Never Forgotten - a Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery

by Terri Reid

  Never Forgotten - A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book 3)

  by

  Terri Reid

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Terri Reid

  Never Forgotten

  A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book Three)

  Copyright (c) 2011 by Terri Reid

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  ****

  Never Forgotten

  A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book Three)

  Prologue

  The snow fell softly on the rooftops in the city of Freeport. From his vantage place in the City Hall Building, the Police Chief stood at his office window and looked down over the people he vowed to serve and protect. He hoped they were gathered together with their families enjoying this magical evening.

  Christmas Eve. A night of peace. A night of joy. A night of miracles.

  He smiled to himself as he contemplated the miracles that had occurred in his own life. Even the idea of being Chief of the Freeport Police Department was something miraculous to him. Who would have thought that a beat cop could have made it to the top?

  The smile was replaced by a frown as he received another sharp pain in his stomach. He really needed to see someone about the pains, they were getting increasingly worse. Probably an ulcer, he thought. It would make sense, given how crazy my life has been lately.

  Walking back to his desk, he opened the top drawer and pulled out a container of antacid tablets. After taking three, the pain seemed to dissipate a little. He sat back in his chair and enjoyed the silence of his office for a moment.

  I really ought to be getting home.

  He sighed and shook his head.

  Home to an empty house. Home to an undecorated tree. Home to a lonely evening filled with memories.

  A sound in the hallway quickly had him on alert. Footsteps. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was after ten. Who in the world was still in the office at this hour?

  The sharp rap on the door had him sitting up at his desk.

  “Yes?”

  The door opened. He sighed silently. Not this again.

  She moved slowly towards his desk. She was dressed for an evening on the town, not a late night at work. He couldn’t help but notice the dress accentuated every part of her body. Perhaps she had been called away from a party.

  “Something up?” he asked.

  She slid a hip on the corner of his desk and leaned forward, her ample curves very much on display. He swallowed and lifted his face to meet her eyes.

  “No, I was thinking about you and saw your office light on when I was driving by,” she purred. “So, I thought I’d come up and say ‘Merry Christmas.’”

  He smiled, briefly. “Well, that was very nice of you,” he said. “Merry Christmas. Now don’t let me keep you from your festivities.”

  She glided closer. “We could celebrate,” she said, whispering, reaching forward to caress his face. “I have some mistletoe and some champagne. We could lock the door and no one would have to know.”

  He stood abruptly, his chair clattering to the floor behind him.

  “Look,” he said, trying to find the right combination of patience and firmness in his voice, “You are a very attractive woman. Incredibly attractive. But, I just can’t…”

  She slipped off the desk and folded her arm across her chest, her mouth held in a pout.

  “Yes, I know,” she said, with a petulant shrug. “Your wife.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, my wife and…other things. It’s just not going to work between us. I’m sorry.”

  She walked around the desk to him, her high heels clicking slowly as she approached. Like a panther on the prowl, he thought. She slipped her arms up his chest and around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair.

  “Just one kiss?” she whispered, “to say good-bye.”

  He pulled his head back and shook it. “No, I’m afraid not.”

  She sighed and stepped away.

  “I would have been remarkable,” she said. “I could have made you forget anyone else.”

  He stepped back. “I don’t doubt that for a moment. But, I don’t want to forget. And we have to work together; I don’t want anything to interfere with our jobs.”

  He grimaced; the pain in stomach hit him again.

  “Oh, poor baby,” she cooed. “Stomach bothering you?”

  He took a deep breath and pushed past the pain. “It’s nothing. It’ll pass.”

  Running her hand down the side of his face, she smiled. “Oh, I’m sure it will.”

  She walked across the room to the small table holding a coffee pot, a couple of mugs and several containers. “Are you still drinking the tea I gave you?” she asked, lifting the ornamental metal container.

  He nodded. “Yeah, thanks, it does seem to help.”

  She opened it. “Well, look at this, it’s almost empty. Why don’t you let me take it and refill it? No strings,” she added quickly, “Just between friends.”

  He nodded, appreciating her emphasis on friends. “That would be nice. Thanks.”

  The pain in his stomach intensified; he bent forward and clasped the table. “I don’t know what’s happening,” he groaned. “It just started this week.”

  Slipping the lid back on the container, she placed it in her purse. “Sometimes these things take on a life of their own. Would you like me to call an ambulance?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m sure I’ll be…”

  “Okay,” she replied lightly, wiggling her fingers in a wave. “Bye Chief. Too bad this couldn’t have come to a more mutually satisfying ending.”

  She paused at the door when she heard his body hit the ground. “Well, damn. He couldn’t have waited another ten minutes?”

  She turned back into the room, placed her purse on the table and walked over to his prone body. She looked around and found a plastic wrapper on his desk. Placing it between her fingers and his neck, she felt for a pulse.

  Nothing.

  She sighed, stuffed the wrapper into the bottom of the trash can, walked across the room, lifted her purse, turned back to the body and shrugged. “Too bad. We could have been great.”

  Chapter 1

  “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” Bradley sang, as he pulled his car into the parking spot reserved for the Chief of Police.

  He glanced up to the second floor and, for a moment, thought he saw a glimmer of light at the window from former Police Chief Sam Rodger’s office. Narrowing his eyes, he looked agai
n. Nothing. “I’ve got ghosts on my mind,” he thought and then grinned, thinking of Mary. “And that’s not a bad thing.”

  Mary O’Reilly was a local private investigator, who, through a near-death experience, now had the ability to communicate with ghosts. Although he had been a firm skeptic, a few months working with her had not only turned Bradley into a believer, but had changed his entire life.

  There were only a couple of things to do before he could go home. He glanced down at the clock display in the cruiser. It was a little after ten. Later than he planned because he really hadn’t meant to stay at Mary’s for as long as he did. His grin grew even wider, but he was darn glad he had.

  He got out of the vehicle and walked over to the large brick building. Catching a glimpse of his reflection in City Hall’s glass doors, he shook his head. He looked like a love-struck teenager. It was certainly not the impression the Chief of Police should be making. He took a deep breath and schooled his features as he watched himself in the reflection.

  A little tougher, he thought, closing his eyes slightly and firming his jaw. Yeah, better.

  He turned his head to the side. Yeah, now he looked like the tough cop the people of Freeport had come to know and love.

  Love.

  He sighed, his eyes widened, his jaw softened and the grin came back. Damn, he was in love. And it felt really good. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open and went in.

  Only the emergency lights were on in the building, and although they were dim, they shed enough light for Bradley to find his way to the second floor.

  He paused at the top of the stairs. The former Chief’s office had been turned into a computer lab, housing some new equipment the city had purchased before Bradley had taken the job. When he took the position, the mayor had offered to have the equipment moved somewhere else, but Bradley was just as happy with his smaller office at the end of the hall. There was something about the old office that made him uneasy.

  He walked past the office. A frisson of uneasiness sent the hairs on the back of his neck tingling. He stopped at the door. The noise was muffled, if he hadn’t been concentrating on the room, he probably wouldn’t have heard it. He placed his hand on the door knob and slowly turned it.

  He heard the well-oiled latch softly slip from the strike plate as he pulled the door towards him. The room was unlit, but the glow from the streetlights outside allowed Bradley to see. The large room had been divided up into a maze of four quadrants, using eight foot shelving units to separate the stations. The old building, with its twelve-foot pressed tin ceiling, had plenty of room to spare on top of the shelves, so they had become a gardener’s paradise of spider plants, philodendron, English ivy, Boston Ferns and any other random plant that needed a home. Usually inviting, the plants now threw sinister shadows along the walls and other surfaces.

  Bradley crept forward between the tall narrow aisles created by the shelves. Just before he reached the corner he heard a thump, the sound of a body hitting the floor. He rushed forward into the corner of the room.

  The desk was empty. The chair was pushed up against it, neatly awaiting its usual occupant. No one was in the corner. No one was there to make the sound. No one…alive.

  A cold chill ran down his back. He really wanted to leave the room. Instead, he moved closer.

  He walked to the window and looked outside. Snow fell softly on the rooftops in the city of Freeport. It was Christmas Eve, a night of peace and miracles.

  “Go home.”

  Bradley jumped around. The voice was just behind him.

  Even before he turned, he knew no one would be there.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, still cold from the breath that carried those words.

  “Whoever you are,” he said aloud, “you won’t be here much longer. I promise.”

  Chapter 2

  Mary O’Reilly stood in her darkened bedroom, staring out the window into the night sky. She was wrapped in her favorite terry bath robe and thick cotton socks. “I really can’t stay, but baby it’s cold outside,” she sang with a giggle. How could this day have been any better?

  A lone star came out from behind the cloud cover and sparkled above the city. My very own Christmas star, Mary thought, hugging herself. My very own fairytale come true.

  Suddenly she felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise and knew she was no longer alone. She turned around to see a dimly illuminated figure standing on the other side of her bed. She reached slowly for the bedside lamp and turned it on.

  The same ghost she’d seen in the hospital, in their hotel room, and finally, at the Rawleigh Building, stood before her.

  “Thank you,” Mary said. “I really didn’t get a chance to say that earlier. You saved our lives.”

  The ghost smiled sadly and nodded.

  “I want to help you,” Mary said. “Would you like me to help you move on?”

  The ghost nodded again.

  “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Jeannine Alden, Bradley’s wife.”

  Mary felt her stomach clench and her knees weaken. She staggered forward to brace herself against her bed.

  “You’re…you’re Bradley’s wife?”

  The ghost nodded, her eyes never leaving Mary’s.

  Tears filled Mary’s eyes. “You died,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry you died.”

  A shadow of a smile passed across Jeannine’s face. “I’ve been dead for a long time,” she said.

  “And…,” Mary paused, clapped her hand over her mouth as she remembered what had occurred downstairs less than an hour ago.

  She couldn’t meet Jeannine’s face. “How long have you been here? In my house?”

  Jeannine shrugged, “Several hours, I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “I am so sorry,” Mary apologized profusely. “Here you are, waiting for me to help you and I’m downstairs kissing your husband…”

  She froze. “You did know that I was kissing him, right?” she asked, biting her lower lip.

  Jeannine nodded.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Mary said. “Well, no, that’s not true. I really did mean to. But, I didn’t know. Well, I did know that you were married to him. But, I didn’t know that you were dead. Okay, that makes it sound even worse.”

  Mary threw her hands in the air and started pacing. “I mean, it’s been over eight years,” she explained. “And I figured that, you know, something had happened to you because no one in their right mind would leave Bradley. But, you know, I didn’t even think about that. I just thought about him…and me… and…”

  “And you love him,” Jeannine said.

  Mary stopped pacing, turned to Jeannine and nodded.

  “Yes, I do,” she said, “But now…”

  Jeannine glided across the room to hover in front of Mary. “Now, nothing changes.”

  Mary shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “When I tell him…”

  “You can’t tell him,” Jeannine interrupted.

  “What? Of course I’m going to tell him,” Mary said. “I couldn’t keep your death a secret from him, it wouldn’t be right. Besides, he will want to help you too.”

  “Mary, I’m not here because I need help,” Jeannine interrupted. “I’m here because Bradley is in danger.”

  “What?”

  Instantly alert, Mary was across the room, her hand on the door before Jeannine’s words stopped her.

  “Mary, stop. He’s safe right now,” she said. “But there is something out there that has Bradley on its radar.”

  Mary turned back to Jeannine. “On its radar? What do you mean by that?”

  Jeannine glided back in forth across the room. “I don’t really have specifics,” she said. “There’s quite a bit of unexplained activity here. Confused spirits. They are still here, but don’t know why.”

  “Who are they?”

  Jeannine shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t divulge their information,” she said. “I wish I could. But they have t
o tell their own stories. It’s their right.”

  “It has to be their choice,” Mary said, nodding with understanding. “It always has to be about choice.”

  “Yes, but I’ve been warned that Bradley is in danger,” she said. “I need you to help him.”

  “But…” Mary began.

  Jeannine shook her head. “Agree that you will do this, and only then will I answer your questions.”

  Mary sighed. “Yes, of course, you didn’t even have to ask. I don’t want anything to happen to Bradley.”

  Jeannine smiled. “Yes I did have to ask,” she said. “Because now I am your client and as such, you can’t disclose any information about me, unless I give you permission. You may not tell Bradley that I’m dead.”

  “Wait a minute,” Mary countered. “That’s not fair. He has a right to know.”

  “In due time,” Jeannine agreed. “But not yet. He’s not ready to see me.”

  “How can you just decide what he’s ready or not ready to do?” Mary asked.

  “Because I’ve given him the chance to see me,” Jeannine replied. “And the only time he chose to see me is when I was signaling him from the top of the Rawleigh Building when you were in danger.”

  “That was you?”

  Jeannine nodded. “He saw the signal,” she said. “But even when he was holding you, he couldn’t see me. He’s not ready.”

  Jeannine began to slowly fade away.

  “But what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” Mary asked. “I’m lying to him.”

  “Protect him,” she said. “Keep him safe.”

  Then Jeannine was gone.

  Mary stared at the empty spot, trying to collect her thoughts. She knew she couldn’t tell Bradley, not after Jeannine had specifically forbidden her. But, when he eventually found out that she had known, would he ever be able to trust her again?

  She sighed. Well, I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Right now, all that’s important is keeping him safe and finding out why he’s in danger.