Buried Innocence - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery - Book Thirteen (Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series)

by Reid, Terri

  “I’d really rather not,” she said honestly. “But if you want me to, I will.”

  “I won’t like it, will I?” he asked.

  She shrugged again. “Well, it just depends on whether or not you believe in ghosts,” she replied.

  “Is honesty the best policy?” Mike wondered aloud. “I guess we’re going to find out.”

  He stared at her a moment longer, thought about it, sighed, and then turned back to his keyboard and entered the information. “Deceased, unknown,” he said as he typed.

  Keeping an eye on Mary, he surreptitiously slipped his left hand under the counter and pressed a small button mounted on the underside of the counter. Then, in plain sight, he moved the mouse over the search button, clicked and turned to Mary. “Now all we have to do is wait,” he said.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “How long are we going to have to wait?” Joey Amoretti growled softly as he and his wife, Gigi, sat in the run-down diner on the edge of Clinton.

  Gigi reached across the table, for all intents and purposes looking like a loving and concerned wife, and placed her hand on top of her husband’s. Squeezing tightly and embedding a fingernail into his fleshy palm, she smiled tightly. “People are watching us, sweetheart,” she said softly, placing special emphasis on the last word. “We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves.”

  He returned the smile and endured the pain. “You’re right, darling,” he replied softly. “I was merely concerned about their safety.”

  Finally, the door at the far end of the room opened and a young, very flustered looking couple darted into the diner. They scanned the room quickly, and when they saw Joey and Gigi, a glimmer of relief raced across their faces. Hands clasped together, they hurried across the room towards the Amoretti table.

  “They didn’t bring the kid,” Joey whispered through tightened lips. “What the hell?”

  “Shhhh, Pastor Amoretti,” Gigi warned.

  The couple pulled up chairs. “I’m so sorry we’re late,” the woman explained, her voice breathy. “It’s been one of those days.”

  “Oh my dear, I hope everything is fine,” Gigi said, a slight southern accent coloring her words.

  The woman nodded. “Yes, we’re fine…now,” she replied. “We had another issue with Nadia, our daughter. She overheard us discussing her re-homing, and she ran away.”

  “Ran away?” Joey exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his chair.

  “Darling,” Gigi said, putting her hand on Joey’s arm. “I know you’re concerned about the young woman, but I’m sure her parents would not be here with us unless she was safe.”

  She turned and smiled at the young couple. “He is so concerned about the youth of our country,” she explained. “She is fine, isn’t she?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” the young man said. “We found her walking towards the bus station. We put her in the car and brought her back home.”

  Joey clenched his fists under the table, trying to maintain his composure. “But aren’t you afraid she’ll run again?” he asked, controlling his voice so it merely sounded concerned.

  The young woman shook her head. “No, because we promised her that we would postpone our decision to re-home her,” she said. “It seems she really does care for us. She just has a difficult time showing her true feelings.”

  “But we had an agreement,” Joey said, his teeth clenched in a smile as he contemplated the loss of income this young woman would have provided. “I was so looking forward to bringing this troubled child into our fold.”

  “Well, it’s just not going to happen,” the young man replied, protectively placing his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “We came here to let you know that we are going to keep Nadia.”

  Joey took a deep breath, his face becoming slightly mottled as he tried to contain his anger. “You do realize, young man, that the authorities don’t look kindly on people who don’t honor their contracts,” he said, leaning forward over the table and lowering his voice menacingly. “And DCFS doesn’t approve of families who are willing to give their children away.”

  “Well, I’m sure that if the authorities come and visit us about Nadia, we will be sure to tell them about the good minister and his wife who are willing to take in a number of wayward children,” the young man replied, coldly meeting Joey’s eyes. “They might want to interview some of those children just to be sure everything is as joyful as you profess.”

  Joey slowly sat back in his chair, trying not to let the young father see the fear beating in his heart. “I am simply concerned about Nadia,” he said, a smile spreading across his face while he nervously smoothed his moustache. “I just want you…both of you…to be sure you still want the responsibility of raising this troubled child.”

  “Yes. Yes, we do,” the young mother said, smiling at Joey. “Thank you for your concern. But we understand now that we just needed to slow down and try to understand each other. And you will be happy to know that if not for your intercession, we would have never had the chance to truly understand our daughter.”

  “Well, isn’t that wonderful, dear,” Gigi inserted before Joey could say another word. “It’s as if we were sent to you from God to strengthen your little family. And we are so pleased to have been employed as angelic messengers to bless your lives.”

  The young father rolled his eyes as he sat back in his chair. “Well, bottom line,” he said. “We’re keeping Nadia. We appreciate your offer, but the deal is off.”

  “Well, we couldn’t be happier,” Gigi said, reaching across the table and clasping the young man’s hand in both of hers. “I can tell by the light in your eyes that you love your daughter, and truly, that fills our hearts with joy.”

  Pulling her hands back, she placed her hand on her husband’s shoulder and stood up. “Well, we shouldn’t be keeping you away from your child any longer,” she said. “God Bless You. Come along, dear. Our work here is done.”

  “Yeah, God Bless you,” Joey muttered, getting to his feet. “I hope your family will be very happy.”

  “We will,” the young man said.

  Gigi slipped her arm through Joey’s and pulled him away from the table before he could reply.

  “Little prick,” Joey muttered as they walked to the door.

  “Shut up, Joey,” Gigi whispered sharply. “We’ve got to get out of the damn parking lot before they think about writing down our license plate and giving that to the cops.”

  Joey glanced over his shoulder to see the young man watching them with suspicious eyes. “Let’s get the hell outta here.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mary tried not to tap her fingers on the countertop as she waited for the search engine to come up with results. The young police officer sat calmly at his desk systematically flipping through a stack of mail and placing it in mail slots on the wall.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Mike said.

  “I’m sure we’ll be getting an answer in just a minute,” the desk officer said as he moved away from her to the back of the room. “The system has been slow lately.”

  Mary nodded and smiled brightly. “No problem,” she said. “I appreciate your help.”

  The door opened behind her, and Mary was surprised to see two uniformed officers with their guns drawn entering the area.

  “Whoa,” Mike said. “I guess honesty is not the best policy.”

  Mary pressed her back against the counter, keeping her hands in plain view. “Um, I think there’s been a mistake,” Mary said.

  “She said that a missing person was dead but no one else would know it,” the officer reported. “She admitted that she killed him.”

  “I did not,” Mary argued.

  “You asked me if I believed in ghosts,” he said. “That means you killed him.”

  “No, that means I saw his ghost,” Mary replied.

  “Ma’am?” one of the officers asked. “Did you really say you saw his ghost?”

  “Mary, think befo
re you speak,” Mike cautioned, looking back and forth between Mary and the two police officers with guns.

  Exhaling slowly, Mary met the officer’s eyes. “Yes, officer, I did say that,” she replied. “And, unfortunately, he could not remember his last name.”

  “That’s not really what I meant,” Mike exclaimed. “These guys have guns, Mary.”

  The door opened again, and this time a woman dressed in a white polo shirt and navy blue slacks with a gold badge on her belt walked in. She quickly glanced around the room and then took a good look at Mary. “Aren’t you Chief Alden’s wife, from Freeport?” she asked.

  “Oh, good, the cavalry,” Mike said.

  Mary nodded. “Guilty as charged, Chief Chase.”

  “And didn’t you used to be a Chicago police officer?” she continued.

  “Yes, I was,” Mary answered.

  “So would you mind explaining to me what’s going on here?” she asked and then turned to her officers. “I think you can put away your weapons, officers. I can personally vouch for Mrs. Alden.”

  “Finally, someone with a little sense,” Mike said, and then he studied the chief’s face. “Wait, I think I know her.”

  The officers quickly holstered their weapons and stood at ease. Then the chief turned back to Mary. “You were going to explain.”

  “I believe your desk officer got the wrong impression from an answer I gave him when he was doing a missing persons search for me,” she said. “He thought I had killed the subject.”

  “And why would he think that?” she asked.

  “Because when he asked me if the subject was deceased, I told him that he was but his records wouldn’t show it.”

  “And how did you come by that information?” she asked.

  Mary sighed softly. “I saw his ghost,” she said.

  Mike groaned loudly. “Really, Mary?” he said. “Did you not remember that answer has not really worked twice today?”

  Chief Chase studied Mary for a moment without saying a word. Finally, she nodded. “Why don’t you join me in my office, Mrs. Alden,” she suggested. “And we can discuss this in private.”

  “Could I get the search results before we leave?” Mary asked.

  Chief Chase shook her head. “No, we’ll leave those here for now,” she said.

  Mary followed the chief down a narrow hall to her office. The room was not as large as Bradley’s office, and the equipment not nearly as new. But Mary realized Galena had a fraction of the population of Freeport.

  “Please, have a chair,” Chief Chase offered, pointing to a very uncomfortable-looking metal chair with rust-colored plastic cushions on the other side of her desk.

  Mary complied immediately, folding her hands on her lap and patiently waiting for the first question.

  “So you believe you can see ghosts?” the chief asked.

  Mary shook her head slightly and saw the look of relief of the chief’s face. “No, I don’t just believe I can see ghosts,” Mary replied. “I can see ghosts.”

  “Yeah, good job, Mary,” Mike said, slipping through the wall and standing next to Mary. “Always stay with a winning strategy.”

  Chief Chase sat back in her chair and studied Mary’s calm face. “That’s an unusual response,” she finally said.

  Mary smiled. “Yes, it is,” she said. “And I know what most people think when they find out about my…unique ability. And believe me, there have been many times in my life when I would much rather not have this particular gift, but that’s the way it goes.”

  “I’ve got it,” Mike said. “I do know her. I dated her.”

  Surprised, Mary turned to Mike. “You dated her?” she asked, and then, recalling where she was, she covered her mouth with her hands.

  “I’m sorry?” the chief asked. “Who were you just speaking with?”

  “Um, this might sound strange, but do remember Mike Richards?” she asked. “He was a fireman in Freeport.”

  “Yes, I remember Mike,” she said, the pleasant look on her face darkening. “We dated a few times, and then he never returned my call.”

  Mary turned to Mike, a look of astonishment on her face. “Really?” she asked.

  She turned back to the woman across the desk from her. “Actually, you might not have heard,” she said. “But Mike died a couple of years ago.”

  The chief stood up. “Mike’s dead?” she exclaimed. “No, I didn’t know.”

  Mary nodded. “It actually turned out that he was murdered,” she said. “Poisoned.”

  “So that’s why he never called me?” she asked.

  “Yeah, not really,” Mike replied. “But we can sure tell her that to make her feel better.”

  “Mike is here, right now,” Mary said. “And he told me that I can tell you that his death was the reason he didn’t call you.”

  “Way to lie without lying, Mary,” Mike said, clapping his hands.

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Chief Chase asked.

  “Her first name is Chelsea. She likes old movies, and she has a tiny heart tattoo on her left cheek,” he said with a fond smile.

  Mary looked at the woman across from her. “She doesn’t have a tattoo on her cheek,”

  Chelsea turned bright red, and Mike chuckled. “Her other cheeks, Mary,” he explained.

  “Oh,” Mary said, biting her lower lip in embarrassment and looking at Chelsea. “I’m sorry. That was embarrassing.”

  “How did you know about my…,” she paused for a moment and cleared her throat. “My tattoo?”

  “Mike told me,” she replied. “He told me that your first name is Chelsea, although I could have remembered that from the first time we met. I didn’t, sorry, but that really doesn’t prove anything. He said you like old movies, and he told me about your tattoo.”

  “Ask him where he took me for our first date,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and raising her eyebrow in challenge.

  “So, Mike, where did you take her?” Mary asked.

  “I hate those kinds of questions, Mary,” he complained. “Why do all women think that men can remember stuff like that?”

  “Think, Mike, it’s important,” Mary urged him.

  “What color dress did I wear when you first saw me?” Mike asked in falsetto. “How did I do my hair? No one gives a guy credit for remembering a girl’s name.”

  “Mike, you don’t get points for remembering a woman’s name,” Mary lectured. “A woman wants to think she was memorable, not just another flash in the pan. I can’t believe you don’t remember your first date with her.”

  Chelsea’s mouth dropped open, and she stared at Mary. “It would be just like him to forget where we went.”

  “Well, I remember that we had ribs together and you let me lick the sauce off your—”

  “Mike, too much information,” Mary called, and then she turned to Chelsea. “He does remember you ate ribs together, and it got messy.”

  Chelsea nodded and sighed softly. “Good old Mike.”

  “Yeah, good old Mike,” Mary agreed. “So, Chelsea, how about those search results?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  A ringing sound from her purse stopped Mary mid-stride as she walked back down Main Street in Galena. Stepping to the side, she glanced down to the small pocket on the outside of her purse, specifically designed to hold her phone. Of course it was empty. “Crap,” she muttered, opening her filled purse to begin the frantic search. Guided by the ringing and the vibration, she was finally able to find it beneath her billfold. Quickly swiping her finger across the front to answer the call, she held the phone to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  “You forgot to put your phone back in its little pocket, didn’t you?” Bradley asked, a smile in his voice.

  Sighing, she nodded. “Yeah, I was in a hurry, so I just dumped it into my purse.”

  “And you’ve already found it,” he replied. “I’m impressed.”

  “Bradley,” she said.

  �
�Yes, Mary?”

  “Shut up,” she said, grinning into the phone.

  “Before I shut up can I tell you I got an address in Dubuque?” he asked.

  “You got an address for Liza’s parents?” she exclaimed. “That’s fantastic. What is it?”

  Mary waited a moment for Bradley to respond. “Bradley?” she urged.

  “So here’s the deal,” he finally said. “I’m taking the afternoon off, and I’ll meet you in Galena. Then we will drive together to Dubuque and meet with this family.”

  “But—” she began.

  “No buts,” he interrupted. “We have no idea who these people are and what part they played in Liza’s death. It’s just too dangerous for you to go there alone.”

  He took a deep breath and waited for her argument.

  She thought about it, thought about arguing that she was a professional and could handle things. She thought about how many times as a Chicago police officer she’d knocked on doors far more dangerous than this one potentially was. She thought about the fact that she would have to wait for forty-five minutes before he could even reach Galena. And then she thought about the pain and worry she’d seen in his eyes that morning. He wasn’t questioning her abilities. He just needed to protect her.

  “Bradley,” she finally said.

  “Yes, Mary.”

  “I’ll call Katie and let her know we’ll be picking up Clarissa a little late today,” she said.

  She heard him release the breath he’d been holding. “Great,” he replied. “I’ll leave right away.”

  “And Bradley,” she added.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for coming with me.”

  There was a slight pause on his end. “Thank you for understanding why I needed to do it.”

  She hung up the phone with a smile in her heart and placed it, carefully, back in the outside pocket of her purse.

  “So, we’ve got forty-five minutes to kill,” Mary said to Mike. “Pardon the pun. What should we do?”

  Mike glanced up the street. “Well, Amelia’s been waving at you for the past five minutes,” he replied. “Maybe she’ll have a suggestion.”