by Terri Reid
Bradley stood up. “Are you crazy?” he asked. “Do you think I’m going to let you become fresh bait for a killer?”
Mary stood too and faced Bradley from across the room. She kept her voice calm and low. “No, I think you will treat me like the professional law enforcement officer you know I am,” she said, “And that you will have confidence in my abilities to investigate a murder and interrogate witnesses.”
“And Ian?” Bradley asked. “Why is Ian the choice for your partner?”
“Because, quite frankly, you’d scare everyone away,” she replied. “And because Ian can not only hypnotize Jeannine, he can also see ghosts. So, if this friendly neighbor is also a serial killer, Ian can help me locate any other lost souls.”
Bradley ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t like this,” he said. “I don’t like this one damn bit.”
“I know,” Mary said. “I know it’s going to be hard for you, because you’re going to have to be the behind-the-scenes person. And you’re going to have to trust me.”
He froze in his steps, then turned and met her eyes. “This has nothing to do with trust.”
She met his eyes, unblinking. “This has everything to do with trust.”
“May I just interject here?” Ian asked, breaking the tension in the room.
Bradley turned his glare on Ian. “What?”
“Although I don’t have the years of experience you have in law enforcement, I have trained with Scotland Yard and I’m quite proficient in martial arts,” he explained.
“How proficient?” Bradley asked.
“Sandan Black Belt,” Ian responded.
“Third level, black belt,” Bradley said, nodding with approval. “So, you’re about as good as Mary.”
Ian’s eyes widened. “Well, it looks like I’ll not have to worry about my safety either,” he said with a grin.
Bradley cleared his throat. “Back to the matter at hand. Mary, how soon would you want to start?”
“How soon can you have the house ready for occupation?” she asked.
“Give me a day to make arrangements. How about Tuesday?”
“Okay, let’s start Tuesday, if that’s fine with you, Ian.”
“Aye, I’m game,” he said. “I’ve some gear that was going to be shipped here, if you’ll give me the address, I’ll have it shipped there.”
Jeannine smiled. “This sounds like it’s going to work.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, Jeannine, I think it will.”
Chapter Nine
“Why in tarnation was I asked to get here at the butt crack of dawn, when no one seems to care if I’m here or not?” Stanley Wagner asked, standing in the front doorway of Mary’s house Tuesday morning.
“Stanley, you’re letting all of Mary’s heat out,” Rosie Pettigrew said. “Do come in and shut the door behind you.”
Stanley grumbled to himself and moved inside, closing the door with a bang. “There, are you happy now?”
Rosie smiled sweetly. “Why, yes I am Stanley, thank you for asking.”
Stanley rolled his eyes and walked through the living room and stood alongside the staircase. “Mary, you come down and explain yourself,” he called up the stairs.
Stanley Wagner was the fifth generation owner of Wagner Office Supplies in downtown Freeport. And although the sixth generation was now running the store, Stanley still arrived early every day to greet the customers and make sure his children, now in their forties and fifties, were doing an acceptable job. He and Mary had become good friends when she moved to Freeport and now he considered her to be his responsibility, no matter what she said to the contrary.
“Stanley?” Mary called. “Is that you?”
“Darn tootin’ it’s me, missy,” he said, pulling up on the waistband of his trousers. “And let me tell you, you’ve got some explaining to do.”
“Now Stanley,” Rosie said, moving around him to stand at the base of the stairs. “Mary is a grown woman; she doesn’t really have to explain her actions to anyone.”
Rosie Pettigrew was a successful real estate broker in her early sixties who also worked in downtown Freeport. She had been through about as many husbands as careers, and had been enjoying a flirty single life until just recently. Somehow Stanley’s curmudgeonly personality snuck its way into her heart and her silly, prattling ways had done the same to his. But they were both desperately trying to ignore their new feelings, for fear if they acted on them they would destroy the friendship they both cherished.
Just then Ian jogged down the stairs, his arms filled with several suitcases. “Do you ken why women need ten times more clothes then men for the same time away?” he asked Stanley and Rosie.
Rosie looked at Ian and sighed. “And sometimes it’s completely obvious why a woman would choose to do some things.”
Stanley scooted around Rosie to block Ian’s way. “And where do you think you’re taking those suitcases?” he asked, his hands on his hips.
Ian stopped in his tracks and tilted his head in confusion. “Why to the boot of the car,” he said. “The rental car, not the Roadster. I understand I’d be taking me own life in me hands to let her drive.”
“I heard that,” Mary called down the stairs.
“Auch, now you’ve done it,” Ian said with a grin. “Here we are not married for more than a day and I’m already in the dog house.”
“You’re married?” Rosie gasped.
“Why would I be carrying her suitcases out of the house if we weren’t?” he replied
“Young lady, you come down these stairs now,” Stanley called. “Or I’m coming up after you.”
Mary quickly jogged down the stairs, a pair of shoes in each hand. “Rosie, if you can only bring a few pairs of shoes, because some people from foreign countries who shall remain nameless, don’t understand fashion, which would you choose? Heels or flats?”
“Well, darling, flats are more convenient, but heels are sexier,” Rosie replied.
“She’s bringing flats,” Bradley called from the open front door.
Mary smiled. “Guess that answers that,” she said. “I’m bringing heels.”
“Would someone mind telling me what’s going on and why I was asked to come here?” Stanley shouted above the clamor.
Mary paused on her way back up the stairs. “Oh, you were asked to come by?” she asked.
Rosie nodded. “Yes, Bradley called us up last night and asked us to come by this morning,” she said. “Mary, I had no idea you had gotten married. I would have thought that you would have at least invited us to the ceremony.”
Mary looked over their heads at Bradley who was standing behind them. “Would you care to explain to them?” she asked. “Since you did invite them to come over.”
Bradley tugged at his collar for a moment and then looked at the two senior citizens. “Well, Mary and Ian are not really married,” he said. “They are posing as a married couple to help me investigate a crime.”
“Oh, well then,” Rosie said. “I understand why we weren’t invited. That’s quite alright, Mary dear. I’m sure there’s different etiquette involved when the weddings aren’t real.”
“There was no wedding,” Stanley explained. “This is all pretend. It’s a farce.”
Rosie looked over at Ian and then back at Mary. “Really, this is all pretend?” she asked.
“We’re just playing house,” Ian said with a wink.
Rosie giggled. “If I were Mary, I think I’d prefer playing Post Office with you.”
Ian looked confused and Mary laughed. “It’s an American kissing game,” she explained.
“Ah, we call it Spin the Bottle,” he said.
“Oh, we play that game too,” Rosie said.
“And how many different kissing games do you play here in the States?” Ian asked.
“Could we just get back to the business at hand?” Bradley asked.
“Of course, dear,” Rosie said. “Ian, I can tell you about more kissing games later.”
Bradley groaned. “The reason I asked Rosie and Stanley to come over is because I want them to aid in this investigation,” Bradley announced. “I want them to go undercover with you.”
There was a moment of silence and then the room was filled with an uproar of conversation.
“Really, dear, I don’t think both Mary and I could both be married to Ian,” Rosie said. “I think that’s against the law.”
“Rosie can’t go undercover,” Stanley shouted. “It’s too dangerous. What are you thinking Alden?”
“Statistically speaking, the more people you bring in, the more likely the cover will be blown,” Ian said.
“Well, I don’t give a damn about statistics,” Stanley countered. “I know that I can keep a secret.”
“Oh, begging your pardon,” Ian replied. “I didn’t mean you couldn’t.”
Mary leaned against the railing and ignored the noise; she looked directly at Bradley, a question in her eyes. He shrugged a little sheepishly and shook his head. She tossed her head, indicating behind her, turned and quietly walked back up the stairs to her bedroom. A moment later Bradley joined her, closing the door and shutting out the noise from downstairs.
Mary turned, folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the wall. “Well?”
He sighed. “I thought if Rosie and Stanley poised as your visiting grandparents it would be safer.”
“You weren’t worried about Ian and me sharing the house?”
He shook his head, his eyes widening in understanding. “Oh, well, of course you would have thought that,” he said. “I haven’t been exactly trusting lately, have I?”
Mary nodded slightly, not saying a word.
He moved towards her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “No, I’m not worried about you and Ian. I’m worried about you. Mary, I…”
He stopped and turned his head to the side for a moment.
Mary could see he was struggling to control his emotions.
“Bradley?”
He turned back, his eyes determined and his gaze pointed. “Mary, this killer you are going after came into my house and took my wife, in broad daylight. He has been able to evade police for over eight years. He was cruel and he was sick. And now, now I’m supposed to send you into those same conditions and hope, no, pray that we are smarter this time?”
He turned away from her, ran his hand through his hair and finally turned back again. “I can’t lose you too,” he whispered, his voice breaking.
Although outwardly she looked calm, Mary’s heart was pounding. After he found out about Jeannine, Mary was sure her relationship with Bradley had been altered. Love doesn’t grow where there isn’t trust. Love couldn’t grow when someone thought they’d been deceived.
Sighing, she shook her head. He just needed reassurance that he wasn’t putting her in a dangerous situation without her full knowledge of the circumstance, she reasoned. He just needed to realize that she and Ian could do this.
“I know this is not easy for you,” she said. “I know you want to protect me, us, because that’s who you are and that’s what you do. But, this time, you can’t. This time the only way to catch this killer is for you to stay in the background.”
“I know,” he said, slowing moving towards her. “But what you don’t seem to understand is this is not just about protecting you.”
She shook her head and he could see that she really didn’t comprehend what he’d been trying to say. He stopped in front of her, cupped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. “You are my heart, Mary O’Reilly,” he whispered. “I can’t live without you.”
He bent his head and placed soft kisses her on her forehead, eyelids and along her jawline. The sweetness of the gesture and the tenderness of the kisses undid her. She trembled in his arms. “Bradley,” she moaned, sliding her arms over his shoulders and threading her fingers through his hair.
He gathered her up in his arms. “Sweet, sweet Mary,” he said hoarsely and bent his head to crush her lips in a heart-stealing kiss.
The world disappeared. All she was aware of was Bradley; his touch, his scent and the strength of his arms around her. She wanted the kiss to last forever. She moved even closer, pouring her heart into her response. He held her tighter, deepening the kiss. But after a few minutes, she felt his arms loosen as he slowly lifted his lips from hers.
“I know you need time,” he said, breathlessly, “I’m not going to press you.”
He stared down at her face, memorizing her swollen lips, her love-glazed eyes and flushed skin. Placing a final soft kiss on her lips, he stepped away, his hands sliding down her arms to her hands.
He lifted her hand to his lips, turned it and pressed a lingering kiss to her palm. “I love you,” he whispered. “I know I’ve been a number one jackass lately, but I never stopped loving you.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond; he simply released her hands, turned and let himself out of the room.
Mary slid down to the carpet and just stared at the closed door, running a hand over her swollen lips.
“Well, damn, girl,” Mike said, appearing next to her. “If your heart isn’t melting like chocolate in the sunshine, you aren’t human.”
“Shut up, Mike,” Mary said, still staring at the door.
“What a man,” Mike said.
Mary closed her eyes, nodded and sighed. “Oh, yeah, what a man.”
Chapter Ten
“And so, when Bradley heard Earl walking back down the stairs, and saw no one, and then the basement door opened and closed by itself what did the poor man do?” Ian asked, as he changed lanes on Highway 39 on their way to Sycamore.
Mary laughed as she recalled the first time Bradley had seen a ghost in her home. “He finally let his gun fall to his side and told me there were no such things as ghosts.”
Ian chuckled. “And what did you say to that?”
She shrugged. “I said, ‘Oh, I keep forgetting’ and then told him I was going back to bed and he could clean up the cookie jar.”
“Ach, the poor, poor man,” Ian said, without a shred of sympathy in his voice. “I remember the first time me poor fiancee, Gillian, spied a ghost. I was staying at Edinburgh Castle, doing research. It was into the evening and she thought she’d surprise me with a bit of supper. She was walking down one of the halls, almost to my room, and passed a lady who was dressed in late 17th Century clothing. At first she just thought it was one of the guides, but after she passed, she realized that she could see through the lady. She felt a cold chill up her spine and turned quickly, but there was no one else in the hall now.”
“Oh, poor Gillian,” Mary said. “I’m sure she was frightened.”
“Aye, our ghosties in Scotland tend to be a bit more gruesome than those here in the States,” he said. “On closer reflection, Gillian recalled the woman had a darkening around her neck, where she’d been hanged.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“No, actually, it was quite nice,” Ian admitted with a grin. “She had a bit more respect for the daft work she’d always thought I’d done and she was quite adamant about staying very close to me for the remainder of the night. I owe that bonnie ghostie a boon I’ll never be able to repay. We became engaged on that very night.”
“I so love a happy ending,” Mary said.
Ian sighed. “Aye, so do I.”
The GPS reminded them to exit and within ten minutes they found themselves pulling into the driveway of Bradley’s home. Waiting on the front porch was a large assortment of boxes in varying shapes and sizes.
“Oh, good, they’ve arrived,” Ian said, as he exited the car.
“What is all that?” Mary asked, looking at the pile of at least twenty boxes.
“Well, half of the boxes contain equipment I use when I study paranormal activity,” he explained, as they pulled several suitcases out of the back of the car. “The other half is filled with my exercise equipment.”
“You sent your exercise eq
uipment all the way from Scotland?” she asked.
“Oh, no, I actually found a company in Chicago that would rent equipment while I was here,” he said. “And since the delivery was made by the University, it wasn’t a problem to have them bring it here, rather than Freeport.”
Mary pulled the key from her purse and unlocked the door.
“So, what kind of equipment?” she asked.
“Well, mostly free weights,” he said.
“Are you willing to share?”
He laughed. “Aye, I’d be happy to let you at them too.”
It took them about an hour to unload the car and then to carry Ian’s equipment into the house. Mary finally closed the door and leaned back against it, puffing from exertion, “That was harder than a work-out,” she panted.
“Aye,” Ian agreed, resting his hands on his knees. “I told you not to bring so many clothes.”
“Funny,” she replied, wiping her brow with her sleeve. “What’s next?”
“I think the next best step is to set up some of the equipment,” Ian suggested.
“You want to exercise now?”
“No, the other equipment,” Ian said. “I’ve cameras and infrared detectors that can not only pick up ghosts, but also any other kind of intruder we may encounter over the next little while.”
