by Terri Reid
The funeral director nodded. “Of course, this way please.”
He led her through the empty chapel to the front row. “This is reserved for family,” he said. “They will be joining you in about a half hour.”
Mary slid over to the end of the pew and gazed around the big church. The stained-glass windows portraying Christ’s last days on the earth were done in an abstract style and she had a hard time discerning the faces amidst all the color.
“Those windows used to freak me out.”
She turned and found Jeannine seated next to her. “Oh, you came back! It’s so good to see you,” Mary whispered.
Jeannine smiled; her whole countenance glowed with peace. “I can’t stay long, but I couldn’t miss my own memorial service,” she replied. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” Mary said.
Shaking her head, Jeannine laughed. “I do recall mentioning something about your inability to lie,” she said. “How are you doing, truthfully?”
“I’m still working through some of the memories,” she said.
“My memories,” Jeannine added.
Mary nodded. “Yes, the memories of your kidnapping. It’s getting better, but some things set it off.”
“You’ve got to remember, it was me,” Jeannine said. “Those memories are mine.”
“That’s what Ernie said,” Mary replied.
“Ernie’s a smart man.”
“You know Ernie?”
Jeannine laughed again. “Why there’s a whole Mary O’Reilly fan club up in heaven. We’re giving out referrals now.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “Oh, great.”
“How is Bradley doing?” Jeannine asked. “And when is the wedding?”
“He’s doing better,” Mary said. “And June…early June.”
“I hope you’re both very happy,” Jeannine said. “Not that you need it, but you have my blessing.”
A warm feeling of gratitude filled Mary’s heart. “Thank you, that means so much to me.”
Jeannine looked up at the back of the chapel. “Oh, people are coming,” she said. “I have to be on my way. Give Bradley my love.”
“Oh, wait,” Mary said. “We’ve met Maggie.”
Jeannine smiled. “Maggie is a darling, isn’t she?”
“But, we’re trying to find…”
“I’ve got to go,” Jeannine interrupted, slowly fading away. “Good-bye Mary.”
* * *
“And then she just faded away,” Mary told Bradley as they walked away from the church.
“Well, she knew Maggie, so she must be the sad lady,” Bradley said. “But why did she ask me to find her if she was down the block all along?”
Mary shook her head. “I don’t know,” she replied. “But I think we’re a step closer.”
He opened the passenger side door for Mary and helped her in. “Thank you for coming with me. It meant a great deal to me,” he said, and then he quickly scanned the parking lot before he leaned down and kissed her.
Although she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his neck and continue the kiss, she leaned back in her seat. “I’m glad I came,” she said. “Jeannine’s parents are wonderful and seeing Jeannine again helped me quite a bit.”
“When I stood up and read the eulogy, she was standing at the back of the church,” Bradley said. “She sent me a saucy wink before she faded away. I know she’s at peace.”
“Somehow I’m sending her an invitation to the wedding,” Mary said, once Bradley had entered his side of the car. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but she’s on the list.”
He laughed. “Mary, if anyone could figure out a way, it would be you.”
Chapter Forty-six
“Mary, did you hear what I said?” Rosie asked for a second time.
Mary sat on the couch in Linda’s living room, staring down at her phone, watching Alex’s phone number show up on the screen for the fourth time that morning. She decided to wait a little longer before answering it. She didn’t want to hear the results from the DNA test. She didn’t want to have it confirmed that Mike’s dad was a killer.
“Mary!” Rosie called from the other side of the couch.
Mary jumped. “Rosie, you don’t need to yell,” she said. “I heard you.”
“Oh, you did?” Rosie asked, lifting up her eyebrow. “Then you don’t think Katie would mind?”
Mary sighed. “Okay, busted. I didn’t hear you,” she said. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted by a case I’m working on. What did you ask?”
Rosie leaned over and patted her arm. “That’s okay, dear. I just wondered if you thought Maggie would be willing to be the flower girl for Linda’s wedding,” Rosie said. “She is just adorable and since you’d be in the bridal party, she’d know someone.”
Linda turned to Mary. “We really don’t know any small children,” Linda admitted, seated across from them. “What do you think?”
“I think Maggie would be delighted to dress up and carry flowers,” she said. “What little girl wouldn’t love that?”
“Wonderful,” Rosie said, glancing down at her list and placing a neat checkmark next to that task. “Now, let’s talk about music. Do you want live music or a CD for your wedding?”
Linda shook her head. “Well, I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t realize I had to think about that. Doesn’t the church…”
Rosie shook her head. “No, and since we only have a week until your wedding day, I think a CD might be a better bet than trying to find an organist,” she said.
“Is that proper?” Linda asked.
“Oh, sure, lots of people do it,” Rosie said. “And now you can have any song you’d like when you are walking up the aisle.”
“Don’t they just play Here Comes the Bride?” Linda asked.
“Well, they certainly can,” Rosie said. “And since you seem to be more of a traditional bride, why don’t we just stick with Here Comes the Bride?”
“That would be perfect,” Linda agreed. “What’s next?”
At that moment, Linda’s father walked in the front door and slammed it behind him. “Why the hell is there ice on the front walk?” he demanded. “I just about slipped and broke my leg.”
Something in the tenor of his voice reminded Mary of Gary Copper and she was instantly transported back to the small basement prison. She could hear her heart pounding wildly in her chest and her breathing became shallow.
“Neil, I have company,” Linda said.
He walked over to the couch and smiled down at Mary and Rosie, his narrow face and reptilian smile creased and darkened by years of abuse. “Ladies,” he said smoothly, “I’m Neil Tomlin, Linda’s daddy; it’s nice to have you in my home.”
Rosie looked up at him and smiled. “How do you feel about giving your daughter away at her wedding?” she asked.
“She ain’t getting married,” he yelled, his face red with rage. “I already told her, I forbid it.”
His close proximity, his body odor and his hostility pushed Mary further into her delusion. She was trapped again and Gary was hovering over her.
“No one is getting married without my say so,” he continued, his voice echoing from the ceiling. “Ain’t no one kicking me out of my rightful home.”
Grabbing the edge of the couch, Mary tried to force herself to breath normally. She looked over at Linda, her face pale and her lips drawn tight, and knew, despite her own feelings, she had to help her. “Don’t you think your daughter is old enough to make her own decisions?” Mary asked.
The man turned on Mary, his foul breath was hot and smelled of beer, his teeth were brown and stained, and small lines of spittle lay in the corners of his mouth. “Who the hell do you think you are? No one asked you for your opinion!”
Mary couldn’t help it; the fear was too intense. She cowered against the side of the couch and hated herself even more when she saw the self-satisfied smile slide over his face. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he sai
d.
“I’m getting married next Saturday, Neil,” Linda finally said.
The man turned to her, his eyes cold and resentful. “Well, we will just see about that, won’t we?”
He walked slowly out of the room and down the hall.
Mary jumped again when Rosie reached over and placed a hand on her arm. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Mary took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, just a flashback.” she admitted to Rosie. “I’ll be fine.”
Linda was mortified. “I am so sorry,” she apologized. “I thought he had gone to one of his cronies’ houses, he’s usually gone all day on Saturday. I had no idea he’d show up here.”
“Is that really your father?” Rosie asked.
“Step-father,” Linda said. “I don’t know what my mother was thinking when she married him.”
Rosie nodded. “Oh, you told us about him on Monday,” she said. “Are you sure he’s not going to try and stop you?”
Linda shook her head. “He can try, but nothing’s going to stop me from marrying the man I love.”
“Good for you, dear,” Rosie said, leaning over and patting Linda’s arm. “Love’s too precious not to fight for it.”
Then she turned and looked at Mary. “Mary, dear, you don’t look well,” she said.
Mary was still feeling anxious, her gaze wandering back to the hallway, wondering if Neil was going to come back into the room.
Rosie followed her gaze and nodded. “Dear, Linda and I just have a few more things to discuss,” she said. “I can handle things from here. Why don’t you just go home and lie down?”
Mary shook her head. “Oh, no, I’m fine, really,” she argued.
Standing up, Rosie picked up Mary’s purse and jacket. “Mary, go home,” she insisted, her voice brooking no argument.
Smiling at her, Mary nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Rosie grinned. “That’s more like it.”
Chapter Forty-seven
“Darling. Time to wake up.”
Mary snuggled deeper into her couch and pulled the afghan closer.
“Now, Mary, me darling, you made me promise to wake you at four,” Ian said. “And I’m bound to keep me promises. So, if you don’t wake soon, I’ve a lovely piece of ice waiting to slide down the back of your shirt.”
“It would be the last piece of ice you ever saw,” she murmured.
“Ah, there are you, and waking like the dawn over the lochs, bright and cheery,” he said with a wide smile.
“No one likes a smart aleck Scot,” she muttered.
“Most find me quite charming.”
She sat up, stretched her arms and rolled her neck. “There’s no accounting for taste.”
He sat next to her on the couch. “And what is it that you don’t want to do this fine afternoon?”
Sighing, she picked up the phone on the table next to her. “I don’t want to return a call,” she said. “And I hope I’ve waited long enough that the news won’t come until Monday.”
He patted her shoulder. “No putting off bad news,” he said. “Get to it and I’ll put together a wee snack for you to enjoy after.”
Ian left the room and Mary glanced up at the clock. Four o’clock on a Saturday afternoon. Please Alex, don’t be available, she prayed as she pressed the button on her phone to return his call. After two rings, he answered.
“Alex Boettcher.”
Crap!
“Hi Alex, it’s Mary,” she said, “just returning your call.”
“Where have you been?” he asked. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for hours.”
“Oh, really?” she lied. “My phone must be acting up again. Sorry.”
“Well, I wanted to let you know the results from the DNA testing have come back,” he said. “We have a close match in the system, but for now it’s a dead end.”
Mary breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Really? Why?” she asked.
“Well, we got a partial match, but it’s from a guy who died a couple of years ago,” Alex said. “A firemen from Freeport. Mike Richards.”
Mary’s heart sank. “So, Richards isn’t our guy?” she asked, hating herself for acting dumb.
“No, he was too young,” Alex answered. “He would have been about the same age as the victims.”
“Oh, so what’s our next step?”
“Since it wasn’t an exact match, we can assume that it probably is someone related to Richards,” he said. “And the Lena Police Chief is a Richards, so he can probably point us in the right direction. Maybe we’re looking for a cousin or something.”
“Or something,” Mary muttered.
“Oh, I got the forensic diving crew,” he said. “And they are willing to go down to the lake tomorrow, about noon.”
“On a Sunday?” she asked, pleasantly surprised.
“Well, they’re all volunteers, so weekends work better for them,” he explained. “And I’ve contacted Ronny’s parents. They’ve agreed to be there, too.”
“Oh, that must have been hard,” she said, her heart breaking. “How did the conversation go?”
“Uncomfortable, stilted, painful,” Alex said. “They’ve been waiting for this call for twenty years, and I’m sure they would have preferred one that claimed their son was still alive.”
“Well, at least they won’t be waiting another twenty years for a phone call,” she said. “At least this will help with closure.”
“Yeah, they sounded like great people on the phone,” he said. “I can’t imagine what they’ve been going through all these years.”
“Neither can I,” she agreed.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Alex added. “I’ve got those special investigators willing to meet with you at the lake tomorrow morning to extract the evidence from the tree. I figured it would work better to have everything done at the same time. That way, if we attract attention, it will be too late for anyone to do anything.”
“Thanks, Alex, that’s a perfect plan,” she said. “We can be there by eight.”
“Good,” he said. “And now, I’m going to reread this entire case, so I’ll probably be up all night. Do me a favor and bring a couple of your Diet Pepsi’s with you tomorrow. I have a feeling I’m going to need them.”
This sounds like a great opportunity to stall an investigation, she thought.
“Sounds like you’ve got a full plate,” Mary said. “Do you want me to follow up with the Lena Police?”
“Hey, that would be great, especially since you know more about the case than I do. Be sure to bring Bradley along to make it official,” he said. “I have a feeling I’ll be at the lake all day tomorrow and I’ve got to be in court on Monday.”
“Sure, yeah, I can go meet with him on Monday,” she supplied. “Soon enough?”
“Yeah, it isn’t like the murderer is going to skip town in the meantime.”
* * *
“On Monday I will be going into Lena with the DNA information and meeting with your uncle,” Mary said. “Mike, the DNA was a close match to the DNA they had on file for you. It’s not going to take them long to connect your father.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” he asked. “It’s my father, Mary. Am I supposed to stand by and do nothing?”
She thought about all of the times he had stepped in and saved her life. Thought of all the things he’d done to help her. Thought about how much she owed him. And although this went against everything she was raised to do, she felt she owed him a chance to decide how he wanted to handle things.
“Well, I can wait until later in the week before I go to your Uncle,” she suggested.
Mike floated across Mary’s living room. “What? And give them a chance to flee the country? Really, Mary, do you want to be arrested for aiding and abetting a criminal?” he asked.
“I won’t be,” she said, “I’m just giving you a chance to decide what you think is right. Because after that, I have to do what I know is right.”
He turned to f
ace her. “And is what you think is right and what I think is right so different?”
She shrugged. “Right now, I think it is. But, I also understand that if this were my parents, things wouldn’t be so clear cut.”
“Don’t you think Alex is going to figure out something’s going on?” he asked. “Alex doesn’t sound like a fool. He’d figure it out, Mary. And even if you weren’t arrested, your reputation would be ruined.”
“I don’t care about my reputation,” Mary shouted.
Ian came down the stairs at that moment. “Really now? You’re thinking about ruining your reputation?” he asked. “And who’s the lucky fellow?”
Only silence greeted his comment and he looked from Mary to Mike and shook his head. “So, who’s going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Mary said.
“I think my dad killed Timmy,” Mike said at the same time.
Ian blindly stepped forward and sat on the arm of the couch. “I couldna heard you right,” he said slowly. “Certainly not your da.”
“I followed him out to the barn, after you left,” he said. “He had a place in the back of the barn, a hiding place. Timmy’s fishing pole was locked away in there.”
“Why would he do that?” Ian asked.
Mike remembered watching his dad pull the fishing pole out of the locker and felt sick all over again.
“Probably just a souvenir,” Mike said in disgust, “because he had to give all the other ones away to frame Emil.”
“And you’re thinking about ruining your reputation in what way?” Ian asked Mary.
She shrugged. “Nothing really. And it doesn’t matter.”
Mike floated across the room to stand next to her. “She wants to give me time to warn my parents and have them skip town.”
“Warn them about what?” Ian asked.
“The DNA test came back,” Mary explained. “The only person on file that was a close match was a Freeport fireman who died a couple of years ago. A fireman named Mike Richards.”
“Ah,” Ian said, lifting his eyebrows and looking directly at Mike. “I see. So, by Monday they’ll put it all together and come knocking on your father’s door.”
