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Final Call - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book 4)

Page 11

by Terri Reid


  “No, you made me cry by being a caring big brother,” she said. “Thank you. It’s kind of been an emotional couple of days.”

  “You need to find someone else,” Sean said. “Show him that he can’t push an O’Reilly around.”

  “Well, the difficult part is that I’m still in love with the idiot.”

  Sean sighed. “Yeah, that can be a problem.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get over it,” she said. “Besides, I’ve got a couple of ghosts to keep me busy.”

  “Where would you be if not for your ghosts?” he asked.

  “Living in Chicago and bugging you,” she replied quickly.

  “Thank goodness for ghosts,” he teased. “That reminds me...”

  She could hear him shuffling some paperwork around.

  “Why are you at the office so late?” she asked.

  “Just finishing some things up,” he said. “I’m taking tomorrow off. Pop and I are surprising Mom with a new washer and dryer, we have to get it set up while she’s at work.”

  “Hey, it’s not Valentine’s Day. Why such a romantic gift?” she teased.

  He was quiet for a moment. “Well, remember the case I was working on last week,” he finally said.

  “Yeah, where you thought there was forensic evidence in the peanut oil from the fryer.”

  “So, Dad and I thought...”

  Mary giggled.

  “I haven’t even told you, what are you laughing for?” he asked.

  “Any sentence that starts with ‘Dad and I thought’ is bound to be funny,” she replied.

  “So, Dad and I thought if we could separate the oil from the parts, we could get the lab to run tests on them.”

  “Don’t they have special machines to do that?”

  “Yeah, well, it was broken and with budget cuts and all, it wasn’t on the schedule to get repaired for six months,” he said. “So, we figured the spin cycle on Mom’s washer...”

  “You put peanut oil and dead body parts in Mom’s washer?”

  He sighed, long and loud. “Yeah, she wasn’t too thrilled about it either.”

  “So, are you grounded?” she laughed.

  “Yeah, until I’m forty-two,” he responded. “Oh, hey, here’s what I was looking for. We’ve got this thing, a partnership, with the University of Chicago.”

  “Wow, good school,” she said.

  “Yeah, they’ve been doing some special research through the department, we supply them with raw data and they share the analysis with us,” he said. “It’s been a really good deal. Anyway, they, the University, also have a relationship with the University of Edinburgh. Like sister colleges.”

  “Okay,” Mary said. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I’m getting to it,” he replied. “Just be patient. So, the University of Edinburgh has this fellow who just happens to be a Fellow, you know, someone who does special research for the university.”

  “Yes, I know what a Fellow does.”

  “And this Fellow is coming to the University of Chicago to work with them on a study of Criminology,” he said.

  “Interesting.”

  “With an emphasis on Paranormal Phenomena and Criminalistics,” he stated pointedly.

  “Okay, even more interesting.”

  “So, the University of Chicago called the Police Superintendent and he called my boss and my boss called me. And this Fellow is assigned to my department for six weeks. And I think it would be interesting for him to work with you for a great deal of that time.”

  “So, you want me to babysit some Professor from Scotland?”

  “Exactly,” Sean said. “I have too many cases and, really, you deal with more paranormal activity in one day than we have in years. Besides, I’d have to hire you as a consultant and pay you the going fee.”

  Mary smiled. “Now you’re talking! So, when is this kindly professor from the University supposed to show up?”

  “In a couple of weeks,” he said. “So, we can talk about it later, when it gets closer. You willing to do it?”

  “Yeah, but, he’ll probably have to stay at my place because most of the action is here,” she said. “Should I put together a bedroom on the first floor, or do you think he can get up and down stairs?”

  “I think he can make it up the stairs, Mary,” he said. “But make sure the railings are nice and secure so he can pull himself up.”

  “Okay, you’ve got a deal,” she said. “And thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For keeping my mind off Bradley for a little while.”

  “Don’t worry,” Sean replied. “I have a feeling things will work out fine in the end. Just trust your big brother.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Bradley looked over at the clock and shook his head. It was nearly four o’clock; he really needed to get a little sleep before he went into the office. He closed the file and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t find anything that pointed to a murderer. He’d gone over everything with a fine-toothed comb and there were no clues, no eyewitnesses and no suspects. People just didn’t disappear without someone seeing something.

  “Mary already has some clues that might help us.”

  He heard Jeannine’s voice in his mind. “How the hell does Mary get clues in one afternoon when I searched for eight damn years?” he growled.

  “Jealous?”

  He turned, but even before he saw her, he knew that voice, had dreamt about that voice. “Jeannine?”

  She was standing in the middle of the room, her arms clasped together, watching him. He stood up and took a step closer. “How can I see you without Mary?”

  “Bradley, we’re connected,” she said sadly. “You could have seen me without Mary long ago if you were willing to look.”

  “I wanted to find you,” he insisted.

  “You wanted to find me alive,” she replied. “You didn’t even want to consider the fact that I might be dead.”

  He walked to her. “I didn’t want to fail you,” he said. “I was a cop; I was supposed to protect you.”

  She sighed. “You did all you could do,” she said. “Did you think I wanted you to throw away your life for me?”

  He lifted his hand and tried to touch her, but it went through her. “I want to touch you,” he whispered. “I want to hold you again.”

  She smiled and held out her hand. “Come to bed, Bradley,” she said. “You can hold me in your dreams.”

  He followed her into his bedroom. Her body glowed in the darkness of the room. “Lie down, Bradley,” she said. “Lie down and sleep. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  He climbed onto his bed, fully dressed, and stretched out on top of the blankets. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

  The house was sunny and bright. That was one of the things they loved about it when they first saw it, the southern exposure and the big windows. He walked down the hallway, looking for her. “Jeannine, honey, I’m home,” he called.

  “I’m in the kitchen,” she responded. “I really need your help.”

  He rushed down the hall into the kitchen. Jeannine was standing at the sink, her hands at her hips, looking down at a turkey in disgust. “Do you realize where you’re supposed to put the stuffing?” she asked. “Up it’s...”

  “Yes, I know,” he interrupted with a laugh. “Haven’t you ever stuffed a turkey before?”

  She glared at him. “No, remember, you married me for my looks, not my cooking skill,” she said. “Good thing, because I’m not putting my hand up there.”

  He hugged her. “It’s okay,” he said, breathing in her familiar scent. “If we want a turkey dinner, I can make it or we can order in.”

  She rested her head against his shoulder. “I was trying to be domestic,” she admitted. “I didn’t think cooking would be that hard. It looks easy on T.V.”

  He swallowed back the laughter and stroked her back. “Hon, you don’t have to prove anything to me,” he said. “You’re perfect just the
way you are.”

  “Yes, but what will the baby think when we eat Thanksgiving Dinner at McDonalds?”

  He froze. Taking a step away from her, he searched her eyes. “The baby?” he said slowly.

  She smiled up at him. “The baby. Our baby. The test results were positive.”

  “Jeannine!”

  He picked her up, swung her in a circle and held her in his arms, suspended above the ground. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s the best news...”

  She grinned down at him. “So, I take it you’re okay with the news.”

  He let her slowly slide down his body and finally covered her mouth with his. He held her and poured all of his love for her into the kiss. A few minutes later he loosened his hold.

  “Well,” she purred. “If we already weren’t pregnant, I could guarantee that we would be in the next few minutes.”

  He grinned at her, anxious to get her off her feet, when a thought occurred to him. “Are you supposed to...I mean, can you still have...”

  “I am perfectly healthy, although my hormones are acting a little funny,” she said. “I seem to have a voracious appetite for a certain activity.”

  She reached up and nipped his ear lobe. “Quite voracious.”

  Bradley scooped her up in his arms. “Never let it be said that I allowed my pregnant wife to go hungry,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck. “If nothing else, I’m an excellent provider.”

  She laughed and threw her arms around him. “Take me upstairs and provide already.”

  He carried her up the stairs and into their bedroom. He carefully sat her on the edge of the bed and bent down in front of her. He slipped one shoe off her foot and massaged it, moving up from the heel to the ankle and finally to the calf. Then he repeated it with the other foot.

  “Oh, Bradley, that feels so good,” she moaned.

  He leaned over and kissed her mouth again. “Just getting you ready for the main event,” he promised.

  He started to unbutton her blouse when the door opened behind him.

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Bradley turned to see Mary standing at the bedroom door. “Mary, what are you doing here?” he asked.

  Looking around the bedroom, she shook her head and shrugged, “I haven’t the foggiest notion. But this is your dream, so you tell me.”

  Bradley sat up in his bed. Light was streaming through the windows, so he knew it must have been after seven o’clock. He placed his head in his hands. “I’m going out of my mind.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Her office had just begun to warm up, so Mary decided to turn down the portable heater she kept under her desk for mornings like this. Although Alber’s Towing had returned the Roadster to her driveway, she was still more comfortable walking to work when the roads were so snow packed. So a toasty heater at her feet had been just the thing.

  Of course, as soon as she bent underneath her desk, the phone rang. Mary had learned that fate had a really bad sense of humor.

  She blindly reached around the desktop for the phone. As the phone rang for the third time, she was able to grab the handset and bring it to her ear. “O’Reilly Investigations,” Mary said, trying to not to drop the phone as she got out from under the desk. “How can I help you?”

  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let Faye McMullen rest in peace.”

  The phone went dead.

  Mary checked the caller I.D. and saw it was hidden. She knew the call was too brief for a trace, but she had too many years as a cop to not at least report the incident. Taking a deep breath, she called the last person she wanted to speak to that morning.

  “Alden,” Bradley answered his phone.

  She was silent for a moment, hurt and anger stealing her voice.

  “Hello?” Bradley asked.

  “Bradley, this is Mary,” she said, shortly. “I just wanted to officially report I received a threatening call regarding the McMullen case. The call was too short for a trace and there was no caller I.D. left on my phone. I didn’t recognize the voice, although it did sound male. I don’t feel threatened, I just wanted to follow procedures and report the incident. Do you have any questions?”

  She heard him sigh. “Yes, I do,” he said slowly, “Lots of questions. Can I come over to your office?”

  Mary felt her stomach tighten. She really did not want to do this again, she had work to do. “I’m really quite busy, Bradley,” she said. “Perhaps you could send me an e-mail with all of your questions.”

  “Please?”

  Crap.

  “Fine, I’d be happy to meet with you,” she said with forced politeness as she flipped open her calendar. “What time would be convenient for you?”

  “I’ll be over in five minutes,” he said, then hung up so she couldn’t disagree.

  “Well, thanks so much for making sure you fit into my schedule,” Mary said yelled into the dead connection. “No, really, it’s my pleasure. Why don’t I save you the trouble and beat myself up for you.”

  “You okay, girlie?” Stanley asked, poking his head around the door. “I thought I heard you yelling at someone.”

  “Stanley, your store’s next door, but there are two thick brick walls between us, how could you hear me?”

  “Well, I couldn’t have if I’d been in my store,” he said with an unrepentant grin. “But I was worried about you, so I’ve been standing right outside your door.”

  “Well, that makes sense,” Mary replied dryly. “Stanley, I’m a big girl now, I can take care of myself.”

  He let himself in and sat in the chair on the other side of her desk. “Well, of course I know that,” he said. “But, you know, we old coots like to feel needed, so we nose our way into other folks business.”

  “You’re not an old coot.”

  “So, tell Stanley what’s got your eyes so sad.”

  “I had to let Bradley know that his wife, Jeannine, isn’t alive anymore,” she said. “I showed him her ghost.”

  “Well, that must have been a relief for him,” he said, “Now he can have some closure and move on.”

  Mary shook her head. “No, it’s not that easy,” she explained. “Jeannine was murdered and I’ve known since Christmas.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him then?”

  “Because she told me not to, she didn’t think he was ready.”

  “And now?”

  “Well, I kind of forced the issue because I didn’t like keeping it from him anymore.”

  “Yeah, that sounds just like you,” he said, “Too honest for your own good. And how did Bradley take it?”

  Tears formed in her eyes and she brushed them away. “About as I’d expected,” she said.

  “So, our Police Chief ain’t as smart as I thought.”

  “He’s smart,” she replied. “He’s just hurt and confused.”

  “Yep, so he comes out attacking the people who love him and care for him. That makes sense.”

  “It’s his wife, Stanley.”

  Stanley stood up and leaned over the desk. “Little girl, if you gave me the chance to see my sweet wife one more time, I’d be singing your praises, not condemning you. The man’s a fool.”

  The bell over the door rang and Bradley stepped inside. Stanley looked over his shoulder and shook his head.

  “Well, speak of the devil,” he muttered. “Course the devil would be a might more welcome in my opinion.”

  “Stanley, behave,” Mary whispered.

  “Hello Stanley,” Bradley said. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine, just fine,” Stanley said, getting up and walking to the door. “Least I still got some common sense.”

  Stanley turned back to Mary. “See that you take care of yourself, hear?”

  She smiled and winked, “Thanks, you old coot.”

  Bradley waited until Stanley was out the door before taking the chair he’d vacated. “So, what was that all about?” he asked.

  Mary shrugged. “He’s just
looking out for me,” she replied coolly, as she pasted on a professional smile and folded her hands together on top of her desk. “And what can I do for you today, Chief?”

  Bradley sat back in the chair. “Okay, I deserve that,” he said. “Obviously there is some tension between us and I might have let my emotions get in the way of my job.”

  Mary sat still, listening to him. Her stomach was churning and she felt like she was going to be sick.

  “You aren’t going to say anything?” he asked.

  “Well, agreeing with you would be rude,” she replied. “And, contrary to popular belief, I don’t tell lies.”

  He leaned toward her. “Mary, this isn’t easy for me.”

  Mary pushed her chair back and stood up. “Well then, Bradley, let me make it easy,” she said. “You and I have to work together. We not only have to solve Faye’s murder, we also have to try and figure out what happened to Jeannine.”

  He started to say something, but she raised her hand to stop him.

  “I am not working for you,” she said clearly, “I’m working for Jeannine; she is my client. So, you have no say in the matter. And, if you don’t want to work with me, that’s fine, I’ll do it on my own and I’ll share any information I find.”

  She leaned over; her hands braced on the desk and faced him squarely. “However, I really can’t handle the emotional drama of dealing with you on a personal basis. So, if you don’t mind, let’s go back to being professionals and nothing else.”

  Bradley sat back in the chair, amazed by the intensity in her voice. “Mary, I realize that perhaps you didn’t mean to lie,” he said. “And I’m sure that eventually we can be friends again.”

  She nearly screamed, instead she took a deep breath. “No, you don’t understand,” she explained slowly. “I have to do this for me. Cops are supposed to trust each other. Cops are always supposed to know their partner has their back. Without that trust, you can’t do your job. Without that trust, you’ve got nothing.”

  She looked directly at him. “Bradley, we don’t have that trust,” she said. “Maybe because emotions got in the way, I don’t know. But, we don’t have that kind of trust.”

  “So, we have nothing,” he repeated.

 

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