and wiping the milk off her back. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

  She stopped blotting the milk from her hair for a moment and turned to look at him. “This is not your fault,” she said. “This is nothing you did.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “I must have,” he said. “Why else is she attached to me?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied as she continued drying her hair. “But I’m rapidly losing my patience.”

  He took the damp towels from her and looked at his soaked wife. “Want some chocolate cake?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah, but I think I’ll skip the milk this time.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  The next morning, Mary’s cell phone rang as she and Bradley were getting ready for work. “Hello,” she said, answering the phone.

  “Hi Mary, this is Renee from Computer Dynamics,” Renee said. “Good news. We’ve rescued your information and uploaded it into a new laptop. You can pick it up anytime you’d like.”

  “Oh, that’s great news,” Mary replied. “I’ll come by this morning on my way to work. Thank you, Renee. You guys are amazing.”

  “Just doing our job,” Renee replied.

  “Well, thank you,” Mary said. “You just made my day.”r />
  She hung up the phone with a big smile on her face. “Good news?” Bradley asked, coming down the stairs.

  “My new laptop is ready for me,” she said. “And they were able to restore all of my information.”

  He bent over and kissed her. “That is good news,” he said. “Are we going to submit an insurance claim for it?”

  Mary grinned and shook her head. “I thought about it, for a second or two,” she said, “until I tried to explain how the computer was damaged.”

  Bradley chuckled. “Yeah, I could see how that would be a problem,” he said. “What else—”

  He was cut off when Mary’s phone rang again.

  “Sorry,” she said before answering her phone. “Hi, this is Mary.”

  “Mary, this is Sue from the Joiner Room in Sycamore,” the voice on the other end of the phone said. “I found something this morning that I really think you ought to see.”

  “Okay,” Mary said. “I’ve got a couple of meetings this morning, but I could probably be there by eleven. Will that work?”

  “That will be perfect,” Sue said. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Mary hung up her phone and turned to Bradley. “Sue at the Joiner Room found something interesting,” she said. “So I’m going to drive to Sycamore and look at it.”

  “Well, this worked out well,” Bradley said.

  “What do you mean?” Mary asked.

  “I spoke to Ian yesterday, and he said he could meet me in Sycamore today at noon,” Bradley explained. “I was going to tell you yesterday, but, well, the whole milk thing distracted me.”

  Mary chuckled. “Yeah, me too,” she replied. “So is Rick on board?”

  “Well, he thinks it’s kind of weird,” Bradley admitted. “But I told him it couldn’t hurt and it just might help.”

  “Okay, so I’ll get my computer, take care of a couple of things at the office and call you,” Mary said.

  An hour later, Mary was in her office, going through her emails on her new computer. She stopped when she heard the front door open. She watched Rosie and Margo walk in.

  “Good morning,” she said. “What a nice surprise.”

  “Oh, don’t stand up,” Rosie insisted when she saw Mary beginning to stand. “We’ll sit down.”

  They hurried over to the seats in front of Mary’s desk. “How are you feeling today?” Margo asked.

  “I’m feeling good,” Mary said. “Thank you for asking. How was your day yesterday?”

  “Well, that’s one of the reasons we came to see you,” Rosie said. “Show her, Margo.”

  Margo pulled out the paper that Melvin had given them and laid it on the desk. “We received this yesterday,” Margo explained. “From an acquaintance of Stanley’s at the VFW. He put together a list of the people he thought could have killed Frasier and Shirley.”

  Mary looked down the paper. “Wow, this is quite a comprehensive list,” she said. “I would never have even considered their paper carrier.”

  Margo smiled at Mary and nodded. “That’s exactly what we thought,” Margo said.

  “It seemed to us that he’s pretty eager to shift the blame,” Rosie said. “Without thinking about the consequences.”

  “He could just be trying to impress both of you,” Mary suggested.

  “Yes, he could,” Margo agreed, turning to look at Rosie. “Because he is that kind of person. And then there’s another fellow at the VFW who seems to enjoy doing all he can to annoy the first fellow.”

  Mary smiled. “So you have two men who are trying to impress you?” she said.

  Margo nodded. “And that’s why we came up with our plan.”

  Mary didn’t like the sound of that. “Your plan?” she asked.

  Margo laughed. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We aren’t going to do anything illegal.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Mary said with a smile.

  “No, not this time,” Rosie added with a wink at Mary.

  “What’s your plan?” Mary asked.

  Margo leaned forward in her chair. “Well, it seems that the first fellow likes to impress the ladies,” she said. “And he intimated that he would be happy to give me…” She wiggled her eyebrows. “More information about the list, if I wanted to meet with him.”

  “He was flirting with you?” Mary asked.

  “Flirting would be a mild term,” Rosie said. “He was practically throwing himself at her.”

  “So, we thought I could meet him,” Margo said, “in a very public place and see if I could get him to let me know what he really thinks about their death.”

  “Very public?” Mary asked.

  Rosie nodded. “Oh yes, very,” she assured her. “And Stanley and I will be waiting outside for her.”

  Mary looked at Margo. “And you won’t take any risks?”

  Margo lifted her right hand and held it up. “Scout’s honor,” she said.

  “And then she’ll meet with the second fellow and see what she can find out about the first fellow,” Rosie said.

  Mary shook her head. “You’re like a regular Mata Hari,” Mary laughed.

  “Yes, except I’d rather not be executed once I get the information,” Margo replied drily.

  “Oh, let’s not have you be Mata Hari,” Rosie exclaimed. “How about if you’re Jessica Fletcher? She never dies.”

  Margo smiled at her friend. “That’s a much better plan,” she said.

  “Well, whoever you are, I’d be very interested to see what you find out,” Mary said.

  “Dinner at your house tonight?” Rosie asked.

  “That would be great,” Mary said. “And we’ll order in pizza so no one has to cook.”

  “Okay,” Rosie said as both of the women stood up. “We’ll see you tonight.”

  “See you then,” Mary said. “And Margo…”

  Margo stopped and looked at Mary. “Yes?”

  “Be careful, okay?”

  Margo smiled and nodded. “I will. I promise.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “So, Margo’s daughter is a mystery writer?” Bradley asked as they drove towards Sycamore.

  “Yeah, she writes paranormal mysteries,” Mary replied. “And I really love them.”

  Bradley shook his head. “I’ve heard stories about writers, especially mystery writers,” he said, shaking his head. “They can be kind of…” He paused as he searched for his words. “Odd. Yeah, that’s the best way to describe it. Odd.”

  Mary shrugged and smiled at him. “You know, the same thing could be said about us,” she said. “Oh, what did you do last night? Washed my hair because a poltergeist spilled milk on me. And what are you doing today? Going to a library to discover the identity of said poltergeist, hypnotizing someone who might have a spirit attached to them and then meeting with some friends to discuss another murder.”

  Bradley was silent for a moment and then sighed. “Okay, point taken,” he said. “We’re odd, too.”

  “All the best people are,” she teased.

  Once at the Joiner Room, Mary immediately brought Bradley to the counter and introduced him to Sue. Once the introductions were over, Sue was anxious to show Mary what she’d discovered.

  “Come over here to the back of the counter area,” she invited.

  They walked around the counter and found a yearbook, opened up, lying on the middle of the counter. “I found this here, this morning,” Sue said. “And it wasn’t here when I locked up last night. But look at this.”

  Mary bent over to look at the picture in the book. “It’s her,” Mary said, looking at a photograph of their poltergeist. “Julie Scott. She was a sophomore and a cheerleader.”

  She picked up the book. “What year is this?” she asked, turning the book over.

  “It’s 1965, the last year the old high school was in use,” Sue said.

  Mary shook her head. “But that doesn’t make any sense,” she said, putting the book back down on the counter. “Bradley wasn’t born yet. Why would sh
e attach herself to him?”

  The pages of the book started to flutter. “I have a feeling we’re going to find out why,” Sue said, her voice just slightly shaky.

  Mary could see that Mrs. Penfield had joined them at the counter and was quickly flipping through the pages. Finally, she stopped and smiled up at Mary. “That’s why,” she said, pointing to a photo.

  Mary looked at the book and gasped. A photo of Bradley, dressed in a football uniform, was featured in the middle of the page. Mary looked at the caption. No, not Bradley Alden, Blake Alden, Bradley’s father. “Your dad,” she said, looking up at Bradley. “He looks just like you.”

  Bradley looked down at the photo. “Yeah, I can see the resemblance,” he said. “So, you think Julie believes I’m my dad?”

  “That’s the only thing that makes sense,” Mary replied, turning to Sue. “Did you happen…”

  Sue smiled and handed Mary several pieces of paper. “You must deal with researchers a lot to understand that I would have already done a search for her.”

  Mary smiled back. “You just seem like a very thorough person,” she replied.

  Glancing down, Mary read the headlines from a May 1965 copy of the local paper. “Local Girl Dies in Rollover Accident.”

  She looked up at Bradley. “She was on her way to the prom when she lost control of her car,” she said.

  “Damn,” he said shaking his head. “So, she’s been waiting all this time.”

  Mary nodded. “Okay, now at least we know what happened,” she said. “And now all we have to do is figure out how to fix it.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Margo took a deep breath and then checked her reflection in the restaurant’s glass door. Good, she thought, I don’t look as nervous as I feel. Pushing against the door, she immediately smelled the familiar scents of a corner diner: hot coffee, deep fry grease and hamburger. The hostess was at the door greeting her immediately.

  “Hi, booth for one?” she asked with a friendly smile.

  “I’m meeting someone for lunch,” Margo said, scanning behind the woman to see if Melvin was already there.