Mary O'Reilly 09 - Twisted Paths

by Terri Reid

  “I don’t know if I could have been as strong as you were,” Bradley said. “Especially when it seemed that God had forgotten you.”

  “Ah, and there’s the irony of it. I finally recognized that the very first little miracle God sent me was that very day my mother took her life,” he said. “Because I was out in the woods, speaking with my father, I wasn’t home when she died. I didn’t have to find her or see what happened. I was able to remember her as she had been.”

  “Do you really get little miracles every day?” Bradley asked.

  Ian smiled and nodded. “Oh, aye, you just have to remember to look for them,” he said. “They’re often little things, but they’re there.”

  Suddenly Mary sat up straight in her chair. “The little things,” she repeated. “Ian, you’re exactly right.”

  She grabbed the white board and jotted down a list of facts they had gathered over the past few days.

  “What is it?” Ian asked.

  “I want to work it through in my mind for a bit longer, but Bradley, can you run a background check on Faith Foley for us?” she asked. “I want to know where she went after Hope’s death, what her grades were like and anything else you can find.”

  “I’ll do it first thing in the morning,” Bradley said.

  “And Ian, you and I are going back to the nursing home in the morning,” Mary said. “I have a feeling that Gloria didn’t tell us all she knew.”

  “Okay, you get to be Sherlock this time,” Ian said with a wink.

  “The game’s afoot!” Mary replied.

  Chapter Forty-three

  The old pickup rattled down the street lined with expensive condos whose yards backed into the golf course and the park. Anyone that took the time to look at it would assume a delivery was being made. But most of the residents were too busy inside their homes on the cool spring evening to even take note of it. Nick parked a few doors away from Faith’s condo, out of the glow of a street light and walked up the rain slicked sidewalk.

  Knocking on the door, he tapped his foot impatiently while he waited for her to answer it. He had pictured this meeting many times in his mind. In earlier versions, Faith would tell him that she wanted him and had always been jealous of Hope. She would throw her arms around him and beg him to take her. But this afternoon’s rendition had a different twist. Faith had been begging him not to go to the authorities. Begging him not to tell anyone about the cord. She had dropped to her knees, pleading, telling him that she would do anything…anything if he would just keep her out of jail. And then the daydream got even more interesting.

  The click of a deadbolt being pulled back snapped Nick back from his fantasy into reality. The door opened and Faith was standing in front of him, even more desirable than he had remembered. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that he had the upper hand. Remembering the lines he used in his daydream.

  “It’s been a long time, Faith,” he said.

  In his fantasy his voice had been deep and smooth, but somehow it came out breathless and squeaky.

  “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Faith asked.

  Nick was nonplussed for a moment. That wasn’t the right line.

  “Don’t play games with me,” he said. “I know you know who I am.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, no.”

  “I’m Nick, dammit, Nick Kazakos.”

  She stared at him for a little bit longer. “From?”

  “From high school,” he said. “We were together in high school. I liked your sister, Hope, and you tried to seduce me.”

  “Really? I tried to seduce you?” she asked, with a quick laugh. “Was I drunk?”

  This was not at all the way he had imagined it.

  “Listen, I saw you with the cord that night your sister died,” he blurted out. “I saw you take the extension cord from the gardener’s shed and bring it back to the house.”

  Faith leaned against the doorjamb and smiled. “Well, why didn’t you say something twenty years ago?” she asked.

  “Because I thought Hope’s death was a suicide,” he said, his voice becoming frantic. “But I know the truth now.”

  She calmly folded her arms over her chest. “Do you?” she asked. “The truth? And what would the truth be?”

  “You killed Hope,” he stammered, spittle collecting on the corners of his mouth. “You did it. They covered it up, your parents. But you did it.”

  She smiled at him. “Why don’t you come in Nick,” she suggested, moving away from the door and motioning him into the room. “It seems we have a lot to discuss.”

  Chapter Forty-four

  Mary opened the door to Clarissa’s room and looked around in the dim morning light. Mike was sitting in the corner of the room, in an easy chair, and Clarissa was sound asleep in her bed, her blankets askew and her pillow on the floor.

  “Rough night?” Mary asked Mike as she picked up the pillow and placed it on the end of the bed.

  “Yeah, she was a little restless, but no nightmares,” he said. “I think being with your mom did her a world of good.”

  “I agree, I’m so glad they all came yesterday,” she said. “I think my brothers wore her out.”

  Nodding, Mike got up and stood next to Mary; both of them looked down at the sleeping child. “They made her laugh,” he said. “She needed to be silly. She hasn’t had nearly enough silly in her life.”

  Mary glanced around the room. “Did Henry or Becca…”

  Mike shook his head, interrupting her. “No, they’ve really moved on,” he said. “You’re her mother now, Mary.”

  Mary took a deep breath. “It’s a little overwhelming,” she said. “What if I mess up?”

  “Well, I can pretty much guarantee that you’ll mess up, say things you regret later, be unreasonable occasionally and even be cranky,” Mike said. “That’s all part of being a human parent. But the most important ingredient in the mix is unconditional love. Once you have that, you’re golden.”

  Mary ran her hand tenderly over Clarissa’s forehead. “Okay, I guess I’m golden,” she whispered.

  “Mom?” Clarissa mumbled, her eyes still closed.

  Mary looked up at Mike, unsure.

  “It’s for you,” he said, stepping back away from the bed.

  Hesitantly, Mary leaned over the bed and kissed Clarissa on her cheek. “Good morning, sweetheart,” she said.

  Clarissa opened her eyes, took a moment to focus and smiled. “Good morning, mom.”

  “How are you feeling today?” Mary asked.

  Stretching slowly, Clarissa seemed to be taking inventory. “I think I’m good,” she said, thoughtfully.

  “Good enough to go to school?” Mary asked.

  Nodding, Clarissa sat up and pushed the covers away. “Yes, because today is gym and art,” she said, “my two favorite classes.”

  “Well, then, I suppose you should go,” Mary replied. “What would you like to wear?”

  Nearly fifteen minutes later, once the wardrobe decisions had been made, Mary and Clarissa climbed down the stairs towards the kitchen. “Something smells good,” Clarissa said, lifting her nose into the air and taking a deep sniff.

  “It smells like blueberry muffins,” Mary said, “but that’s impossible. Only…”

  “What’s impossible?” Stanley asked, coming to the bottom of the stairs. “That old folks like us could get up early enough to surprise a couple of sleepy heads with muffins?”

  Mary gave Stanley a big hug. “Welcome home,” she said.

  “Yeah, well, I’d still be on our honeymoon iffen I had any say in the matter,” he grumbled.

  “Now Stanley,” Rosie called from the kitchen. “You know you were just as excited to come home.”

  Rosie came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on the towel tucked into her waistband and enveloped Mary in a hug. “We heard about your newest family member and couldn’t wait to meet her.”

  Clarissa had stopped several steps above them, not quite sure what she shoul
d do. When Mary held her hand up to her, she eagerly took it and came down the last few steps.

  “Clarissa, I want you to meet two of my dearest friends,” Mary said. “This is Mr…”

  “Poppa Stanley,” Stanley interrupted. “That’s what all my grandkids call me. You just call me Poppa Stanley.”

  “And I’m your Nanna Rosie,” Rosie said, coming forward and hugging the little girl. “We are so happy to meet you. We already love you.”

  Clarissa looked over at Mary. “I have more grandparents?” she asked, her eyes wide in wonder.

  “I suppose you do,” she replied with a wide smile. “And you’ll meet more of your grandparents next week.”

  “How do you feel about blueberry muffins for breakfast?” Rosie asked.

  “I feel very good about them,” Clarissa answered, taking Rosie’s hand and allowing her to lead her to the kitchen table. “Are you a good cooker?”

  “She’s the best cooker in the world,” Stanley said with an indulgent smile. Then he turned to Mary and whispered, “How are things here?”

  “Well, Gary Copper escaped from custody and we’ve had a couple of visits,” Mary replied. “He was even bold enough to walk up to Clarissa at school. So, we’ve increased police security and we’re being cautious.”

  Then she smiled at him. “Which reminds me, I need to change the password on my door lock. It seems just anyone can let themselves in.”

  Stanley laughed. “Not just anyone,” he said. “Poppa and Nanna Wagner.”

  “Am I smelling muffins?” Ian asked as he half-stumbled down the stairs.

  “Is that foreigner still here?” Stanley asked loudly.

  Ian grinned. “Is that old man who stole my best girl here?”

  “She chose the better man,” Stanley replied.

  Coming into the living room, Ian gave Stanley a hug. “Aye, that she did,” he said. “Welcome back. And how was your honeymoon?”

  “I ain’t gonna kiss and tell, young man,” Stanley said. “Suffice it to say, I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

  “Oh, Stanley, just stop it,” Rosie said from the kitchen.

  Ian walked over to her and gave her a hug. “Darling, are you sure you made the right decision?” he asked, snatching a muffin from the plate she was carrying. “You can still run away with me.”

  “Ian, I’m sorry, but Stanley completely stole my heart,” she replied. “I’m afraid I’ll have to turn you down.”

  He took a bite of the muffin. “Rosie, my heart,” he said, his mouth full. “Do you, perhaps, have a sister?”

  She giggled. “Oh, Ian.”

  At that moment Bradley walked into the house. He smelled the warm muffins and felt the love in the room. Rosie was bent over Clarissa, offering her another muffin. Stanley and Mary were laughing at something Ian had said and Ian was teasing Stanley. This was his family. These were the people who were going to help him raise his daughter. This was the security and love he’d longed for all of his life.

  Clarissa looked over at Mary. “Am I going to have a sister?” she asked.

  There was silence in the room for a moment. Mary turned and saw Bradley standing near the door and her face flushed. He immediately remembered the vision of her in his dream, pregnant and glowing. The perfect Madonna. He walked over to Mary and took her in his arms, kissing her tenderly. “Maybe someday, Clarissa,” he said, still looking into Mary’s eyes. “Maybe someday you will have a sister and a brother too.”

  “Well, you two can make smoochie faces with each other,” Stanley growled. “I’m getting some muffins afore they’re cold.”

  Clarissa laughed. “Smoochie faces? That’s funny Poppa Stanley.”

  “Poppa Stanley?” Bradley asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “We’re just one big happy family,” Mary replied with a smile.

  Bradley leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Yes. Yes we are.”

  Chapter Forty-five

  An hour later, the house was much quieter. Bradley had driven Clarissa to school and Rosie and Stanley had gone home so Mary and Ian could get some work done.

  Bradley had brought Faith Foley’s background check with him that morning and now Mary and Ian were finally getting around to reading it.

  “I know it all revolves around Faith,” Mary said, pulling up a chair at the table. “I just can’t quite put my finger on what.”

  “Well, this ought to help,” Ian said, lifting the multi-paged report up and dividing it into two piles. “I’ll take the front half and you take the back half.”

  They both began to study the report, carefully inching their way down each sheet, looking for pertinent information.

  “This is odd,” Ian remarked.

  “What?” Mary asked.

  “The boarding school in Switzerland,” Ian said. “It’s a grand school, but it was generally known as a place where, um, larger girls could go and become a more acceptable size.”

  “Well, that’s odd because all of the photos of Faith show her to be extremely thin,” Mary said. “Is there another reason she would be sent there?”

  “Well, maybe to learn how to be sympathetic to girls who weren’t the perfect size 2,” Ian suggested. “And, for a generally good liberal arts education.”

  “Okay, that could be the ultimate therapy,” Mary said. “Go to a school with a bunch of girls like your sister and become friends. Perhaps make amends for the mean things you did to her by being nice to others.”

  Ian shrugged and looked back down at the report. “Could be,” he murmured, his focus back on the page.

  “Her grades were really good,” he commented. “And this isn’t an easy school.”

  “That’s odd, because her G.P.A. in Freeport was really bad,” Mary said. “She wasn’t the scholar in the family.”

  “Well, tragedy changes people,” he said.

  They continued to read. “She went to Stanford after Switzerland,” Mary said. “She got a B.S. in Psychology and then got her Law Degree. Sounds like the good grades continued.

  “Wait, did you say a B.S. in Psychology?” Ian asked.

  Mary nodded. “Why?”

  “Stanford’s Psychology Department has done a tremendous amount of research on using hypnosis,” he said. “I worked with some people from Stanford when I learned how to hypnotize subjects for my research. They really are top of their game.”

  “Hypnosis. Really?” Mary asked. “Could someone be hypnotized to kill themselves?”

  “Depends on the subject and the suggestion that was given,” Ian said. “It’s generally easier to have someone follow a hypnotic suggestion if they are in sympathy with the request.”

  “If someone made you feel that you might have been responsible for another’s death, would that be sympathetic enough?” Mary asked.

  “Aye, that would work,” Ian said. “So Faith is avenging her sister’s death.”

  “You would think that’s the case,” Mary said. “But that doesn’t make sense with what we saw. Hope’s death was an accident, she was playing…”

  Mary stopped for a moment, stared into space and then quickly turned to Ian. “Do you still have the police report about Hope’s death?”

  Ian nodded and rustled through the pile of folders, finally pulling out the correct one. He handed it to Mary. Quickly flipping it open, she scanned the report looking for the coroner’s report.

  “This is it,” she said. “This is what’s wrong with the whole thing.”

  “What?” Ian asked.

  “The Coroner lists Hope’s weight at 116,” Mary said. “From the photos we have of Hope, there was no way she was 116 pounds.”

  “Could be a typo,” Ian said.

  Mary nodded. “Yes, or it could be something entirely different. Let’s go to the nursing home and find out.”

  Chapter Forty-six

  True to her word, Katie Brennan planned on spending the entire day in her house working on projects. She had locked both the front and back door a
nd was starting to clean out the hallway closet when there was a sharp rap on the front door.

  “I’m not home,” she muttered to herself, ignoring the knock and sorting through the stacks of magazines stored in boxes.

  The knock repeated, more urgently this time.

  “I’m not…,” she paused.

  What if one of the kids had been hurt and they hadn’t been able to get a hold of her? What if the police were outside her door? What if the house next door was on fire?

  She scrambled to her feet and hurried to the front door. Peering through the peephole, she saw Faith Foley standing on her porch.

  “How odd,” she thought aloud. “I haven’t seen Faith in years.”

  She opened the door.

  “Oh, Katie, I’m so sorry to bother you,” Faith said quickly. “I’ve been speaking with your friends, Mary and Ian, and they told me about the suicides. I mean, I guess the murders.”

  Katie nodded. “Yes, it’s pretty weird, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it’s weird and scary,” Faith agreed. “And they said you and I were the only two left in the yearbook photo. I am so sorry I dragged you into this, I had no idea…”

  “Well, of course you didn’t,” Katie said. “How could you even imagine that so many years later someone would be avenging Hope’s death.”

  Faith hung her head and pulled out a tissue. “It’s just like it was yesterday,” she said quietly into her tissue. “I can still remember her in such detail.”

  “Oh, Faith, I’m so sorry,” Katie said. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like to lose someone you love so much.”

  Faith lifted her head and dabbed around her eyes. “It’s just…,” she began and then she took a shuddering breath. “Every year, on the anniversary of her death, I have a private memorial service for her. But this year, I hate to admit that I’m afraid to be alone.”