by Terri Reid
Mary paused and lifted her eyebrows. She turned toward Dee and Sven. “Oh, so you were the one who suggested they look me up,” she said pointedly. “How interesting.”
Both Dee and Sven had the grace to look guilty.
“So, the favor,” Mary continued. “I need to have some presenter passes for the conference. I’m working on a case and it’s…”
“No need to say anything more. I’ll get you the passes,” Kathi replied. “I’ll put you in as a research team. How many will you need?”
Mary considered it for a moment. “Four,” she said. “I’ll need four.”
“Okay,” Kathi said. “And if you need a couple more, no problem. How much time do you want for your presentation?”
“I’d really rather not do that,” Mary said.
“Well, if you want people to think you’re actually a research team, you’ll really want to make a presentation.”
Mary bit her lower lip and nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “And we really need to have people think we’re there for a reason. Okay, what the least amount of time?”
“I’ll put you down for a thirty-minute slot,” Kathi said, humor evident in her voice. “Um, would you like to do a PowerPoint presentation?”
“Not only no, but hell no,” Mary replied.
Kathi laughed. “Okay, your presenter information will be at the front desk on Monday morning, I can’t wait to see you.”
“You too,” Mary said. “And thanks, Kathi. Thanks a lot.”
Chapter Twelve
Mary parked her car on Stephenson Street, across the railroad tracks on the other side of the downtown area. It was early evening on Saturday night, and the area was deserted. Streetlights shone softly in the darkness, and the old, red brick depot stood alone next to the train tracks. The scheduled film shoot had been cancelled at Bradley’s insistence, and although he’d argued, Mary finally convinced him that she would be safe driving over to see if she could contact Midnight Mary on her own.
She locked her car and stepped up on the sidewalk.
“It’s a lovely night.”
Mary jumped at the sound of the voice and then turned to see that Gwen, Dee’s mother, had joined her.
Mary took a deep, calming breath and then nodded. “Yes it is,” she replied as she continued to walk toward the depot. “I’m surprised that you’re not with Dee.”
“Oh, he’s just fine, hidden up in the hotel with policemen guarding him,” she said. “It’s you I’m worried about now.”
Slowly looking around the area, Mary shrugged. “No one’s after me,” she said. “And I’ve got a job to do.”
Gwen smiled. “You must drive that husband of yours a little more crazy every day.”
Chuckling softly, Mary nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid I do,” she admitted. “He’s always—”
A blur of motion near the depot caught her eye and stopped her conversation. Mary quietly moved closer to the depot and could now clearly see the faded, translucent image of a woman dressed in black, looking up and down the tracks.
“What is she doing here?” Gwen asked.
“You can see her?” Mary replied, surprised.
Nodding, Gwen moved up closer to Mary. “Am I not supposed to be able to see her?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” Mary said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a situation like this.”
“Is she Midnight Mary?” Gwen asked.
“I think so,” Mary said. “She fits the description.”
Mary walked towards her.
“Wait! What are you doing?” Gwen whispered frantically.
“I’m going to talk to her.”
“But she’s a ghost,” Gwen said.
Mary stopped for just a second and turned to Gwen. “And so are you,” she said.
Gwen paused for a moment. “Oh. Yes. I am. I guess I forgot,” she replied wryly. “But she could be dangerous.”
“If we let fear determine all of our decisions,” Mary said as she moved closer to the depot, “we lose a lot of opportunities for joy.”
Gwen scuttled after her. “Did you read that in a greeting card?” she whispered.
Mary grinned. “No, it’s something my mother used to say.”
Sighing, Gwen nodded. “A wise woman.”
“A brave woman,” Mary replied.
She walked up to the older, black woman dressed in a black overcoat and wearing a well-worn black hat. “Hello,” Mary said. “My name’s Mary.”
The elderly woman met Mary’s eyes. “Has the train come in?”
Mary shook her head. “No. No, it hasn’t arrived yet,” she said.
“My son. My son’s coming home,” the woman said, her eyes glistening with tears. “I’ve been waiting for him for so long. But he’s coming home. I know it.”
“Perhaps he’s waiting for you somewhere else,” Mary suggested.
The woman shook her head. “No! He promised me that he would be coming home on the train once the war ended,” she said adamantly. “He wouldn’t lie to his momma.”
“Well, maybe things happened,” Mary said. “Things out of his control.”
“No,” the woman repeated. “No, he’s coming home. He’s getting off this train, and he’s coming home with me.”
“If you would just look around,” Mary pleaded. “Just look around and see a bright light.”
The old woman shook her head slowly. “Child, I’ve seen that light. But I ain’t going anywhere near it until I have my boy in my arms,” she said softly, a translucent tear slowly traveling down her wrinkled cheek. “You understand.”
The sorrow the woman felt washed over Mary, and with tears in her own eyes, she nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do,” she whispered.
With a sad smile, the woman nodded and then slowly faded away in front of them.
“Oh my, how terribly sad,” Gwen whispered hoarsely as she dabbed at the tears in her own eyes.
Mary wiped the tears from her own cheeks and nodded. “Yes, it is.”
Chapter Thirteen
Mary woke up and was slightly disoriented. She looked across the bed and saw that Bradley was already up. Then she looked at her phone and gasped. It was already 8:30. Everyone was late.
She pushed herself quickly out of bed, grabbed her robe and hurried towards the door. With one arm halfway into the robe, she stopped when the door opened before her.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Bradley said, carrying a small tray that had a cup of tea, a muffin and a carton of yogurt. “I thought you deserved breakfast in bed.”
She shook her head in confusion. “But we’re late,” she stammered. “We’re all late.”
“Mary,” Bradley said, trying not to smile. “It’s Sunday.”
A sigh of relief escaped Mary’s lips, and she moved back and leaned against the bed. “It’s Sunday,” she repeated with a smile. “I’m not late. I don’t have to go anywhere.”
“Except back up in bed,” he said. “Because if you don’t, the whole breakfast-in-bed thing is ruined.”
She grinned, tossed her robe on top of the blankets and climbed back into bed, fluffing up her pillows at the headboard and sitting up against them. “Who am I to ruin a breakfast-in-bed thing?” she asked happily.
He started to place the tray on her lap but paused when he realized that her lap was really taken up by her pregnancy. “How about if I just put this tray down next to you on the bed,” he suggested.
Her smile widened. “Good idea,” she replied.
He set the tray down and then bent to kiss her, but she lifted her hand up and stopped him. “Um, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” she admitted, her nose scrunched in disgust. “I’m gross.”
He moved slightly and placed the kiss on her cheek. “How’s that?” he asked.
“Better,” she said. “Much better.”
She picked up the muffin, started to peel the paper wrapper from the bottom and then looked over at him. “It’s Sunday,” she said as she cocked her head to
the side. “Why are you out of bed and dressed so early?”
He grinned. “I see I can’t pull one over on you,” he replied. “While you were out last night, I was making some calls of my own.”
“Calls?”
“Do you remember Wyatt Hermann?” Bradley asked.
“Sure,” Mary replied, taking a bite from the muffin. “He does the oldies show at the radio station, right?”
“Right,” Bradley replied. “And he’s the founder of NISE.”
“Nice?” Mary asked, confused.
Smiling, he shook his head. “No, NISE, Northern Illinois Supernatural Exploration.”
“Oh, NISE,” Mary replied shaking her head, a grin on her face.
“Exactly,” Bradley said. “And he is letting us borrow some of his equipment for the conference.”
“Wow! That’s…” she paused and smiled at Bradley, “nice?”
“Really nice!” Bradley said with a chuckle. “He had to work the early shift, so I got up even earlier and met him.”
“You’ve already been out of the house?”
He bent over again and kissed her forehead. “Yes, sleepy head, I have,” he said. “And, Rosie and Stanley will be over in about an hour so we can check out the equipment.”
“This is so cool,” Mary replied, taking another bite of muffin. “We have ghost hunting equipment. I’ve never used ghost hunting equipment.”
Bradley shook his head. “Well, it’s kind of redundant when you can actually see and talk to the ghosts,” he said.
She sighed. “Okay, maybe that’s why I’ve never used ghost hunting equipment,” she replied with a smile. “Good point.”
“But I figured we’d probably want to go with the ‘ghost hunting equipment’ angle for the conference rather than the ‘my wife can see ghosts’ angle,” he said.
Nodding slowly, she studied her husband thoughtfully. “Does this mean I get to wear a proton pack?” she asked.
“No. No it doesn’t,” he replied. “But it does mean that you will be able to use a EVP Band Wrist Recorder.”
“Get out of town,” she replied. “An EVP recorder that I can wear on my wrist? Like Dick Tracy’s two-way wrist radio?”
“Exactly,” Bradley said. “Except that it’s only one-way and only dead people can talk to you through it.”
“So cool!” Mary replied, sliding out of bed and hurrying toward the bathroom.
“Wait. You haven’t finished your breakfast,” Bradley called after her.
“I’m too excited to eat,” she said as she slipped into the bathroom. “I want to hurry and get dressed so I can try out all the cool equipment.”
Bradley picked up the half-finished muffin and bit into it. “I guess I should have known,” he muttered.
“What?” Mary called from the shower.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing at all,” he replied, retrieving the tray from the bed. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
“Okay,” she called back. “I just can’t wait! I bet Stanley’s going to be so excited.”
Chapter Fourteen
“So, what’s up?” Mike asked, appearing next to Bradley on the staircase.
Startled, Bradley nearly dropped the tray. “I wish you would warn me before you do that,” he said.
“Oh, sorry,” Mike said, and then he disappeared before Bradley’s eyes.
Suddenly the sound of trumpets echoed through the house. Bradley shook his head and laughed. “Everyone’s a smart aleck in this house,” he muttered.
“Daddy,” Clarissa called from the living room, “turn down your stereo, please. I’m watching my show.”
Mike appeared next to Bradley and grinned. “Is that better?”
Still chuckling, Bradley nodded. “Oh, yeah, much, much better.”
They walked down the stairs into the kitchen, and Bradley put the tray down on the counter. “I borrowed some ghost hunting equipment from Wyatt,” he explained.
“Proton packs?” Mike asked, excited.
Shaking his head, Bradley put the cup of tea into the sink and then turned back to Mike. “What is it with you people?” he asked. “There’s no such thing as a proton pack.”
“Sure there is,” Mike replied with a grin, “but because it’s an unlicensed nuclear accelerator, it’s a little tricky to get one.”
Bradley sighed. “So,” he said firmly, “I borrowed some regular, run-of-the-mill equipment from Wyatt for use on this case.”
They walked over to the dining room table where Bradley had placed the large case of devices. He picked up the first one. “This is an EMF reader,” he explained. “It detects spikes in electromagnetic energy that can signify either paranormal activity in the area or that a ghost wants to communicate with you.”
“Cool,” Mike said.
“The lights indicate the power of the energy,” Bradley explained. “They light up from left to right as the paranormal experience gets stronger.”
“Can I try it?” Mike asked.
“Sure,” Bradley said, turning the meter on and handing it to Mike. “Here you go.”
Mike took the meter in his hands, and immediately all of the lights flashed to the highest level. He turned around slowly. “It’s picking up on something,” he said, slowly walking back toward the kitchen. “There’s something in this room.”
“Um, Mike,” Bradley said.
“Shhhhh,” Mike replied, waving his hand toward Bradley. “This is awesome. And no matter where I go, I’m getting off the chart readings.”
“Um, Mike,” Bradley repeated.
Mike turned back around and brought it towards Bradley, shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “Maybe the meter’s off. It keeps reading off the charts, but I don’t see anything.”
“Well,” Bradley tried again, “perhaps it’s picking up an EMF reading from the paranormal entity who’s holding it.”
“What?” Mike asked, confused at first. And then it dawned on him, and he laughed. “Oh, yeah, me. I guess it would be picking up on me.”
“I guess,” Bradley replied.
Mike put the device back down on the table. “Well, that stinks,” he said. “If it’s going to pick me up, how am I going to be able to tell if there’s another paranormal entity in the room?”
Bradley stared at him for a moment. “Mike, aren’t you able to see the other paranormal entities in the room?” he asked.
Mike thought about it for another moment and then grinned. “Oh, yeah, I guess I can,” he said, and then he shook his head. “But so can Mary. So why do you need this stuff?”
“Only for show,” Bradley said. “Only for show.”
“What’s only for show?” Mary asked, coming down the stairs.
“I was just showing the gear to Mike,” Bradley explained.
Mary came over to them and picked up the EMF meter and turned it on. Instantly the lights sprang to life, indicating strong energy. “This is great,” Mary said, looking around the room. “There’s something here. Something in the room.”
Mike and Bradley exchanged knowing smiles.
“I’m thinking that might be me,” Mike offered.
Mary paused for a moment and then laughed. “I’m thinking you’re exactly right,” she agreed. Then she turned to the table. “So what other cool stuff do we have?”
Chapter Fifteen
“I don’t need any of that dang, fancy-schmancy tomfoolery,” Stanley insisted when Bradley showed him the borrowed equipment.
“Stanley, we want to look like a professional ghost hunting organization,” Mary said. “We need up-to-date equipment.”
“I ain’t arguing that we need equipment,” Stanley said. “I’m just arguing that we don’t need all that stuff when this simple device will be better than it all.” Then Stanley reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.
“Your cell phone?” Bradley asked. “You’re going to call the ghosts?”
Stanley sent Bradley a sour look. �
�No, I ain’t calling the dead,” he grumbled. “This here is a smart phone, and you can download these thingies called apps.”
Bradley nodded. “Really? Apps?” he said, feigning ignorance. “I think I might have heard something about them, somewhere.”
“Did you know that these apps are free?” Stanley continued. “Actually free. And you can use them just like this here expensive equipment.”
“But they don’t always work as well as this equipment,” Mary reasoned.
“Nonsense,” Stanley argued. “That’s just what the folks that want you to buy their equipment say. These apps have been tested. Thoroughly.”
“How did they test them?” Bradley asked.
Stanley paused and contemplated Bradley’s question. “Well,” he said, scratching the side of his neck. “I don’t exactly know. But it says right on the description that it’s been tested and ghost-hunter approved.”
“Well then,” Bradley replied sarcastically. “If they say it, it must be true.”
“Well, why don’t we just test it ourselves,” Stanley insisted, “iffen you think you’re so smart.”
Bradley nodded. “Okay, let’s.”
Stanley accessed the app and waited for it to upload. “Okay, it’s ready,” he said.
“What does it do?” Mary asked.
“It can hear what ghosts are saying, and then it repeats the words,” Stanley said.
Mike walked over to Bradley. “Let me try,” he said.
Bradley looked over and nodded at him.
Mike glided across the room and stood next to an unsuspecting Stanley. He bent over and spoke into the smart phone. “Pizza,” Mike called out.
“Dead,” the phone intoned.
Stanley nodded happily. “See, the ghost is trying to tell us that he’s dead,” Stanley said.
“Wouldn’t we kind of know that?” Bradley asked. “Seeing it’s a ghost?”
Frowning, Stanley glared at Bradley. “Maybe the ghost knows he’s got to be obvious because some people in the room might just be a little slower than others.”
