Good Tidings - a Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery

by Terri Reid

  “Take it easy, Sonny,” a woman’s petulant voice responded. “I ain’t no racehorse.”

  Mary slowly turned her head and opened her eyes. Platinum blonde hair shared her pillow. Looking up she saw the flaccid naked man looming above her, his forehead covered in sweat. He looked down at Mary and smiled. “You want a turn, baby?”

  Mary rolled out of bed and hit the floor with a loud thump. Scooting backwards across the room, she heard the shrill laughter of the two ghosts echo in her ears. When she hit the wall, she jumped up and bolted towards the door. She wrenched the door open and ran straight into Bradley who had woken immediately when he heard the thump from her room.

  Bradley caught Mary to him, and moved to shelter her from whatever had frightened her. With Mary in his arms, he had a complete view of what was going on in her room. He couldn’t help himself, he laughed.

  “It’s not funny,” Mary punched him, her head still buried in his chest.

  “No, of course, not,” he said, still peering into the room. “It’s more disturbing than anything else.”

  “Bradley, stop watching, that’s disgusting,” she said.

  He shrugged. “It’s kind of like a train wreck,” he said. “You can’t help yourself.”

  Suddenly Mary’s bedroom was riddled with the sound of Tommy-gun fire.

  “Well, now we know why they’re still here,” Bradley said, guiding Mary over to the couch. “You sit here and I’ll close the door.”

  He walked over to the bedroom door. Without Mary’s touch, all he saw was a hotel room with a slightly mussed bed. He was glad he didn’t have to view the bullet-riddled bodies of the lovers. Pulling the door closed, he turned and saw Mary sitting in the corner of the couch, her arms wrapped around her body.

  He grabbed his blanket and placed it around her, pulling her gently into his arms. “Sorry,” he said, “Not very sensitive of me to laugh. It must have been frightening to wake up with those two sharing your bed.”

  Mary nodded. “I was dreaming I was in a boat on a lake, rocking gently on the waves.”

  Bradley turned his head away.

  “Are you laughing at me?” Mary demanded.

  “Sweetheart, I am trying my best not to laugh,” he confessed.

  “Yeah, it was real funny when he asked me if I wanted a turn.”

  “He said what?” Bradley growled, he turned her to face him. “I thought they couldn’t connect if you didn’t respond to them.”

  Mary shook her head. “They can’t connect to me,” she said. “But they can see me and they can try to interact. They were very much aware I was in that room with them.”

  He tightened his hold around her. “Okay, we are quickly changing from funny to creepy,” he said. “How are you doing now?”

  She yawned. “Better, thanks.”

  She looked around the room, finally putting two and two together. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

  He shrugged. “The dog wanted the bed,” he said.

  “He can have mine,” she said, grinning.

  “Can ghost dogs bite ghost people?”

  “I’m willing to give it a shot.”

  “I have a better idea,” he said, grabbing one of the pillows and placing it on the arm of the couch where they sat. “You rest here for a while, then we’ll figure out the rest.”

  Too tired from several nights of no sleep to argue, Mary let Bradley lower her head to the pillow and stretched out along the couch, still held in his arms. “Why are you still holding me?”

  “So, I can keep the bad guys away,” he replied.

  “But how will you sleep?” she asked with a yawn.

  He lifted his feet onto the coffee table in front of him. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’ve slept in far worse positions than this.”

  A few minutes later, her even breathing told Bradley she had finally succumbed to sleep. He looked down at her and tenderly pushed her hair from her face. “Ahhh, Mary, what are we going to do with each other?”

  “Woof.”

  Looking over, he saw the Golden Retriever standing next to the couch, wagging its tail and eager for fun.

  “Do you want to play, fella?” Bradley whispered.

  The dog stretched his forepaws in front of him and wagged his tail harder. “Good boy,” he said. “Go get the ghosts in Mary’s room. Sic ‘em boy!”

  The dog cocked its head to the side for a moment, then grinned, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth and darted through the door into Mary’s room. The sounds of several ghosts yelling and a dog barking were music to his ears. “Good dog,” he whispered, before sliding down on the couch, pulling Mary closer and falling asleep himself.

  *****

  Chapter Sixteen

  A sharp knock on their hotel room door had Bradley rushing from the bathroom to open it before Mary woke up. With only a towel slung around his waist, he pulled the door open to see Sean standing in the doorway.

  “What the hell are you doing running around half-naked with my sister in the suite?” Sean asked.

  “Quiet, she’s still sleeping,” he said. “And if you hadn’t pounded on the door like a jackhammer, I might be a little more presentable.”

  Sean walked in and looked around the suite. Through the open door to Bradley’s room he could see the blankets and pillows had been stripped off. Glancing at the couch, he saw the missing items and his sister, snuggled up in them.

  “You playing sleep-over with my sister?” he growled.

  Bradley rolled his eyes and worked to control his temper.

  “Listen, big brother, you picked the most haunted hotel in Chicago for your sister to stay in, knowing damn well that she would be able to see what happened to make them ghosts,” he said. “Would you like to sleep in a bed with two people shot to death by a Tommy-gun?”

  Sean leaned back against the door, his face white. “Damn, I didn’t think,” he said. “I didn’t realize that she could see… I only thought she could…”

  “Yeah, well, she’s fine. She slept,” Bradley said, “But she had a rough night, so I thought she could sleep in for a while.”

  Sean nodded. “Good idea,” he said, “Thanks for taking care of her. I appreciate it.”

  Bradley glared at Sean. “I don’t give a damn what you appreciate. I take care of Mary because I want to.”

  Bradley walked away and closed his bedroom door behind him. He didn’t know who he was angrier with, Sean or himself. Sean should have never placed Mary in this kind of situation. And he needed to put some space between himself and Mary. He couldn’t have feelings for Mary until he knew whether Jeannine was alive or not. He leaned against the dresser and closed his eyes. Be honest, Bradley, he thought, you already have feelings for her and now you are going to have to figure out what to do about them.

  Mary woke slowly, her eyes adjusting to the brightness of the room. It took a moment for her to remember where she was and what she’d been doing when she fell asleep.

  Bradley.

  How do you walk that fine line between admiration and friendship, and love?

  She rubbed her hand over her heart. Damn, she’d crossed the line.

  She sighed. He wasn’t ready to love again; his heart was still attached to Jeannine. Well, crap, another secret I’ll have to keep to myself.

  She sat up and stretched.

  “Hey, sleepyhead, ‘bout time you woke up,” Sean’s voice rang across the room.

  She turned; disappointed it wasn’t Bradley greeting her.

  “Well, we had a little excitement last night,” she said. “So, I suppose Bradley let me sleep in.”

  Sean nodded. “Yeah, he told me about it,” he said.

  Everything? Mary wondered.

  “I’m sorry Mary, I wasn’t thinking when I booked you into this hotel,” he said, walking across the room and sitting on the back of the couch. “I didn’t realize you could see how people became ghosts.”

  He shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t thinking at a
ll,” he continued. “Seeing two people murdered in your bed must have been frightening.”

  Not everything, Mary breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Actually, Bradley got me out of there just before the gun fight,” she said, “so I didn’t have to see the worst of it.”

  “I don’t know, I think what you saw was pretty frightening,” Bradley said, slyly winking at her as he walked over to the small kitchenette and pulled a diet soda out of the refrigerator. “Breakfast?”

  She grinned. “Yes, thank you,” she answered. “How did you sleep?”

  He twisted the cap off the bottle and brought it over to her. “Best sleep I’ve had in ages,” he said, “except for some incessant snoring that I’m assuming must have been supernatural.”

  She blushed. “Snoring?”

  “Could have woke the dead,” he teased. “As a matter of fact, I think it did.”

  He cocked his head towards Mary’s bedroom. “Your new pet cleared the room last night and promptly made himself comfortable on your bed,” he said, sending her a teasing smile. “What? Did you think I meant you?”

  She shook her head and stood up. “You are such a jerk,” she said with a chuckle. “I’m going to go get dressed.”

  Once she closed the door behind her, Sean turned to Bradley. “Does she know about your wife?”

  Bradley walked back to the kitchenette and pulled out another diet soda, opened it and took a swig before he felt calm enough to answer Sean. “Look, I understand you’re her big brother,” he said, “but where do you get off investigating my background?”

  Sean shrugged. “She’s my sister who died in my arms,” he said, “On a stake-out I sanctioned. Taking a bullet meant for me. That’s where I get off.”

  Bradley dropped into the nearest seat. “Wow. Okay, she didn’t tell me that part,” he said.

  Sean shook his head. “She never does,” he said. “She just says she got shot, wrong place, wrong time.”

  Bradley nodded.

  “Well, if you throw yourself between a gunman and your brother, it’s not really considered wrong place, wrong time,” he said softly. “It’s called…

  His voice cracked.

  “It’s called giving everything for the people you love,” Bradley said.

  Sean nodded, unable to speak.

  “She knows about Jeannine,” Bradley said. “She knows as much as I do. I told her on the way in.”

  “Thanks,” Sean said. “Does she know you love her?”

  Bradley stood up. “That’s none of your damn business.”

  Sean grinned. “Yeah, but you answered my question,” he said. “Take care of her. She may not look like it, but she has a tender heart.”

  “I will do everything in my power to make sure she is never hurt,” Bradley said, “Which might entail never letting this relationship go beyond friendship.”

  “I suppose that’s good enough for now,” Sean said, standing and offering Bradley his hand.

  *****

  Chapter Seventeen

  ”Okay, you are supposed to look like a devoted husband and a man who is looking forward to becoming a father,” Mary explained, her breath coming out in puffs of steam as they walked down Michigan Avenue in the sub-freezing weather, “Not like a bad-ass cop who is going to rush in and save the day.”

  “But I am a bad-ass cop who’s going to rush in and save the day,” Bradley responded with a grin. “Besides wouldn’t Josh be a little skeptical?”

  Mary nodded. “Yes, a little,” she said. “But he wouldn’t let it show too much for Abby’s sake.”

  “Okay, so I’m slightly skeptical, but willing to forgo that for the woman I love?” he asked.

  “Pretty much,” Mary said, “Think you can handle it?”

  Bradley stopped walking, turned to Mary and placed his hands on her upper arms. “You mean everything to me,” he said softly, searching her eyes. “You are my heart, my soul and the reason I look forward to each day. You are simply the reason I live and breathe.”

  Mary swallowed, nodded her head and tried to quiet her wildly beating heart. “Okay, yes,” she whispered. “You can handle it.”

  “Not done yet,” Bradley said, pulling her closer.

  He bent his head so their foreheads touched. “There is an elderly couple just getting out of a cab in front of the Art Museum,” he said, “What do you think?”

  Like I can think.

  Mary peered around him and saw the couple. Then she saw Joey appearing next to them. “Joey just showed up,” she whispered back. “I think we have our couple. The creeps.”

  Bradley smiled and rubbed his hands up and down Mary’s arms, then pulled her close. Arms wrapped around her he bent his head and whispered into her ear, “Remember, you’re devoted wife who wants a baby and not a bad-ass private investigator ready to kick some kidnapper butt.”

  Mary chuckled into his shoulder. “Shut up.”

  He laughed. “That’s my girl.”

  They walked, hand in hand, into the museum, paying no attention to the elderly couple eyeing them. They stopped, a few feet away from the couple. Mary turned her face up to Bradley’s and sent him a watery smile. “I can’t believe we’re going to meet our baby,” she cried.

  Bradley traced a finger gently across her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “It’s a happy day,” he said, “you’re not supposed to cry.”

  “Tears of joy,” she said, raising up on her toes and brushing a soft kiss across his lips.

  Bradley caught her and held her for a moment, exhaling slowly while he searched her face. “Let’s go get our baby.”

  They walked up the massive marble stairs to the second floor and followed the signs to Gallery 240. They stood in front of the massive painting of a day in a French park, waiting for the elderly couple to make contact with them. They didn’t have to wait long.

  “Are you the Martins?” an elderly woman asked. Had Jeremy’s mother been there, she would have recognized the woman as the helpful grandmother from the store.

  Mary quickly turned around, smiled brightly. “Yes! Yes, I’m Abby Martins and this is my husband, Josh. Are you from the agency?”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, dear, we just have a few more papers to sign and details to go over.”

  Mary looked around the gallery. “But where is the baby?” she asked. “I thought we would be getting the baby today.”

  The woman shook her head. “No need to worry my dear,” she said. “Since the weather was so brutal and we still had these last details to attend to, we thought it best not to bring the baby out. As soon as we take care of these things, we’ll bring you the baby.”

  Mary let her eyes fill with tears and she clasped Bradley’s hand, turning her face into his shoulder. “It’s okay, darling,” he said, “I’m sure it’s just a formality.”

  He turned to the woman. “Is there a problem? Because if there is, I wish you had told us about it yesterday when we were on the phone with you,” he said. “This is really hard on my wife.”

  The woman smiled, “Oh, no. No problem,” she said. “You’re exactly right, merely a formality. Now, our records show we never received the $10,000 processing fee. Do you know if that was paid?”

  Bradley shook his head. “I never heard about a processing fee,” he said.

  “Oh, dear, I don’t know how that could have happened,” the woman said, shaking her head. “You didn’t receive the letter requesting the fee?”

  Mary turned back and shook her head. “No, we didn’t,” she said. “Oh, is that a problem?”

  The woman smiled sweetly, but Mary could see the avarice in her eyes. “Well, my dear, normally it would mean the baby should go to the next family on the list,” she explained.

  Mary crumpled against Bradley and he folded her into his arms.

  “Listen, I can write you a check right now,” he said urgently. “We have to have this baby. Abby has waited too long for this to happen.”

  The woman nodded. “Well, I’m not
supposed to do this,” she said. “But you seem like such a nice couple. Yes, if you can write me the check today, written on a local bank, we can get the baby to you this afternoon.”

  Bradley nodded and pulled out the checkbook Sean had provided for them. The checkbook fell from his hands onto the floor next to the woman. She smiled and picked it up, handing it back to Bradley.