by Terri Reid
The roads were clear and, luckily, empty. Mary turned onto Empire Street and sped toward West Street. The light was turning yellow; Mary accelerated and just made the left onto West.
The speed limit was 30 mph on West, but she decided if she got caught speeding, she could bring them along to City Hall to help with Bradley. She turned on Highway 75 and slowed a little on the narrow residential street. She turned right onto Walnut Street; City Hall was only three blocks away. Mary fudged the last stop sign and slid into the parking spot for the Director of Community Relations, facing the wrong way on the side of the street.
She jumped out of the car and slid on the snow, only then realizing that she was still wearing her house slippers. She hurried across the sidewalk and to the side door to City Hall. She pushed on the door. It was locked. She was about to pound on it, when an unseen hand opened the door for her.
“Thanks, Jeannine,” she whispered and entered the building.
She took the stairs two at a time, but slowed at the top, not sure what she would find. She eased her way around the corner and saw Bradley draped over Angela. At first her heart clenched, thinking they were romantically entangled. But then she took a closer look and realized that Angela was half dragging Bradley out of his office.
She ran forward. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “What happened?”
Bradley lifted his head and struggled to smile. “Mary, sweetheart, you came,” he whispered.
“Of course I came,” she said, moving forward and wiping the sweat from his forehead, “That’s our deal, you rescue me and I rescue you.”
He smiled, then stiffened and groaned.
“What’s wrong with him?” Mary asked Angela.
Angela shook her head. “I don’t know, we were meeting together and suddenly it hit. I was going to take him to the hospital.”
“Did you call 911?”
“No, I thought it would be faster if I drove him.”
Mary looked at the petite woman and wondered how she thought she was going to get him down the stairs by herself. “Well, my car is parked right at the door,” Mary said. “Let’s get him down the steps and I’ll get him to the hospital.”
“Well, really, I was there, I should take him,” Angela protested.
“Let’s just get him downstairs, then we can flip for who gets him,” Mary stated.
With one of Bradley’s arms around each of the women, they slowly maneuvered him down the stairs. “He’s heavy,” Angela protested.
“You should try carrying him on your back,” Mary said dryly, thinking back to the time she had to carry an unconscious Bradley to save his life.
“What?”
“Never mind,” Mary replied. “That was several months ago.”
They got him outside where Mary’s car stood running. “Mary,” Bradley whispered. “Take me to the hospital. But don’t kill me on the way there.”
Mary turned to Angela and shrugged. “Looks like I won the toss,” she said, helping Bradley into the Roadster. “Thanks for your help; I would have never been able to get him down those stairs without you.”
“But, but, but,” Angela stammered.
“If you want to meet us at the hospital, that would be great,” Mary said, cutting her off.
Mary jumped into the Roadster and turned right on Stephenson Street, speeding the mile to the hospital. She dialed 911 on her cell as she drove and told the dispatcher that she was going to need help once she got to the ER to get Bradley out of the car. The dispatcher assured her she would have all the help she needed.
Two squad cars were waiting when Mary pulled into the parking lot. She pulled the Roadster into the drive in front of the Emergency Room and a team of triage nurses moved forward with a stretcher. Two large police officers had Bradley out of the car before Mary could even turn it off. She tossed the keys to one of them as she followed the stretcher into the hospital. “Could you?” she asked.
He smiled back. “Don’t worry, Miss O’Reilly, we’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks,” she said and hurried into the hospital.
She ran alongside the stretcher, Bradley’s hand clasped in hers. “You have to get better,” she said firmly.
He tried to smile and then grimaced with pain. “If I die, I can still visit you.”
Mary leaned close, “But you can’t kiss me.”
He squeezed her hand tightly. “Well, that’s more than enough incentive to get better.”
The door to the exam room was getting closer and Mary knew she would be left on the outside. “I love you, Bradley Alden,” she whispered.
“Me too,” he whispered.
His hand slid out of hers as he was wheeled into the exam room. Mary watched the white door close in front of her.
She really hated hospitals.
Two of his officers waited a few feet away. They had run alongside too, escorting the stretcher down the hall. Mary recognized one of the officers as Ashley Deutsch, a cop Mary could trust. Ashley walked over and stood next to Mary. “What happened?”
Mary shook her head. “He was meeting with Angela Murray, the Coroner, and he started getting intense stomach pains. Angela said she had no idea what had happened.”
“It sounds like the curse,” Ashley whispered.
“The curse?” Mary asked, waiting for the rest of the joke. “Are you kidding?”
Ashley shook her head. “I wish I was,” she said. “I mean, we’ve been calling it the curse, because we have no idea what’s causing it. We’ve lost nearly a dozen law enforcement officers in the past four years and all of them had the same symptoms, intense abdominal pains. They seem to get better and then they just die.”
“No one has found anything strange with the deaths?” Mary asked.
“All the coroner reports have come back negative.”
“Who was the last one to die?” Mary asked.
“As far as I know it was the old Chief, Sam Rogers.”
“But I thought no autopsy was done on Sam,” Mary said, recalling her conversation with Angela.
Ashley shook her head. “No, I’m sure one was done,” she replied, “because it was part of the curse. We all wanted to know what was causing it.”
“Thanks, Ashley,” Mary said, wondering if she had misinterpreted Angela’s comments. “Ashley, do you have a list of the names of the people who died?”
“Yeah, I can get you one,” she said. “Let me make some calls and I’ll get it to you right away.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“Do you want something? Some coffee or something?”
Mary shook her head, arms wrapped around her waist as she stood watching the door. “No, I’m good, thanks.”
Mary woke from her nap on the small couch in the secluded waiting room. The room was dark, the only light coming from the hallway through the small window in the door. She was supposed to be alone, but she knew someone else was in the room with her. She slowly opened one eye and peered as far as she could see. Then she opened the other. No one was within her view. She slowly turned over and looked towards the back of the room. She could make out a shadowy figure in the corner, furthest away from the light. Sitting up on the couch, she peered closer. “Can I help you?”
The figure wavered, like heat waves on a desert highway, and then solidified once again.
“Please, let me help you,” Mary coaxed, “You don’t have to be afraid.”
Mary got up and moved closer. She could see her visitor was the same woman from Christmas night. She was wearing the same clothing, but now there were clumps of dirt and debris on her face and clothing.
“I went to your house, but you weren’t there,” she accused. “You said you would help me.”
“I’m sorry, my friend got sick and I had to bring him here,” she explained. “He’s still under observation and I’m waiting to hear how he’s doing.”
The ghost nodded. “No, I’m sorry, I hope he gets better.”
Mary smiled, “Thank you
. Why did you seek me out? What do you need me to do for you?”
“He put me in a hole,” she said, tears flowing freely. “He just dragged me over and put me in a hole.”
“I’m so sorry,” Mary said, suddenly understanding the difference in the ghost’s appearance.
“I’m not in a grave,” she said. “I’m hidden away. No one will be able to find me.”
“I’ll find you,” Mary vowed. “I promise Peggy, I’ll find you.”
“You know my name?” the ghost asked, surprise written on her face.
Mary nodded. “Yes, and I’ll find out more about you.”
“Just help me, Mary, I don’t want to be forgotten,” Peggy said just before she faded away.
Chapter 19
A few minutes after Peggy had disappeared, a nurse entered the room. “Miss O’Reilly?”
“Yes,” Mary said, quickly moving across the room to the nurse.
“Chief Alden is awake and asking for you.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said, relief driving through her. “How is he doing?”
“Better, much better,” she replied with a smile.
Mary followed the nurse down the corridor to a recovery room. She opened the door and stepped to the side, allowing Mary to enter, and then she left them alone. Bradley was sitting up on the bed against a backfill of pillows. His face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shaky.
“Hey,” Mary said softly. “Are you awake?”
His eyes opened and met hers. A smile spread across his face. “We really have to stop meeting like this,” he whispered.
“Did someone once tell you that lying in a hospital bed is supposed to be sexy or something?” she asked, approaching the bed.
He grinned. “So, is it?”
She moved close, brushed his hair back from his face and cupped his cheek with her hand. “Yeah, as long as you’re in the bed, it is,” she said. “But, really, you don’t have to impress me anymore. Okay?”
“Oh, now you tell me,” he teased, trying to hide a look of pain.
“Still hurts?”
“It’s not too bad,” he said. “I’ve felt worse, although I’ll never play the violin again.”
She chuckled softly. “You used that one in Chicago, you fraud.”
She took a deep breath. “How are you, really?”
“I should be finding out pretty soon,” he replied. “They told me the test results will be complete at any time.”
Just as Bradley completed his sentence, the door opened and Dr. Louise Thorne walked into the room. She was a middle-aged woman with a calm and intelligent air about her. She spoke with authority, yet didn’t speak down to her patients. Mary liked her quite a bit.
“Hello, Dr. Thorne,” Mary said.
“Tests results back?” Bradley asked.
“Good morning, Mary, Bradley,” she said, flipping open the chart she was carrying. “Yes, the results are in and I’m not happy with them.”
“Why not? “ Bradley asked.
“Because, although they tell us there is definitely something wrong, they don’t tell us what.”
“So, what does that mean?” Mary asked.
Dr. Thorne looked at her for a moment, closed the chart and sighed, “Mary, I can’t answer your questions and, really, I shouldn’t be discussing Bradley’s medical findings with you in the room.”
Shaking her head, Mary apologized, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even consider that I probably shouldn’t be in the room while you are discussing Bradley’s case.”
Mary started to leave when Bradley grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her back. “Doc, Mary is…well, Mary has the right…,” he paused, flustered. “I want Mary to stay and hear what you have to say.”
Smiling, Dr. Throne looked at the two, Mary slightly embarrassed, but tenderly holding Bradley’s hand and Bradley meeting Mary’s eyes with adoration. “Well, as long as it’s fine with you, it’s fine with me,” she said. “And…congratulations.”
She flipped the chart open again. “Bradley, your thyroid and kidney functions are fine. Your electrolytes are normal. But what concerns me is your liver enzyme levels, particularly the SGPT/ALT levels, are really high.”
“Which means?” Bradley asked.
“Well, normally liver enzymes live inside the cells of the liver, but when the liver is injured, these enzymes leak out into the blood,” she said, “the higher the level, the potentially more damage to the liver. High enzyme levels can be caused by a number of things, including a number of diseases, exposure to toxins, even the onset hepatitis. But at this point, we don’t know which direction to pursue and what is causing your inflated levels.”
“So, what’s the next step?” Mary asked.
Dr. Thorne closed the file and shook her head. “Well, all we can do is monitor your levels and try to determine what’s causing them. All Bradley can do is rest.”
“Wait, Doc, no disrespect intended, but I have a police department to run. I can’t be lying on my back while you folks try and figure out what’s going on inside of me.”
“While I appreciate your concern is the safety of the city of Freeport,” Dr. Thorne replied. “My concern is the safety of my patient. With your elevated levels, if you push too hard you could cause permanent damage to your liver. As it is, we don’t know how much damage you’ve already done. You are on strict bed rest, at least until your levels look better. You can come back in two days and we’ll check your levels again.”
As soon as Dr. Thorne left the room, Mary turned to Bradley. “Well, one thing’s for sure; you can’t go to your place and be by yourself. What if this attack happens again?”
“Great! So take me back to my office, there are a lot of people there.”
“Good try, but no deal. You’re coming to my house.”
He took her hand in his. “Mary, you have work to do. I can’t let you sit around babysitting me.”
She grinned. “Oh, I won’t,” she said. “I’m calling Rosie to come over. She’ll fix you up.”
Bradley rolled his eyes, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
The door burst open and Angela walked in. “Bradley, I heard you were being released and I thought I’d offer my…,” she stopped when she saw Mary standing with her hand in Bradley’s. “Oh, hello, Mary, I didn’t realize you were still here.”
“Hello, Angela,” Mary replied, hating the fact that she looked like she had slept in her clothes and Angela looked fresh and stylish, “Nice to see you too.”
Angela smiled briefly at Mary and turned her attention back to Bradley. “As I was saying,” she continued. “I would be very happy to offer you my services to help you feel better.”
“I don’t think he’s feeling quite well enough for those kind of services,” Mary muttered.
Bradley choked.
“Excuse me? I’m sorry, Mary, I’m afraid I didn’t hear you.”
“I said…that was very kind of you,” Mary improvised, “but Bradley will be coming to my house to recover.”
Angela slowly looked at Mary, taking in her house slippers, sweats and mussed hair and makeup. “Surely not,” she said with obvious disdain.
Bradley wrapped his arm around Mary, mostly to prevent her from taking Angela out in the middle of the hospital, but also to demonstrate to Angela that he was in a committed relationship. “Yes, Angela, I really appreciate your offer, but Mary’s place is like a second home to me anyway,” he said, lifting Mary’s hand and placing a kiss on her palm.
Angela’s hiss of anger was audible. “Well,” she huffed. “I just wanted to be sure you were taken care of. Obviously you are.”
She walk across the room and handed a paper sack to Mary. “Since he’s going to your house, let me offer you some of my tea,” she said. “It should help take care of him.”
She turned, started to leave the room and then stopped and looked back. “Oh, Mary,” she said with a smile. “Please be sure to try i
t yourself. I’m sure you’ll find it very refreshing.”
She left the room, closing the door firmly behind her.
“Now I feel like a bug,” Mary sighed, turning to Bradley. “I really didn’t mean to be unkind.”
“You weren’t unkind…okay, maybe the comment about services,” he snickered, pulling her close, “but she didn’t hear that, only I did. Besides, I think she was coming on to me in my office last night.”
“What?”
“Maybe I was reading things wrong,” he admitted. “She slid her hand over mine, squeezed it and then told me she didn’t mind being there with me in the least. Maybe she was just being nice.”
“Nice my…,”
“Foot?” Bradley suggested.
Mary grinned. “Of course that’s what I was going to say. And while I’m saying things, does our dear Angela the Coroner give out creepy vibes to you, or am I just being an overwrought, jealous girlfriend?”
“I really wish I could agree to the jealous girlfriend,” he said, “but I get the creepy vibes from her too. I don’t quite know what it is…”
“Wednesday Addams.”
“What?”
Rolling her eyes, Mary explained. “She gives out the Addams Family daughter, Wednesday, vibes. A little dark, a little macabre, and a little…”
“Psycho,” Bradley added. “Although I don’t think she has a corpse in the upstairs of her house.”
“More likely her basement,” Mary quipped. “No, I’m just being rude. I’m sure she’s just a little socially awkward. I mean, how can I blame her for being attracted to you?”
He yawned widely, then smiled sleepily at her. “Yeah, you have to admit that I’m pretty irresistible.”
“And don’t forget modest,” she leaned over and kissed him on his forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll call Rosie and get things arranged so you can recuperate at my house, Mr. Irresistible.”
Leaving his room, Mary met Ashley in the hall. “I found those names you wanted,” Ashley said, handing Mary a sheet of paper. “I think that’s all of them. Is there anything else I can do?”
