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Bumpy Roads - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book 11) (The Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series)

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by Reid, Terri


  “Ghosts are just people who died,” Mary explained. “They are as good or evil as they were as people. For some reason, they haven’t passed over to the other side. That’s part of my calling, I get to help those people figure out what’s keeping them here and help them pass over.”

  Celia was quiet for a moment and then tears filled her eyes. “I think I’ve seen her,” she whispered hoarsely.

  Mary nodded but didn’t say a word.

  “Out of the corner of my eye,” Celia continued, “I’ll see her running up the stairs or walking through the kitchen. Of course, when I turn to look, she’s never there.”

  Mary picked up a pen and jotted down a few notes. “When do you see her?”

  Celia shrugged. “The first time was on Mother’s Day, a few weeks after she disappeared,” she admitted. “I just thought it was because I wanted to see her.”

  “But then?” Mary prompted.

  “But then I would see her in places I didn’t expect,” she explained. “I mean, if I was imagining her, wouldn’t I kind of be expecting her?”

  “Seems like that would make sense,” Mary agreed. “So, what do you think?”

  A soft sob escaped through her lips and a moment later she was bent forward, weeping uncontrollably, her head pillowed in her arms. “My baby,” she cried. “I think my baby’s dead.”

  Mary grabbed the box of tissues on her desk and came around, crouching next to Celia. She put her arms around the woman and just let her continue to cry for a few more minutes. Finally, the crying calmed and Celia pulled away. Mary handed her the tissue box, but stayed close to her.

  “What would you like me to do for you?” she asked softly.

  Wiping the moisture from her face, Celia looked up at her, her face red and blotchy, her mascara smeared down her cheeks. “I want you to find her,” she whispered. “And I want you to find the man who did this to her. I want him to pay. I want him to never be able to do this to another child.”

  Mary nodded. “Do you want to help me?” she asked, making a quick decision.

  Celia’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?” she asked, a slight edge of hope in her voice.

  “Do you want to help me investigate this crime?” Mary asked. “I think we could work well together.”

  Taking a deep breath, Celia nodded. “I would like that.”

  “Okay, meet me here tomorrow morning at nine and we’ll start,” she said.

  “I’ll be here,” Celia agreed.

  “Oh, and if you could jot down anything you can remember about Courtney’s visits, that would be helpful.”

  Celia started to stand, and then stopped. “So, I’m not crazy?”

  Mary smiled. “No more crazy than me,” she said.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bradley leaned over and pushed the intercom button for the tenth time in two hours. “Sorry, Dorothy,” he said. “But I can’t seem to find the file containing the minutes from the last city council meeting.”

  “Oh, the mayor didn’t send them over to you,” she replied. “He told his secretary, who told me, that if you couldn’t find the time in your busy schedule to make the meetings, you probably didn’t have time to read the minutes.”

  Taking a deep breath and counting to ten, he waited before responding. “Did you mention to his secretary that I was on my honeymoon?” he asked.

  “Yes, I did,” she replied. “And I also mentioned that this was the first vacation you had taken in the two years you have held the position.”

  Touched by her loyalty, Bradley felt an easing in his chest. “Thank you, Dorothy,” he said.

  “And I told her if the mayor wasn’t such a complete idiot, he would have been invited to the wedding and he would have known about it firsthand,” she finished.

  Bradley dropped his head into his hand. “You really didn’t say that, did you?” he asked.

  He heard her chuckle softly. “No, I didn’t,” she replied. “But it went through my mind.”

  His sigh of relief was audible. “Okay, well, is there any way you can get me a copy of those minutes?” he asked. “Or do I have to walk over to the mayor’s office and beg for them?”

  “They will be on your desk in ten minutes,” she replied defiantly.

  “Thanks, Dorothy,” he said, a slight smile forming on his lips. “Oh, and Dorothy…”

  “Yes?”

  “Try not to get us fired.”

  She laughed. “Yes, sir,” she replied.

  He hung up the phone, sat back in his chair and rubbed his temples, trying to ease the headache that had been growing steadily all day. He couldn’t believe the backlog on his desk from being away for only two weeks. The city, county and state reports alone were going to keep him working until at least ten o’clock tonight. Good thing he and Mary hadn’t planned anything special.

  The phone rang and he rolled his eyes before picking it up. “What now?” he asked, before announcing into the phone, “Chief Alden.”

  “Mary O’Reilly Alden,” Mary responded, a smile in her voice.

  The tension is his body eased and a real smile formed on his face. “Hi.”

  “Hi yourself, how’s your day going?”

  “Don’t ask,” he said.

  “That bad, huh?” she replied. “Well, will it make you feel better to know I’ve picked up some ribeye steaks for dinner tonight?”

  He groaned silently. “About dinner,” he said. “I’m going to have to take a raincheck on those ribeyes. I’m going to be here until late tonight.”

  “But it’s our first dinner together as a family,” she replied, disappointment evident in her voice.

  That’s strange, Bradley thought, she must have forgotten we ate dinner last night together.

  “No it’s not,” he said, trying to gently remind her. “We ate dinner last night as a family, remember?”

  “But, we had just gotten home,” she argued. “We hadn’t been together for the whole day.”

  Shaking his head, Bradley replied quickly. “But we aren’t going to be together for the whole day today either,” he said. “You and I are at work and Clarissa’s at school. So, really, it’s no big deal.”

  Mary’s heart dropped. She had wanted to create a special meal just for the three of them. A symbol that would set the pattern for their lives together. How could he not see that it was, indeed, a very big deal?

  “But Bradley,” she began and then she heard his other line ringing.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he interrupted her. “I’ve got to take this other call. Love you. See you later tonight.”

  He hung up the phone before she could respond.

  “Chief Alden,” he said, answering the other line and then he closed his eyes and grimaced as he heard the voice on the other end of the line. “Yes, sir, I would consider it a personal favor. Yes, I certainly won’t make a habit of missing the city council meetings. Thank you.”

  He hung up the phone and immediately turned to his computer, bringing up a new email and adding Mary’s address. He was just about to send her a quick note apologizing for missing their dinner and explaining about his day when the phone rang again. “Chief Alden,” he replied, and tucking the phone between his shoulder and his cheek, his fingers paused over the keyboard.

  He stopped typing and turned back to his desk, pulling a notepad across the desk. “How long has she been missing?” he asked, jotting notes down quickly. “What’s her address? Are both of her parents there? Okay, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  He pushed away from the desk, pulled on his jacket and hat, and hurried out of his office. “Dorothy,” he said as he passed his assistant in the hallway. “We’ve got a missing teen. I’m heading over to interview her parents.”

  Nodding, she waved the manila folder in her hand at him. “These will be waiting for you on your desk when you get back,” she said. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks,” he replied. “Let’s pray we can find this one.”

  Chapter Thirteen />
  On the bus ride home, Clarissa and Maggie sat silently for the first few minutes, neither girl wanting to break the silence first. Finally Maggie couldn’t stand it. “The man in the car was really bad,” she said. “There were ghosts in his car, ghosts that were crying and wanted to get out.”

  Clarissa felt a cold shiver move up her spine. “Like he took them?” she asked quietly.

  Maggie nodded. “Like he took them and they never went home,” she replied.

  Swallowing softly, Clarissa turned to Maggie. “He wanted to take us,” she said. “Didn’t he?”

  “I think so,” Maggie answered. “And I don’t think he was happy that we escaped. I bet he’s worried that we’re going to tell someone about him.”

  “We can’t,” Clarissa said, shaking her head excitedly. “Then for sure Mary and Bradley won’t want me.”

  Maggie plopped back against the seat and turned to Clarissa. “I can’t believe they wouldn’t want you,” she said. “They love you. They saved you from the bad man. They were looking for you.”

  “But now they want their own babies,” she argued. “Like Mrs. Gunderson said, no one wants me. I’m just trouble. And if we tell them, I’ll be even more trouble.”

  “We should tell Mike,” Maggie said. “If we can’t tell Mary and Bradley, Mike would be able to help us.”

  “But, remember what he said on the playground,” she said. “He can’t help us lie, so he’d have to tell them too. ’Sides, he told us we had to deal with our own consequences.”

  Sighing, Maggie thought about Clarissa’s words for a few moments. “He did say that,” she agreed. “But I don’t think he meant dangerous things.”

  “Maybe my dad can help,” Clarissa suggested.

  “Bradley?” Maggie asked hopefully.

  “No, my ’doptive dad,” she said. “He protected me from the bad man when he was alive. Maybe he can help us with this too.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Maggie said. “And maybe your dad isn’t there anymore. Maybe he passed over, just like your mom.”

  A tear slipped down Clarissa’s cheek and she brushed it away. “So, you think no one wants me?” she asked sadly. “You think everyone left me alone?”

  Her little heart breaking, Maggie shook her head and leaned over to her friend. “No. No, of course not,” she said. “But they knew you were in good hands. They knew Mary and Bradley were going to take care of you and love you. That’s why they could go.”

  Clarissa’s lower lip quivered with emotion and she took a deep shaky breath. “But they don’t want me,” she replied. “I tried and tried to do everything I thought they wanted, but all Bradley wants is a new baby.”

  “We could talk to my mom,” Maggie suggested. “She would know how to fix this.”

  “No,” Clarissa replied adamantly. “She’d just tell me I was silly. She’d tell Mary and Bradley and they would get angry. Please, Maggie, promise me you won’t tell her.”

  Sighing, Maggie nodded. “I won’t tell her,” she said. “But we’ve got to tell someone.”

  “That’s why we need to talk to my dad,” Clarissa explained. “He knows stuff.”

  “And if he tells us to talk to Mary and Bradley?” Maggie countered.

  Clarissa hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “If he says to talk to them, I will,” she agreed.

  Maggie sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, we can go and try to find him,” she agreed. “But we have to do it so we don’t get in trouble.”

  “How about next week?” Clarissa suggested. “We have a half-day on Tuesday. We could go then.”

  Nodding slowly as she thought about it, Maggie suddenly smiled. “You can tell Mary and Bradley that you’re coming to my house and I can tell my mom that I’m going to your house,” she said. “Then we can do whatever we want to do.”

  “Great!” Clarissa said. “I’ll tell them tonight.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “You’re not very good at this, are you?”

  “What?” Clarissa asked.

  “You don’t tell them until the day you want to go,” she replied. “That way they can’t check with each other.”

  “Oh,” Clarissa replied.

  “And you ask them when they are busy with something else, so they really aren’t paying attention to you,” Maggie added.

  “Does that really work for you?” Clarissa asked.

  Grinning, Maggie nodded. “All the time,” she said. “All the time.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mary arrived home only moments before the bus pulled up to the curb. She hurried to the front porch to greet Clarissa, worried about the way things had gone that morning. After waving to Maggie and her brothers as they exited the bus and walked toward their house, she turned to watch Clarissa slowly exit the bus, her head down, and walk toward the house.

  “Hello sweetheart,” Mary said. “How was school today?”

  “Fine,” Clarissa replied softly.

  “I picked up some wonderful things for dinner tonight,” she continued, trying to make conversation. “I thought it would be lovely to have a special dinner, just you and me.”

  Clarissa froze and looked up at her. “Bradley…I mean, Dad’s not coming home?” she asked.

  Mary shook her head, trying to keep the disappointment from her face. “No,” she said brightly. “He has to stay and do some extra work at the office. So, it’s just us girls. Won’t that be fun?”

  Sighing loudly, Clarissa nodded. “I have lots of homework,” she announced. “So, I won’t be in your way.”

  “Clarissa,” Mary replied, nearly dumbstruck by Clarissa’s remark. “You are never in my way. Never think that.”

  “Okay,” Clarissa replied meekly. “I won’t.”

  She scooted around Mary and made her way into the house. Hanging her coat in the closet, she turned to start up the stairs.

  “Don’t you want an afterschool treat?” Mary asked.

  Halting on the steps, Clarissa turned back. “You don’t have to bother,” she said.

  “Darling, it’s no bother,” Mary answered, moving into the kitchen and pulling the peanut butter and bread from the cabinet. “I could make you a sandwich with some milk. How does peanut butter and jelly sound?”

  Shaking her head, Clarissa started up the stairs again. “It’s okay, I can wait until dinner.”

  Mary watched her slowly walk up the stairs and waited until she heard the door close to Clarissa’s bedroom. She pulled out a piece of bread, slathered it liberally with peanut butter, folded it and took a big bite. “So much for happily ever after,” she muttered.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t understand you,” Mike said from behind her. “Your mouth was full.”

  Startled, Mary jumped and then turned on her friend. “I feel like I’ve walked away from my life and into an episode of the Twilight Zone,” she said, taking her frustration out on the sandwich with an angry bite.

  “Wow. Remind me to never get close to your choppers when you’re angry,” he teased.

  “It’s just that…” she started. “It’s just that…”

  Suddenly, tears began to flow down her cheeks and she felt overwhelmed. She sank down into the nearest chair, next to the table, and laid her head in her arms and cried.

  “Hey, now, it can’t be that bad,” Mike said, floating over next to her.

  “It is,” she said, her voice muffled by her arms. “It’s terrible.”

  “What’s terrible?” he asked.

  “Bradley can’t be home for dinner,” she muttered through the peanut butter.

  Mike leaned closer to hear her. “Bradley can’t be a humdinger?” Mike asked. “Well, babe, not everyone can be like me.”

  She shook her head, “No, he’s not coming home,” she said emphatically.

  “What? When did this happen?” he exclaimed. “What the…heck? Is he abandoning you and Clarissa?”

  Lifting her head, Mary reached for a tissue, bl
ew her nose and wiped her eyes. “No, he’s not abandoning us,” she said. “He can’t make it home for dinner.”

  Mike exhaled in relief. “Well, if that’s all,” he began.

  “All?” Mary exclaimed, slapping her hands against the table. “Is that all? On our first night together as a family, for our first real family meal, he decides to work late.”

  Mike nodded and sat in a seat across from Mary. “What an idiot,” he said, agreeing with Mary. “I mean, really, what’s so important about his job that he can’t come home for dinner? Before you were married he never had to cancel. Oh, no, he’s just doing this to make you angry.”

  She started to agree, but snapped her mouth closed for a moment. “Okay, yes, his job has always made him late for dinner,” she confessed.

  “Well, yes, maybe,” Mike said. “But if he really wanted to be here, he’d be here.”

  Once again, she tried to agree with him, and then shook her head. “No, I could tell, even though he was distracted, he wanted to be here.”

  “Well, yes, but…” Mike began.

  “Mike,” Mary interrupted, a wry smile on her face.

  “Yes, Mary,” he replied with a grin.

  “I get your point. You can stop now.”

  “See I told everyone you weren’t slow,” he chuckled.

  She sat back against the kitchen chair and sighed. “It’s just…it’s just,” she started.

  “It’s just not how you pictured it,” Mike inserted.

  She turned to him and nodded emphatically. “Yes. Yes, that’s it exactly,” she agreed. “It’s not how I pictured it.”

  “So, what are you going to do about it?” he asked.

  “Change the picture I guess,” she decided. “Dinner together is great, but maybe breakfast would be more realistic.”

  “That’s my girl,” he replied.

  She nodded and smiled. “I mean, really, there’s no reason to miss breakfast.”

  “It’s the most important meal of the day,” Mike agreed.

  “Thanks, Mike. Now everything is going to be perfect.”

 

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