by Terri Reid
“But honey, I didn’t mean that all men were bad,” she explained. “Just your Daddy, because he was hurting us. These men, they don’t deserve to die. They’re good men.”
Angela shook her head. “There ain’t any good men,” she said firmly. “They hurt us, Momma. They hurt women.”
Her mother shook her head. “No, honey, there are lots of good men,” she said. “Your grandpa was a good man, but your Daddy killed him too.”
Angela looked down at Bradley. “But, Daddy said Bradley had to die. That was the only way.”
“No, baby, Daddy lied to you,” her mother said. “He’s nothing but an evil murderer.”
Tears fell down Angela’s face and she cocked her head to the side. “But, Momma,” she said sadly, lifting the knife in the air. “I’m nothing but an evil murderer too.”
Angela brought the knife down viciously.
“No!” Mary screamed, racing forward, but she knew it was too late.
Angela stood behind Bradley, blood darkening her white wedding dress. The knife was buried halfway up the blade, in the middle of her chest. She looked up at Mary. “Bad people have to die,” she whispered.
Her mother glided forward. “Oh, baby, no,” she sobbed.
Angela’s body crumpled to the floor, catching the chair her father’s corpse was tied to and bringing it crashing down with her. The mummified body crumbled into pieces and the skull rolled across the room.
Mary knelt down next to Angela and she grabbed Mary’s hand, “Milk Thistle Tincture...on my...desk...for Bradley...Milk Thistle Tincture.”
Then she was gone.
Chapter 42
Mary laid Angela’s hand on her chest and gently closed her eyelids. Angela’s mother turned away from the body lying on the floor and looked upward. “Baby, I’m coming with you,” she said and she faded away.
Hurrying over to Bradley, she felt his pulse again. It was weak, but still there. “Come on, Bradley,” she said. “Hang on for just a little longer.”
“Here’s the tincture,” Mike said, appearing next to Mary and handing her a small dark bottle. “I found it on her desk upstairs.”
She cradled Bradley’s head against her body and took the cork out of the top of the bottle. Laying the bottle against his lips, she slowly poured the tincture into his mouth. “Come on Bradley, swallow,” she pleaded.
He lay there, not moving and not breathing. Mary felt he was slipping away. With tears rolling down her face, she held him to her. “Dammit Bradley, get back here,” she whispered to him.
He swallowed.
Mary poured more tincture down his throat and he swallowed again. His breathing was steadier and his skin tone appeared normal.
“Damn, it worked,” Mike said.
Looking up at Mike through tear-filled eyes, Mary nodded. “Yes, it worked,” she said. “Thank you.”
Mike shrugged. “Hey, that’s what was keeping me here...”
He stopped and cocked his head to the side. “Mary, I’m still here.”
“What?”
“Angela’s dead. Case closed. Dead guy should be seeing the light, right?”
“Right.”
“So, how come I’m not with a bunch of angelic babes right now?”
“I don’t know,” Mary said. “Maybe you have more unfinished business.”
He shrugged. “Well, I guess I could hang around hoping to get a glance at you in sexy lingerie.”
“Mary,” Bradley whispered. “Who the hell is the guy who wants to see you in lingerie?”
Mary laughed, bent over and kissed Bradley on the mouth. “It’s a long story and thankfully you have plenty of time to hear it.”
Mike winked at her and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “See you, Mary.”
Then he faded away.
“Welcome back,” she said to Bradley. “I was a little worried there.”
Bradley straightened in the chair and looked down at Angela’s body on the floor. “She was so troubled,” he said. “I can’t understand how a person who was so bright and talented could be so messed up.”
“Yeah, well, you would have understood it better if you had met her parents,” Mary said, removing the straps from the chair. "How are you feeling?”
He waited a moment to evaluate. “Good, actually, I’m feeling pretty good,” he said, and then he paused. “Okay, I just got déjà vu. I remember thinking or saying that same thing. That I was feeling pretty good.”
“Well, that’s weird,” Mary said and added sarcastically, “And nothing weird ever happens in our lives.”
Bradley chuckled. “I know, it’s rough to have such a boring life.”
“Okay, I’m calling 911 now,” she said. “Do you want an ambulance?”
“No, I’d rather just catch a ride with you,” he said. “I think I can walk.”
Mary placed the call and as she spoke to the dispatcher, she moved out of the shadow from behind his chair. It was the first time Bradley had seen the extent of Mary’s injuries.
“Mary,” he said, reaching for her hand and pulling her to him, “What happened?”
She shrugged, “It’s been a really long day.”
Chapter 43
“You are a very lucky man,” Dr. Thorne said, standing next to his hospital bed. “The active ingredient in milk thistle seeds is silymarin, which not only supports the walls of liver cells and prevents more toxins from entering, but it also aids in the regeneration of liver cells. That tincture saved your life.”
“So, I can go home?” he asked hopefully.
“Not on your life,” Dr. Thorne replied. “You are going to be company of Freeport Hospital at least overnight. And then we’ll talk.”
She turned to Mary. “Although you look as though you’ve been through the losing end of a prize fight, most of your injuries are superficial. Your shoulder is badly bruised, but I don’t see any muscle or tendon damage. However, I am worried about the choking.”
“Choking?” Bradley asked. “You didn’t tell me about a choking.”
“It didn’t seem relevant at the time,” she replied.
Dr. Thorne rolled her eyes. “You might experience some soreness in your throat,” she said, “And that’s normal. But, if it’s more than minor soreness, or if you have trouble swallowing, I want you back here immediately.”
“She gets to go home?” Bradley asked.
“Yes, she does,” Dr. Thorne answered. “Straight home.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
As she drove down Highway 26 she wondered how she could explain straight home via the Thompson Farm to Dr. Thorne. “I just won’t think about it,” she decided.
She turned down Buckeye Road and within a few minutes she was pulling into the farm’s driveway. Yellow police tape had cordoned off several areas of the farm. Mary could see the large equipment tire tracks heading into the back woods. She had been told they uncovered Peggy’s body that afternoon.
Mary walked to the back door, knocked and then entered. “Hello, Paul,” he called. “It’s Mary O’Reilly.”
“I’m in here,” he called in a low voice, “In the front room.”
He was sitting on the couch with the wedding photo from the mantle in his hands. His eyes were red-rimmed and he looked exhausted.
“Hi,” she said, sitting next to him. “How are you doing?”
“Why didn’t she tell me he was hitting her, Mary?” he abruptly asked. “Why didn’t she trust me?”
Peggy appeared in the room and glided over to Paul.
“Paul,” Mary said. “When I left I told you that I would come back and explain how I knew the things I knew.”
He turned to her. “Yes?”
“When I worked as a police officer in Chicago, I got caught in a crossfire. I got shot. They rushed me to the hospital and performed emergency surgery. Sometime during that surgery, I died,” she said. “I remember walking down a long white tunnel. About half-way down the tunnel someone called my name. He told
me that I had a choice. I could keep walking up the tunnel or I could turn around and return to my family.”
“You talked to God?” Paul asked.
“I don’t know if it was God,” she said. “But the voice was loving and kind. I looked back down the tunnel and I could see my family gathered together, crying over me. My dad looked so old and my mom looked so sad. So, I decided to go back. But, I came back with a special gift. I can see people who have died. Especially those who are troubled and haven’t left this world.”
“Are you telling me that you see ghosts?”
“Yes,” she said. “I see ghosts and on Christmas Day Peggy came to me.”
“She talked to you? She told you that Luke had killed her?”
“She came to me, but she didn’t tell me who had killed her,” she said. “I had to find that out on my own.”
“You,” Paul said, his eyes widening. “You stole the snowmobile.”
“I prefer to think of it as borrowing,” she said, shrugging. “Yes, Peggy told me that she had been buried and I wanted to find out what happened.”
“Why didn’t she come to me, Mary?” he whispered. “Did she think I was like Luke?”
“Oh, no, never,” Peggy said. “I just never wanted you to be disappointed in me. I couldn’t bear you not loving me anymore.”
Mary sighed. “She loved you and she didn’t want to disappoint you,” she said. “She was so afraid of losing you that she put up with Luke’s abuse.”
“How do you know?”
“She’s here, in this room with us.”
“Peggy,” he called out, tears filling his eyes. “Peggy I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I know, Luke was very careful about how he hurt me,” she said.
“She said that Luke was careful to not to let the abuse show,” Mary said.
“I would have helped you, Peggy,” he said. “I love you. I would have never been disappointed in you. I love you too much.”
“I should have trusted you more,” Peggy said. “I will always love you.”
“She said she should have trusted you more,” Mary said, wiping away a stray tear. “But she loves you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” he said, openly crying. “Forever.”
“Forever,” Peggy whispered, beginning to fade away. “I’ll love you forever.”
“She’s gone,” Mary said. “She said she’ll love you forever too.”
Paul pulled out a large handkerchief and blew his nose. “How do I go on?” he asked. “How do I survive this?”
“You go on because you know she would want you to,” she said. “And because you want to be sure that when your time comes, you’re good enough to be with her forever.”
He nodded, wiping his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks.”
A few minutes later Mary let herself out of Paul’s home. He would eventually be fine, but he needed some time to grieve.
She walked to the SUV, the cold ground crunching beneath her feet. She was ready to go home and take a hot bath.
“Mary, wait.”
She turned to see Shirley gliding towards her.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” she said. “They’ve recovered all of my bones and Paul is going to bury me in the family cemetery.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Mary said.
“I can finally rest,” she said with a smile. “Thank you, Mary O’Reilly; you saved me from being forgotten.”
Shirley leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Mary’s cheek and slowly faded away.
She placed her hand over her cheek and nodded. Sometimes hard days had good endings.
She opened the door to the SUV and climbed inside.
“Straight home?” Mike said, seated in the passenger’s seat again, “Liar, liar pants on fire.”
Mary pulled the door closed and turned on the ignition. “I had things to do,” she said, pulling out of the drive.
“Yeah, I heard,” he said. “You do important work, Mary. You make a difference in people’s lives.”
“I do what I’m supposed to do,” she said, casually. “It was part of the deal.”
Mike chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure that part of the deal was to drive twenty miles out of your way with a mild concussion, a collection of bruises and bumps and a headache that feels like your head is going to split in order to comfort a man who just lost his wife, and to be sure that they both had a chance to say good-bye.”
“What else could I do?”
He smiled at her. “Nothing else, because you are who you are.”
Mary suddenly realized something. “How did you get here?” she asked.
“I just thought of you and poof,” he replied.
“No, I mean, I thought you could only connect with me if the places related to Angela.”
He looked around the farmyard. “I guess I graduated.”
“But, what does this mean?” she asked.
“Maybe I’m your new back-up,” he suggested. “Maybe I’m Watson to your Sherlock.”
“Watson never flirted with Sherlock.”
“Sherlock wasn’t a babe like you,” he replied.
“I work alone,” she said.
“Maybe working with you is my unfinished business,” he argued. “Maybe the only way I can move on is to help you for a while. You wouldn’t deny me, would you Mary?”
Mary sighed. “Fine. You can work with me. But there will have to be rules.”
He leaned closer. “Mary, I love rules,” he said. “Do you know why? There are so many wonderful ways you can figure out how to break them.”
He grinned at her. “Bye, Mary.”
And faded away.
Chapter 44
The giant crystal ball began its descent and the crowd at Times Square went crazy. “Never did understand the point in standing in a crowd in the cold for hours just to watch that dang ball drop to the ground,” Stanley muttered. “You get a better view from your own living room.”
“It’s the excitement of being in the crowd when the New Year is being rung in,” Rosie said. “It’s romantic.”
“Well, you’d know all about romantic,” Stanley said, wiggling his bushy eyebrows.
Rosie giggled and blushed. “Oh, Stanley.”
Mary and Bradley, cuddling on the couch together, turned to each other with questioning looks.
Rosie jumped up and ran to the kitchen. “We need the sparkling cider,” she called. “Stanley can you help me.”
“Sure enough,” he said, hurrying over to Rosie.
He picked up two of the champagne flutes filled with cider and handed them to Mary and Bradley. He and Rosie each picked up a glass. They counted down the final numbers together.
“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”
“Happy New Year.”
They all toasted each other and took a sip.
Bradley turned to Mary. “Happy New Year,” he said and kissed her tenderly.
She placed her glass on the end table and wound her arms around him and kissed him back. “Happy New Year,” she whispered a moment later.
“Well, we should be going,” Rosie said. “It’s getting late.”
“Yeah, I’ll give Rosie a ride home,” Stanley said. “Crazy drivers on a night like this.”
“Yes, we don’t want to be in the way,” Rosie added.
“But, don’t you want to wait for a while?” Mary asked. “We could play some games...”
Stanley yawned widely, stretching out his arms. “Sorry, Mary, I’m pretty tired,” he said. “How about you Rosie?”
Rosie covered her mouth with her hand and yawned prettily. “Oh, me, too. Goodness. Long day.”
Mary started to get up. “Oh, no, Mary,” Rosie said. “Just sit, we know our way out.”
Within a minute, the two had said their good-byes and were out the door. “Well, that was odd,” Mary said.
“Yeah, they really wanted to leave us alone,” Bradley grinned, slipp
ing his arm around Mary. “Not that I mind.”
She leaned back against Bradley’s arm and sighed. “I guess I don’t mind either.”
“Well, before you two get too cozy, you’ve got to give a man a chance to say good-bye.”
They looked up at Sam Rogers standing in the middle of the room.
“Sam,” Mary said. “Thank you for your help.”
He shook his head. “No, thank you, for solving our murders,” he said. “There’s a whole group of us going home tonight and it wouldn’t have happened without you.”
“Well, I had a little extra interest in this one,” she said, taking hold of Bradley’s hand.
“Lucky for us the new Chief knows how to pick them,” Sam said with a chuckle. “Where would we all be without Mary O’Reilly?”
He started to fade. “Well, I’ve got to go,” he said with a brilliant smile. “My wife’s waiting. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye,” Mary and Bradley said, as they watched him fade from view.
Bradley put pulled Mary into his arms. “He’s right. I don’t know where I’d be without you in my life,” he said softly, cupping her face in his hands.
He kissed her softly, lightly brushing his lips across hers, once and then once again. He trailed kisses along her jaw, the late-night stubble on his face gently abrading her sensitive skin. She moaned softly. He slid his fingers into her hair, angled her head slightly and then crushed his lips against hers.
Mary wrapped her arms around his neck, sliding her fingers into his soft, thick hair. Pouring all the love she felt for him into her kiss, reveling in his instant response. The world disappeared, there were only the two of them, and no one else mattered.
He lifted his head. “I love you.”
She sighed happily. “I love you too.”
“When I think about what could have...”
She placed her hand gently on his lips. “Let’s just not talk about that,” she replied.
He kissed her fingers. “You’re right,” he said with a wicked smile. “There are much better things we could be doing.”
A little while later with Mary wrapped in his arms and the television announcing the New Year in Chicago, Bradley kissed the top of Mary’s head and sighed contentedly. “You know, I had the weirdest dream when I was drugged and tied up at Angela’s,” he said. “I was walking down this long white tunnel. In front of me it was really bright and behind me there was a lot of activity and I thought I could hear your voice.”
