Darkness Exposed - a Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery

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Darkness Exposed - a Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Page 6

by Terri Reid


  “Well, that’s brilliant,” Mary said. “How many cameras do you have?”

  “Well, enough for Edinburgh Castle, so more than enough to place all around this house,” he said. “They’re wireless, so we just have to set them up and route them to our network.”

  “So, we can access them from our laptops?”

  “And I can send a link to Bradley,” he said with a grin. “So, while he lying awake at night, worrying about you, he’ll have something to watch.”

  “That’ll ease his mind a little.”

  “Aye, but only a little.”

  They worked together, setting up cameras throughout the house. Nearly every square inch was covered, except the bathrooms. Mary insisted she have at least a little privacy there. “There is no way someone will make it past all of these other cameras and only been seen in the bathroom,” she argued. “Besides, I’m going to already feel like big brother is watching all the time.”

  “Oh, so Sean’s told you he’s to have a link in here too?” Ian teased.

  She shook her head. “No, but I’m not surprised. When am I not going to be the baby sister?”

  “Never,” Ian said simply. “And it has nothing to do with your ability to take care of yourself and everything to do with their need to protect you.”

  Mary climbed down from the ladder she’d been perched upon and put her tools in Ian’s toolbox. “I know,” she sighed. “Men!”

  Ian laughed and tried to sigh as fully. “Women!”

  He walked over to his laptop and tested the cameras. “All fully functional and reporting,” he said. “Now what’s the next step?”

  Mary picked up one of the boxes and started towards the kitchen. “I’ll start getting the kitchen put together and you call for pizza,” she said.

  “That’s a cunning plan,” Ian said. “But why even get the kitchen put together. I’m fine with take-out.”

  Mary shot him a look over her shoulder. “Because Rosie and Stanley are coming tomorrow and Rosie cooks like a virtuoso.”

  “Ahhh, I wonder if she can make Haggis?” Ian joked.

  “Don’t tease her about it,” Mary warned, “because she’ll take you seriously and we will be eating Haggis for the rest of the time we’re here.”

  Ian lifted his hands in surrender. “Thanks for the warning,” he said. “I’ll not be bringing it up.”

  Several hours later, with the house mostly put in order and the empty pizza box in the trash, Mary and Ian sat at the dining room table connected to Bradley via video chat.

  “Any visitors today?” he asked.

  Mary shook her head. “No, no one stopped by, which was probably a good thing because we got the cameras up and the house put in order.”

  “I hope they’re just giving you a day to get settled,” Bradley said. “The neighborhood tends to be quieter in the winter. People are not out and about as much.”

  “Do you have a list of people you’d like us to speak with?” Ian asked. “Anyone you’ve always had a feeling about, but could never confirm it?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” he said. “I’ll e-mail you both the list and a little background on each of the families.”

  “Do you want us to touch base with your old Chief of Police, now that we’re here?” Mary asked.

  Bradley shook his head. “No, because whoever did this knew me and Jeannine,” he said. “I hate to think that is was one of the guys on the force, but we can’t be sure.”

  “It’s tough having to consider everyone a suspect,” Mary said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “But make sure you do. I don’t want you to take any chances.”

  At that moment, the doorbell rang and Ian got up to answer the door.

  “I’m not sure who that is yet,” Mary said, “But I’m going to turn the laptop so whoever it is doesn’t know you’re chatting with us, okay?”

  “Good idea,” Bradley responded.

  “I’ll mute the sound too,” she said, “in case your phone rings.”

  She made the adjustments just as Ian came back in the room, leading a tall man with dark-hair that was graying on the edges.

  “Mary, darling, this is Gary Copper,” Ian said. “Actually, Dr. Gary Copper, a dentist and a friend of Bradley and Jeannine.”

  Mary quickly got up from the table and met him halfway, so he wouldn’t see the computer screen. “Gary Copper?” Mary asked with a little smile.

  The man smiled and bowed his head nervously. “Yeah, I know, not Gary Cooper,” he said, and then he flushed. “Well, I guess you know that I’m not, well, you know. I’m not…”

  “Gary Cooper,” Mary finished for him.

  He face turned red. “Yeah, that.”

  Mary smiled and extended her hand. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Dr. Copper.”

  He took hold of her fingers and squeezed quickly, then let go. “You can call me Gary,” he said.

  “And I’m Mary,” she said. “Do you live in the neighborhood?”

  He nodded, but had a hard time meeting her eyes. “Yes, our properties actually touch lines on the east side of the back of your lot,” he said. “Jeannine used to call us kitty-corner neighbors.”

  “Well, neighbor, come in and make yourself comfortable,” she said, guiding them into the chairs in the living room.

  She offered Gary a chair that was facing one of the concealed cameras and she sat across from him on the love seat.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet a new neighbor,” Ian added, following them and sitting on the arm of the love seat. “As you know, we’re brand new here.”

  “Yes. I mean, I know. I mean, that’s why I came by, actually,” he stammered. “I knew the Aldens owned this place, Bradley and Jeannine. I saw the lights, from my kitchen. I wondered, you know, who you were. Why you were here. Because I didn’t think Bradley wanted to ever sell his house.”

  Mary shook her head. “Oh, no, they still own it,” she said. “Bradley is letting us rent it from him for a while. We’re newlyweds and still haven’t quite got ourselves situated.”

  “Oh,” he said, looking around nervously. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here. I mean, newlyweds, company is the last thing you’d want.”

  Ian moved onto the love seat, put his arm around Mary’s shoulders and drew her close. “I have to tell you, with a wife like Mary, I plan on being a newlywed ‘til my dying day.”

  Mary leaned her head on Ian’s shoulder. “Now that was sweet,” she said. “So, Gary, are you married?”

  He lifted his head to look at Mary, then shook it quickly and addressed Ian. “No, I’m divorced,” he said. “I wasn’t real good with words, like you are. I think she got bored with me.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Mary said.

  Gary shrugged. “I’m okay now,” he said, shrugging. “I have lots of friends and my practice, I keep real busy.”

  Ian nodded. “Good for you,” he said. “So, are you a good dentist? I’m sure we’ll be looking for one soon enough.”

  Laughing, Gary nodded. “I’ve never had a patient complain yet,” he said.

  “Well, that’s a fine recommendation then, isn’t it?” Ian replied, giving Mary a quick squeeze. “And what do you suggest the proper dental hygiene is for a woman who’s expecting?”

  Gary looked straight at Mary. “You’re pregnant?” he asked, and then blushed again. “I mean, congratulations.”

  Mary smiled. “Well, actually, we were trying to keep it a secret for a little bit longer,” she said, looking up at Ian. “But someone wants to shout it from the rooftops.”

  He grinned at her. “It just keeps slipping out,” he laughed.

  Gary stood. “Well, that’s just, that’s great,” he said. “You should be really happy. I, I’d better go now.”

  Mary and Ian both stood. “We’ll walk you out,” he said.

  Bradley sat back in his office chair. He could watch the meeting through the wireless camera system and hear the discussion in the next room through both the lap
top and the camera microphones. He hadn’t seen Gary in years. The conversation Ian and Mary shared with Gary reminded him of so many evenings Gary and his wife, Beverly, had come over and chatted with Jeannine and him. And then, after his divorce, Gary had sought their company most nights and they all became good friends.

  Jeannine had felt sorry for Gary because he was so shy and awkward around women and his divorce certainly hadn’t helped increase his self-esteem. Even though Gary was older than they were, he and Jeannine seemed to fill the roles of older siblings, offering advice and listening to his problems.

  But when he had problems, Gary was the first one to step up. He had even been kind enough to help Bradley financially when he had continued his search for Jeannine. He knew the house wouldn’t still have been his without Gary’s help.

  Bradley ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes for a moment. But he knew those old memories weren’t the cause for the unsettled feelings near his heart. When Ian had announced Mary was pregnant, he immediately remembered his dream. In it Mary had been eight months pregnant. He could easily recall the pressure of her swollen body against his, the feeling of their child moving against him when they were embracing and the rightness of her in his arms. But at the end of the dream she had walked away, married to someone else.

  All because he had chosen Jeannine. He suddenly sat up straight.

  Had that been a warning?

  He had never considered himself superstitious, but in his dream Mary told him she was married to Mike, a ghost. Would you have to be dead in order to be married to a ghost? Was Mary’s life at risk because of Jeannine’s investigation?

  He leaned forward in his chair and placed his head in his hands. What were his choices at this point? Jeannine was Mary’s client and there was no way Mary would drop the case. He knew her well enough to know she would not be worried about her own safety.

  Sitting back up in the chair, he scanned the monitor and found her in the camera screen in the front hall. She was smiling at Gary and waving good-bye.

  “What do you want from me, Mary O’Reilly,” he whispered, at the screen.

  He could hear her response in his mind. “Trust me.”

  He would just have to have faith. Trust Mary. That’s what she had asked for, and if it killed him, he would trust her.

  Once Gary left, Mary hurried over to the computer. She moved the screen back to face the room and unclicked the mute button.

  “So, did you hear the conversation?” she asked.

  Bradley nodded. “Yeah, but you don’t have to worry about Gary,” he said. “He’s as good as gold. He actually helped me when I was searching for Jeannine.”

  “So, you wouldn’t put him on your list?” Ian asked.

  “No, never,” Bradley said. “I’d trust him with my life.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Mary came out of the bathroom dressed in her favorite sleeping attire, a large t-shirt and sweatpants, turned off the lights and climbed onto the bed. She felt a little strange sleeping in the Master bedroom, the same bed Bradley and Jeannine had shared. But Ian had suggested that it would probably be the best place for her because Jeannine would gravitate to that room. She moved the pillows against the headboard, leaned back against them and pulled her laptop into her lap.

  She powered it on and clicked on the video conferencing software. In a moment she was connected with Bradley who was still sitting at his desk.

  “Planning on staying up all night, Chief?” she teased.

  “I was hoping you’d call,” he replied. “How are you doing?”

  The sound of his voice, deep and slightly rough, was heightened by the intimacy of sitting in his bed in the darkened bedroom. Mary felt it wash over her like a silken wave.

  “I’m good,” she said, keeping her voice to a whisper. “I like your house.”

  “I dreamt about you in my house,” he said.

  Laughing softly, she snuggled against the pillows. “Was I chasing bad guys?”

  He chuckled. “No, actually, you were cooking dinner.”

  “Well, how domestic of me.”

  “Extremely,” he said. “And, I have to tell you, exceptionally sexy.”

  She felt her cheeks burn and was grateful of the darkened room. “How is cooking dinner sexy?”

  “Well, it was a pot roast,” he replied with a quiet laughter.

  “Oh, well then, I totally understand,” she said. “Pot roast can be a stimulating experience.”

  “Exactly! I came into the house and you were standing in front of the stove. In my dream, I initially thought you were Jeannine, but then when I slid my arms around you and pulled you into my arms, I discovered it was you,” he said.

  “Were you disappointed?”

  “No, I was confused at first, but once you slipped your arms around my neck and kissed me, I knew everything was perfect.”

  “I kissed you? Sounds like I was being a little assertive.”

  “Have I mentioned how much I like assertive women?”

  She chuckled.

  “And when you were locked in my arms, I felt our baby move against me and I knew nothing could compare with that moment.”

  “I was pregnant? You could have mentioned that. Was I really fat?”

  “You were perfect,” he whispered slowly, his voice husky and his eyes meeting hers. “Absolutely perfect.”

  She took a deep breath and slowly released it, feeling her body respond to his words. “Bradley, I…”

  “Wait Mary,” he said. “Let me tell you the rest of the dream.”

  “Okay.”

  “You pulled away from me to stir something on the stove.”

  “I’m an idiot,” Mary muttered.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Oh, nothing, please continue.”

  “That’s when I noticed that Jeannine was sitting at the kitchen table,” he said. “She told me she’d been dead for eight years.”

  “What did I do?”

  “You invited her to dinner,” he replied, a small smile on his lips.

  “Well of course I did,” she said. “That was the only polite thing to do.”

  “Yes, I’m sure Miss Manners has something about dead wives and inviting them to dinner,” he said.

  Her laughter bubbled out, “Of course she does.”

  Bradley paused for a moment, just to study her. Her eyes were sparkling and her mouth was turned up in an adorable smile. Her lips were so kissable, especially when she was laughing. He had given her far too few reasons to laugh lately. Taking a deep breath, he continued. “That’s when Jeannine reminded me of our conversation on New Year’s Eve,” he said.

  Mary inhaled softly.

  “She reminded me that you told me the truth,” he said. “But I wasn’t listening. She reminded me that not only did you save my life; you had always been honest and open with me. She reminded me what an idiot I’d been.”

  “I couldn’t tell you anything else,” she said. “I wanted to, really, but I couldn’t.”

  “Yeah, I see that now,” he said. “I just wanted to let you know why I came knocking on your door at two o’clock in the morning. I had to apologize. I had to see in your eyes that you forgave me, that you still loved me. That is wasn’t too late.”

  “And then Ian answered the door,” she said, nodding in understanding.

  “And once again, I opted to act like an idiot rather than trust you,” he said. “If it helps, I was totally miserable on my drive home and nearly destroyed my living room when I got there by throwing my slippers across the room.”

  “Slippers?”

  “Yeah, I was in a hurry, so I just slipped on jeans and slippers.”

  “But, there was an ice storm…”

  “I figured that out when I stepped out of my car into a snow drift and then nearly killed myself slipping across your porch,” he confessed. “When Ian opened the door, I was laying on my stomach, inching my way to your door.”

  Mary put a hand over her mou
th to hold back the laughter.

  “Are you laughing at me?” he asked.

  She shook her head, too afraid to move her hand for fear the laughter would escape.

  “Are you lying to me?” he asked, his mouth turned up in a smile and his eyes sharing the joke with her.

  She nodded her head, still covering her mouth.

  His face sobered and he looked at her with such intensity that her laughter was dispelled. Her heart accelerated and she felt a warm rush throughout her body.

  “Do you still love me?” he asked.

  A single tear slipped down her cheek and she nodded slowly. “I never stopped,” she whispered.

  He took a deep breath. “It’s probably a good thing I’m not there right now,” he said. “It would be hard to walk away from you tonight, Mary.”

  Nodding, she met his eyes. “It would be hard to ask you to,” she whispered.

  His jaw tightened for a moment and then he relaxed. “Go to bed, Mary,” he said softly. “And have sweet dreams.”

  “I will,” she said, “Good-night Bradley.”

  She disconnected the call, lay back against the pillows and sighed. “I love you Bradley Alden,” she said aloud.

 

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