by Terri Reid
She sighed and shook her head. Nope, she thought, the sarcasm didn’t even faze him.
“Did you know that reading another person’s mail is a federal offense?” she asked.
Still reading, he shook his head. “No, opening another person’s mail is a federal offense,” he replied easily. “Reading it, after it’s been opened, is just rude and nosy.”
Mary snorted softly. “Well, at least you admit it,” she said.
Stanley looked at her over the top of the letter. “So, why is the Stephenson County D.A. looking to sign a contract with you?” he asked.
“Alex came with Bradley yesterday when I found the body,” she replied with a shrug. “I don’t know why he’d want me on the case.”
“Because he’s a might smarter than I thought he were,” Stanley replied. “O’ course he wants you on the case. Dadgummit, you can actually speak with the victim. He’d be a fool not to hire you.”
She stepped up, took hold of the letter and eased it from his hands. “Stanley, I don’t know if I can do this,” she said. “This is a current homicide with a murderer running around loose.”
Stanley stared at her. “Yeah. So?” he asked.
“It’s dangerous,” she said.
“Since when have you run away from danger?”
She sighed. “Since yesterday,” she admitted. “When I got so overwhelmed I nearly lost it.”
He shook his head. “Now listen to me, girlie. You are one of the best private investigators I’ve ever known, and it ain’t got nothing to do with your special gift,” he said. “It’s got to do with your instinct, your training and your intelligence. And most of your cases pay you squat, diddly and nada. You got a new baby coming. You got a daughter and a husband, and you got bills. So, sometimes you should think about maybe making some real cash.”
She sighed and looked down at the letter. “It really is quite a bit of money, isn’t it?”
“Couldn’t hurt to have a conversation with them,” he said, biting back a smile. “And I like the part where it says it’s a flat fee. So, you solve the crime in a couple of days, you still get the big payout.”
Nodding slowly, she studied the letter once more. “This kind of money could be very helpful,” she agreed, and then she looked up at him. “But what if I feel overwhelmed again?”
Stanley shrugged. “All that means is you might need a little help,” he said. “I think you could take this one on.”
“You’re right,” she agreed, and then she smiled at him. “Thanks for being rude and nosy.”
He chuckled softly. “Just doing what I do best, girlie,” he teased. “And now, iffen I happen to have one of those cream-filled chocolate long johns left in the breakroom, you want me to sneak it over here for you?”
She thought about the breakfast she and Clarissa had finished about an hour ago. Actually, she’d just had fruit and toast. She could probably justify a long john. Her smile widened. “That would be amazing,” she replied.
“Okay, you make the call to Alex,” he said. “And I’ll reconnoiter over in our breakroom and see what I can come up with.”
Chapter Twenty
Mary slipped into her chair and studied the letter once more. “Do I really want to do this?” she whispered. Then she thought about the money and smiled widely. “Yes. Yes, I really do.”
Placing the letter on the desk in front of her, she picked up her cell phone and dialed the number. After a moment, a receptionist answered the phone. “Stephenson County District Attorney,” the friendly voice answered. “How can I help you?”
“Hello. May I speak with Alex Boettcher?” Mary asked.
“Certainly,” was the reply. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Mary O’Reilly-Alden,” she replied. “In regards to a letter he sent me.”
“Of course. I’ll connect you immediately.”
After a brief moment on hold, Mary heard the connection on the other end pick up. “Mary,” Alex said. “I hope I’m going to be happy to hear from you.”
Smiling at his comments, Mary leaned back in her chair, a little more relaxed. “Well, that’s an interesting comment,” she said.
“Bradley was pretty sure you were going to turn me down,” he admitted. “But maybe I shouldn’t have said anything about that.”
Chuckling, Mary shook her head. “Actually, he didn’t talk to me about it at all,” she admitted. “But it was kind of a crazy night for him.”
“Yeah, I heard about the search,” he said. “Any luck?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “He was too tired to talk about it this morning.”
“I wish he would have called me,” Alex said. “I would have come out and searched with him and his team.”
“But wouldn’t that give whoever you prosecute the ability to accuse you of tampering with the evidence?’ Mary asked.
“I don’t know,” Alex replied. “It just depends on who we’re going after.”
“I think I might have an idea,” Mary said.
“Okay, don’t say another word until we both sign that contract,” he said. “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
“Wait. What?” Mary asked. “I don’t know if I’m going to—”
“Mary, I need you on my team to solve this crime,” Alex said bluntly. “Are you going to turn me down?”
“Well, no, of course not,” she stammered. “When you put it that way.”
“Good, I’ll be over in a couple of minutes,” he replied.
“But…” Mary sighed and stared at her phone for a moment when it was obvious that he had disconnected before she was able to stop him. She placed her phone on the top of the desk and leaned back farther in her chair. “Well, I suppose you don’t get to be a D.A. without going after what you want.”
“You talking to yourself again, girlie?” Stanley asked as he entered the office balancing a long john on a paper plate. He gestured with the plate in her direction. “Lookie what I found.”
He sat down in the chair across from her and slid the plate onto her desk.
“Thank you so much,” she replied, sitting forward and picking up the long john. Taking a bite, she closed her eyes in ecstasy, relishing the creamy smoothness of the Bavarian cream and the crisp layers of the light doughnut pastry. “This is so good.”
“So, why was you talking to yourself?” he asked.
She swallowed and shrugged. “I called Alex, and he was a little more…” she paused to find the right word. “Aggressive. Maybe assertive. I don’t know. He stopped me before I could tell him some crucial evidence about the case. Told me I couldn’t say a word until I signed the contract. He’s on his way now. He really didn’t even give me the chance to turn him down.”
Stanley’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like this, Mary,” he said. “Seems a might more than pushy to me. Seems secretive. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed.”
Mary nearly choked on the second bite of long john. “Excuse me?” she murmured around the pastry. “Aren’t you the one who suggested…no, insisted I call him?”
“Well, maybe I did and maybe I didn’t,” he replied. “But you need to take precautions. What’s going on at the District Attorney’s office that makes him want to sign his contract before talking about the case? Sounds a little iffy to me, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to it,” she said. “I just think he’s a slightly overzealous person and he wants to talk to me in person.”
Stanley leaned back in the chair, extended his legs and crossed one ankle over the other. “Well, I suppose he’s going to be talking to both you and your new assistant,” Stanley stated decidedly.
Mary nearly choked again. “My new assistant?” she gasped.
“Yep,” he said with a nod. “And I ain’t making no coffee.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Alex walked through the door to Mary’s office with another, older, dark-suited man. Mary could see that he was not pleased with his compa
nion and sent a quick look of apology in Mary’s direction. “Hi, Mary,” he said. Then he turned to Stanley. “Stanley. Good to see you.”
“We’ll see if it is or if it ain’t,” Stanley said. “What did you bring him for?”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Mary, have you ever met our county board president?” he asked.
Mary shook her head and pushed herself out of her chair. “I thought you looked familiar,” she said. “But no, I don’t think we’ve ever met in person.”
The man cast a quick glance around Mary’s humble office and sniffed with disdain. “This is your only office?” he asked.
“Nah, she’s got one on Michigan Avenue in Chicago,” Stanley inserted before Mary could answer. “But she prefers hanging around with the little people. You know, folks like you.”
Biting back a smile, Mary extended her hand. “I’m Mary O’Reilly-Alden,” she offered in a voice that held a bit of coolness and reserve. “And you are?”
“Sargent. Montgomery Sargent,” the man replied tersely.
“Had a dog named Sargent once,” Stanley said. “Stupidest creature ever born. Why that dog would lay in his own—”
“Stanley,” Mary interrupted sharply.
With a mild shrug and a grin, Stanley nodded. “Just trying to make small talk,” he chuckled.
“Mary,” Alex explained, “I met Monty as I was leaving my office. He insisted on coming along.”
“No, that’s fine,” Mary said.
“I’m sure it’s more than fine,” Monty said to Alex, once again casting his glance around the small office space. “I’m sure she could use the money.”
Anger and pride bubbled up inside Mary’s chest. “I’m so sorry to have wasted your time,” she said evenly, anxious to turn both of them away. “But I’ve just looked at my calendar, and unfortunately…”
A look of desperation from Alex stopped her, and she sighed. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to start until this afternoon,” she finished, the words tasting sour and unpalatable.
“No. That’s great,” Alex replied, mouthing the words ‘thank you.’ “This afternoon’s just great. Let’s sign that contract.”
“Not so fast, Boettcher,” Montgomery said. “This is the county’s money that’s paying her fee.” He turned to Mary. “Just what kind of credentials do you have?”
“You don’t have to do this, girlie,” Stanley said.
Mary sighed and shook her head. “No, Stanley, I do,” she replied. “I really do.”
Bending, she opened the file drawer on her desk and pulled out a large binder. She placed it in the center of the desk, turned it so it faced Montgomery and then opened it up. “Here are a few letters of recommendation, also my rank and classification from the Chicago Police Department,” she said. “Please feel free to look through them and I would be happy to answer any questions you have.”
Mary smiled inwardly when she saw Montgomery’s eyes widen as he read the recommendation from the Illinois senator who used to reside in Galena. He glanced up at her. “You did work for Senator Ryerson?” he asked.
Mary nodded. “Yes, I did,” she said simply, letting the very complimentary letter speak for itself.
Montgomery turned the page and blanched slightly. “You worked undercover with the Chicago Police Department?” he asked.
She nodded. “It was an internal issue, so they needed a consultant.”
He flipped another page. “Sir Ian MacDougal? You know MacDougal?”
She shrugged easily, hiding her satisfaction. “We worked together for several months,” she said. “He needed my help with some of the research he was performing.”
“I’ve read about him. He’s…he’s a millionaire,” Montgomery stuttered.
“At least a millionaire,” Stanley inserted, a wide smile on his face. “Mary here’s been a guest at his castle. You did know he owned a castle, didn’t you?”
Montgomery turned to Stanley. “Yes, I knew that,” he stated.
Stanley nodded. “He ever invite you to stay there?” he asked, his hairy eyebrows raised.
Montgomery turned away from Stanley and flipped another page of the book.
“Sorry, I didn’t quite get your answer,” Stanley said, raising his voice slightly. “You ever been to MacDougal Castle?”
“No,” Montgomery growled. “I have never been there.”
“Well, that’s a shame. That’s a damn shame,” Stanley replied. “Iffen you’d like, I can give Ian a call and ask him for an invite for you. Because I have his private cell number on my phone.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Montgomery replied, his teeth grinding.
“Well, no problem,” Stanley said. “I was going to be calling him anyhows to tell him how some uppity county board president was rude to Mary.”
“Stanley,” Mary chastised him softly. “Stop.”
Shaking his head, Montgomery looked at Mary. “No, he’s right,” he admitted. “I’ve been an ass. And I do apologize. We would be honored to have you work with us.” He held out his hand for Mary to shake.
“Thank you,” she replied, her smile warming. “It will be interesting working with you.” She turned to Alex. “Now, when do you want to talk about the actual case?”
Chapter Twenty-two
“So, you’re saying that Mary put herself in danger in order to solve Jeannine’s murder?” Bill asked Margaret.
“Mary’s from a long line of law enforcement professionals,” Margaret explained. “I think she felt that she was only doing what was right, what she was supposed to do.”
Joyce shook her head. “I had no idea,” she confessed. “Bradley told us about the kidnapping and Jeannine’s death, but I had no idea that Mary had…”
She looked over at Margaret. “I have to admit that I was angry with your daughter,” she said quietly. “She was going to marry Jeannine’s husband, and they were going to raise Jeannine’s child. It wasn’t fair.”
“No, you’re right. It wasn’t fair,” Margaret acknowledged. “But Mary wasn’t responsible for Jeannine’s death. She and Jeannine worked together to solve the case, and Jeannine was happy for Mary and Bradley. Jeannine told Mary that she wanted Bradley to be happy and move on with his life.”
Margaret took a deep breath and continued. “And I think she’d want both of you to do the same,” she said.
Joyce placed her head in her hands and didn’t speak for a few moments. Then she looked up, tears running down her cheeks. “It’s so easy for you to say it,” she sobbed. “You didn’t lose a daughter. You have no idea.”
Nodding, Margaret met Joyce’s eyes. “I can tell you it wasn’t easy for me to say it,” she replied. “I believe you have the right to grieve in any way you choose. Everyone has to deal with death in their own way. But, the reason I needed to come by today is not about you or about my daughter. It’s about Jeannine and her daughter.”
“What do you mean?” Bill asked.
“How do you think your daughter feels about her own parents not getting to know Clarissa?” Margaret asked. “You lost your daughter. Why are you throwing away your chance to get to know your granddaughter?”
“I…I didn’t think…” Joyce began.
“You have been so caught up in your own grief that you haven’t looked around to see others grieving beside you,” Margaret stated boldly. “Don’t you think that Bradley still grieves for her? Don’t you think Clarissa still wonders about her mother?”
Joyce shook her head. “Sure, blame us. Blame me,” Joyce cried. “But your daughter never made us welcome. Never really wanted us to come to their home.”
Margaret felt her temper rising. She knew Mary had done nothing but welcome both Bill and Joyce. Joyce’s comments were totally unwarranted. She closed her eyes for a quick moment and prayed for patience.
When she opened her eyes, she looked at Joyce and saw a woman with a broken heart, who was not only fearful but also consumed in grief. Margaret felt sympathy well up in her heart, and
rather than argue, she took a deep breath and stood up, softly pushing her chair away from the table. “I’m sure I’ve overstayed my welcome,” she said, her voice both patient and kind. “And I’ve probably said more than I should have. So, I’m going to let myself out.”
She put the album in the middle of the table. “This is actually an extra copy of photos I already have,” she said. “So these are yours to keep. I’ve also included information about Clarissa’s surprise birthday party. Mary and Bradley are celebrating it on Thanksgiving Day. I understand that Mary sent an invitation to you, but perhaps it was lost in the mail.”
She placed her hand on Joyce’s shoulder. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me. If you decide to come on Thanksgiving, please know that you will be more than welcomed.”
Turning, she walked down the hallway, which seemed much longer this time, and let herself out the door, closing it firmly behind herself. Once she was out in the fresh air, she took a deep breath and strode down the path to her car.
“I only pray I’ve done more good than harm,” she said to herself as she unlocked the door and slipped inside. “And only time will tell.”
Chapter Twenty-three
The bell rang above Mary’s office door as Bradley entered. His eyes went directly to Mary and he smiled. “Good morning,” he said, his voice still a little rough.
“Morning,” she replied, smiling back at him. “How are you feeling?”
He grinned and rolled his head. “Like I spent the night in a field,” he replied. He lifted his hand to his face. “Thanks for the fussing this morning. It helped.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied. “Why aren’t you still sleeping?”
“Lucky decided I’d stayed in bed long enough,” he replied. “She was serenading me outside the bedroom door.” He sighed. “We have a very determined kitten.”
Mary smiled at him. “Sorry,” she said.
He shrugged. “It was time to get up anyway,” he admitted. He finally looked at Stanley and Alex sitting across the desk from Mary and nodded. “Morning, gentlemen,” he said. “What’s new?”
