by Reid, Terri
Buried Innocence
A MARY O’REILLY PARANORMAL MYSTERY
(Book Thirteen)
by
Terri Reid
“I didn’t give you the gift of life,
But in my heart I know.
The love I feel is deep and real,
As if it had been so.
For us to have each other
Is like a dream come true!
No, I didn’t give you
The gift of life,
Life gave me the gift of you.”
Unknown
This book is dedicated to my daughters-in-law, who have allowed the blessings of adoption to touch our lives and hearts, and enrich our family. I love you!
BURIED INNOCENCE – A MARY O’REILLY PARANORMAL MYSTERY
by
Terri Reid
Copyright © 2014 by Terri Reid
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/ use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
The author would like to thank all those who have contributed to the creation of this book: Richard Reid, Sarah Powers, Virginia Onines, Denise Carpenter, Juliette Wilson, Maureen Marella, Donna Basch of the Galena-Jo Daviess County Historical Society & U.S. Grant Museum and Hillary Gadd.
She would also like to thank all of the wonderful readers who walk with her through Mary and Bradley’s adventures and encourage her along the way. I hope we continue on this wonderful journey for a long time.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-one
Chapter Fifty-two
Chapter Fifty-three
Chapter Fifty-four
Prologue
Donna McIntyre’s old car chugged up the hill, straining as it climbed the cobblestoned street leading to her apartment. She leaned forward in the driver’s seat, willing the old, gas-guzzling Buick to keep moving. Glancing over to her son, Ryan, sitting in his car seat behind her, she smiled to herself as she saw he was leaning forward too. “We’ll make it, right?” she asked him.
He nodded and with his six-year old wisdom added. “It’s been a long day for Bertha. She’s just tired, Mommy.”
Donna had only spent $500 on Bertha Buick, and the car had been faithfully delivering them back and forth from their small apartment, to Ryan’s daycare and then to Donna’s workplace. She avoided adding any extra miles to Bertha’s day, but they had run out of groceries and so had added an extra ten miles to drive back and forth to the grocery store. “I know, sweetheart,” she agreed. “And she did a great job today. I promise once we park her for the night, she will be able to sleep for at least ten hours.”
“Then she’ll be happy,” Ryan said with a satisfied nod.
Bertha coughed a few times but eventually made it up the hill and into the parking spot next to their apartment building. “Good job,” Ryan said, patting the dashboard in front of him. “I’m very proud of you.”
Donna grinned. Ryan had used the same words and inflection she used when she encouraged him. It was great to know that he actually heard what she was saying. “Yes, Bertha did a great job,” she agreed. “And now we need to carry our groceries upstairs and let her take a nap.”
“I can help carry things,” Ryan volunteered. “I have strong muscles.”
“Excellent,” she said. “Let’s see if we can get everything in one trip.”
She got of the car, reached into the backseat and unhooked Ryan from his car seat, and then opened the trunk of the car for the groceries. There weren’t a lot of bags. Her tight budget only allowed for the necessities, but there were enough of the basics to keep them healthy and satisfy Ryan’s growing appetite. She pulled out the lightest bag and gave it to Ryan. “Can you carry this one?” she asked.
He hefted the bag close to his chest and smiled up at his mom. “I’ve got it,” he exclaimed with a wide smile. “See?”
She slipped her hands through the plastic openings in the bags and pulled the remaining eight bags from the back of the car. She tested and found them evenly balanced, then turned to Ryan. “You’re doing a great job,” she said to Ryan. “Now, can you hold on to my jacket, and we can walk together to the door, okay?”
Grabbing on to the hem of his mother’s jacket, he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”
They walked across the small parking lot to the front door. Donna was able to wedge open the door with her elbow and hold it open until Ryan was in. She looked up the steep staircase and sighed silently. Someday she was going to live on the first floor instead of the third one. Pasting a smile on her face, she turned to Ryan. “Ready for the climb up the mountain?” she asked.
Smiling and nodding, he moved to the staircase. “Maybe there will be snow on the top of the mountain,” he said, stepping up in front of her.
“Or maybe a mountain lion,” she replied, following him up.
“Or maybe a giant eagle,” he suggested as he climbed slowly up the stairs.
“Or maybe a wizard,” she added.
He nodded as he pulled himself up the stairs, using his free hand on the banister. “A wizard would be cool,” he said. “And maybe he could use magic, and we could fly up the stairs.”
“That would be cool,” Donna agreed. “And maybe he could turn our apartment into a palace.”
Ryan climbed a few more stairs, thinking about her comment before he responded. “But, Mom, if our apartment is turned into a palace, would Liza still be there?”
She smiled. Liza was Ryan’s imaginary friend, and he had been weaving amazing tales about conversations he had with her. She was pleased to see that he had such a great imagination. “Well, I’m sure Liza could come with us,” she agreed. “After all, she’s part of our family.”
“Yeah, Liza doesn’t have her own family anymore,” he replied thoughtfully.
They finally made it to their floor, and they walked over to the door. She unlocked it, pushed open the door and flipped on the light. “Why don’t you play for a few minutes while I put the groceries away and start dinner,” she suggested.
Ryan dropped the bag he was holding just inside the door and ran into the small living room. “I’m going to play school with Liza, okay?” he asked.
Bending to scoop up one more bag, Donna took a deep breath, willing the tiredness to go away and nodded. “That sounds great, sweetheart,” she said.
Placing the bags on the counter, she slipped off her jacket and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair. Then she pulled an apron over her work clothes and started unpacking the groceries, first putting the refrigerated foods away and then working on the canned goods. She smiled as she heard Ryan singing. It wasn’t a tune she was familiar with, so he must have learned it in daycare.
“Where did you learn that song?” she asked him, leaning over the open counter to listen more closely to the words.
“Liza taught it to me,” he said.
She smiled. “Well, say thank you to Liza for me,” she replied. “It’s a pretty song.”
He continued singing, “Who will wipe away my tears? Who will chase away my fears? Who will sing me to sleep at night? Who will tuck me in real tight? Now that Momma’s dead and gone, now that Momma’s dead and gone.”
Slightly alarmed at the lyrics, Donna walked around the counter and entered the living room. “How would you like to watch your favorite cartoon?” she asked, picking up a DVD on a shelf next to the television set and sliding it into the DVD player.
“But Liza still wants to sing,” Ryan said.
“Well, Liza can sing, and you can watch television,” she said. “How’s that for a compromise.”
He nodded. “I guess that will be fine.”
She turned on the television and waited until Ryan’s show started before returning to the kitchen to put away the rest of the groceries. She opened up a cupboard and was reaching up to the top shelf to put an extra jar of peanut butter away when she heard the soft voice behind her. It was high-pitched, like a little girl’s voice, but it held an ethereal quality to it as it filled the kitchen.
“Who will wipe away my tears? Who will chase away my fears? Who will sing me to sleep at night? Who will tuck me in real tight? Now that Momma’s dead and gone, now that Momma’s dead and gone.”
Donna’s heart was pounding, and her hands clutched the countertop. She was breathing heavily and was too frightened to move. Suddenly she felt a cold wash of air on her neck, and she held her breath.
“Momma’s dead and gone,” the ghostly voice whispered in her ear. “Dead and gone.”
Chapter One
Mary O’Reilly was just finishing up a long day of paperwork at the office. Her desk was filled with an odd assortment of items: an opened and half-eaten sleeve of saltine crackers, a jar of peanut butter with a knife sticking out of the top, some slices of cheese, a jar of olives, some pieces of dark chocolate, a laptop with a spreadsheet program open, a large pile of assorted receipts, several files stuffed with paperwork, a bank statement, and a lit scented candle that smelled like evergreens.
But instead of working on accounting, she was absorbed with the computer screen in front of her. Mike appeared on the other side of her desk and sat in the chair.
“What’s so interesting?” he asked casually.
Mary jumped and then looked around her monitor to the guardian angel. “I really wish you would knock or something,” she said.
“You would think having ghosts appear to you at all times of the day or night would have cured you of being jumpy,” he replied. “So, what are you looking at?”
“My horoscope,” she said, lowering her voice in embarrassment and hiding back behind her monitor.
“Your horoscope?” he asked. “You don’t believe in that stuff, do you?”
She peeked out again. “Well, most people don’t believe in ghosts, and you can see how wrong they are,” she argued. “Besides, I don’t really believe in them. I just check them every so often. Just in case.”
“Just in case of what?”
“Just in case they are true,” she admitted sheepishly.
Laughing, he leaned back in the chair. “So, what’s up in your horoscope?” he asked.
She shook her head and glanced at the screen again. “It’s not good,” she said, and then she read from the screen. “Caution is the key word for this week. The alignment of the planets for your sign set up a situation where bad luck could be the dominating force. Avoid tempting the fates. A black cat could be in your future.”
“Wow, you’re right,” Mike replied. “You sit there, and I’ll call Bradley to come and get you. We’ll wrap you in bubble-wrap, and you can stay in your bedroom all week. Okay?”
“No one likes a smart-aleck,” she said, wrinkling up her nose at him. “Fine, I’ll just go back to work and not worry about my impending doom.”
Popping an olive into her mouth, she picked up the receipt on the top of the file and looked it over. “Okay, May 15th, fifteen pounds of garlic,” she said slowly. “Why did I buy fifteen pounds of garlic? And why did I consider it a business expense?”
“That was for the group that thought their ghost was also a vampire,” Mike replied, the hint of a smile in his voice. “The only way they were going to let you investigate is if you wore a necklace of garlic, and, once they found out you were pregnant, you also wore a belt of garlic around your waist.”
Mary nodded at him in a perfunctory manner. “Of course, that makes perfect sense,” she said, adding the amount to the correct column in the spreadsheet. “Thank you, Michael.”
“You are welcome, Mrs. Alden,” he chuckled as he shook his head. He then took the time to examine the snacks she had scattered over her desk. “Looking at the assortment on your desk, if I had a stomach, I know I’d be sick to it.”
Mary looked up at him and grinned. “I know. My tastes have certainly become eclectic,” she admitted. “And you don’t even want to look in the refrigerator.”
“I thought the whole thing with pregnancy and weird cravings was an urban myth,” he said.
Mary pulled another olive out of the jar and then absently smeared peanut butter on it before popping it into her mouth. “Yeah, me too,” she said, picking up another receipt and studying it.
Mike shuddered. “Do you know what you just ate?” he asked with disgust.
Turning to him, confusion on her face, she shook her head. “What?”
“Never mind,” he replied, moving his chair farther away from her. “So, are you going home soon?”
“Well, Bradley and Clarissa have an appointment with Dr. Springler this afternoon, and then they are going to go out for dinner together,” she said. “Kind of a daddy-daughter date. So, this is the perfect time for me to go through my paperwork before I forget why I bought this stuff.”
M
ike leaned forward in the chair and studied her. “How are you feeling about things at home?” he asked.
She put the receipt down and turned her full attention to Mike. “Actually, I feel great,” she admitted. “The food I’m eating is actually staying down. I’ve moved past my first trimester, so things are less scary for me. Clarissa seems to be responding really well to therapy. Bradley…well, Bradley is a little overprotective. But I get that, so I’m putting up with it.”
She grinned. “And then I’ve got this great guardian angel who checks in on me…” she glanced over to the clock on the wall, “about every two and a half hours. It’s endearing but getting slightly annoying.”
Mike smiled sheepishly. “I was trying to cut back to every three hours,” he admitted. “But I just get worried. This is my first pregnancy.”
Shaking her head, she sat back in her chair. “I promise that I won’t let anything important happen without calling you first,” she said. “But in the meantime, I really need to get some work done. And with all these interruptions—”
The tone of her cell phone interrupted her, and sighing dramatically, she reached over to answer it.
“Mary O’Reilly.”
She paused for a moment, and a smile spread across her face. “Amelia, it’s good to hear from you,” she said. “How’s the ghost tour business going?”
Amelia was the owner of the popular and thriving Amelia’s Ghost Tours in Galena, Illinois, a town about 45 minutes to the west of Freeport. Mary had met Amelia when she was in Galena looking for unique furnishings for her home when she first moved to Freeport. She caught sight of the store name and just had to go in. They became friends immediately.
“Business is great,” Amelia replied. “But I’ve got something a little more paranormal than I’m equipped to handle. I know it’s late, but do you think you could drive to Galena tonight?”
Mary glanced up at the clock. It was nearly five-thirty, but she could be there in an hour. “Sure, I can be there by six-thirty,” she said. “Do you want to fill me in before I get there?”
Amelia paused for a moment. “No,” she finally replied. “I think I’ll let the woman sitting in my store tell you her own story. Then you can get her vibe on your own.”
