Natural Reaction - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book 6)

by Terri Reid

  “Why don’t you and Ian sit down and help me eat some of this,” she suggested. “I generally don’t eat a half dozen eggs and six pieces of toast for breakfast.”

  “Are you sure?” Ian asked, pulling a couple of plates from the cabinet.

  She nodded. “Oh, yes, I’m completely sure.”

  The meal was accomplished without incident with the two men doing their best to make Mary laugh. They had both just settled Mary into the recliner, complete with a pillow for her back, fleece blanket for her feet and a cup of tea at her side, when the doorbell rang. Before anyone could answer, Stanley let himself in, followed closely by a disapproving Rosie.

  “Stanley, you just don’t walk into someone’s home,” Rosie said, turning to Stanley and not acknowledging anyone else in the room.

  “It ain’t just anyone’s home, it’s Mary’s,” he argued.

  “But, it’s not polite,” she replied.

  “I rang the bell first,” he said. “So iffen she was doing something she didn’t want us to see, she had a chance to stop.”

  Mary chuckled. “Please come in, I insist.”

  Stanley nodded his head smugly. “See, she insists.”

  Rosie sniffed. “Well, of course she did, she’s polite.”

  Both of the sassy senior citizens had become Mary’s best friends during the few years she had lived in Freeport. Stanley was the fifth generation owner of Wagner’s Office Products and Rosie was a successful Real Estate broker in Freeport. They had not only become an essential part of Mary’s life and her private investigation team, they had also fallen in love with each other.

  The two slipped off their coats and laid them on the back of a chair before crossing the room to where Mary reclined on the couch. Rosie sat on the chair adjacent to her and Stanley perched on the chair’s arm.

  “How are you doing?” Rosie asked, leaning forward and placing her hand on Mary’s arm.

  Mary covered Rosie’s hand with her own. “I’m good,” she said. “And I have two of the best nursemaids in Freeport looking out for me.”

  “He ain’t trying to make you eat any foreign food, is he?” Stanley asked, sending a distrustful glance at Ian.

  “Oh, aye, I’ve been trying to force haggis and blood pudding down her throat,” Ian said. “But this big brute of a policeman won’t let me.”

  “Humph, he ain’t much better,” Stanley grumbled looking over at Bradley. “But at least he’s got some common sense and can speak English.”

  “Thank you, Stanley,” Bradley said. “Coming from you, I feel extremely complimented.”

  Stanley made his way over to Mary and crouched down next to the recliner. “It’s about time you decided to stop loafing around at the hospital and get back to the real world,” he said. “Some of us have important things to talk to you about.”

  “Oh, and what would that be?” Mary asked, lifting her eyebrows.

  Stanley blushed and shrugged his shoulders. “You tell her, Rosie,” he mumbled. “This here’s womanly talk anyhow.”

  Rosie leaned over and kissed Stanley on the cheek. “Isn’t he the sweetest thing?” she asked Mary.

  “Dang it woman, you can’t do that kind of stuff in public,” he stammered, getting up and walking across the room.

  “But Stanley, this isn’t public, this is Mary’s house,” Rosie replied with a smile.

  She turned back to Mary. “Mary, Stanley and I are engaged!”

  Mary’s jaw dropped with surprise. Her dearest friends, who constantly bickered at each other, finally realized how much they were in love. She felt tears well up in her eyes. “I am so happy for you,” she sniffed, “This is just so wonderful.”

  “Yeah, if it’s so wonderful, why are you bawling your eyes out?” Stanley asked.

  “Come here, you old curmudgeon and give me a hug,” she demanded.

  Stanley, his face slightly pink and his grin stretched from ear to ear, walked over and gave Mary a soft hug. “Congratulations,” she whispered in his ear. “She’s a lucky lady.”

  He shook his head. “Naw, I’m the lucky one.”

  Stanley moved back and Rosie scooted forward. “I know you’re still recovering, but I have to know,” Rosie exclaimed. “Mary, would you be my maid-of-honor?”

  “Oh, I would be delighted,” she said.

  “Well, good,” Stanley grumbled. “Cause I ‘spect there ain’t many women in this town who’d be able to work with my best man.”

  He nodded over in Bradley’s direction. “I asked him at the hospital the other day.”

  Mary turned to Bradley. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

  He shrugged, “I guess my mind was on other things.”

  “When’s the wedding?” Mary asked.

  “Saint Patrick’s Day,” Rosie said. “Stanley insisted because his memory is so bad he knew he’d forget our anniversary if we didn’t have it on a holiday.”

  “Well, Valentine’s Day is only a couple of weeks away,” Mary teased.

  “Aw, everyone gets married on Valentines,” Stanley said. “We wanted ours to be unique.”

  “No matter what, I’m sure your wedding is going to be unique,” Ian said. “It’s not often a beauty marries a beast.”

  Stanley chuckled. “You’ve got that right,” he said. “That’s why I picked St. Pat’s because I knew I was the luckiest man on earth.”

  “Oh, Stanley,” Rosie cooed, “that was so romantic.”

  Stanley blushed, “Well, it’s just the truth, that’s all.”

  Rosie walked over to Stanley and put her arms around his neck. “I think we are going to have to leave now because I want to kiss you and I know you don’t want all of these people to see it.”

  “Just don’t want them to be jealous, that’s all,” he mumbled. “‘Sides, Mary is recovering, so we ought to let her get her rest.”

  “Oh, aye, that’s one of the best excuses I’ve ever heard,” Ian said with a grin. “And I almost believe it. How about you Bradley?”

  “If I get a report that you two are parked somewhere steaming up the windows, I’m not going to be too happy about it.”

  Rosie giggled. “We’ll make sure to wipe the windows clear every so often.”

  Bradley laughed. “Good enough,” he said. “Now get out of here before you make us all tired.”

  Chapter Six

  “I’m tired,” Mary said, shifting in the recliner. “You two wouldn’t mind if I went upstairs to bed, would you?”

  Bradley and Ian looked up from the movie on the television in amazement. “But Mary, they haven’t solved the murder yet,” Ian said.

  She shrugged. “I have. Do you want to know who did it?”

  Ian clapped his hands over his ears. “No, don’t tell me.”

  Bradley chuckled and rose to his feet. “Come on, Sherlock, I’ll walk you upstairs. Ian why don’t you make us some popcorn and we less than brilliant viewers can finish the rest of the movie.”

  “I didn’t say you weren’t brilliant,” Mary protested. “I just solved the mystery. I worked on a case like this in Chicago. You see, the spouse...”

  Ian pressed his hands tighter over his ears. “La, la, la, la, la,” he sang. “I can’t hear you.”

  “What the hell is he doing? A Scottish mating dance?” Mike asked, appearing in the middle of the room.

  “Yeah, don’t get too close,” Bradley said.

  “Oh, very funny, Bradley,” Ian said, getting up from his chair. “Go put Mary to bed; Mike can keep me company until you return.”

  “Oh, cool, I love this movie,” Mike said, “especially the end when we find out the butler did it.”

  “AHHHHHHHHH!” Ian screamed, running into the kitchen.

  Mike looked at Ian and then turned to Mary and Bradley. “What? What just happened here?”

  Mary and Bradley turned to each other and started to laugh.

  “What?” Mike asked.

  Mary collapsed against Bradley, tears running down her cheeks. �
�I can’t breathe,” she gasped as she laughed. “My sides ache.”

  Bradley wrapped an arm around her and led her to the staircase, his own laughter echoing in the room. “Come on; let’s escape while we still have brain cells left.”

  “What?” Mike called again, confusion evident in his voice.

  “Oh shut up,” Ian yelled from the kitchen. “And pick something else to watch on the bloody telly.”

  A fresh wave of laughter floated down the stairs from Mary and Bradley.

  “It’s not that funny,” Ian called up after them.

  Bradley and Mary sat on the edge of her bed, wiping the tears from their eyes. Mary took a deep breath. “Oh, that felt so good,” she said breathlessly. “I really needed that.”

  He turned and wiped a stray tear from her cheek and she smiled up at him, “It feels like it’s been forever since we laughed together.”

  He smiled and nodded. “I agree.”

  Looking up at him, she gave him a cheeky grin. “It feels like forever since we did several things together, Police Chief Alden.”

  “Like what?”

  She looped her arms around his shoulders. “Like this,” she whispered, before kissing him lightly on the lips.

  Loosely encircling her waist with his arms, he pulled her a little closer. “Yeah, I missed that too.”

  “Me too,” she replied with a sigh. “I missed you.”

  “Never again,” he said, lowering his head to touch her forehead. “Never again will I let doubt and fears keep us apart.”

  She sighed happily. “So what should I promise?”

  “Promise to love me forever,” he whispered, kissing her lightly on the nose.

  “Oh, well, that’s easy,” she replied, lifting her head to kiss his lips.

  He angled his head and deepened the kiss, pouring all of his love into it. She slid her arms tighter around his neck, knocking them both off-balance. They slipped backwards onto the bed, Mary still enfolded in his arms.

  She froze. Suddenly she was back in the dark room and Gary was climbing on her, touching her. “No, no,” she cried, beating against his chest. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me.”

  “Mary! Mary, it’s me,” Bradley insisted, lifting himself away from her. “I’m so sorry. Mary come back to me.”

  She scrambled across the bed until she was in the far corner. Her eyes were wide and frightened, her breath coming out in gasps. Bradley could tell she wasn’t seeing her own bedroom, she was back with Gary.

  “Mary, you’re home,” he said softly. “You’re in your own room. No one will hurt you. Mary you’re safe. I promise. You’re safe.”

  The glaze of fear left her eyes and she blinked several times. She looked around her room and then looked at Bradley. He was standing a few feet from the bed looking down at her with concern on his face. “Bradley?” she whispered.

  “Mary?” he said in a low voice. “Are you okay? Do you know where you are?”

  She nodded, tears running unchecked down her face. “Oh, Bradley, am I going crazy?”

  He slowly moved toward the bed, and when she didn’t object, climbed over next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her as she cried, kissing her on the top of her head. “No, darling, you’re not crazy. We’ve just got to give you a little more time to heal.”

  Chapter Seven

  Once he had assured himself she was doing better, Bradley left Mary’s room, closing the door firmly behind him. Ian stood at the top of the staircase and Mike hovered nearby.

  “We heard something and thought we’d come and have a look,” Ian said.

  “No, we thought we’d have to kick your ass if you were hurting her,” Mike corrected, and then he looked at the worry on Bradley’s face. “Not that we actually thought you’d be hurting her.”

  Bradley sat on the top step and put his head in his hands. “One moment, everything’s fine, everything’s great and the next moment, she thinks I’m Gary.”

  Ian placed his hand on Bradley’s shoulder, “Oh, no, she doesn’t think you’re Gary,” he said. “She’s having a flashback. She’s not home anymore; her mind brought her back to Jeannine’s memories. It’s naught to do with you.”

  Scoffing harshly, Bradley shook his head. “Yeah, you try to convince yourself of that when she’s beating her hands against your chest and screaming in terror.”

  “So, you’ve never had a woman do that to you before?” Mike teased.

  “It’s not funny, Mike,” Bradley replied, but he couldn’t help the smile that flitted over his face.

  “No, it’s not funny,” he said. “But you have to get some perspective here. Mary is safe. Gary is going to be put away for a long time. But, even if he escaped, Mary could have kicked his butt with no problem, as long as she wasn’t drugged. She’s not a victim. She’s a warrior. She just has to remember.”

  Ian nodded. “Pretty smart for a dead guy.”

  Turning to Ian, Mike grinned. “Yeah, and I don’t even have a PhD.”

  They walked down the stairs together and gathered at the kitchen table where Ian had placed a large bowl of buttered popcorn and some drinks.

  “I figured since there was no point in watching the rest of the movie, we might want to decide how we can best help Mary,” he said.

  “Well...” Bradley began.

  “Shouldn’t I be included in the conversation?”

  The three turned to see Mary standing on the staircase, wrapped in her robe and looking determined.

  “Aye, you should,” Ian agreed. “Have a seat and I’ll get you something to drink? Would you like tea?”

  She shook her head. “No, I need something stronger. Is there any cold Diet Pepsi?”

  Mike grinned. “The champ is back and she’s fighting.”

  Mary shook her head as she came down the stairs and joined the men. “No, I’m not fighting, I’m scared. But I know I can’t go on like this. So, any suggestions?”

  Ian handed Mary a can of soda and sat down next to her. “Let me hypnotize you,” he said. “I might be able to remove Jeannine’s memories. You’d still have your abduction to deal with, but I think it would lessen the trauma.”

  Shaking her head, she took a deep breath. “Can we take that off the table for now?” she asked. “I don’t think I want to be hypnotized again for a while.”

  Ian stiffened, taken aback. “I’m sorry, Mary,” he said, his voice strained. “I had no idea it would have this effect on you. I never...”

  She quickly turned to him and placed her hand on his shoulders. “That’s not what I meant,” she said. “We both did what we needed to do to solve this crime and I don’t regret it for a moment. Please don’t think I hold you responsible for any of this.”

  “But...,” he began, but stopped when he saw the plea for understanding in her eyes.

  Cocking his head to the side, he studied her for a moment. “I see,” he said slowly, staring into her eyes. “I agree we should pursue some other options.”

  “After 9/11 we got a lot of training about post-traumatic stress disorder,” Mike said. “Lots of the first responders were affected.”

  Mouthing a silent “thank you” to Ian, Mary turned to Mike. “What kinds of things were suggested?”

  “Talk to someone about your experience,” Bradley interjected.

  “Well, there aren’t too many professionals who would listen to my story without suggesting I go to a nice quiet place and rest for a long time,” she replied wryly.

  “It doesn’t have to be a psychologist,” Mike said. “You can talk to us. Get it out of your system.”

  She looked at the three strong, capable and caring men sitting at the table. She knew they’d listen and do their best to empathize with her. But they would never really be able to understand what she experienced.

  “As much as I appreciate it, I don’t think ...” she tried to explained, “What happened to me...to Jeannine...”

  “We aren’t women and we can’t understand how it feels
to be raped,” Ian stated baldly.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “That’s it exactly.”

  “Well, what else?” he asked.

  “You’ve got to get busy,” Mike said. “You’ve got to get back to living your life. Don’t let the experience rule your life.”

  “Hey, she just got out of the hospital,” Bradley protested. “She needs some down time.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting she run a marathon,” Mike said. “Just start moving forward.”

  “An investigation,” Ian said, “An old case with a calm, easy-going ghost. Something I can use for one of my studies.”

  “Perfect!” Mary said. “And I have just the case. While I was at the hospital there was a ghost following Dr. Thorne. Then she told me her father died in an explosion at the high school. We could look into that one.”

  “Wait,” Bradley interrupted. “I think you are all moving too fast.”

  She turned to him and placed her hand over his, “I promise I won’t over-do,” she said. “I just have to get busy, get my mind off of what happened.”

  He turned his hand and caught her hand in his own. “Not thinking about it is not going to make it go away,” he said. “I could speak with Regina Tallmadge at VOICES, the domestic violence shelter; she could get you into a group session.”

  She knew Bradley meant well and was only trying to protect her, but she wasn’t like those other women. She was a trained professional. She understood about crimes against women. She wasn’t a victim. She had been a cop. A damned good cop. And if she could survive dying, there was no way in hell some creep was going to get the best of her.

  She squeezed his hand and met his eyes. “I’m not ready for that,” she said. “But, I’ll be sure to let you know as soon as I am.”

  “Yeah, Mary doesn’t need to sit around talking, she needs some action and she needs it now,” Mike said.

  There was a sharp rap on the front door, causing everyone to jump.

  “Okay, that was spooky,” Mike added.

  Chapter Eight

  The men allowed Mary to open her own door, but only after earning a sharp glare when they tried to prevent her. “It’s my house,” she said with determination. “I can answer the door.”