by Terri Reid
“Of course,” Rosie laughed. “Big deli dill pickles and some of the cheese and pea salad you like.”
“Oh, Rosie, you are the best friend anyone could ever have,” she said. “When will you be here?”
“I’m coming up the sidewalk now,” she said. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
True to her word, a moment later Rosie entered Mary’s office with a shopping bag filled with their lunch. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the stack of boxes.
“Quinn brought those over,” Mary said, shifting them over so there was a place for the food. “They’re the files for the Maughold project.”
“Well, that was very nice of him,” Rosie said, picking up a file and glancing through it. “This is really good information.”
Mary nodded as she pulled the food out of the bag. “He’s been very helpful,” Mary said. “And he’s willing to help in whatever way he can to help figure this out. He still has feelings for Jessie.”
Rosie closed the file and met Mary’s eyes. “Does he realize that if he helps us figure out that one of Jessie’s brothers is the killer, she might not return his feelings?”
Mary paused and took a deep breath. “You know, I don’t think that occurred to either of us,” she admitted. “I hope I don’t end up ruining his chances with Jessie.”
“Well, the most important thing is the truth,” Rosie said. “Isn’t it?”
“I think so, you think so, but I don’t know if the Johnson family thinks so,” she said. “They’ve been pretty good at avoiding the truth for fifteen years.”
They both sat down on either side of the desk and unwrapped their sandwiches. Mary took a large bite of hers and closed her eyes in pleasure. “Oh, Rosie, this is just what I needed,” she said.
“You do need to remember to eat,” Rosie admonished. “Not only does your body need it, but if you go too long without food, you’ll get morning sickness.”
“In the afternoon?” Mary asked. “Isn’t it officially afternoon sickness then?”
“Most women will tell you that morning sickness is actually morning-noon-and night sickness,” Rosie replied, lifting up a carrot stick and pointing it at Mary for emphasis. “And you don’t want to go there.”
“So, now that you’re here, eating with me,” Mary said. “How would you like to review some of these files with me?”
“Sure, my afternoon is free,” she said. “And the sooner we figure out what happened to Dale, the sooner I can sell that house.”
“Excellent,” Mary said, passing Rosie a ten-inch stack of files. “You can start on these.”
“What am I looking for?” she asked.
“Well, so far the Johnson farm is the only one that seems to have been given the incentive offer that multiplied the value of their land,” Mary said. “I want to see if there are any other parcels with a similar offer.”
“Okay, anything else?” she asked.
“No. I really can’t think of anything else to look for,” she said. “But if you stumble on anything unusual, let me know.”
Rosie pulled out her phone. “When do we need to stop?” she asked. “I’ll set an alarm, so you’re not late for something else.”
Mary laughed. “Actually, Bradley is picking Clarissa up for her appointment with Dr. Springler this afternoon and then they’re going grocery shopping together,” she said. “So I’m free until about five. It will probably be pizza night at the Alden household; do you and Stanley want to come by?”
“That would be fun,” she said. “I’ll let Stanley know.”
Mary pulled her keyboard towards her. “And I’ll let Bradley know, before I forget,” she said.
Several hours later, the remnants of lunch still on the desk, Mary placed the last file back in the box and shook her head. “I don’t see anything in these files that would suggest anything unusual, to say nothing about corrupt,” she said. “Quinn took very careful notes and documented everything.”
“And the letter he sent to corporate about the Johnson property is factual and professional,” Rosie added. “There’s nothing to suggest that he was going to try and persuade Dale to do anything he didn’t want to do.”
Mary chewed her lower lip. “Okay, so what’s the next step?” she asked. “We still don’t have a valid reason why the Johnson farm was so important.”
“This is like a big jigsaw puzzle,” Rosie said.
Looking up quickly, Mary smiled at her friend. “Rosie, that’s brilliant,” she said.
“What?” Rosie asked, confused.
“A jigsaw puzzle,” Mary said. “Quinn told me that every parcel had a survey done. So, let’s put all the pieces together to see why the Johnson property is so important.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea,” she said. “I have a couple of large folding tables. I’ll bring them tonight and then we can all work on it.”
“Great, pizza and a puzzle,” Mary said. “Sounds like a fun night.”
“Let’s put these back in the boxes and I’ll help you carry them to your car,” Rosie suggested. “And then, hopefully, tonight we will solve the case.”
Chapter Thirty-two
“There’s one more piece of pepperoni,” Bradley called from the kitchen. “Any takers?”
“Well, iffen no one else is gonna bite, I will,” Stanley said, grabbing his paper plate and carrying into the kitchen. “I got room for one more piece.”
Walking past Clarissa who was at the kitchen table coloring, he paused and patted her head. “Whatcha drawing there, sweetheart?” he asked.
“A ghost my mom saw at Union Dairy,” she explained. “I can’t draw ghost pictures at school because my mom and dad think people might not understand. Even Dr. Springler thinks I probably shouldn’t talk about them at school too.”
Bradley’s head shot up and he met Mary’s face, wide-eyed and concerned. “Did you have a nice visit with Dr. Springler today?” Bradley asked.
Clarissa nodded. “Yes, she was nicer to me today,” she said. “Especially after I told her about what Maggie and I want to do when we grow up. But she was a little confused.”
“In what way?” Bradley asked, watching Mary get up from the couch and walk towards the kitchen.
Sighing, Clarissa put down one crayon and picked up another. “She didn’t understand about ghosts at all. She didn’t think Mom and Maggie could do that,” she said. “She thought I was saying something bad about Mom.”
“What did she say?” Mary asked.
“She said that I needed to not make things up about you,” Clarissa said. “And that I should love you for who you are and not for a make believe job I pretend you have.”
Coming forward and slipping her arms around Clarissa, Mary held her tightly. “I’m so sorry she didn’t believe you,” Mary said. “I should have thought about that.”
“Did I do bad?” Clarissa asked. “You said I should tell her everything I was thinking about. That I should be honest with her.”
“Yes we did,” Mary said. “And you did nothing wrong at all.”
She looked up at Bradley. “And tomorrow I’ll go in and explain everything to her,” she said.
Clarissa wrapped her arms around Mary. “Good, ‘cause she was saying she might need to talk to the school counselor about my pretending,” Clarissa said. “And then that would spoil our secret.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, it would spoil our secret,” she said. “I’ll call her first thing in the morning and get in to see her, I promise.”
“Maybe you could also ask Gracie to give her a call,” Bradley suggested. “One shrink to another.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Mary replied and she bent and kissed Clarissa on the top of her head. “Sorry sweetheart.”
Clarissa shrugged. “There’s no reason to be sorry,” Clarissa said. “I get to have my own guardian angel and you help people become angels. That’s the coolest job any mom could ever have.”
Smiling, Mary gave her another hug. “I totally agree
.”
“So, what’s the name of this ghost you’re drawing?” Stanley asked, biting into the pizza.
“Dead Erika,” Clarissa said.
Bradley stifled his chuckle and Mary rolled her eyes. “Clarissa…,” she began.
“Erika Arnold,” Stanley interrupted, looking at Mary. “You’re helping Erika Arnold?”
“You know her?” Mary asked.
“Yeah, we went to school together,” he replied. “She still hasn’t moved on?”
“No, she’s at Union Dairy, waiting for a ride,” she said. “I think she said she was waiting for Adam.”
Stanley placed the pizza down on his plate and shook his head. “Well, she ain’t gonna get the ride she wants,” he said. “Adam died in the same crash she died in.”
“How come she doesn’t know that?” Clarissa asked.
Mary looked at her daughter. “That’s a very good question.”
“From what I remember, they were both in the car when it crashed,” Stanley said. “They were driving out on Highway 75, northeast of town. The weather was bad, the roads were slick and Adam was driving too dang fast. The sheriff’s deputy seemed to think they both died immediately.”
“Do you remember where the crash was?” Mary asked.
Stanley nodded. “Yeah, right past the curve near Winneshiek Road.”
“Thanks,” Mary said. “I’ll check it out.”
Looking from Stanley to Mary, Clarissa asked, “Do you like helping ghosts?”
“Yes, I do,” she replied. “I like it very much.”
Yawning, she smiled at her mother. “I think Maggie and I are going to like it too,” she said.
“And I think you will both be very good at it,” Mary said, giving Clarissa another quick hug. “Now let’s get you upstairs and ready for bed. You look exhausted.”
Slipping out of the chair, Clarissa rubbed her eyes. “I am pretty tired,” she agreed.
She went around the room, giving all of the adults hugs, and then took Mary’s hand to walk upstairs.
“I’ll be up in a bit to read to you,” Bradley promised.
“Okay,” she replied, yawning again.
“I don’t think you’ll get much reading done tonight,” Rosie said with a smile.
“Darn,” Bradley grinned. “And we were just getting to the good part.”
In two quick bites, Stanley finished his piece of pizza and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. After drying them on the towel, he turned to Rosie and Bradley. “Why don’t we get started on those surveys?” he asked. “Seems to me Mary is going to have a busy day tomorrow.”
Bradley and Stanley unfolded the large folding tables and set them up in the middle of the living room. The combination of the two gave them a working space of five feet by six feet.
Rosie went through the box and pulled out the Johnson file. “Let’s put this survey in the center and build around it,” she suggested.
“Okay, great idea,” Bradley said. “Which one is next?”
By the time Mary came down the stairs, the tables were full of surveys taped on the corners with masking tape. “Wow, good job,” she said. “Is this all of them?”
“These are the ones adjacent to the Johnson property,” Bradley said. “Now don’t solve the case until I come back down.” Giving Mary a quick kiss on the cheek, he hurried upstairs to read to Clarissa.
Mary smiled and shook her head, then turned back to the table. “So, we have these all laid out,” she said. “Does it make sense that the Johnson farm was considered a keystone spot?”
“Well, iffen this piece were here, it would make more sense,” Stanley said, pointing to a large bare spot on the table next to the Johnson survey.
“That must be Sawyer Gartner’s place,” Mary said. “He was on the county board at the time. He wasn’t selling his property.”
“How do you know?” Stanley asked. “I’ve known Sawyer for a long time and I can’t see him passing up an opportunity to make some money.”
“He would have to have recused himself from the county board proceedings,” Mary said. “And from what I understand, he was on the committee who decided whether or not the project went through.”
“It’s strange,” Rosie said, flipping through a multi-page document. “This lists all the properties in the project, but we’re missing one.”
“Does it give a name we should be looking for?” Mary asked, moving closer and reading over Rosie’s shoulder.
“No, the only one I can’t figure out is this trust,” Rosie said. “All of the others are listed by owner name.”
“Well, Quinn did say there were some properties their corporate offices were handling,” she said.
“We got a puzzle with a missing piece,” Stanley said. “Could be property that somehow connects to the Johnson place, and that would give us a better idea.”
“I’ll call Quinn in the morning and see if he can get that file,” Mary said.
“You might want to check the county board meeting records,” Stanley suggested. “Maybe something was mentioned there about the Johnson place. It would have been under the Rural Development subcommittee and at the time would have been a closed meeting because of the sensitivity of the payments to each landowner. But after ten years, the Freedom of Information Act kicks in, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I’ll see if I can find any sales records referencing this trust number,” Rosie suggested. “We might have something in the old MLS files.”
Bradley came down the stairs as Rosie and Stanley were slipping on their coats. “Did you solve it when I was upstairs?” he asked with an exaggerated sigh.
Rosie walked over and patted him on his cheek. “No, darling,” she said. “We just have more questions.”
“Questions?” he asked, looking at Mary.
She smiled. “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll tell you all about it.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Mary got in early to the office the next day. After a refreshing early morning jog— that she hated to admit she actually enjoyed— she showered, dressed and grabbed some food before she hurried off to the office. Bradley planned on getting into the office late that morning, so he helped Clarissa get on her way.
“Don’t forget to call Dr. Springler,” Clarissa reminded her after she kissed her daughter goodbye.
“I won’t,” Mary promised. “I’ll call her as soon as I get in.”
After setting up her laptop, she pulled out her phone and made the call she was actually dreading. Really, she thought as she listened to the ringing at the other end of the line, I am getting tired of being labelled a nut case. So what if I see ghosts? So what if I have a guardian angel with a wicked sense of humor living in my house? Can’t we all just accept people for who we are?
“Dr. Springler’s office,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “May I help you?”
“Yes, hi, this is Mary O’Reilly, um, I mean Mary Alden,” she said.
Great, now they’re going to think I have a multiple personality disorder, she thought.
“I was hoping to meet with Dr. Springler for a few minutes today,” she continued aloud.
“Oh, Mrs. Alden,” the voice on the other end of the line replied. “Yes, I know she wanted to speak with you.”
Okay, yep, they’ve talked about me.
“When would she like to meet?” Mary asked.
“Well, she is booked solid all day,” her receptionist replied. “But she felt it was important enough to skip lunch, if you want to come by then.”
Oh, not only am I a nut, I’m making her starve too.
“Why don’t you suggest she meet me for lunch,” Mary said. “My treat. How about Union Dairy?”
“Well, that’s highly irregular,” she replied.
Well, I’m highly irregular, Mary thought.
“It would be very helpful and because of my pregnancy, I really shouldn’t be skipping any meals,” Mary said, pleased with herself that she thought
of the pregnancy angle.
“Hold on a moment, let me ask her.”
Mary tapped the end of her pencil against her desk top as she wondered what she was going to say to the good doctor. Really, it’s nothing, I see dead people. A funny thing happened to me on the way to heaven. No, really, I’m on a mission from God. She shook her head. “No, this is not going to be easy.”
“I beg your pardon?” the receptionist asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Mary stammered. “I have a client in my office.” And she purposefully lowered her voice. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Then she said brightly, “Sorry, what did the doctor say?”
“The doctor will be happy to meet you at Union Dairy at noon,” she replied.
“Thank you,” Mary said. “I’ll see her then. Goodbye.”
After hanging up, she sat back in her chair and exhaled loudly.
“What’s the problem?” Dale asked, appearing before her desk.
“Oh, nothing,” Mary said. “Just a child psychologist who thinks I’m a couple buns short of a dozen because I can see ghosts.”
Dale chuckled. “You want me to go over and haunt her office?” he asked and then he paused. “Can I do that? Haunt things?”
Mary grinned and nodded. “Yes, you can,” she said. “At least that’s what I’ve been told. You just have to concentrate on making yourself be seen and then you can appear.”
“Maybe I’ll pay a visit to some of my kids,” he mused. “Scare the crap out of them.”
“Well, before you do that, we ought to be sure they deserve having the crap scared out of them.”
“What have you learned so far?” he asked.
“That none of the other properties I have the files on were given anything close to what you were given for your land,” she said. “And the location of the properties don’t seem to do anything to make your property that important.”
“Did they pay for any of the other sites?” he asked.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “As a matter of fact, none of them even had a contract written up with a contingency on the board’s approval.”
