by Terri Reid
Paul sighed. “Yeah, I thought she knew that before she left.”
He looked up at Stanley, still sipping the water. “Do you need me to call the hospital or anything? He looks pretty bad.”
“No,” Mary answered. “He’ll be fine. He just has to remember to take those pills on time. Thank you so much for your offer.”
“No problem,” he shrugged. “It was just a glass of water.”
Mary walked back up the stairs and slipped her arm though Stanley’s. “I’ll help you to the car, Stanley,” she said. “Watch your step now.”
“My, these stairs are so clean,” Stanley commented to Paul. “How’d you keep them from being slippery?”
“My wife was real particular about the steps,” he said. “Didn’t want anyone falling down them, she’d always say. That was one of the last things she did before she left on her trip.”
“Will she be home soon?” Mary asked.
Paul moved past them onto the porch, ignoring her question. “If you need anything else,” he said, ‘just let me know.”
He walked into the house and shut the door behind him.
Stanley pulled his arm out from Mary’s grasp. “I look bad?” he grumbled, slipping into the car. “I look bad? Well, he don’t look too good himself.”
Chapter 16
“Stanley, stop the car,” Mary called, looking down the snow covered country lane that bordered the edge of the Thompson’s land.
Stanley slammed on the brakes and the large car fishtailed on the gravel road. Mary reached forward and braced herself against the vinyl dashboard. “Sorry,” she said through clenched teeth.
The car slowed and came to a stop, its nose pointing down the narrow gravel road that had caught Mary’s eye and caused her to call out her request. She pointed to the end of the muddy yellow lane, “Down there, the old cemetery. I think I saw someone.”
Stanley maneuvered the large car down the narrow road, keeping to the center to avoid slipping into the snow-filled ditches. He pulled over into a muddy tractor access road across from the cemetery. Mary climbed out of the car and hiked across the mud to the ditch in front of the cemetery. She looked up and down the snow-filled ditch for easier access to the graveyard. “Over here, dear,” a woman’s voice called. “There’s less snow here.”
Mary looked up to see a woman standing near a tall grave marker near the road. She moved to where the woman had gestured and climbed up the several feet to the elevation of the cemetery. Walking slowly back, she approached the woman. “Hello,” I’m Mary O’Reilly.”
The woman’s smile was warm and inviting. “It’s so nice of you to stop,” she said. “I get so lonely sometimes. I’m Shirley Thompson, Mike’s wife.”
“I’ve heard of you,” she said. “You have two boys.”
The ghost’s face turned sad and translucent tears streaked down her cheeks. “I never got to say good-bye,” she whispered. “He never let me say good-bye. How are my boys?”
“Good. Luke is a doctor and Paul is a farmer,” she said.
Shirley smiled. “Little Paul was always so good with animals, I’m glad he became a farmer.”
“Like his dad?” Mary asked.
Shirley shook her head, “No, not like his dad,” she replied. “Never like his dad.”
Mary glanced around her. The grave marker they were standing near was surrounded by an overgrown tree and brush nearly hid it away. The carving on the limestone was nearly obscured by the years of wear and tear, but she could see the date was 1890. “Shirley, this isn’t your grave,” Mary said. “Why are you here?”
Shirley sighed with a sadness that touched Mary’s heart. “This is my great-grandmother’s grave,” she said. “I stay here because it’s close to the farm.”
Shirley started to slowly fade away.
“But, where is your grave? Where were you buried?” Mary asked.
A forlorn look crossed the ghost’s face, “I’m lost, Mary,” she said. “I’m lost and I need to be found. Find me, Mary. Please find me.”
The ghost faded away.
Mary stood at the spot for a moment, feeling the echoes of loneliness Shirley had left behind.
“You okay, girlie?” Stanley asked, standing in the road below the cemetery.
Mary nodded, her voice choked by emotion.
“No need to get all emotional,” Stanley said. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to the ghosts round these parts. If that ghost knew who they’d just talked too, they’d be throwing a party.”
Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Thanks, Stanley,” she said. “It’s just so sad sometimes.”
“Hey girlie, you’re dealing with dead people, job description pretty much ensures life ain’t gonna be sunshine and roses. But, you gotta remember, once you help them they get to move on. Ain’t much better than that.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” she said, with a sigh. “Thanks for reminding me.”
He held his hand up and helped her through the pile of snow. “Ain’t saying the job don’t have its rough times, though,” Stanley grumbled, searching his pockets for his handkerchief. “And if you need to cry, well, then, cry. No reason to feel ‘shamed. Sides, for some reason I’ll never understand, women feel better after a cry.”
He handed Mary a wrinkled and slightly used white handkerchief. “Here you go,” he said. “Just go ahead and bawl into it.”
Mary grinned and gave him back the cloth. “Thanks, Stanley, but maybe I’ll wait until I get home to cry.”
Stanley took the offered handkerchief, vigorously blew his nose into it, stuffed it back into his pocket and patted the pocket for good measure. “Well girlie, it’s always there for you. You just ask and I’ll be happy to lend it to you.”
Mary’s stomach turned slightly. “Thanks, Stanley,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”
Stanley smiled and put his arm around Mary, leading her to the car. “Well, don’t let it get around,” he said. “But I’m one of those sensitive-type of men.”
Mary bit the inside of her cheek. “Stanley, you’re secret is safe with me.”
Chapter 17
Bradley looked down at the remaining items on the agenda and then looked at his watch, 7:30; this meeting was never going to end. The chances of being able to drop by Mary’s place tonight were getting slimmer and slimmer. He really wanted to know how her trip to the Thompson place had turned out.
His stomach growled, reminding him that he had skipped dinner and had a light lunch. Seated next to him at the council table, Angela sent him a sympathetic look. He shrugged his shoulders and tried to look apologetic. Angela nodded, then got up and left the meeting room.
The mayor had been reading through proposals for a new water system for the city and was now explaining the bid process. Bradley sighed quietly; did he really need to be here for this?
A movement next to him caught his eye. Angela sat down and discreetly placed a small container of cookies and a cup of tea down in front of him. He smiled at her. She was a lifesaver. He picked up one of the cookies and bit into it. The rich buttery flavor was mixed with cinnamon, sugar and something else. He looked up and turned to her, his eyes bright. “Snickerdoodles?” he mouthed silently.
She smiled back and nodded. “My mom used to make these,” he whispered. “These taste just like hers.”
Angela smiled warmly. “I got them at Cole’s Bakery this afternoon. I thought they might come in handy,” she whispered.
She picked out the right kind of cookies. The kind his mom used to make, she thought. It must be a sign.
He ate another cookie and then lifted the cup of tea. Angela held her breath. Just a couple of sips, Bradley, dear, she thought. That’s all you need.
Bradley took a sip of the tea and pulled the cup away. It had a strange taste, like the tea she had given him for Christmas. He’d only managed to drink a cup of that too, just to be polite.
He tried to pick out the ingredients. There was some mint and chamomi
le, but there were other tastes too. He wasn’t sure he liked it or not. He was about to put it down when he saw Angela’s look of anticipation. Well, damn, he was going to have to be polite about the tea. He lifted the cup in a mock toast and took another sip. It actually tasted a little better this time. Actually, the mayor’s speech was even sounding a little better too. He raised the cup again. There must be some magic brewed in this tea.
When the meeting ended, Bradley wondered where the time had gone. He looked down, surprised the tea and the cookies were gone. He turned to Angela, “Hey, thanks, you were a lifesaver.”
She shrugged. “Well, since I have to keep you even later because of our meeting, it was the least I could do,” she said. “Besides those were leftovers from my dinner, so it’s nice to know they weren’t going to waste.”
Bradley gathered up his notes and stood up. The ground was shaky beneath his feet and the room went in and out of focus. He sat back down.
“Anything wrong?” Angela asked.
Bradley shook his head. “No, I think I just got up too fast,” he said.
He stood up again. The vertigo seemed to have left him. The room wasn’t shaking and his focus was back. He turned to Angela, “Ready to meet?”
“Sure, lead the way.”
They left the room, stopping to shake hands and speak with councilmen and local reporters along the way. Finally, once they reached the hallway, Bradley turned and smiled down at Angela. “Finally,” he teased. “I thought we’d never be alone.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes widening, “I feel exactly the same way.”
Bradley grinned. It was great to find someone who could take a joke.
“So, what was in that tea?” he asked as they walked down the hall.
“Why?”
He was surprised at the tension in her voice. “Well, it was slightly addicting,” he said with a smile.
“Addicting? I can assure you that I never use anything addicting in my teas,” she began.
“Hey, Angie, calm down, it was a joke,” Bradley said, feeling a little cockier than usual. “It was good stuff, really.”
She released a breath. “Oh, of course, a joke,” she said. “I’m not great at jokes. Actually, it’s an old family recipe. It’s a love potion and if you drink enough of it, you will be totally under my power.”
Bradley laughed. “Well, we should give it to the city council before the next meeting,” he suggested. “I’m not crazy about them being in love with me, but if we can get these meeting cut to about half the time, I’d deal with it.”
Angela nodded. “Yes, having control like that would be good. Of course, we could always just poison them and make them go away,” she laughed.
A cold chill ran down Bradley’s spine at her comment. He turned to look at her again. Was she serious? Get a grip, Alden, of course she wasn’t.
Angela looked up at him, noting the shock in his eyes. “I told you I wasn’t good at jokes,” she apologized.
Shaking off the feeling of unease, Bradley responded quickly, ‘No, you’re good. That was pretty funny.”
Bradley opened the door to his office and let Angela enter first. “Welcome to my home away from home,” he said.
He walked over to the little refrigerator in the corner and pulled out a bottle of water. “Can I offer you something?” he asked. “Bottled water, soda, tea?”
Knowing the water would dilute the effects of the tea; Angela walked over and took the bottle from Bradley’s hand. “How about if you sit down and relax and let me take care of you,” she offered.
“Well, I…really, it’s no…” Bradley stammered, unsure of how to react to her. Surely she couldn’t be coming on to him. “Really, it’s no bother.”
She smiled up and him, then gently pushed him away. “Go sit down and I’ll make us both some more tea,” she said.
“I really would prefer water,” he said, trying to reach for the bottle in her hand.
She placed it behind her back and looked up at him with a crestfallen face and tears glistening in her eyes. “But, I thought you said you like my tea,” she whispered.
Good grief, this is ridiculous. What the hell is the big deal?
“Tea would be great, Angela,” he said. “I would love tea.”
He turned away, rolled his eyes and sat back on his side of the desk. He busied himself with looking at the messages Dorothy had placed on his desk while he was away from his office, there was nothing there that couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Finally he picked up his voice mail, one message.
“Well, hello there, Police Chief.”
Mary’s voice made him smile.
“Just wanted to let you know that Stanley and I are not locked up in some farmer’s basement. The trip was fairly uneventful. I got into the house - it wasn’t breaking and entering, the door was unlocked - but, other than a wedding photo, there was no sign of our ghost. I did, however, meet another ghost, which added a twist to this investigation. I’ll tell you about it when I see you.
I really hope you can make it tonight. I miss you. By the way, when you’re meeting with that stunningly attractive coroner, just remember who loves you.”
He hung up the phone slowly, the cares of the day washed away with that simple message. Yeah, he’d hurry through this meeting as fast as possible. He missed her too.
His thoughts were interrupted by Angela placing a steaming cup of tea down in front of him. He smiled at her, moved the tea to the side of his desk and opened the file with the information for their meeting. “So, what I’m interested in doing is having my officers trained on some of the basic forensic information they should be gathering when they come across a body,” he said. “Because we’re finding that important evidence is lost when we delay things.”
She nodded and took some notes. “Do you want them trained with special equipment?”
Shaking his head, he handed her a budget, “As you can see, we barely have enough budget for the training, much less equipment for each squad car. We could probably have a thermometer in each car, but that’s about it.”
She jotted down some more information. “You’re not drinking your tea,” she commented.
He shrugged, “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t as thirsty as I thought. Besides, I’m sure we both would rather be someplace else than stuck in a meeting tonight.”
She shook her head with a smile. “I enjoy being in your company, Bradley.”
She slid her hand across the table and covered his. “I don’t mind being here with you in the least.”
Whoa! Where did that come from? Bradley wondered.
He had to move his hand and do it in a way that looked natural, not insulting. He pulled his hand out from under hers, reached for his tea and took a sip. “You’re right, it is good.”
She pulled her hand back and studied her notes. “I think I could fit in some training modules beginning next month,” she said. “We could have a new module each quarter. I can offer two or three different times per module to work around shifts. Will that be acceptable?”
“Yeah, that will be great. Thanks. When do you want to start?”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a calendar. Flipping through the pages, she finally stopped, “Well, perhaps mid-February. Will that work?”
Bradley nodded. “Yeah, it will give us a chance to get the word out and schedule it. That will be great. Do you want to arrange a room, or should I?”
“I’ll see if I can get a meeting room at the hospital,” she offered, “If that doesn’t work, I’ll let you know.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Thanks for staying late, Angela, I appreciate it.”
He sat back in his chair. He felt a strange cramping in his stomach. It started with a mild twinge, but grew into an unbearable pain. He doubled over, crashing into his desk. The cup of tea careened onto the floor, breaking into pieces and scattering across the floor. His paperwork and folders flew onto the floor and spread over the tea.
Angela sat back
in her chair and watched him with a small smile on her face. The tea was working. Soon Bradley would be coming to live with her forever.
Bradley looked up at her, pain evident in his eyes. “Call for help,” he whispered. “Call 911.”
She stood and went to his side. “It will take them too long to get here,” she said. “I’ll help you. My car is just downstairs.”
Sweat beaded on his forehead, his whole body felt clammy and he couldn’t keep anything in focus. But a quick drive to the hospital sounded like a good idea. He forced himself to stand. Angela put her arm around his waist and he leaned against her as he staggered across the room.
“Don’t worry, Bradley,” she said brightly. “Soon you won’t be feeling anything at all.”
Chapter 18
Mary looked at the clock and sighed. It was after nine, Bradley was probably not coming tonight. She looked down at her Chicago Police Department sweats and thought of the way Angela had dressed both times she had seen her, form fitting clothing, high heels, make-up and sex appeal.
Mary walked over to the mirror, looked at herself and sighed. She admitted that she was nice-looking, but definitely more apple pie and baseball than musky perfume and moonlit beaches. She lifted her hair up and piled it on top of her head, to see if a more sophisticated style suited her. She turned slightly to the left and then to the right to get a good view. Still not right. She sucked in her cheeks slightly and pursed her lips. She sighed. Oh, yeah, that’s the look. Really sexy. Mary O’Reilly sucking lemons.
She let her hair fall around her shoulders and shrugged. What you see is pretty much what you get, she thought. It had better be enough for you, Bradley Alden or I’ll kick your butt.
She grinned. “What man could resist that?”
Suddenly, Mary realized that she wasn’t the only one in the mirror. Jeannine had just appeared behind her. She quickly turned.
“He needs you, now,” Jeannine said urgently. “City hall. Quickly!”
Mary grabbed her purse and dashed out the door. She hopped into the Roadster and floored it, spinning in reverse and sliding onto the street. She shoved it into first gear and sped off down the street.
