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

by Terri Reid

  They all laughed. “Aye, we call it joie de vivre,” Ian said.

  “Joy of life,” Charlie said, nodding. “Yes, that describes her perfectly.”

  “Unfortunately, someone was trying to put an end to that life this evening,” Bradley said. “There was a gunman waiting in the hall for her.”

  “A gunman,” Charlie exclaimed. “For Rosie? Why?”

  “Because they know she is investigating your death,” Mary explained.

  “Well, then, stop,” Charlie said firmly. “I died to save people, not to have them killed.”

  Ian shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Aye, and there’s the rub,” he said. “You thought you died saving people, but you were murdered.”

  “Murdered?” he replied. “No! I couldn’t have. How?”

  “That’s what we’d really like to figure out,” Mary said. “And now that Rosie’s in danger, there’s no going back.”

  Charlie paced across the room. “But, I wasn’t murdered,” he insisted. “It was an experiment gone wrong. Faulty chemicals. Maybe a prank that got out of control. But murdered?”

  He shook his head, “Why would someone want to murder me?”

  “Charlie, I need you to think back to that day,” Mary said. “Think back to when you were dropping Stevo out the window.”

  “Yeah, I remember it,” he said. “Stevo was amazing. He kept his head and saved lives. There was no way I could have gotten all those kids out before the explosion.”

  “So, all the kids were out,” Mary said. “It was just you and Stevo. Where was the fire?”

  He walked up to the front window and faced the back of the room. “We were here,” he said. “The smoke was getting pretty thick, we were coughing, but we could still see out the windows. I told Stevo I’d let him down and then I’d come down next.”

  He chuckled. “I made him promise not to whip me over to Smith for a double play.”

  “So, Stevo’s safe,” Mary said, she and Bradley walking over and joining Charlie at the window. “You’re ready to climb out the window...then what happened?”

  “Boom,” Charlie said. “That’s it boom! Then it was over.”

  “Did you turn away from the window? Did you hear something? Did you hesitate?”

  “Hell no,” he said. “I wanted out. My foot was on the window sill.”

  “Do remember the impact? Do you remember which way you were blown?”

  He paused and thought about it for a moment. His face registered the shock of the dawning realization. “From the right,” he said slowly, “the explosion came from the front of the class, not the back.”

  Mary nodded. “The explosion had nothing to do with the fire. Someone set a secondary explosion and detonated it once you were the only one left in the room.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Charlie hovered over a lab stool next to one of the tables, his head resting in his scarred hands. “How could this...?” he stammered, his voice filled with bewilderment. “Why would someone...”

  “It never makes sense,” Mary said.

  He lifted his head, a different kind of pain etched in his eye. “But I thought the kids liked me.”

  “They loved you,” she insisted. “The students we’ve spoken with loved you. You made a difference in their lives and they never forgot you.”

  “This didn’t have to be the action of a student,” Bradley added. “The security wasn’t as tight in those days as it is today. Almost anyone could have gotten into the school and planted the bomb. Anyone with that kind of knowledge.”

  Charlie nodded his head. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not helpful, but I can’t think of anyone who wanted me to dead.”

  “That’s good,” Ian inserted. “At least when we find the bugger it won’t be a long list.”

  Charlie laughed bitterly. “Well, I hope not.”

  “So, let’s first talk about the teachers you worked with,” Mary suggested. “Were you up for tenure? Was there any competition?”

  Charlie shrugged. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I was up for department head,” he said. “So was Ross Gormley, but he’d never do something like this.”

  “Gormley?” Bradley asked. “Was his son Walter Gormley?”

  “Yeah, little Wally Gormley,” Charlie acknowledged. “He was my student because a parent couldn’t teach their own child. Not that much teaching got through Wally’s head. He wasn’t the sharpest tack in the box. What ever happened to him?”

  Ian shook his head. “He’s the superintendent of schools,” he admitted.

  “No, kidding,” Charlie said. “Wow. I would have never guessed that one.”

  “But Wally was also the only other person who knew Rosie was coming up here tonight,” Bradley said. “And it’s obvious Ross Gormley would know how to create a bomb.”

  “And have access to your class,” Mary added.

  Charlie shook his head. “I can’t see it,” he said. “Ross was a good guy. He was my friend.”

  “Well, I recently learned you can’t always rule out the guys you believe are your friends,” Bradley said bitterly. “I suggest we put him on our list.”

  Charlie glided across the room and stood next to the front window. “Fine, you’re the expert,” he said. “What else do you need to know?”

  “There was an inquiry after your death,” Mary said. “Someone wanted you labeled as negligent. Did you hear anything about that?”

  Charlie shook his head. “No,” he said. “Really? After I saved those kids, someone wanted to blame me? My poor Betty. That must have been hell for her.”

  “Betty?” Bradley asked.

  “My wife,” he replied. “I left a wife and a little girl.”

  “Dr. Thorne is his daughter,” Mary told Bradley.

  “Well, then, I owe you a debt of gratitude,” Bradley said. “Your daughter saved my life.”

  Charlie smiled. “She was always a bright little tyke,” he said proudly. “I’m glad my death didn’t hold her back.”

  He sighed sadly. “What else haven’t I told you?”

  “Were there any students who held a grudge against you?” Mary asked.

  He shook his head. “No, this was a good year,” he said. “The kids were great and the parents were fairly normal too.”

  “While you’re thinking about that one, I have another question for you,” Ian said. “Why would the folks at B&R Manufacturing be so interested in covering up what happened in here?”

  “B&R Manufacturing,” Charlie asked. “Caleb Brandlocker?”

  “Aye, well now it’s his son, Ephraim,” he said.

  Shaking his head, he glided back to stand in front of them. “You learn a lot about people when you coach their children,” he said. “Some have illusions of grandeur for both themselves and their kids. I always feel sorry for the kids whose parents think high school baseball is a ticket to the major league. I mean, give the kid a break, this is Freeport and this is high school baseball.”

  Mary nodded. “I coached pee-wee baseball in Chicago,” she said. “I had to throw parents out of the games more often than any of the kids. But, I didn’t have an issue from them because I carried a gun.”

  Charlie laughed. “Yeah, I should have been a cop,” he agreed. “Those parents don’t do their kids any good by making them think they are better than anyone else. They grow up to be delinquents.”

  “Ephraim Brandlocker?” Ian asked.

  “He was gone, graduated by the time this happened,” Charlie said. “He had a lot of issues, but it’s not my story to tell. Sorry, that’s all I can say.”

  “Anyone else,” Mary asked. “Anyone like Ephraim?”

  Charlie shook his head. “No, like I said, this was a good year,” he said. “I had a bunch of good players who knew what it was like to play as a team.”

  “You took State that year,” Mary said.

  “What?” Charlie asked.

  “Stevo Morris told us the team took State that year,” Mary said. �
��The boys wanted to do it for you. They didn’t want you to be forgotten.”

  “For me?” Charlie asked, tears streaming down his cheek. “That...that means a lot. Thank you.”

  And then he faded away.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Mary pulled her Roadster into the driveway and watched through the rearview as Bradley’s cruiser followed directly behind her. They all exited the cars at the same time and walked up the stairs to the front door.

  Stanley opened the door before they had a chance to enter the code into the lock. “I didn’t want you to knock and wake the kids,” he said. “What took you so long?”

  “Where’s Rosie?” Bradley asked. “She needs to be in here for this conversation.”

  “I’m here, Bradley,” said Rosie, getting up from her seat on the couch. “What’s wrong?”

  The three entered the room and, not bothering to take off their coats, moved to the chairs in the living room. “Why don’t you sit back down,” he suggested, “And Stanley, why don’t you sit down next to her.”

  “What the hell...?” Stanley began to bluster.

  “There was a shooting at the high school this evening,” Mary said, interrupting him.

  “What?” Rosie exclaimed. “Are you...? Is everyone fine?”

  Bradley nodded. “Yes, but there were a couple of close calls,” he said. “And if not for Ian’s quick reflexes and Mary’s training, things would have been a lot worse.”

  “Well, quite frankly, if the constable here hadn’t shown up before we entered the school, Mary and I probably wouldn’t be having this conversation with you,” Ian added.

  “But why would someone shoot at you?” Rosie asked.

  Mary knelt down in front of Rosie and took her hands in her own. “The better question would be why would someone want to shoot at you?” Mary said pointedly. “They were expecting you and Ian, not me. And certainly not Bradley.”

  “Are you saying someone wanted to kill Rosie?” Stanley asked.

  Mary nodded. “Or at least scare her away from the high school.”

  “But, but who?” Rosie asked, her face white with shock.

  “That is what we intend to find out,” Bradley said. “But in the meantime, we need to practice some precautions around here.”

  Stanley nodded, looping his arm around Rosie’s shoulders and pulling her close. “I want her in protective custody,” he said. “I want her in a safe house.”

  “Well, I agree with the sentiment, Stanley,” Bradley said. “But it’s going to be hard to prove this wasn’t anything but us catching a petty thief off guard.”

  “But the only one who knew she was gonna get the key was Gormley,” Stanley said. “You could arrest him.”

  Rosie shook her head, slipped a hand out of Mary’s grasp and patted Stanley’s leg. “He’s right, Stanley,” she said. “Who is going to believe that I went to Gormley and asked for a key so I could investigate a ghost?”

  “I’d believe you, Rosie,” Bradley said with a smile. “But you’re absolutely right, only those of us lucky to be in the Mary O’Reilly unit understand what’s going on.”

  “So, what’s gonna happen?” Stanley asked angrily. “You gonna leave her out there like a sitting duck?”

  “You know better than that, Stanley,” Mary chided, “You know we care about Rosie as much as you do.”

  Stanley grumbled. “Well, so what’s your plan?”

  “I want Rosie to stay with you for a few days,” Bradley said. “This way she won’t totally go off the radar and the people who tried to ambush her won’t know that we’ve figured them out, so we’ll have a better chance of catching them again. I can’t think of anyone who would watch over her and protect her better than you.”

  “Darn right, ain’t no one who would protect her better’n me,” he spat.

  Turning to her, he placed his hand over hers and squeezed it gently. “I promise you, Rosie, you’ll be safe,” he said. “Ain’t no one gonna get to you with me standing in their way.”

  She laid her head down on his shoulder. “Oh, Stanley, I’ve never felt safer,” she sighed.

  He rose and pulled her up to her feet. “Are there things you need before you can stay at my house?” he asked.

  “I would not advise going to your house tonight,” Bradley said. “I don’t know if they have someone there watching the place.”

  “Oh, dear, there are a few things that I really shouldn’t be without,” Rosie said. “But I don’t want to risk... I do have my emergency kit back at the office, but I suspect you don’t want me to go there either.”

  Bradley nodded. “Sorry, Rosie.”

  “Why don’t you come upstairs with me,” Mary suggested. “I seem to recall you left some things here the last time you stayed.”

  The two women hurried up the stairs, their voices low as to not wake the children.

  “Oh, Mary, I can’t go to Stanley’s without my makeup,” she said. “I’ll look like a hag in the morning and men aren’t supposed to see women like that until after they’re married.”

  Mary chuckled quietly. “Let’s look through the guest bathroom and then through my bath and see if we can’t put together enough supplies to make it through tomorrow morning.”

  In less than fifteen minutes Rosie had a bag packed and she was ready to go. With Stanley’s arm around her and her overnight case clasped at her chest, they said their good-nights and drove off to Stanley’s home.

  Mary closed the door behind them, a small smile on her face.

  “So, care to share with us what was in that wee case?” Ian asked with a grin.

  She shook her head. “Womanly secrets,” she said.

  He laughed. “Ah, it’s just as well.”

  He turned to Bradley. “Do you think this house is in any danger?” he asked. “Seeing as Rosie used my name to get into the high school.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “She didn’t tell them that you could speak with ghosts.”

  “Not that any ghost in their right mind could understand half of what he said,” Mike quipped appearing in the room. “As Maggie puts it, he talks weird.”

  “Aye, but she loves me anyway,” Ian added.

  “Did you ever hear about Coach Thorne?” Mary asked.

  “Oh, you mean the ghost coach?” Mike asked. “Yeah, he unlocked doors and opened windows in the Chem lab. I was there once; I think it was the anniversary of the fire. We were all sitting in class when the front window started to open all by itself. It was so cool. Totally freaked the teacher out.”

  Ian chuckled. “Aye, I can understand that.”

  “Yeah, she decided she didn’t want to teach Chemistry any longer after that experience,” he said. “She was really a bad teacher anyway, so the coach did us a favor.”

  Mary laughed. “I wonder if he did it on purpose.”

  “So, you guys helping him?” Mike asked.

  “Yeah, it looks like he has a good reason to be a ghost,” Bradley said. “Someone planted a bomb in his room and the fire was a cover-up.”

  “Really, someone actually murdered the guy?”

  Mary nodded. “Yeah, from the shots fired at us tonight, it looks like the murderer is still around and anxious for the crime to remain unsolved.”

  Mike looked at Mary. “I thought this was supposed to be a safe case,” he scolded. “Do you not know the meaning of safe?”

  Bradley chuckled, came up next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “See. I’m not the only one.”

  “Well, I’m a bit more tired than I thought. I’m going to call it a night,” Ian said, deciding it was time to leave Mary and Bradley alone. “Come upstairs with me Mike and tell me more about your high school days. I need something to help me fall asleep quickly.”

  “Oh, funny,” Mike said, gliding up beside him. “And I suppose your high school days were any better.”

  “A might better than yours, I’d gather,” he replied.

  Mary leaned back against
Bradley and giggled. “They are so cute together,” she laughed.

  Bradley turned her towards him, held her loosely in his arms and lowered his forehead to hers. “My heart stopped beating when I heard that second shot,” he said, “I thought...”

  She lifted her hands and cradled his face. “The same thing I thought when I saw him behind you and heard the first shot.”

  He nodded. “Which was?” he encouraged.

  “Crap, he’ll do anything to get out of a date.”

  He chuckled softly, pulled her closer and kissed her on the side of her neck. “You’re still planning on wearing that little black dress, right?” he whispered in her ear, sending a quiver of excitement through her.

  “Ummm, hmmm,” she breathed slowly as he continued to place small kisses against the side of her neck. “And sexy black heels with black silk stockings.”

  He paused mid-kiss. “They wouldn’t have a seam up the back of them, would they?”

  She grinned. “All the way up the back of them.”

  He drew back and looked at her face, her grin wide and her eyes sparkling. “There is no way in hell I’m missing this date,” he said, and pulled her close for a bone melting kiss.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Walter Gormley shouted, spittle gathering at the corners of his mouth. “I just got off the phone with the police. You went into one of my schools and shot at someone. Do you realize what you could have done?”

  “Yes, I could have gotten rid of a problem that could ruin all of our lives,” Ephraim Brandlocker said. “And don’t tell me what to do, Gormley. I put you in that position and I can just as easily take you out.”

  This time the bar was closed and the shades were drawn, so no one walking past the tavern would be able to tell anyone was inside.

  “It was a prank, right?” Walter asked, trying to read Ephraim’s face. “You told me it would just be a prank. Something to make my dad look better and put a little egg on Thorne’s face.”

  Ephraim nodded. “That’s what I told you all right.”