Broken Promises - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book 8)

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Broken Promises - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book 8) Page 16

by Terri Reid


  “My kitten,” she said slowly. “He must have killed my kitten.”

  “He might have been angry that you and your mother left,” Mary suggested.

  She walked back to the open bedroom door and looked at the kudzu on the walls. “And he left her in the yard. He didn’t even bury her,” she said. “He left her there so I would find her.”

  Mary followed her. “He wanted you to be afraid, Rosie,” she said. “His greatest power is fear.”

  She shook her head and walked into the room, to the vines on the wall. “You know, if you think about it, the kudzu only tried to give my kitten a proper burial,” she said. “Another couple of days and I would have never found her.”

  She reached forward and pulled a vine from the wall. It writhed in her hand, but she kept a tight hold on it. “It can’t hurt me,” she said, grasping it with both hands and ripping it in half. “It’s just a damn plant.”

  The black vine melted into thin air and the kudzu on the walls began to recede back into the closet.

  “Who else hid in your closet, Rosie?” Mary asked.

  Her head snapped up and she turned and stared at her friend. “Oh, you’re right. Mary, how could I forget that?” she asked, bewildered.

  “Our minds are wonderful instruments; they try to protect us from the things that frightened us. They often hide the things we can’t handle,” she said, she put her hand on Rosie’s shoulder. “But you can handle this now.”

  Nodding, Rosie walked over and stood in front of her closet. She took a deep breath. “Daddy, come out of the closet,” she yelled. “Dammit, you come out of that closet right now!”

  The darkness seemed to deepen and the door actually shook.

  “Remember, he wins when you’re afraid,” Mary whispered, coming up and standing behind her back. “Don’t show your fear, Rosie.”

  The ghost was tall and almost spider-like as he crept out of the closet. Darkness encompassed him and there was little left of his human form. His eyes glowed red and his teeth were sharp and pointed. He crawled toward Rosie. “What do you want, little girl?” he lisped, like a reptilian creature, his voice was slow and cold.

  Rosie looked over her shoulder, a frightened question on her face.

  “Tell him what you want,” Mary said, nodding her encouragement. “Tell him exactly what you want.”

  Rosie faced the creature, which was now looming over her. “I want you to leave me alone,” she said slowly. “I want you out of my life.”

  “You don’t mean that,” he replied. “You have always loved me. You told me so.”

  She swallowed. Her heart was pounding against her chest and the little girl inside wanted to dart under the covers. She could run, but she realized she would be running forever. This time, this once, she had to take a stand.

  “I didn’t love you,” she whispered, her mouth dry.

  “You’re lying to me girl,” he spit. “You know what happens when you lie.”

  She nearly flinched, nearly gave him the satisfaction. Then she turned and saw herself reflected in the mirror over her dresser. She saw the photos of the people who really loved her. Who taught her what love was all about.

  Instead of stepping back, she stepped forward and the ghost flinched. Rosie felt a surge a power. “I hated you,” she cried, releasing all of the feelings she had bottled up inside. “I hated how you treated me and my mother. Every night I prayed that you would die. You are evil, selfish and you are a coward.”

  “You wanted me,” he insisted, “I was giving you what you wanted.”

  “No, you weren’t, and you knew that,” she said sadly. “But, you can’t hurt me any longer. I am not afraid of you. I am stronger than you are. I can’t be manipulated any longer. You need to leave.”

  Mary noticed his size was diminished by Rosie’s words. “Tell him again,” she encouraged.

  “Go away,” Rosie said. “Never come back. You are not welcome here, you are not wanted here. Your body died a long time ago. But you were dead to me much, much earlier than that.”

  “You need me,” he said, as he shrunk back into the closet.

  Rosie shook her head. “No, I never needed you,” she said. “I needed a father who would protect me and that was never you.”

  “You are afraid of me,” he said, his voice thin and weak.

  She took hold of the closet door and laughed bitterly. “No, I’m not,” she said, and then realized what she was saying was true.

  Wonderment spread across her face. “No, I’m not. I’m not.”

  She watched him shrink away and disappear into the shadows of the closet. Closing the closet door firmly, she laid her head against it and took a deep breath.

  Mary walked over to her and placed her hand on Rosie’s shoulder. “You did it,” she said. “He’s gone and he’s never coming back.”

  Rosie turned so Mary could see the tears forming in her eyes. “Why am I sad?” she wept. “I really did hate him?”

  Mary wrapped her arms around her friend. “You’re just sad for what could have been, what should have been,” she said. “Fathers are supposed to protect their daughters. They are supposed to be our heroes. The ones we can turn to when things get bad. You never had that and the little girl in you is mourning for the loss.”

  Rosie wiped a hand over her eyes and nodded. “But I have friends who I can turn to.”

  “Always,” Mary said, leading her friend out of the room. “Always.”

  Rosie sniffed and leaned her head on Mary’s shoulder.

  “You know what I need?” she asked. “What I really need?”

  “Yeah, chocolate,” Mary replied. “Come on, my treat.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “The court would like to call Dr. Gracie Williams to the stand,” the clerk stated.

  The statuesque mahogany-colored woman stood slowly and glanced through lowered eyelashes at the clerk before making her way to the stand. He cleared his throat and loosened his neck collar before he approached her with the Bible.

  “Do you…,” he began, but his voice came out in a high-pitched squeak.

  He cleared his throat and held the Bible out. Gracie softly stroked the book with her fingertips before resting her hand on top of it.

  “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” he asked.

  She nodded and smiled at him. “Well, of course I do, sugar.”

  He cleared his throat once more. “Thank you,” he replied. “You may be seated.”

  She sat gracefully, her legs crossed at the knee and her hands folded modestly in her lap. She watched and waited, like a sleek tiger, for the attorney to approach.

  Lydia came forward. “Ms. Williams…”

  “That’s Dr. Williams,” she interrupted softly. “But you can call me Gracie.”

  Lydia nodded. “Thank you, Gracie. Can you state your occupation for the jury?”

  “Certainly, I’m a psychologist and I work for the Chicago Police Department.”

  “And what is involved in your kind of work for the Department?”

  “Well, it just depends on the day,” she said with a smile. “I could be working up a criminal profile on a serial killer, I could be counseling police officers or I could be performing psychiatric evaluations for the Department.”

  “I’d like to focus on psychiatric evaluations,” Lydia said.

  “I thought you might,” Gracie replied.

  “You evaluated Mary O’Reilly after she was shot,” Lydia stated.

  “Honey, I evaluated Mary O’Reilly when she was first hired, every time she was up for promotion and after she was shot,” Gracie said. “What would you like to know?”

  “In your professional opinion, is Mary O’Reilly delusional?” Lydia asked.

  Gracie’s loud laughter echoed in the courtroom. She looked at Mary, and they shared a wide smile. “I’m sorry, do you mean, you want to know if she’s nuts, in my professional opinion?”

 
Lydia looked slightly uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie,” Gracie added. “My bedside manner can be a little off-putting.”

  She turned to the jury. “Let me tell you a little about Mary O’Reilly,” she said, adjusting herself on the seat so she was turned in their direction. “I met Mary O’Reilly when she was a cadet in the Police Academy. She had just graduated with honors from college and could have easily gone on to law school. She had the brains and she was offered a scholarship. I remember the first thing I said to her, ‘Girl, are you nuts?’”

  Gracie laughed at her own joke and the jury laughed along.

  Sitting in the audience, Mary was able to smile at her friend, remembering the moment. The knots in her stomach loosening a little. Gracie is going to be an amazing witness, she thought. We are not going to lose this case because of me.

  Bradley reached over, took Mary’s hand and squeezed it. “How are you doing?” he whispered.

  She nodded slightly, trying to look positive. “I’m good,” she said.

  Please don’t hate me if we lose this case, she pleaded silently.

  He slid over on the bench, so he was pressed against her side. He leaned over, so his lips were next to her ear. “Without you we wouldn’t be here in this courtroom. Without you I would not know the truth about Jeannine and Clarissa. Without you we wouldn’t have had the chance to prosecute Copper,” he whispered. “And without you my life would be empty.”

  She turned her head and met his eyes. “I just wanted…,” she began.

  He gently put his finger on her lips. “I know, you wanted to fix everything,” he said with a wry smile. “But even you, Mary O’Reilly, are not responsible for how things turn out. Okay?”

  She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

  “Now enjoy Gracie’s testimony, because she’s good,” Bradley said, a twinkle in his eye.

  A real smile appeared on Mary’s face. “Yes. Yes, she is.”

  Gracie was continuing her testimony. “It was then I started to understand what made Mary tick. She explained that all she had ever wanted to do was become a police officer, like her dad, her granddad and her great-granddad. She told me it was an O’Reilly tradition. She wanted to risk her life to protect the people of Chicago. I told her she could have had more money, more prestige and a better wardrobe,” Gracie said, shaking her head. “But no, this was a calling.”

  She lifted her hand and placed it on her chest. “She was a police officer in her heart.”

  Leaning forward, she placed her hands on the ledge in front of her. “I interviewed Mary every couple of years or so, it’s mandatory for the Department,” she continued. “I’d never met a more well-adjusted, good-hearted person than Mary. She was the first to volunteer and the last to toot her own horn. We could use several dozen more like her.”

  “What happened after she was shot?” Lydia prompted.

  Gracie turned and nodded at Lydia. “What happened at the Department? We all were in shock. We walked through the halls, passing each other, tears in our eyes, not saying a word. But we were all praying, I can promise you that. We were all praying for her.”

  Bradley interlocked his fingers with Mary’s and held her hand in his.

  Gracie wiped away a little moisture from her eye and took a deep breath. “Unless you work on the force, with the force, you don’t really understand. We’re family…because we have to be. We’ve got each other’s backs and without that, we’re dead, literally. We know each other’s problems, from spouses to kids to money to the heartbreak of psoriasis. And Mary, well she was everyone’s kid sister.”

  Sitting back in her chair, she paused for a moment and you could see that she was struggling to maintain her composure. “When…when we heard that she had pulled through,” she paused again, blotting her eyes with a lacy handkerchief, “we just cried. From the biggest, toughest, meanest cop on the force to the ladies in the records department. And we weren’t ashamed of our tears. We felt like we had witnessed a miracle, because of the cops that had been on the scene. Cops that know. They didn’t hold out much hope for Mary.”

  “And after she recovered from her surgery?” Lydia prompted. “What happened then?”

  “Mary came to me before I had the chance to even set up an appointment,” Gracie said. “She told me she needed to talk with me. Said that something happened to her when she was in surgery.”

  She paused and let her gaze travel through the courtroom and rest on Mary. She smiled at her and nodded. “Now, let me tell you,” Gracie said. “Mary did not have to come to me. She didn’t have to report what happened to her. She could have gone on her way and passed any evaluation I had given to her. But that’s not Mary. She wanted to be sure that nothing in her new-found talent would disrupt her abilities or distract her from doing her job.”

  She turned back to the jury. “I’ve done a lot of reading on near-death experiences,” she said. “And what Mary describes is pretty much casebook. But then her story takes a slight detour. She’s given a choice. She could have gone on. All of those other folks in the cases I’ve read, they wanted to go on, wanted to go to the light, but they were turned away. Mary was given a choice and, because of her love for her family and her sense of duty, she came back. And when she came back, she had an extra sense.”

  Gracie sat back and folded her arms across her chest. “Now, people could say, ‘She must be nuts, she thinks she sees ghosts,’ and I can tell you, I put her through a battery of tests and she passed every one with flying colors. I can also tell you that there is a lot of conversation in the field of psychology about parapsychology, or the study of physic phenomenon. The only reason we doubt some of the information received through ‘psychic’ methods is because it was obtained or occurred through a mechanism that is currently unknown to the scientific world.”

  She paused for a moment. “Fifty years ago, if I told you I wanted to put a large needle into the belly of a pregnant woman and extract some amniotic fluid, and with that fluid I could predict the illnesses the unborn baby would have when he was eighty years old, you would probably think I was nuts. But, now, through DNA testing, we can spot genetic markers that show the potential risks for mental illness, autism and epilepsy not to mention hundreds of other rare or genetic diseases and disabilities.”

  “Just because we don’t understand something now, doesn’t mean it’s not true,” she concluded.

  “Thank you, Gracie,” Lydia said. “No further questions.”

  “Would the defending counsel…” the judge began.

  “Yes, we would, your honor,” Greg Thanner interrupted, making his way towards the witness stand.

  “You seem fond of Ms. O’Reilly,” he said to Gracie.

  Gracie nodded. “Yes, I am,” she replied, her voice was now tight and she looked down her nose at the man.

  “Would that fondness encourage you to gloss over some aspects of her mental health?”

  Gracie sat up straight and glared at the man. “I’m sorry, but did you just accuse me of perjury?”

  He shook his head,. “No, I…”

  “Because I don’t lie in court,” she continued. “I tell the truth. Even if it’s uncomfortable. Even if it might lose the court case. Even if it’s unbelievable. Because I believe in this system of justice.”

  Then she leaned forward and met his eyes. “And how about you? Do you ever lie in court?”

  “I am not the one on the witness stand,” he said, stepping back.

  “And you didn’t answer my question,” she responded.

  “Objection,” he cried, turning to the judge. “The witness is not supposed to be questioning the defense.”

  “Sustained,” the judge said, a smile passing over her features. “However, I would suggest the defense not accuse the witness of perjury.”

  He turned back to Gracie. “Do you believe Mary O’Reilly to be an honest person?” he asked.

  “Honey, weren’t you listening to the first part of my testimony at
all?” Gracie asked. “Don’t be wasting my time here on the stand. I said she was honest, loyal, brave, and all those other things the Boy Scouts are. This girl is true blue.”

  “Ms. Williams…” he began.

  “That would be Dr. Williams,” she interrupted.

  “Gracie,” he began again.

  “No, honey, that would be Dr. Williams,” she repeated.

  “You don’t like me, do you?”

  “Honey, I don’t know you,” she replied. “And if you’re trying to pick me up, well, let me clue you in. You ain’t my type.”

  Thanner’s face turned red and he glared at Gracie. “Dr. Williams, is there any way to verify that Ms. O’Reilly is telling the truth?”

  “Sure there is, give her a lie detector test,” she replied.

  “Why didn’t the Police Department give her a lie detector test before they allowed her to have access to disability?” Thanner asked. “Don’t you think it would be been wise to see if she was lying about her…ability?”

  Gracie leaned forward. “Well, if you had done your homework and read those little reports you have in your hand,” she said, “You would see that we did give her a lie detector test. And you would also see that she passed the test with flying colors. She’s not lying about her ability to see ghosts.”

  “Do you believe in ghosts, Dr. Williams?” Thanner asked, his face twisted with scorn.

  “Mr. Thanner, I believe in God,” she said pointedly. “And I believe in angels. I believe in things I can’t see, like faith and love. Why not ghosts? Why wouldn’t those who have gone on before us get a chance to visit again?”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” he countered.

  “Yes, Mr. Thanner, I believe in ghosts,” she said.

  “No further questions, your honor,” Thanner said.

  Gracie stood and took a moment to smile at the jury before she walked across the courtroom, like a model on a catwalk. She paused for a moment at Mary’s row. “He’s a hunk,” she said, nodding towards Bradley. “I’d keep hold of him if I were you.”

  Mary grinned at her. “Oh, I intend to,” she replied.

  “That’s my girl,” Gracie said. “You take care now.”

 

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