by Terri Reid
Ian nodded. “Aye, I have,” he said. “There were a number of cases involving individuals who were serial killers and later diagnosed as psychotic, that showed evidence of precognition, telekinesis and even clairvoyance.”
“Tony Lancaster was not only psychotic, but also brilliant,” Mark said. “He tested off the charts in intelligence.”
“Common for psychotic individuals,” Ian added.
“That’s right. That’s right,” Mark said. “And the way I learned about the link between psychotic behavior and psychic ability is because I found articles in Tony’s room, scholarly articles describing the testing and the behaviors.”
He flipped open the file and pulled out several paperclipped articles. “I put them in his file after I finished reading them myself,” he said. “And then I discovered that he had obtained a game, Kreskin’s ESP. Have you ever heard of it?”
Ian nodded. “Yes, actually, I have one back home in Edinburgh,” he said. “It has a series of games, for lack of a better word, that test your psychic ability.”
Mark nodded. “Exactly. Tests and then, perhaps, improves them,” he said. “Tony was actually way above average when reading the cards. He could shuffle them, lay them face down on a surface and then point to them with very little thought and correctly identify the hidden shapes.”
“How above average?” Ian asked.
“Generally, 100 percent accurate,” Mark replied. “Unless he was distracted and lost concentration. Then the percentage decreased.”
“So, if Tony knew or felt that he had this kind of power, why would he decide to commit suicide?” Mary asked.
Mark looked back down at the file and shuffled through the papers, finally finding one and sliding it onto the desk in front of them. “I believe it was because of this,” he said.
Mary and Ian looked at the paper. Mary gasped softly. The headline of the article read, “Psychic Power Increases After Death.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
With the file safely tucked inside Ian’s coat, he and Mary slid the chains back through the door handles and secured the combination lock to them. Then Ian turned to Mary. “How’s your connection to Mike these days?” he asked. Then he helped her down the slick stairs.
“Pretty good, I think,” she replied, stepping down and then walking alongside him towards the car. “Why?”
“I’d like to chat with him for a few moments,” he replied, shining his flashlight down the darkened path. “And the sooner, the better.”
“Can we get in the warm car first?” Mary suggested hopefully.
He smiled and nodded. “Of course,” he said.
He helped her inside the vehicle, then quickly went around to the other side to get in and turn it on. Almost immediately, warm air started to circulate inside the interior. Mary, holding her hands up to the vent, turned and smiled at him. “Perfect,” she said.
She took a deep breath, cleared her mind and then pictured Mike.
“You called?” Mike asked as he appeared in the back seat.
“That was fast,” Mary said.
“Well, I have to admit that I was anxiously awaiting a call all day,” Mike replied. “So, what’s up.”
“We think we’ve found our ghost,” Ian said. “But we’ve encountered a couple of concerns.”
“I’m sure he’s the boy from my dreams,” Mary said. “So he does have a connection to me.”
“And not only was he diagnosed as with psychotic tendencies but he also may have had highly attuned psychic abilities,” Ian added. “Which may have continued beyond life.”
“So, if he’s tuning into Mary,” Mike said, “he might be able to tell that she’s not in Freeport.”
Ian nodded. “I’m assuming that you put enough fear in him that he hasn’t come by yet,” Ian said. “But if he starts searching…”
“Yeah, yeah, I get you,” Mike replied. “So, what we need is a psychic decoy.”
“You can do that?” Mary asked.
He turned to her and smiled. “Sure, you’re just a mixture of compassion, goodness, courage, empathy, humor and kindness,” he said. “Piece of cake. Hmmmm, for added sweetness, I could use a cake.”
“So, you’re like a fairy godmother, turning something inanimate into something real?” she teased, touched and flattered by his words.
“But, you know, considering your current state, I could also use a pumpkin,” he teased.
“Oh, well, all those nice things I was thinking about you,” she said in mock anger. “They are completely gone.”
He chuckled. “How’s the rest going?” he asked.
“We’ve had a number of very interesting encounters,” Ian replied. “But everything has been very positive.”
Mike sobered when he turned to Ian. “Not all of those encounters are happenstance,” he said meaningfully. “Sometimes God works in mysterious ways.”
“Aye, I’ve been on the end of some of those mysterious ways,” Ian said, a little bit of bitterness in his tone. “But I’ll take whatever help I can get.”
“How’s everyone at home?” Mary asked.
“Missing you,” Mike said. Then he turned to Ian. “Actually, both of you. Clarissa was very disappointed to come home and discover you’d gone.”
Ian softened. “She’s a gem,” he said. “Tell her I miss her, too.”
Mike nodded. “I will,” he said. Then he turned to Mary. “And if you ever need me, just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you, Mary? You just put your lips together and blow.”
She grinned at him. “You do a more believable Bogart than Bacall,” she teased.
He nodded. “Yeah, I really wish Bogie had said that line,” he laughed as he started to fade away. “Be safe. Both of you.”
Mary waited until Ian had backed out of the dirt driveway and was back on the paved road. “So, Ian,” she said.
“Yes, Mary, darling,” he replied on cue.
“Just how do we stop a psychotic ghost with psychic abilities who has been able to murder people even after death?”
“That, my dear, is the question of the night,” he replied, his voice losing any shred of levity. “The question of the night.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
“This is a lovely vehicle,” Adeline said as she sat in the back seat of the Range Rover on their way to the library. “Is this real leather?”
Ian chuckled. “Aye, it is,” he said. “And if you were a little more substantial, I would have turned on the seat warmers back there.”
“Really, seat warmers in the back,” she sighed. “Well, that is luxurious.”
“Once we got seat warmers in our car,” Mary said, “I wondered how I ever lived without them.”
Adeline chuckled. “It is human nature for luxuries to become necessities after a little while,” she said.
She glanced out the window. “Oh, why don’t you park over there, in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot,” she suggested. “Then no one will notice a car near the library.”
Ian pulled into the supermarket’s lot and parked close to the street. He turned in his seat. “Should we wait a wee bit?” he asked.
Adeline shook her head. “Oh, no, it’s after ten,” she said. “During this time of year, the only thing open after ten is the Piggly Wiggly. So, if we just walk along this side street and then cut through the alleyway, you should be just fine.”
Following her direction, they were at the back of the library in a few minutes. Ian pulled the key Adeline had given him from his pocket, and Mary carefully shielded her flashlight beam so it illuminated the lock, but nothing else. The lock clicked and the doorknob turned. Ian glanced over his shoulder and smiled victoriously at Mary, then proceeded to push the door open. But the movement was stopped by a chain-lock on the other side. Ian tried again, but the chain held.
“Oh my,” Adeline said, shaking her head. “Why would they put a chain on the door?”
“Perhaps to prevent people from breaking in,” Mary suggested, tr
ying not to laugh.
Adeline glanced over at her. “Some people laugh at the most inappropriate moments,” she commented, trying to keep her lips from twitching too. “And I suppose I’m one of them.”
Mary laughed softly, but then stopped when she could see that Ian was not as amused as they were. “Oh, sorry,” she said.
“I dinna think I want to be found at the back door of the library with a fairly hysterical pregnant woman as my accomplice,” he said.
Mary turned to Adeline. “His Scottish gets more pronounced when he’s stressed,” she explained. “I noticed that about him.”
“Mary,” Ian said, not sounding amused.
“Do you think I should just pop into the library and unhook the chain?” Adeline asked with a giggle. “Before the Professor loses it?”
“I think that would be a wonderful idea,” Mary replied.
Ian pulled the door closed and sighed, loudly. They heard the clank of the chain hitting the surface of the door just as the policeman made himself known.
“Excuse me,” he said. “May I help you?”
“Oops,” Mary whispered.
“Good evening, officer,” Ian said. “Fine night for a walk, isn’t it?”
The officer took a stance next to them, his arms on his hips and his face unsmiling. “No, actually. It’s damn cold out here,” he said.
Mary moved out from behind Ian and smiled. “I’m afraid this is all my fault,” she explained. She placed her mittened hands over her protruding belly and smiled up at the officer. “I had a craving for dark chocolate ice cream, so we drove to the Piggly Wiggly to pick some out.” She leaned closer to the officer and lowered her voice. “He never seems to be able to pick out the right kind, so I insist on coming.”
“But the Piggly Wiggly is over there,” the officer said, motioning with his head.
“Yes, that’s true,” she said. “And actually, we haven’t even been inside the store yet to buy the ice cream because today, when we were shopping, one of the clerks told me that the library was haunted. I’m really interested in paranormal things. I watch all of those shows on television, you know like Ghost Discoverers. I even got to meet Dee, the new star of that show.” She took a deep breath and continued. “So, I begged Ian to bring me over here so I could peek in the windows. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think that it would be against the law.”
The officer studied Mary for a long moment and then turned to Ian. “Your first baby?” he asked.
Ian nodded. “Aye, it’s been a long eight months.”
The officer’s lips twitched. “I remember my wife always needed Chinese food,” he said. “In the middle of the night. I had to drive clear up to Madison to find an all-night Chinese place.”
“What a wonderful husband you are,” Mary said, and then she paused and turned to Ian. “Oh, you know, sweet and sour chicken sounds really good.”
The officer laughed and sent a look of sympathy in Ian’s direction. “They’ve got a deli in Piggly Wiggly that has pretty good Chinese,” he said. “That will save you the trip to Madison.”
“Thank you,” Ian replied. “I really appreciate it.”
Still chuckling, the officer tipped his hat at them. “Have a good night, folks,” he said. “And if you go around to the side of the library, there’s a window at shoulder height that will give you a better view.”
“Thank you so much,” Mary gushed.
“You’re welcome, ma’am,” he replied and continued down the alley.
“You are incorrigible,” Ian whispered, his smile wide. “And my sympathy for Bradley has just increased tenfold. How he ever denies you anything is beyond me.”
She smiled back. “Why, thank you,” she replied without an ounce of guilt. “But, you know, Chinese really does sound good.”
Chapter Thirty
The library door opened soundlessly behind him. “Hurry, get in before he comes back,” Adeline called urgently.
With a furtive glance down the alley, just to be sure they were unnoticed, Ian nodded to Mary. “Okay, no one’s watching,” he said and let her slip into the darkened building before he hurried in, closing and locking the door behind him.
“Do you think the policeman will be back?” Mary asked Adeline.
Adeline nodded. “Most assuredly,” she replied. “He takes his job very seriously. But the local history room has no windows, so we should be hidden in there.”
“Has he seen you?” Ian asked.
Adeline smiled widely. “Yes, he has,” she replied. “And he took it quite well. Just stared for a few long moments and then backed away from the window.” She grinned at Mary. “The very window he suggested to look through.”
She floated through the main stacks of the library, glowing softly so they didn’t have to use a flashlight to see where they were going. “It was a pleasant surprise,” Adeline continued. “Most law enforcement officials don’t believe in ghosts.”
Mary chuckled, instantly remembering Bradley’s first reaction when she told him about ghosts. “But they can be taught,” Mary whispered with a smile.
Ian glanced over and nodded. “Aye, and once they believe, they can become steadfast supporters,” he said.
Adeline opened a door in the far back corner of the library and glided inside. Mary and Ian followed, and Ian closed the door behind them. As soon as the door was closed, a dim light came on, casting most of the room into shadows. The room was small, about ten feet by ten feet, with a number of old, file cabinets against one wall and two computer stations in the center of the room. On another wall, a large bookcase held local history books, as well as books written by local authors.
Mary looked around the room. “Where do we start?” she asked.
One of the file cabinet drawers opened. “Here,” Adeline said, pointing at the drawer. “This is where I kept my file about Tony Lancaster.”
Ian came up beside her, looked through the drawer and then pulled out a thick file. “This is impressive,” he said.
“No,” she replied. “That’s just a start. I have three more files that size.”
Ian placed the first file on an old, library table next to the file cabinets and then retrieved the other three. He put his hands on his hips and stared down at the collection. “I’d thought to take photos of the files,” he said, shaking his head. “But going through all of this and taking photos would take all night.”
“Well, why don’t we just take them home?” Adeline asked.
“Don’t you think they’ll be missed?” Mary asked.
Adeline shook her head. “No, actually, the new librarian doesn’t have a lot of use for the local history room,” she explained. “The part-time librarian who is assigned to care for the collection generally has her hands full with restocking books and sending out fine notices when she does come in, work that, in my day, the head librarian did.”
“And how do we return them, once we’ve borrowed them?” Ian asked.
Adeline smiled at them. “Why, you just explain that you found them in my house,” she said, “while you were staying there. Heaven knows I took work home all the time. I just died before I could bring them back.”
“That’s brilliant,” Mary replied. Then she glanced around. “But how do we get them out of here without making anyone suspicious?”
Adeline floated over to a small closet in the back of the room and opened the door. “This was my supply closet,” she explained as she rustled through the items on the shelves. “And unless they’ve cleaned things out…” She paused for a moment.
“Here they are,” she cried triumphantly, pulling out two brown shopping bags with the logo of Piggly Wiggly on the side. “These will be perfect cover for you.”
Ian studied Adeline for a long moment. “Are you sure you weren’t a spy before you became a librarian?”
Adeline met his eyes but didn’t smile. “You will discover my past when it’s time,” she said to him.
“What do you mean?” he asked, co
nfused.
“All in good time,” she said with a finality that told Ian he was not going to get any more information from her that night. She nodded, and then her smile returned. “Now, then, let’s pack these files up before we’re discovered.”
No sooner had she said those words than they heard a noise outside the room and light spilled in from underneath the doorway.
Chapter Thirty-one
“Crap,” Mary whispered, reaching over and carefully turning the light off so it didn’t make a sound.
“I’ll see what’s going on,” Adeline said, gliding across the room and through the door.
“Bradley will not be pleased if I end up being arrested,” Mary whispered.
“But not surprised, right?” Ian replied softly, with a twinkle in his eye.
Mary had to clap her hand over her mouth to hold back the laughter, but she shook her head at Ian. Finally, when she knew she could control the laughter, she removed her hand. “That was very rude of you,” she whispered, a smile on her face. “But you’re right. He wouldn’t be surprised at all.”
Adeline reappeared, her face filled with anger. “She’s stealing,” she shouted. “She’s stealing from the library.”
“Who?” Ian asked quietly.
“The mayor’s sister, that’s who,” Adeline replied. “She’s got a better salary than I ever had, she does nothing but play on the computer all day, and now she has the nerve to steal the funds from the library!”
Mary pulled out her phone and started to dial.
“What are you doing?” Ian asked.
“Calling the police,” Mary replied.
“Are you forgetting that we are also illegally in the library and could get arrested?” he asked.
She paused for a moment, torn between pressing the call icon and saving themselves. She shook her head. “But, it’s a library,” Mary implored. “We can’t let her steal the money.”
