by Terri Reid
A popular ghost movie appeared on the screen. Mike turned to Bradley and grinned. “Bradley,” he whispered slowly. “You see dead people.”
“Try again,” Bradley suggested.
Mike flipped through a few more channels.
“The Bears are at 2nd and goal. With only one minute on the clock, they could take this game. They only need three points to win and a touchdown would clinch the game.
They get into formation, the ball is snapped.”
Mike and Bradley leaned toward the screen.
“The defense is coming on strong. The Quarterback is feeling a lot of pressure.”
“Throw the ball,” Mike urged. “Come on, there’s a dozen guys open out there.”
“The Quarterback steps out of the hole. He can’t seem to find anyone to throw the ball.”
“Where the hell is the offense, why isn’t anyone protecting this guy?” Bradley yelled at the screen.
“He steps back and trips.”
“He trips?” Mike yells, standing up and moving closer to the screen. “We pay him 1.2 million dollars and he trips?”
“The defense is rushing. Oh, no, they’ve got a hold of him. Is that the ball? Did the ball just pop loose from his hold?”
“Of course it did,” Bradley yelled, joining Mike next to the TV. “Do you need glasses too?”
“The ball is loose and it’s been picked up by one of the linebackers from the other team. And he’s making a run for it. Look at him go. He’s on the fifty, he’s on the forty, he’s on the thirty.”
“Run after him, you idiots,” Mike screamed, jumping up and down. “Grab him, jump on him, break his legs. Stop him!!!”
Bradley turned to Mike. “Break his legs?”
“Well, they’re not carrying guns,” he pointed out.
“Good point,” Bradley agreed.
“Touchdown!!! Well, folks, there is no way the Bears are going to be coming back from...”
Mike changed the channel. “I couldn’t take the stress,” Mike admitted.
“Good point.”
“Welcome to America’s Next Top Model.”
“No way,” Bradley said. “This is chick-TV.”
“Yesterday we filmed on the shores of Hawaii. The contestants modeled swimsuits in the surf and sand.”
A scene of twelve scantily clad models flashed on the screen.
“Whoa, wait just a second,” Bradley said.
They both backed away from the television and, without taking their eyes off the screen, sat in their chairs.
“That little blonde is pretty cute,” Mike said.
“Yeah, but doesn’t that brunette kind of look like Mary,” Bradley said. “Maybe a little taller and, you know...”
He arched his hands about a half foot in front of his chest. “She might be a little bigger...”
Mike cocked his head slightly. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, she’s a little bigger,” he said, and then he stopped. “You know, not that I looked or anything.”
Bradley glared at Mike.
“Hey, I’m dead, not blind.”
“Shhh,” Bradley said. “They’re doing the judging.”
A few minutes later the phone rang. Bradley, his eyes still on the screen, absently answered it. “Yeah, Chief Alden here,” he said.
He immediately stood and walked away from the television and over to his desk on the other side of the room. “Okay, you’re sure,” he said. “Any record?”
Mike turned away from the television to listen to Bradley’s side of the conversation.
“Okay, I got it,” he said. “Paul Taylor, former Freeport resident. Recently released on parole, convicted of manslaughter in the death of his wife and three children. How did they die?”
“Oh, shit,” Mike muttered, instantly knowing what Paul Taylor’s conviction had been.
It was the case he had recently mentioned to Mary. The man had killed his family to avoid child support payments and then set fire to the home. Mike had been one of the first responders and had burst into the little girl’s room before the fire reached it. But, when he picked her up, he knew she was already gone. He had taken off his mask and seen the bruises around her little neck.
Bradley hung up the phone and turned to Mike. “Mike, I need to ask you,” he said. “What do you know about Paul Taylor?”
“Gotta go, Chief,” Mike said, fading away.
“Mike get back here,” Bradley called to the empty room. “Well, damn!”
Chapter Twenty-two
He flipped the switch and the dark underground room was filled with light. Pushing the heavy door closed until he heard the metallic click of the latch sliding into place, he hurriedly slipped the steel bolt into place, locking himself in.
He exhaled slowly and wiped the sweat from his brow. It had been a long day and all he could think about was coming home and talking to her. After all these years, he still loved her. He hoped she knew that he looked forward to the next decade as much as he had the past. It had been harder, of course, but he knew that the time they had spent apart physically would be rewarded in the next life, when they could be together forever.
He walked over to the old stereo sitting on a gray metal desk in one corner of the room. He brushed the dust off the black plastic. He was a little ashamed he had allowed it to get into this condition. Opening one of the drawers, he pulled out a bottle of Windex and a roll of paper towels. Within a few minutes, the desk and stereo gleamed like new.
Smiling, he stood back and admired it. She would be pleased. She like when things were all tidied up.
Opening another drawer, he looked through his collection of CDs. He needed to select the perfect one; she was a little fussy when it came to her music. There it was, soft and romantic. It would remind her of all the wonderful times they spent together. He pushed on the top of the CD player; the lid sprung open and he slipped the CD inside and immediately pressed the Pause button
Another drawer held two ivory candles in crystal candlesticks and a box of matches. Arranging the candles on either side of the desk, he lit them and inhaled the sweet beeswax scent as they began to burn.
Perfect, just perfect.
He walked back across the room and turned off the light. He knew she preferred candlelight to the harsh fluorescent lights. She had once said that candlelight was more flattering to a woman’s features. Of course, he knew that was ridiculous, she was perfect in his eyes. But, he wanted to be sure she was pleased when they finally got to see each other.
Walking back to the desk, he pressed the Play button and the soft sounds of “Make It With You” by Bread echoed in the small chamber. He picked up a steel folding chair and carried it with him to the other side of the room in front of an older model upright freezer. He played with the chair for a few moments, angling it perfectly and then he finally sat down.
Reaching forward, he grasped the stainless steel freezer handle and pulled it open. A rush of icy vapor escaped into the room and he sat back, waiting for it to clear. Then he smiled.
“Good evening, darling,” he whispered. “You look beautiful tonight.”
The frozen women’s upper torso was wrapped in clear plastic and was leaning against the side of the freezer wall. Frost had grown on her cheeks and forehead, giving her a sparkling, almost festive appearance. Whatever hair she might have had, had become brittle and fallen down in small pieces inside the wrapping. Her eyes were open and staring sightlessly forward.
On the shelf above were her remaining limbs, wrapped carefully in plastic and pushed to the back of the freezer. Next to the limbs was a white box, nestled carefully against the side of the wall.
“You look like you could use a shawl,” he said.
He stood up and took a plastic container from the top of the freezer. Opening it, he pulled out an ivory colored woolen shawl and laid it carefully over the shoulders of the corpse. “There, that’s much better,” he soothed. “Is that better?”
He started to put the container back
, when he paused. “What?” he said. “Oh, of course, I can do that.”
He reached into the container again and pulled out a smaller woolen shawl. It was pink and had fringe on all four sides. “She always looks so lovely when she wears this,” he said.
He reached into the freezer for the small white box and carefully opened the lid. The tiny frozen baby was no more than ten inches long and still wrapped in a fetal position. Sliding his hands beneath the plastic that enveloped the baby, he slipped the shawl around its tiny form.
He sat down in the chair, the swaddled baby in his arms and he slowly rocked back and forth. “Now we can be a family again.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Sun was peeking through the windows when Mary woke up the next day. She sat up, stretched and...SMELLED COOKIES. Snatching her robe from the end of the bed, she hurried down the stairs to the kitchen. Stanley and Ian were already perched next to the island, waiting for Rosie to take the cookies from the cookie sheet to the cooling rack. And they were both still in their pajamas too.
Stanley was wearing flannel pajamas that were blue with a subtle pinstripe and Ian was in sweat pants and nothing else.
“Rosie, darling, they don’t have to cool,” Ian said. “They’re better hot.”
“You’ll burn your mouth if I let you eat them this way,” Rosie scolded. “You have to wait.”
Stanley scooted around the island and was making his way toward the mixing bowl. Rosie picked up a wooden spoon and slapped it on the counter. “You stick your fingers into my cookie dough and I’ll slap your hand,” she threatened.
While she was busy with Stanley, Ian reached over and grabbed a hot cookie from the cooling tray. “Ouch, ouch, ouch,” he yelled, as he tossed the cookie back and forth between hands, trying to cool it down.
Rosie turned to him. “Ian, I told you to wait.”
He popped the cookie into his mouth, bit down and smiled. “Oh, Rosie,” he said through a mouthful of cookie, “the temptation was just too great.”
Mary opened the drawer in the counter and pulled out a teaspoon. While Rosie was busy scolding Ian, she stepped forward and scooped some of the dough out with her spoon.
“Hey,” Stanley yelled, “Mary just stole some cookie dough.”
“Tattle-tale,” Mary said, sticking her dough-covered tongue out at Stanley. “Besides, I used a spoon, not my finger.”
“Mary, I thought you were the mature one here,” Rosie said.
“Excuse me?” Stanley asked. “She’s the mature one? I’m old enough to be her grandfather.”
“And you have cookie dough under your fingernail,” Mary said.
“Stanley!” Rosie chided.
“Busted!” Mary grinned.
Ian grinned over at Mary and motioned with his head towards the cooling rack. She nodded eagerly. He grabbed another cookie and tossed it across the room to her. She took a bite and closed her eyes in complete ecstasy. “Oh, Rosie, these are so good,” she said.
“Better than sex?” Jeannine asked, appearing in the kitchen.
Mary grinned. “Well, they’re better than sledding.”
“What?” Ian asked.
Mary chuckled. “Never mind.”
“Okay, all of you, out of the kitchen,” Rosie stated firmly. “We can’t go interview bad guys if you are eating all of the cookies up. Go, go get dressed. Now!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ian said. “Stanley, do you want to use the shower first.”
Stanley nodded, “Yeah, then I get first dibs on the cooled cookies.”
Mary walked over to the fridge and pulled out a Diet Pepsi. “Breakfast anyone?” she asked.
“You’re as bad as Bradley,” Jeannine said. “How can you drink that stuff?”
Ian poured himself a cup of tea. “Aye, I couldn’t stomach it,” he said. “Rosie, tell her she shouldn’t be drinking that in the morning.”
“You just don’t understand the finer things in life,” Mary said. “Right Rosie?”
“Oh, no, dear, I think that stuff is going to lead you to an early grave,” she said, popping a cookie into her mouth. “Of course, so is this.”
Ian grabbed another cookie and bit down. “Aye, but this is a lovely way to go.”
“Why thank you dear,” Rosie said. “Mary, will you listen for the timer? I’m going to run upstairs and get dressed.”
“No, problem,” Mary replied. “Take your time.”
Once Rosie left the room, Jeannine hovered over to the stove. “I miss this,” she said, running her hand over the dials. “I used to love to bake.”
“I didn’t realize you cooked?” Mary said.
She shook her head. “Oh, no, I was really bad at cooking. But, I loved baking. Cookies, brownies, and cakes,” she smiled. “I would bake during the day, and we’d go out and pawn it off on the neighbors in the evening. If Bradley ate half of what I made, he would have been as wide as he was tall.”
“Your neighbors must have loved you,” Ian said.
Darkness fell across Jeannine’s face. “Obviously not all of them.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, you’re right.”
“So, Rosie mentioned you are visiting the bad guys today,” Jeannine said. “Who are you going to see?”
Ian sat down at the table and pulled out the yellow pad with the names on them. “This is just to start,” he said. “We’ll see if they lead us to any more leads.”
Mary joined him at the table, “We thought we’d start with the people you had contact with on that last day,” she said. “Do you have any insight you can add.”
“Mercedes had a huge ego,” she said. “And she is very susceptible to flattery.”
She turned to Ian. “Especially from hunky men.”
Ian grinned. “Well, I’ll be sure to turn on the charm.”
“We’re going to be placing discreet bugging devices in their homes,” Mary said, “Any suggestion where we should place it in Mercedes’ house?”
“Probably her office,” Jeannine suggested. “She spends most of her time there. And it seems to be the room she and Harvey use when they are having private discussions.”
“So, how do we get her to show us her office?” Ian asked.
Jeannine smiled. “Ask her about her real estate awards,” she said. “She has them mounted on the walls in her office.”
“Perfect,” Mary said.
“Jeannine, I want to have another session with you and Mary,” Ian said.
Jeannine slid to the corner of the room. “It wasn’t easy to be back there, Ian,” she said. “I don’t know...”
“I know it was hard,” Mary said, “Somehow I lived through all the memories you were experiencing. I felt them too.”
Jeannine moved closer to them. “You felt them?” she asked.
Mary nodded and closed her eyes for a moment. “His hands on my skin, his voice through the drugs, the cold and damp room and just the fear for the life of the baby,” Mary said. “Yes I felt it all.”
“So, when I remembered what happened, I wasn’t alone,” she said. “You were there with me.”
“The whole time,” Mary said.
“Do you want to do it again?” she asked. “Do you really want to go back there again?”
Mary took a deep breath and shook her head. “No, I don’t. But I will, because I want to find out who did this to you,” she said. “And I really want to kick his butt.”
Jeannine giggled. “I wish I was more like you, Mary,” she said. “I’ve never been very brave. I always ran away, instead of staying and fighting. I wonder...”
Mary stood and walked over to Jeannine. “You were brave,” she said. “You put up with everything that happened to you because you were protecting your baby. You were amazing.”
Jeannine turned to Ian. “We can do it again,” she said. “Mary and me, we’re going to kick some butt.”
Ian nodded. “Aye, I can see that,” he said. “Thank you, Jeannine.”
Jeannine started to fade away
. “No, thank you. Both of you.”
Chapter Twenty-four
“So, how do I look?” Rosie asked, as she came down the stairs wearing a pink boucle suit with a multi-colored scarf draped over her shoulders.
“You look lovely,” Mary said.
“Why the hell you all dressed up like a frothy pink confection for some crazy killer?” Stanley asked. “You go back upstairs and dress in something less...less... Well, damn it, woman, you know what I mean.”
Rosie stopped at the bottom of the stairs and put her hands on her hips. “No, Stanley, I don’t believe I do understand what you mean,” she said. “And I don’t believe I’m going to change my clothes. I like being a pink confection.”
Stanley walked across the room and stood in front of her. “I say you’re going back up and getting yourself dowdied up,” he said. “Ian, tell her.”
Ian grinned and shook his head. “I’d say she should go out there just the way she is,” he said. “All of her beauty is bound to distract the man. And when you add those cookies to the mixture... Well, you’ll have no problem placing the bug in that house.”
