by Terri Reid
Mary turned backed to the ghost. “Did you hear that?” she asked.
Mr. Carpenter stroked his chin with his fingers. “I recommended her two years ago,” he said, shaking his head. “Just before I died. Why would they postpone her advancement?”
“He recommended you two years ago,” Mary told Jessie. “But he doesn’t know why they didn’t act on it.”
“He did what?” Jessie asked. “Really? He recommended me?”
Nodding, Mary turned back to Mr. Carpenter. “I have a theory to share with you,” she said.
“I love theories,” he replied with a twinkle in his eyes. “My favorite is the mathematical control theory. Which one do you want to discuss?”
“Well, this theory is not quite mathematical,” Mary said. “It’s more situational.”
“Go right ahead my dear,” he said with a smile.
“If a certain CPA firm has a long-standing and prestigious client that has something in his files that could prove detrimental if it were discovered,” Mary said. “Could that client have enough influence to block the advancement of a junior accountant?”
“Ms. O’Reilly, I believe we are moving from hypothetical theories to actual fact, are we not?” he asked.
Mary smiled and nodded. “Yes, Mr. Carpenter, I believe we are.”
“Now, I was a great accountant, but I was never very good at algebra, so could you do away with the ‘a plus b equals c’ and fill in some names?”
“I would be very happy to do so,” she replied. “Your firm’s client, Mr. Sawyer Gartner, could have been involved in the murder of Jessie’s father. Part of the evidence could potentially be found in his files from about fifteen years ago. If Jessie were to be made partner, she would have had access to those files. Could he be covering his…um, assets?”
Mr. Carpenter shook his head. “Those are very serious allegations,” he said.
“Yes, and we have substantial circumstantial evidence to back up this theory,” Mary said.
He nodded. “And Jessie, what does she think?”
“Well, I think she believes I’m a little crazy because I’m speaking with you,” Mary replied honestly. “But she felt the evidence was strong enough to bring me here to the offices after hours to try to access his file and determine the truth.”
“She has a good head on her shoulders,” he said. “I don’t see her jumping to any rash conclusions.”
“I agree with you,” Mary said. “What do you suggest?”
He shrugged his shoulders and then smiled slowly. “I say we break into the vault and take a look at those records.”
“I think that’s a brilliant idea, Mr. Carpenter.”
“Follow me,” he said.
Jessie watched in amazement as Mary walked further down the hall and the door to the vault room opened before Mary reached it. Moving closer, her jaw dropped as the security code buttons to the vault lit up and within moments, the heavy steel door swung open.
“What did you do?” Jessie asked.
Mary shook her head. “I didn’t do anything,” she answered. “Mr. Carpenter has faith in your judgment. You did it, not me.”
Before Jessie could reply, a black and white cardboard box floated from the depths of the vault and slid onto the top of a conference table in the room. Mary walked over and read the label on the outside. “What a surprise,” she said with a smile. “It’s Sawyer Gartner’s file.”
Chapter Forty
Jessie still hadn’t made a lot of coherent statements since they had left the CPA offices. “The box just floated,” she repeated, shaking her head.
“No, Mr. Carpenter, the ghost, carried it for us,” Mary explained again. “And then he put it away. No fingerprints. No breaking and entering. Piece of cake.”
“But there was no one there,” Jessie said, her voice still on the edge of hysteria.
“Yes, there was,” Mary tried again. “But you just couldn’t see him.”
Jessie shook her head. “I don’t believe in ghosts,” she informed Mary.
Mary nodded and smiled. “Oh, well, I see what the problem is then,” she said. “You just want a logical explanation.”
“Yes,” Jessie replied. “That’s it exactly.”
“Okay, how about I’m a trained hypnotist and without your knowledge I hypnotized you and made you see amazing things, like vaults opening and boxes floating, when really nothing like that happened at all.”
Jessie exhaled with relief. “Yes, that makes sense.”
“The only problem with that explanation is that I’m holding a copy of the files from Sawyer Gartner’s folder,” she said. “But perhaps that’s just a figment of your imagination too.”
“You couldn’t have just left it there,” Jessie said. “You couldn’t have just let me believe there was a logical, although farfetched, explanation for everything I’ve seen tonight.”
“No. No I couldn’t,” Mary said.
“Why not?”
“Because, once we reach the seventh floor and walk into the conference room, your father will be there,” Mary explained. “And if you have a believing heart, you might be able to see him. And I think you both would enjoy that.”
They walked into the lobby of the Stewart Centre and summoned the elevator. Because it was nearly ten o’clock, the elevator door opened immediately and the women stepped inside. Mary pushed the button for the seventh floor and they were whisked upward.
“Dad will be there?” Jessie whispered hesitantly.
“Yes, he will,” Mary said.
“What will he look like?”
Mary thought of the broken and bent image of Dale she saw and prayed that the reflection Jessie was able to see was of an earlier time in his life. “I’m not sure what he’ll look like,” she said. “What I see when I meet a ghost is what I need to see in order to help them. What did you see when you used to see him at your house?”
Tears filled her eyes as she thought back to those rare moments. “I just saw my dad,” she replied.
“Then I would guess that’s who you’d see tonight too.”
The elevator door slid open and they walked down the hall to the big conference room. The room was already filled with people and the smell of pepperoni pizza. “I figured since I made you miss your lunch, I at least owed you some dinner,” Josh said as they walked in.
Mary smiled at him. “Thank you, that was very nice.”
Abe stood up and walked around the room to meet her. “So, Josh tells me you’re trying to find out who killed our dad,” he said.
Mary nodded. “That’s right.”
“That’s not what you said when you came to my shop.”
“Would you have spoken with me if I had told you what I was doing?” she asked.
He paused for a moment, examining his own feelings, and then shook his head. “No, I would have told you to get the hell out of my shop,” he replied.
Mary met his eyes. “Which is kind of what you said anyway.”
Abe nodded, embarrassed. “I thought I was protecting my family.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Mary said. “And so did your dad. He was pretty proud of you for standing up for family like you did.”
“He was there?”
“Yeah, he told me you were the most diligent of the kids,” she said. “That’s why I asked you if you had checked earlier.”
“I can’t believe dad’s been hanging around all this time,” he said. “And his murderer has been allowed to walk free.”
“Well, let’s see if we can’t change that,” Mary said.
Abe offered her his hand. “Thank you,” he said. “For not walking away from us.”
“No problem,” Mary said, shaking his hand. “I’m glad we’re on the same team.”
“Me too,” he said and then walked back around the room to speak with his brother.
Bradley came up to her carrying a plate and a bowl with a small salad. “Everything okay here?” he asked, glancing over to Abe.
“Oh, yes, ev
erything’s fine,” Mary said. “Thanks for coming.”
“No problem, I’m here to make sure something healthy gets in your system,” he said, bending over and giving her a quick kiss. “How’d it go?”
“Great.” Mary said, pulling out the file. “It looks like we have motive. How’s Clarissa?”
Bradley smiled. “How do you think?” he asked. “She got to spend the night at the Brennans.”
“Yeah, I think she’s good,” Mary said with a smile, and then she turned to the rest of the people in the room to get things started, but saw Quinn approach Jessie. “I think I’m going to start things in a few minutes.”
Bradley followed Mary’s eyes and nodded. “Good, it will give you a chance to eat something.”
On the other side of the room, Jessie watched Quinn approach. Her feet were frozen to the spot, so she swallowed and tried to look away, but Quinn wasn’t going to let her get away that easily. He stepped closer and took her hand in his. “It’s good to see you,” he said softly. “You’re looking good.”
She smiled shyly and nodded. “You too,” she said. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good,” he replied. “I’ve moved up in the bank. I really like banking, you know, helping people.”
“You were always good with people,” she said. “You know, friendly.”
“How are things going with your job?” he asked.
“Great. Just great,” she replied, trying to think of something less inane to say. “Oh, Mr. Carpenter said he recommended me for senior partner.”
Quinn shook his head. “I thought Mr. Carpenter died two years ago.”
Jessie bit her lower lip and pulled her hand from his. “That’s right, he did,” she said. “But somehow, he was there tonight, at the office. He helped us get the file. I don’t understand…”
He took her hand back and smiled at her. “Yeah, neither do I, even when Rosie tried to explain it. But I guess interesting things happen when you work with Mary O’Reilly.”
Jessie looked up and met his eyes and saw acceptance, and more, in them. She blushed happily and nodded. “Yes, I guess they do.”
Seeing the smile on her face, Mary nudged Bradley. “Looks like things are warming up over there.”
“So are you Mary the ghost-helper or Mary the matchmaker?” he asked.
“I think I prefer psychic sleuth,” she whispered with a grin.
“What?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” she replied and then she cleared her throat and turned to the other members in the room. “Okay, I think we ought to get started.”
They all gathered around the table: Mary, Bradley, Josh, Abe, Jessie, Quinn, Rosie and Stanley. But Dale was not there yet.
Mary slid the folder across the table to Jessie. “Jessie, Dale’s not here yet,” she said. “But I think we can start without him. So, why don’t you give everyone a brief explanation about what we found in Gartner’s file?”
Jessie flipped the folder open and then looked up at the rest of the people seated around the table. “Well, first, the information I’m about to share with you is still confidential,” she said. “And because we didn’t have a search warrant, we really can’t use it in a court of law.”
Bradley turned to Mary. “No search warrant?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting.
“Shhhh,” Mary whispered. “One of the senior partners gave us the information. So, I was fine.”
“Was the partner alive or dead?” Bradley whispered back.
Mary shrugged. “I’m pleading the fifth,” she replied with a smile.
“The financial records show that for several years prior to the Maughold project the Gartner farm was running in the red,” Jessie said. “The equipment was old, the house had a lien on it from a second and a third mortgage and Sawyer’s expenditures outweighed his income.”
“I always wondered how he could live so high on the hog,” Josh said. “His kids always went to Disneyland; they always had the best clothes and newest electronic games. I just figured Dad was stingy.”
Jessie shook his head. “He was so far in debt, there was no way for him to recover,” she said. “He was going to lose his farm.”
Quinn looked across the room to Bradley. “How hard is it for someone outside a bank to find out about someone’s financial status?” he asked.
“Well, actually, running a credit report will give you a lot of basic information,” he replied. “Debt to income levels. The extra mortgages on the farm. All of those would have been red flags.”
“So, I’m an investor looking to start a corporate farm in the Freeport area,” Mary suggested. “I know I’m going to have to get approval from the county board and I also know that in rural America corporate farms are not really welcome. So, I find out who’s on the county board, which is public information and I run credit checks on all of them to find out which one of them is the most susceptible for a bribe.”
“Yeah, that works,” Josh says. “But it doesn’t explain why our property was pulled into it. They could have just paid Sawyer a bunch of money under the table. He didn’t need us.”
“But what if it wasn’t really about the corporate farm,” Quinn suggested. “What if someone at Maughold was looking to make a little money? He approaches a board member with the idea that they buy his property upfront and the deal dies. He gets to buy back his land at current prices and the two split the cash.”
“How much land did Sawyer have?” Bradley asked.
“Only 500 acres,” Quinn said. “Too small for the corporate farm.”
“Which is why your farm was so important,” Mary said. “Without your farm, they couldn’t make the deal.”
“How much money did he make on the deal?” Rosie asked.
“Over eleven million dollars,” Jessie said. “And, it’s very interesting to note that the year the project fell through.” Her voice thickened and she took a deep breath. “The year my dad died, he suddenly had over five million dollars in revenue.”
“So we have opportunity, we have motive and we have a financial trail,” Bradley said. “All we have to do now is prove it.”
Dale appeared behind Josh’s chair. “All we gotta do is somehow catch the fox in the chicken coop,” he said. “And the fox is running a might scared right now, he thinks he’s seeing a ghost.”
Jessie’s eyes widened as she stared across the room to the spot over her brother’s chair. “Dad?” she exclaimed, her eyes wide in astonishment. “Dad you look just like Josh.”
Mary smiled and turned to Bradley. “And I think I know how we can do it.”
Chapter Forty-one
The driveway that led down to Sawyer’s house was gray asphalt and was bordered with tulips and crocuses. Occasionally some statuary of a troll or frog was tucked near a bush or under a tree. It was a very welcoming setting, but Mary doubted the owners would be that welcoming if they understood why she was there.
Parking her car in the circular drive in front of the house, she walked up the steps and knocked on the front door. A moment later, Sawyer Gartner opened the door and scowled. “Can I help you?” he growled in the most unhelpful way.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mary replied pleasantly. “You probably don’t remember me. I’m Mary. We met when I was being shown the house next door.”
His frown relaxed into a smile. “I’m sorry,” he said apologetically. “Of course, now that you mention it, you do look familiar. I apologize, for my rudeness. I’ve been a little on edge lately.”
Mary bit back the smile as she recalled Dale’s stories of haunting Sawyer’s house. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she lied. “Shall I come back at another time?”
“No, no, come in,” he insisted. “What can I do for my potential neighbor?”
Mary came in, but stayed in the front foyer of the house. “I don’t want to intrude on your day,” she said sheepishly. “But I have an odd question for you. I’ve tried to speak with the realtor about it, but she just evades my questions. And that mak
es me even more nervous.”
“Nervous about what?” Sawyer asked.
Mary leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice. “Do you know…” she paused.
“Yes?” Sawyer prompted, leaning towards her.
She took a deep breath. “Do you know how the former owner of the house died?” she asked.
Sawyer jumped back as if he’d been scalded. “What? Why would I know that?” he demanded.
Mary shrugged. “Well, because you live next door and you said you were friends,” she said simply. “So I thought you must have known.”
Sawyer leaned against a door frame and inhaled quickly. “Ah, oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “Of course I know. He died in a farming accident. He must have accidentally locked himself into a grain silo when his sons were out harvesting the corn crop. They didn’t know he was in there when they emptied the harvest into the top of the silo. He was crushed and suffocated.”
“Oh, how awful,” Mary said, covering her mouth with her hand. “That had to have been a horrible way to die. Maybe that’s why…”
She paused, met his eyes for a moment, and then turned away. “No. Never mind.”
“Never mind what?” he asked.
“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she said, shaking her head nervously. “I can’t believe it myself.”
“Believe what?” Sawyer nearly yelled.
She leaned forward again. “I think I’ve seen him,” she whispered. “I mean, I think I’ve seen his ghost.”
“What is he doing?” Sawyer asked.
“Just walking around the house,” Mary said. “I’ve been to the house twice and both times, out of the corner of my eye, I’ve seen a man.”
“What does he look like?” Sawyer asked, his voice shaking slightly.
“He’s tall with brown hair, he’s wearing a plaid flannel shirt, a pair of overalls and a denim barn coat,” she said. “And he’s wearing work boots. Does that sound like him?”
Sawyer nodded, his eyes looking past Mary. “Yes,” he whispered slowly. “That sounds exactly like him.”
“It’s so strange,” Mary said. “I thought ghosts only came back when they were murdered.”
