Delayed Departures

by Terri Reid

“What?” she asked, perplexed.

  “I’ve been working with these…” he waved his arm around the room, encompassing the equipment. “These ghost experts, adventurers, who tell people they see and feel ghosts. I know the tricks. I know the right camera angles, the right sound equipment. I know what it takes to pull one over on gullible people who just want to believe.”

  “So, you think I’m a fraud?” Mary asked.

  He shook his head sadly. “You know,” he said sadly. “It’s not my job to judge you or Sven or anyone else. You seem like a nice lady and all. I just…I just wish…”

  “It was for real?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said, turning back to the equipment. “Well, yeah, maybe.”

  Mary sat silently and watched him complete his work. Finally, he turned on the lights, adjusted them so they lit up the area of Mary’s desk and then stepped behind the camera, adjusting the sound equipment.

  “Say something,” he said. “To test the sound levels.”

  Mary looked beyond him to Gwen hovering nearby and raised her eyebrows.

  Gwen smiled and nodded.

  Chapter Eight

  Mary cleared her throat. “Your mother says to tell you that she knows about Snookums,” Mary said clearly.

  Dee looked up so quickly he hit his head on the equipment. “Say what?” he exclaimed.

  “I always hated when he used that expression,” Gwen said. “Excuse me or pardon me is so much more professional.”

  “Your mother says that she hates when you use that expression,” Mary repeated calmly. “She feels that excuse me or pardon me is much more professional.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Dee asked, coming around the equipment. “What kind of game are you playing?”

  Mary shrugged. “I’m exactly who I told you I was,” she said. “I’m not a fake. I’m not playing games. I’m just me.”

  “How did you know those things about my mom?” he demanded.

  Mary looked passed him to the ghost standing behind him. Gwen nodded her assent.

  “Your mom is here, in this room,” Mary said.

  “I’m not playing these games,” Dee said.

  “Okay, no games,” Mary said. “Ask me a question that only your mom would know.”

  “What? And have you read my mind and get the answer?”

  Mary bit back the smile. “So, you’re telling me that you believe I can read minds, but you don’t believe I can speak with ghosts?” she asked. “Are you serious?”

  He paused and thought about it for a moment. He shrugged, slightly embarrassed. “Seemed logical at the time,” he said sheepishly. “Besides, what am I supposed to ask you?”

  His mother moved over to him and shook her head with exasperation. “How about the fact that you wouldn’t wear anything but Scooby-doo underwear when you were eight years old?” she asked.

  Mary chuckled.

  “What?” Dee asked, narrowing his eyes.

  Mary raised her hands in apology and smiled. “Sorry, your mom just mentioned an obsession you had with Scooby-Doo underwear when you were eight,” she said. “Don’t ask that question. It would just be weird.”

  His eyes widened. “But…”

  “Or how about eating mayonnaise on hot dogs? Made my stomach turn,” Gwen added.

  “Mayo on hot dogs?” Mary asked. “Don’t do that in Chicago. You’d get kicked out.”

  “Or how about memorizing all the Boyz II Men songs and singing them while you did the dishes?” Gwen quipped.

  “Boyz II Men songs while you were doing dishes?” Mary asked, her smile widening.

  Dee looked slowly around the room. “Hell. She is here,” he said softly.

  “You sang one of their songs at my funeral,” Gwen said, looking up at her son with tears in her eyes. “I loved it so much.”

  Mary’s smile fell away, and she had to catch her breath slightly before she could speak again. She absently wiped at the tears forming in her own eyes. “You sang one of their songs at her funeral,” Mary whispered. “She really loved it.”

  “Mamma?” Dee said, his voice cracking. “Is that really you?”

  The petite ghost glided over to her son and laid her hand against his check. “It’s me, honey,” she said. “It’s your momma.”

  He looked at Mary, surprise and wonder in his eyes. “I feel her,” he said.

  “She’s right next to you,” Mary said.

  He lifted his hand to his cheek and rubbed it softly. “I can really feel her.”

  Gwen looked at Mary. “Tell him why I’m here,” she insisted. “Tell him why I’m worried.”

  “Dee, your mom isn’t just here to check on you,” Mary began, not quite sure what she should say.

  “What do you mean?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”

  Mary nodded. “She came by my house last night, when we were all meeting there,” she said. “And she told me that she is worried about you.”

  Dee turned away from Mary and looked around the room. “Mom, I’m fine,” he called. “I’m good. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  He bent over and looked at Mary. “Is it about me not settling down yet?” he asked, his voice soft.

  Gwen put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “No, it’s not,” she said to him. “But it wouldn’t hurt you to go out on a date sometime with a nice girl.”

  “No, that’s not what she mentioned to me last night,” Mary said. “For some reason she’s worried that someone is trying to kill you.”

  He straightened up. “What the hell?” he exclaimed. “No one’s trying to murder me!”

  Just then a shot rang out on the street, and both Dee and Mary immediately dropped to the floor.

  Chapter Nine

  Mary lifted her head and looked across the room at where Dee was flattened on the floor near the camera equipment. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. “How about you?”

  She took a deep breath. “I think I’m good,” she replied. “As long as I don’t have to get up in a hurry.”

  He turned his head toward the window. “Don’t get up,” he warned. “Just stay on the floor. I’ll make sure it’s safe.”

  “Oh no you won’t!” his mother exclaimed. “You will keep your body on the floor until I tell you to get up.”

  “Your mom wants you to stay down,” Mary said. “She’s going to check it out.”

  Dee looked slowly around the room and then nodded. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” he replied.

  Gwen glided to the big picture windows at the front of Mary’s office and peered through the half opened blinds. “No one is out there,” she said as she scanned the street in front of her. “No cars, no people.” She turned back to Mary. “Maybe it was just a car backfiring.”

  Using her chair for leverage, Mary pushed herself to her feet and walked over to the window to join Gwen. She carefully examined the front wall of her office, scanning the floor slowly. Finally, she bent over and picked up a tiny shard of glass. Then she shook her head. “No,” she said, stepping over to the edge of the window and slowly raising the blind to reveal a small hole in the corner of the glass. “It certainly wasn’t a backfire.”

  Dee looked at the hole, and his gaze shifted across the room, mimicking the direction the bullet would have taken through the room. “Damn,” he said softly, squatting down next to his equipment.

  Embedded in the heavy-duty lighting carrying case was a small slug. “I’m glad I didn’t take the time to put these away,” he said. “I was standing just on the other side of this.”

  “Don’t touch the slug,” Mary cautioned. “It’s evidence.”

  After lowering the blinds back in place, Mary closed them before walking over to her desk and picking up her phone. “I’m calling Bradley,” she said. “This isn’t a theory anymore. Dee, your mother’s right. It looks like someone is trying to kill you.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” Dee protested. “There’s no reason someone woul
d want to kill me.”

  “Murder rarely makes sense,” Mary said before turning her attention to her phone. “Hi. It’s me. You need to get down to my office and bring forensics. There’s been a shooting.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m fine,” she assured him. “Really. No one was hurt.” She paused. “Well, my front window and Dee’s light case received flesh wounds, but we’re both fine.”

  “If you call Katie and ask her to sit with Clarissa for a few minutes, I’ll call Rosie and Stanley and have them go to the house,” she added. “Okay, we’re just going to stay away from the window until you get here.”

  She put the phone down and turned to Dee and Gwen. “So, now all we have to figure out is who is trying to kill you and why they would follow you to Freeport to do it,” she said. “Any ideas?”

  Dee shook his head, clearly confused. “I really have absolutely no idea,” he said.

  “Disgruntled fan?” Mary asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m not even on the show,” he replied. “I do the camera work, editing, sound effects and stock footage. No one would even know I was affiliated with the show unless they watched the credits, which generally get cut off before they show my name.”

  “Do you owe anyone money?” Mary questioned.

  Once again, he shook his head. “No, my mother always taught me to pay my bills right away and never go into debt,” he said.

  Gwen smiled. “That’s my boy.”

  “Drugs?” Mary asked. “Off the record.”

  Gwen stared sternly at her son. “His answer better be no.”

  “No,” Dee said. “I don’t do that stuff.”

  Mary sighed and sat down in the chair next to her desk. “Okay, we’ve gone through the obvious questions,” she said. “Now, maybe, we have to consider the not so obvious.”

  Dee shook his head. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

  “The show. How are the royalties split?” Mary asked.

  Shrugging, Dee replied, “Equally between all of us,” he said. “That’s how we set it up in the beginning.”

  “And if something were to happen to one of you?” she asked.

  “I guess the royalties would go to the other…” Dee stopped and stared at Mary. “No. Sven is my friend.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Mary replied.

  Chapter Ten

  The drive from their house to Mary’s office was less than two miles, but tonight as he sped down Stephenson Street with his lights blazing and his siren blaring, it felt like an eternity. All he could picture in his mind was Mary, riddled with bullet holes, lying on the floor of her office.

  “She’s fine,” Mike said, appearing next to Bradley in the squad car.

  Bradley almost didn’t flinch when Mike suddenly appeared, but his hands were steady of the steering wheel as he hurried down the street. “You promise?” he asked, glancing over at the angel and then turned his attention back to the road.

  “You’re asking an angel if he’s lying?” Mike asked.

  “Yes. Yes, I am,” Bradley said, his voice tense.

  “Bradley,” Mike said seriously. “She’s fine. She’s safe. The immediate danger is over.”

  Mike watched as Bradley released a long breath, relaxed and then suddenly tensed again. “What do you mean the immediate danger?” he asked.

  “She’s safe,” Mike said. “Okay? Safe. And if I have any say in the matter, she will stay safe.”

  Bradley turned to Mike as he pulled up in front of her office building. “Thanks,” he said.

  Mike nodded. “Yeah, no problem.”

  Bradley hurried forward and pushed the door of the office open. “Why wasn’t this locked?” he asked as he walked through the door.

  “So you could get in when you arrived,” Mary replied, slowly pushing herself out of her chair.

  He immediately went over to her and pulled her into his arms. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  She laid her head against his chest and allowed his warmth to chase away the tension in her body. “I’m good,” she whispered. “Better now that you’re here.”

  He held her for another moment, then slowly released her and took a step back. “Okay,” he said softly, a hint of irony in his voice. “I can do my job now.”

  She smiled back at him. “Me, too.”

  He turned back and saw his forensics officer was already at the window, looking at the bullet hole and the shards on the ground. “What do you have?” Bradley asked him.

  The young officer looked up at Bradley. “Looks like a .22 caliber bullet,” he replied. “From the initial trajectory reading, I’d say the shooter was across the street, firing from a vehicle. But a taller vehicle, like an SUV or truck.”

  Bradley nodded and lifted the blind, looking across the street. “That’s not very far, and he missed,” Bradley said. “So are we dealing with an amateur?”

  “Hard to say,” the officer replied. “In most of these old, historic buildings they still use single-pane glass, and that wouldn’t have slowed the speed of the bullet.” He smiled up at Bradley. “But the bullet-resistant film your wife has on her windows slowed the bullet up enough that it ended up in the case, rather than the body of the camera man.”

  “Thanks,” Bradley said.

  “You’re welcome, sir,” the officer replied. “I’ll do a ballistics test on the bullet and see if it comes up with anything we can use.”

  Bradley nodded. “I’d appreciate that,” he added.

  Bradley walked across the room to another officer who had just finished interviewing Dee. “Stacy, I’d like you to pull the tapes from any security cameras in the area,” he said. “Check for any larger vehicles, SUVs or pickups, and then run the plates on them.”

  “Got it,” Stacy replied. “Hopefully we’ll get a little further with that angle than interviewing the witness. He’s got nothing. No idea why someone would want to kill him.”

  Bradley looked over to Mary’s desk. Dee had just pulled up a chair, and Mary glanced toward Bradley, nodding him over. “Thanks, Stacy,” Bradley said. “Call me if you find something.”

  Bradley walked over and pulled up a chair next to Mary, facing Dee. “Okay,” Bradley said, his face stern and his voice low. “You’ve put my wife in danger. So if you have any idea who might be doing this to you, you need to talk. And talk now.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sven paced back and forth frantically across Mary and Bradley’s living room, his forehead buried in his hands. “Dude, this is intense!” he exclaimed. “This is like nothing I’ve ever prepared myself for.”

  “Well, prepared or not, we need to be sure that Dee is protected until we discover who is trying to kill him,” Bradley said.

  “Protect him?” Sven asked, shaking his head. “Like protective custody?”

  “Yes,” Mary said. “That’s the best way to protect him.”

  “Sorry, no can do,” Sven replied.

  “What?” Bradley exclaimed, standing up and walking over to Sven. “What do you mean, no can do?”

  Dee sighed and shrugged. “He’s right,” he said. “There’s no way I can go into hiding. At least not now.”

  “Why not?” Mary asked.

  “Next week is the week that makes it for us,” Sven said.

  Mary shook her head. “I’m sorry, still not getting it.”

  “Next week is the Illinois Paranormal Society’s Annual Conference,” Dee explained.

  “You didn’t know that?” Sven asked, astonished.

  “I don’t give a damn about a conference,” Bradley said. “Someone just tried to kill you.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” Dee said. “But this is where paranormal research groups from all over the Midwest come together and share information. It’s vital to our professional reputation for us to attend.”

  Bradley looked over at Sven. “You have a professional reputation?” he asked.

  Sven nodded eagerly and grinned. “Yeah, I mean,
I am somebody to these people,” he said. “I’m kind of an icon, and Dee here, he’s like Tonto to my Lone Ranger.”

  Mary moved over next to Dee. “Are you sure you can’t skip this?” she whispered.

  “Yeah,” he replied slowly. “The reputation of the whole show relies on the work we do at the convention, and if I let Sven handle it alone…”

  He stopped and turned to Mary, giving her a pointed look.

  “I understand,” Mary replied.

  She turned to Bradley. “If Dee is going to the conference, then we need to go to the conference,” Mary stated.

  “Okay, can we get tickets?” Bradley asked.

  “Actually, you probably need to be part of the guest speakers in order to be able to follow us everywhere we need to go,” Dee said. “We’re taking over the Student Center at Highland Community College, and some of the areas we can go the general audience can’t.”

  Nodding slowly, Mary reached over and picked up her phone.

  “Who are you calling?” Bradley asked.

  “Kathi Kresol, the owner of Haunted Rockford,” Mary said as she pressed the number. “She also runs the Illinois Paranormal Society Conference.”

  Bradley smiled and shook his head. “Is there anyone you don’t know?” he asked.

  She grinned back. “Remember, private investigator here,” she teased. Then she paused and turned her attention towards the phone. “Hi Kathi, it’s Mary O’Reilly Alden. How are you doing?”

  “Mary,” Kathi answered. “It’s great to hear from you. What’s up?”

  “I have a favor to ask,” Mary said. “Have you heard of the Ghost Discoverers?”

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, I told them to contact you while they were in Freeport,” Kathi replied.

  Mary paused and lifted her eyebrows. She turned toward Dee and Sven. “Oh, so you were the one who suggested they look me up,” she said pointedly. “How interesting.”

  Both Dee and Sven had the grace to look guilty.

  “So, the favor,” Mary continued. “I need to have some presenter passes for the conference. I’m working on a case and it’s…”