Deadly Circumstances

by Terri Reid

  Mary nodded. “I know. My life can be fairly unbelievable,” she said. “Stranger than fiction.”

  Stanley stood up, reached under his shirt and pulled out the microphone and tape. “Iffen you’ll give this back to Bradley,” he said, “I’ll take Rosie and Margo out for ice cream, so they can spend the last night of their visit chatting like magpies and Eddie can have a few minutes with his parents.”

  Mary pushed herself out of her chair and took the microphone. “Thank you, Stanley,” she said.

  Walking over to Margo, she gave her a hug. “I loved getting to know you,” Mary said. “Please come back and visit again.”

  Margo nodded. “And you have to come out and visit me in Deadwood,” she said. “I promise I’ll show you all around town.”

  “Deal,” Mary said, and then she looked down at her belly. “But it won’t be anytime soon.”

  Margo laughed. “Understood.”

  Rosie came over and gave Mary a hug. “Just lock the door after you,” she said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  They left, and the room was quiet for a moment, with only Rosie’s grandfather clock ticking in the background.

  “Are they still here?” Eddie finally asked.

  Mary nodded. “Yes, they are,” she said.

  “Tell him we love him,” Shirley said.

  “Your mom says she loves you.”

  He nodded. “I always knew that,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. He looked around the room. “I miss you, Mom. I miss calling you whenever I felt like it. I miss your laughter. I miss your smile.”

  Shirley nodded through her tears. “I miss you, too.”

  “She misses you, too,” Mary said, wiping the tears from her own cheeks.

  “Tell him I’m proud of him,” Frasier asked. “Please?”

  “Your dad says he’s proud of you.”

  “Really?” Eddie asked, looking surprised. “Really?”

  “Yeah, tell him that I’ve been an idiot,” Frasier said. “And someday, when he’s a dad, he needs to remember the mistakes I made and do things the right way.”

  Mary took a deep, shuddering breath. “He said that he’s been an idiot, and you need to remember not to make those same mistakes when you’re a dad.”

  Eddie laughed nervously. “I don’t know if I’m ready to even think about becoming a dad,” he said.

  “You’d make a great dad,” his mom replied.

  “Your mom thinks you’d make a great dad.”

  He laughed. “She just wants grandkids,” he said. Then he stopped. His smile crumpled and he sobbed. “She’s never going to meet her grandkids.”

  “Sure she is,” Mary assured him. “But she won’t only get to be a grandmother, she’ll get to be a guardian angel.”

  He wiped his cheeks and took a deep breath. “I love you,” he said. “Both of you.”

  They both heard a soft ping and turned towards the table. A second pearl earring rolled over to lie by the first one.

  “Tell him to give them to his wife,” Shirley said. “A gift from me.”

  “She wants you to give them to your wife,” Mary said. “As a gift from her.”

  He nodded. “I will,” he said.

  “Then she’ll have both of my most precious gifts,” Shirley said smiling down at her son.

  “Your mom said that then your wife will have both of her most precious gifts,” Mary said, trying hard not to sob.

  “Just make sure she can cook,” Frasier said.

  Mary’s laugh was watery. “Your dad wants you to be sure she can cook.”

  Eddie laughed, too, as he wiped his eyes. “If she can cook like Mom, I’ll marry her on the spot,” Eddie said.

  “Smart boy,” Frasier said. “Takes after his dad.”

  Shirley wrapped her arm around her husband’s arm and leaned against him. “Yes. Yes he does.”

  She looked up and sighed. “Mary, I see the light,” she said. “Tell Eddie we’ll be watching over him.”

  “I will,” Mary said.

  She turned to Eddie. “It’s time for them to move on.”

  “I love you,” he said. “I’ll make you proud, I promise.”

  “You already have,” his dad said, but this time both Eddie and Mary heard his voice.

  Mary watched them fade into the light. Then she turned to Eddie. “How are you doing?”

  He took a deep breath. “I’m good, actually,” he said. “I feel better today than I have in a long time.” He looked over at the earrings and carefully picked them up. “I guess I better start looking for a wife.”

  Mary smiled. “I agree,” she said. “I wouldn’t put it past your parents to come back and haunt you.”

  He laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I agree,” he said. “Thank you, Mary.”

  “You are very welcome,” she replied.

  Chapter Fifty-one

  The fire was crackling in the fireplace, the lights were turned down low and Mary was snuggled up on the couch with a fleece throw tucked around her when Bradley arrived home.

  “So, how did it go?” she asked, as he slipped out of his coat and hung it up in the closet.

  “I called Alex Boettcher, the DA, and he’s going to run over to Stanley’s house tonight and get a statement from Margo before she leaves town,” he said. “But, with the recorded confession and the amazing fact that the car had not been crushed, there shouldn’t be a problem with a conviction.”

  He removed his revolver, put it in the gun safe on the closet’s top shelf and then crossed over to her, slipping beside her on the couch. “How did it go for you?” he asked, putting his arm around her and pulling her close.

  She sighed and cuddled against him. “It’s always that mixed bag, you know,” she said. “The case has been solved, the murderer found and the spirits get to cross over. But, then they have to cross over and to family members, it’s like losing them all over again. Eddie was sweet, I was bawling like a baby and so were Frasier and Shirley.”

  She shifted and looked up at him. “But Shirley left him the sweetest gift,” she said. “You know the pearl earring?”

  Bradley smiled. “The one that made the soft ping that Stanley told me about?”

  She laughed and nodded. “Yes, that one,” she said. “Somehow Shirley was able to leave the other one. They were a gift from Eddie to Shirley and now they’re going to be a gift from Shirley to Eddie’s wife.”

  “He’s getting married?” Bradley asked.

  Mary cuddled back in beside him. “Not yet,” she said. “But he’s going to start looking. He’s got a set of grandparents and guardian angels ready and waiting.”

  Bradley was silent for a moment and then he sighed softly. “I never thought of it that way,” he said. “I never even considered that my parents might be watching over Clarissa.”

  Mary laid her head against his chest. “Well, considering how protected she was until we finally found her,” she said. “It makes a lot of sense.”

  “Yeah, it does,” he replied softly. “It really does.”

  They sat there in the darkened room with the fire softly crackling in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Finally, Bradley shifted slightly, propping his feet on the coffee table and pulling her even closer. “So, how was your afternoon?” he asked.

  Well, crap, Mary thought, I don’t want to lie, but I really don’t want to tell him about what happened. I wonder if I still have any residual power.

  She placed her hand on his arm. “You don’t want to know about my afternoon,” she said, in her best Obi-Wan impression.

  “Yes I do,” he replied, looking at her with curiosity. “What’s going on.”

  Yeah, no residual power left, she decided.

  “Well, the good news is, I’m fine,” she began.

  His propped feet came down from the table and he turned towards her. “Tell me,” he demanded. “And don’t leave anything out.”

  “Well, funny story,” she said. “The last time I came home and was c
alling out, trying to get Julie to appear, Shirley and Frasier appeared. And this time, when I wanted to get Shirley and Frasier to appear…”

  “Julie was here?” Bradley asked. “What did she do?”

  “She was pretty upset,” Mary said. “And she had this whole combination pack of Mr. Freeze and Storm from X-Men.”

  “And?”

  “And she kind of threw me around the kitchen with freezing cold gale force winds,” she said quickly. “But, I’m okay. Mike caught me when she threw me down the basement stairs.”

  “She threw…” he stood up and walked away from her, running his hand through his hair in frustration. Then he turned back to her. “And you were going to tell me this, when?”

  “I didn’t really have a specific plan,” she admitted.

  “Mary, how can I trust you?” he shouted.

  She stood up and walked over to him. “Okay, wait just a minute,” she replied. “I told you the truth when you asked me. Didn’t I?”

  He nodded. “Yes, you did,” he said. “But only because I asked.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Last week the police department had a drug raid on an apartment building in Freeport,” she said. “Shots were fired. Did any come close to you?”

  Bradley opened his mouth and then shut it. “I was fine,” he said.

  “What?” she asked, not a little sarcastically. “You didn’t immediately call me and tell me that you had nearly been shot?”

  “Mary, it’s my job,” he said. “Besides, I was fine.”

  She raised one eyebrow and stared at him for a long moment.

  He thought about what he just said and then shook his head. “Oh, I see what you just did there,” he said. “But, no, it’s different.”

  She tilted her head and waited.

  “Because…” he thought about it for a moment. “I’m not pregnant.”

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  “Because if something, anything, happened to you my world would be destroyed?” he asked.

  “Charming. But no,” she said. “Because I feel the same way about you.”

  He sighed and looped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. “Because I’m a stupid man who thinks I should be able to control everything and protect the people I love,” he said, lowering his forehead to hers. “And when I can’t it makes me crazy.”

  She smiled up at him. “Better,” she said. She reached up and kissed him.

  “I admit I was frightened beyond belief,” she said. “And for a few moments, I didn’t know if I was going to make it. And, if it hadn’t been for Mike, the outcome would have been a lot different.”

  He took a deep shuddering breath. “This isn’t helping me,” he said.

  “Wait until you see the kitchen,” she replied. “And, once again, there’s no way we can explain it to the insurance company.”

  “I don’t think I want you to do this anymore,” he said. “Right now. Standing here. With you in my arms. I can tell you that I would do just about anything to have you stop helping ghosts.”

  She sighed. “It’s what I do,” she said. “And most of the time, it’s amazing.”

  He nodded. “I know,” he said. “But those other times scare the hell out of me.” He kissed her again. “I’m not going to ask you to make any decisions, especially after the day you’ve had, but think about it, okay?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Mary sat on the couch watching the glowing embers in the fireplace slowly fade to black. She’d tried to sleep, but the conversation she had with Bradley kept running through her mind. He’d never force her to stop helping spirits, but he’d asked. Wrapping her arms around her belly, she felt Mikey move and sighed. So much had changed in such a short amount of time. How did people deal with change like that? How did they adapt so everyone was happy? Satisfied?

  “How are you doing?” Mike asked, appearing on the chair across from her.

  She sighed, suddenly close to tears and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she confessed.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “I told Bradley about this afternoon,” she said, and then she shook her head. “Actually, I didn’t go into a lot of detail, but he got the gist of it.”

  “And how did he react?”

  “He was upset,” she said. “Worried, frightened, frustrated. All those male emotions when they want to protect the people they love.”

  Mike smiled. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

  “He wants me to quit,” she said. “He wants me to stop being who I am, doing what I do.”

  Mike was silent for a moment. “What if this same scenario happened in six months, and Mikey was in a high chair in the kitchen?” he finally asked.

  Mary felt sick to her stomach. “He could have been…” She couldn’t say it. She just shook her head.

  “Even if his high chair hadn’t been thrown across the room,” Mike said, not sparing her feelings. “What if he had been exposed to cold like that? How long would he have survived?”

  “But this was an unusual case,” Mary argued weakly. “This has never happened before.”

  “Does that guarantee it will never happen again?” he asked.

  She stared into the darkening coals for several minutes. “But I agreed to do this,” she said. “This is part of me. I don’t want to have to close down this part of me.”

  Mike nodded. “Yeah, I get it,” he said. “This gift you have, this part of you, fulfills you. It makes you feel like you’re accomplishing amazing, miraculous things. You’re making a difference.”

  “And I love it,” she admitted. “I love figuring out mysteries. I love moving people on to the other side. I love helping families find each other.”

  Mike shook his head. “I never understood it until just now.”

  “What? What don’t you understand?” she asked.

  “How hard it is to be a woman,” he said.

  She smiled. “Mike, you’re not a woman.”

  He chuckled softly. “No, you goose, how hard it is to be you,” he said. “When men say they want it all, that usually consists of a good job, a wife, kids, and a couple of rounds of golf every week.”

  He looked at Mary. “But when women want it all, they can’t have it,” he continued. “If they want a family, they can either hire someone to raise their kids or give up their job. If they want a career, they have to give up having kids, or they have to juggle the responsibilities of being a mother and an employee. They feel pulled in so many directions. Someone has to lose. And it’s usually them.”

  “And some of them don’t have choices,” Mary said. “They would love to be home with their kids, but they can’t. I know so many women who live with constant guilt because they can’t do all they really want to do.”

  “What do you want to do, Mary?” Mike asked.

  “What will I have to give up, Mike?” she asked.

  He smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “If I could compromise,” she said. “I don’t want it to go away. I want to help. But I don’t want to jeopardize my family. Can I have both? Can I have it all?”

  “Well, I would think if anyone could help you have it all, it would be your employer,” he said with a smile. “Let me see what I can find out.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. “By the way, the residual effect has worn off, at a very inconvenient time, if you ask me.”

  He grinned. “Maybe, maybe not,” he said. “It can only be used for truth, justice and…”

  “I know,” she said. “The American way.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. God’s way, Mary,” he started to fade away. “Only God’s way.”

  Chapter Fifty-three

  The doorbell rang at precisely ten o’clock, and Mary hurried to answer it. Stanley and Rosie stood outside with cardboard boxes in their arms.

  “I think I got everything you need,” Rosie said. “But Stanley is g
oing to have to run over to the party store and pick up the ball.”

  Stanley shook his head. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked. “Seems like a pretty havey-cavey scheme to me.”

  “Well, it’s the best idea I have,” Mary said. “So I’m hoping it works. Stanley, before you go to the party store, would you both help me down in the basement for a few minutes?”

  Stanley rolled his eyes. “What, you got some spiders you need killing?” he asked.

  Mary smiled. “No, but I need your big he-man muscles, because there are some boxes that need rearranging.”

  “Women, always rearranging stuff,” he grumbled. “Why can’t you just leave it where it is?”

  The old locker box was in the far corner of the basement under several boxes of things from Bradley’s house that had never been unpacked. “I need to get to the chest,” Mary said.

  “What’s in there?” Rosie asked.

  “Things that belonged to Bradley’s father,” she said. “I’m hoping it will help me get rid of our unwanted visitor.”

  Stanley moved the boxes to the side, and Mary unlatched the wooden box. On top was the letterman sweater, slightly yellowed and wrapped in tissue paper. She pulled it out and hung it in the air. “What do you think?” she asked. “Will it fit Bradley?”

  “It should,” Rosie said, examining it carefully. “Yes, I believe it will.”

  Mary pulled out a few boxes and then came to a box with a collection of 45 rpm records. “Oh, look at these,” she said, pulling the record and the sleeve out of the box. “Oh, I wish we could play these records tonight. That would be so great.”

  “Don’t see why you can’t,” Stanley said.

  “Well, because I don’t have anything to play them on,” Mary replied.

  Stanley put his hands of his hips and shook his head. “And that is why, girlie, you don’t throw perfectly good things away.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Well, in the back shelves of our basement I have a portable record player with attached speakers,” he said.

  “Are you kidding me?” Mary exclaimed. “And it still works?”