Darkness Exposed - a Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery

by Terri Reid

  “So how much are you telling Bradley at this point?” he asked.

  “Nothing yet,” she said. “Not until I have some solid evidence for him. He doesn’t need any more false leads.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “You’re doing a fine job, Mary. You and that motley crew of yours.”

  Mary laughed. “They’ve been exactly what we needed to solve this case, Sean. Ian has been invaluable.”

  “I’ll make sure it’s part of his record when I put it together.”

  “Thanks. Have you received any feedback on any of the subjects yet?”

  “No, I’ll have it for you after your brunch,” he said. “So, once you say your good-byes I’ll get online and we can go through all of the information.”

  “Perfect,” she said. “Thanks Sean. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” he said. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

  Mary started towards the kitchen, but at the foot of the stairs she heard a sound that made her pause. Someone was crying.

  She ran upstairs and followed the sound to the nursery at the end of the hall. She opened the door and found Jeannine sitting in the rocking chair, holding a baby blanket in her arms and sobbing.

  As Mary entered the room, Jeannine looked up at her. “I didn’t even get to hold her,” she said. “I could hear her crying for me. My heart was aching. I tried to lift my arms.”

  She bowed her head and wept some more.

  Mary closed the door and sat on the floor next to the chair. “I don’t know what to say. There are no words for what happened to you, what that man did to you.”

  “Will you find him?” she asked.

  Mary nodded. “Yes, I will find him. I promise you.”

  “Will you find my baby?” she pleaded, her lips quivering with emotion.

  Wiping her owns tears away, she nodded. “Yes, I will find your daughter and I’ll make sure she knows all about her wonderful, brave mother.”

  “You felt it, didn’t you?”

  “Felt it?

  “You felt me give birth,” Jeannine said. “You felt the pain.”

  “And the joy,” Mary said, “At the end.”

  “Yes, there was joy, wasn’t there,” she said. “I remember hearing her cry. It was like angels were in the room.”

  “You saved your baby, Jeannine. You gave that little girl life. She will be yours forever.”

  “Thank you for helping me remember, Mary,” she said. “I’ll always be grateful to you.”

  Mary covered her mouth to hold back the sobs. “You’re welcome, Jeannine,” she whispered through her tears as she watched Jeannine fade away.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  “Stanley, stop snacking on the muffins,” Rosie said, as she pulled a pan of breakfast casserole out of the oven. “Or there won’t be any left for the guests.”

  “Bunch of no-good murderers,” Stanley muttered, propping himself on one of the stools near the island. “They don’t deserve your muffins.”

  “Now Stanley, not all of them are murderers,” Rosie reminded him. “Only one of them is.”

  “Yes, the rest are just plain nuts,” he replied. “Don’t know why we have to feed them.”

  “Because that’s what you do at a brunch, Stanley,” Mary said, as she picked up the silverware and napkins. “The table is almost set Rosie. What else can I do?”

  “Just make sure Ian has all of his computer controls out of the way,” she said. “It makes such an unsightly mess.”

  Mary grinned. “I’ll have him put a tablecloth over it.”

  Rosie turned abruptly. “Mary!”

  “Just teasing, Rosie, I’ll have him tidy it up.”

  Mary laid the cutlery and linens at the end of the buffet, next to the plates. She looked around at the various dishes already lined up, ready to be served. Once again, Rosie had outdone herself. She only wished her stomach was not so tied up in knots that it would prevent her from enjoying any of the food.

  “Good morning, wifey dear,” Ian said. “How are the preparations going?”

  “Rosie is cooking up a storm, Stanley is complaining and Rosie is chastising him,” she said.

  “Ach, a typical meal at the MacDougal castle,” he said with a grin. “And may I add that the mistress of the castle looks delectable herself. I like the white frothy thing.”

  Mary looked down at her loose flowing white peasant-style blouse. “Thanks, I thought it gave me a ‘remember I’m expecting’ sort of look.”

  “Sorry, no,” Ian said. “It gives you a sort of a fairy-tale come hither look. Quite sexy.”

  “And look at you,” she said, noting his black cotton Henley shirt and jeans. “You look pretty good yourself.”

  “I put on a tighter fitting shirt for the occasion,” he said. “But after we’re done, the boys go back in hiding.”

  “A sad day for womankind everywhere,” she teased. “By the way, Rosie sent me to make sure you’ve cleaned up your mess of computer equipment.”

  Ian grinned. “Aye, I’ve hidden it all in the closet. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when your mother asks you to clean your room?”

  Mary nodded. “It’s a requirement.”

  The doorbell rang and Mary placed her hand over her stomach. “Showtime,” she said.

  “Aye, let’s get ‘em.”

  Mercedes and Harvey were the first to arrive.

  “Hello Professor MacDougal,” she said. “Or may I call you Ian?”

  “Ian will be fine,” he said. “It’s not likely that you’d be one of my students.”

  She smiled. “Oh, I’m sure there are plenty of things you could teach me.”

  Mary’s eyes widened. The woman had no tact at all; Mary was standing within three feet of Ian. “Did Ian happen to mention what he teaches?” she asked Mercedes.

  Shaking her head, Mercedes smiled coyly. “Ancient Scottish history?”

  “Oh, no, I teach paranormal psychology,” he said. “The study of things beyond our basic five senses.”

  “You mean things like ghosts?” Mercedes asked.

  “Aye, exactly.”

  “And the funniest thing,” Mary said. “It seems we have a ghost here in this house. Ian’s seen her a couple of times.”

  “Aye, a pretty young woman,” Ian said. “She seems to walk between the kitchen and the dining room.”

  “Tell them the funniest part, dear,” Mary said.

  “Oh, no, I insist, you do it, darling,” Ian said, wondering what in the world Mary was doing.

  “She’s looking for a basket of muffins,” Mary laughed. “Can you believe it?”

  Mercedes’ face turned pale and she dropped her purse on the ground. “A basket of muffins?”

  “Aye,” Ian responded. “I’m hoping to hold a seance in the next couple of days to see if I can get more information from her. It would be interesting to see if someone actually stole a basket of muffins from her.”

  Mercedes nodded slowly. “Yes, it would be very interesting.”

  “Muffins anyone?” Rosie called out, holding a basket in her hands. “They’re a special kind of bran muffin. For some reason a little voice kept telling me to make them.”

  Mary turned to Mercedes and Harvey. “Do you like bran muffins?” she asked.

  Mercedes stepped away from Mary, taking her husband with her. “I think I need to sit down for a while.”

  “That went quite well,” Ian whispered to Mary.

  “Yes, I think it did too.”

  “Muffin?” he asked, handing her one from the basket.

  She grinned. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  The doorbell rang again and both Bob and Gary were standing on the doorstep together.

  “So, do you believe that extraterrestrials can actually read our thoughts by using the metals in our fillings?” Bob asked Gary.

  “Well, Bob, that’s something I never considered,” he replied. “But let me do some research into that and I’ll get back to you.”

 
Gary turned and saw Mary at the door. “Please come in out of the cold,” she said.

  “Hello, Mary, how are you feeling today?” Gary asked as he stepped inside the house.

  “Oh, much better, thank you,” she said. “It was so kind of you to help me.”

  Ian walked up behind her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Aye, we both owe you a debt of thanks,” he said. “I couldn’t go on if something happened to her.”

  “Mary you look so pretty today,” Bob said. “Like a bride.”

  “Thank you, Bob, that was very sweet,” she replied.

  Rosie appeared next to them. “Hello, Bob, how are you today?”

  “Just fine Rosie, everything smells so delicious.”

  Rosie turned to Gary. “You must be Gary,” she said. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Rosie, Mary’s grandmother.”

  “Oh, you must be lying,” he said.

  Rosie’s face turned pale and she looked at Mary in panic. “Mary, what should I say?” she asked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Gary said. “I was only teasing. I thought you looked far too young to be Mary’s grandmother.”

  “Oh,” Rosie said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I thought you meant that I was actually lying and I do so hate to lie. I only do it in the most extreme circumstances.”

  “Care to expand on what those circumstances might be, sweetie?” Stanley asked.

  “Oh, Stanley,” Rosie said, blushing. “You are such a tease.”

  “Why don’t we all go into the dining room,” Mary suggested. “I think brunch is almost ready to be served.”

  “Yes, do go,” Rosie insisted. “I’ll have the rest of the dishes out in a minute.”

  Most of the group left, but Gary remained behind. “Rosie, I really need to apologize for my comment,” he said. “I’m not very good with people, so I often end up putting my foot in my mouth.”

  Rosie stepped forward and put her hand on his arm. “Oh, no, it was nothing,” she said. “Really.”

  “Well, would you please allow me to help you carry these dishes in to make up for it?” he asked. “I would feel so much better.”

  Smiling Rosie nodded. “Of course, you can.”

  “Why don’t I carry in the pitchers of drinks?” he offered.

  “That would be lovely,” she said, picking up a plate of fruit.

  He lifted the pitchers and then said. “Oh, these have condensation on the bottom. Let me wipe them off and I’ll join you directly.”

  “Well, thank you, Gary,” she said. “Most men wouldn’t understand what a mess condensation can make in a table setting.”

  Once Rosie left the room, Gary slipped the packets of powder out of his pocket and mixed it into the pitchers of juice. “And most men aren’t me, Rosie.”

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  “When is their party going to end?” Sean wondered, as he sat at his desk waiting for the follow up call. The computers had gone down in his area, so he hadn’t been able to watch the brunch via the camera hook-up, but he figured Mary would call once the party was over. Finally, frustrated, he called Bradley to see if he had been watching.

  “Chief Alden,” Bradley said when he answered his cell phone. “Hi, Sean, what’s up?”

  He walked over to his computer and turned it on. “No,” he said. “I haven’t kept tabs on them today. I figured you were watching, so I could get some work done.”

  Typing in his password, he pressed enter and waited for his screen to appear. “Weren’t you supposed to have a meeting with them after the brunch?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Sean replied. “I figured the brunch would be finished in a couple of hours at the most. It’s been nearly three hours and, I hate to admit it, I’m a little concerned.”

  “Okay, I got the link,” Bradley said. “It’s taking a few moments to load.”

  The video links came up and Bradley clicked on each room to get a closer look. There was no one in the kitchen, no one in the front room, no one in the dining…wait!

  “Sean, I got a view of the dining room and it looks like everyone is asleep at the table,” he said.

  “What the hell?” Sean asked. “Is Mary there?”

  Bradley zoomed in, went around the table and his heart sunk. “No, Sean, I don’t see her,” he said.

  “Okay, well, she could be in one of the bathrooms,” Sean said.

  “I’m going,” Bradley said. “I can be there in less than an hour.”

  “Call me when you get there,” Sean said. “I’ll be heading out as soon as I can.”

  Bradley ran to his cruiser, flipped on the siren and headed out to Highway 20. He put a call through to his former police chief in Sycamore.

  “Hey, Chief, this is Bradley Alden. I got a problem at my old house. I’ve got some friends staying there and I can’t get hold of any of them. I’m a little concerned something might have happened to them. Could you have someone go by and check it out?”

  “Is this related to what happened eight years ago?” his former Chief asked.

  “Yeah, I’m afraid it might be,” Bradley said. “And it could literally be a case of life or death.”

  “I’ll head over there myself,” he said. “I still got a copy of your house key.”

  “Thanks, I’m on my way too. I should be there in about 45 minutes.”

  “I’ll call you when I get there,” the chief said. “And let you know what’s going on.”

  “Thanks again.”

  Sean picked up the files from his secretary and started down the hallway of the downtown police station. He was almost to the elevator when someone shouted his name.

  “Hey, Sean, wait.”

  Sean turned to see one of the newer recruits jogging down the hall towards him. “This just came in from Cook County and your secretary thought you might want it.”

  Sean scanned the pages of the fax. The doctor had indeed remembered the case and she was able to put her hands on the death certificate right away. The woman that had died that night during labor had been identified by her husband as Beverly Copper.

  “Thanks, I appreciate it,” he said to the recruit just as the elevator opened. “Hey, find out where they buried her.”

  Chapter Forty

  Chief Kip Vitner was at the Alden place within five minutes of the call. He hurried up the walkway, key in hand, but found the door standing open. He reached into his holster for his service revolver and slowly entered the house.

  He moved through the hallway, his back against the wall, and peered into the living room. It was empty. Then he moved on to the dining room and caught his breath. There were bodies scattered all over the room. He holstered his gun and moved forward. The first body was that of an older woman. She was laying with her head on the table and her hand touching the elderly man by her side. Kip reached over and placed his fingertips at the base of her neck. She still had a pulse.

  Pulling out his radio, he called for back-up and ambulances.

  He moved around the table and found that all of the victims were still alive. However, there were two empty place settings.

  A moment later, several uniformed police officers entered the house. “I want you to check the rest of the house,” he said. “We’re missing two people.”

  The young man at the end of the table began to stir. He lifted his head. “What happened?” he asked.

  “It looks like you were drugged.”

  He stood up, his knees nearly buckling beneath him, but he caught himself and forced his muscles to hold him. “Where’s Mary?” he gasped.

  “Who?”

  “Mary O’Reilly,” he yelled. “Where the hell is Mary?”

  “Hey, listen, buddy,” Kip said, moving towards Ian. “You and your friends have been drugged up pretty bad. And it looks like some of your party is missing.”

  Ian shoved away from the table and moved to the base of the stairs. “Mary,” he called.

  “Hey, listen buddy, I’ve got officers up there searching all the rooms,”
he said. “If your Mary is in this house we’ll find her.”

  “I’ve got to call Bradley,” Ian said.

  “He’s on his way,” Kip replied. “He’s the one who called me. He’ll be here in less than 30 minutes.”

  “I pray that’s quick enough,” he said.

  Just then Jeannine appeared behind the Kip. “Ian, what happened?”

  Ian, still feeling the effects of the drug, forgot that no one else could see Jeannine.

  “Oh, thank the Lord, you’ve come,” he said. “They’ve taken Mary.”

  “Yeah, I know that,” Kip said. “I told you.”

  “Who took her?” Jeannine asked.

  Ian shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “Who is still here at the party?”