by Reid, Terri
Shoving an oversized helping of macaroni and cheese into her mouth, Clarissa nearly choked, rather than answer the question.
Mary took another sip of water and acted as if she didn’t realize Clarissa was being rude. “I’m so glad you changed your mind about the dinner,” she said brightly. “It seems as though you were starving. Would you like a little more?”
Clarissa set down her fork, glared at Mary across the table and then darted from the room and up the stairs. Sighing, Mary collected up the empty plate and utensils and took them over to the sink.
“I would have gotten my bottom spanked for that kind of behavior,” Mike said, appearing next to the counter. He looked down at the casserole and smiled. “Now that looks, excuse the pun, heavenly.”
“Thanks,” Mary replied, stepping over and taking one more taste. “It really tastes good too. And I don’t seem to be able to resist it.”
“So, why didn’t you?” he asked.
“Why didn’t I what? Tan her hide?” Mary replied with a smile.
“Yeah, or stand her in the corner, or give her a time out, or whatever it is parents do these days.”
Giving up, Mary pulled a bowl from the cabinet, filled it with the macaroni and cheese and brought it over to the table. She sat down and took a bite before replying. “Today I sat with a woman who learned that her daughter had been killed eight years ago,” Mary said. “She had a feeling it had happened, but today I had the distinct privilege of confirming that for her. Killing any hope she might have had lingering in her heart.”
Mike leaned over and placed his hand over hers. “Mary, I’m sorry.”
She shrugged, wiping a stray tear away. “Well, anyway, I guess Clarissa’s temper tantrum didn’t seem to be that big of a deal, considering,” she said. “And it must be tough for her to adjust, once again, to our new household.”
She took another bite and then smiled. “Besides, I’m the stepmother,” she said. “I think it’s my duty to be exceptionally nice and remove the stigma that has been perpetrated by storytellers for generations.”
Smiling, Mike nodded. “I’m sure stepmothers all over the world are thanking you for your patience. But have you considered what lesson she learned tonight?”
Mary took another bite and contemplated his comment. Finally, she spoke, “Well, let’s see…she was rude and demanding and didn’t want to eat what I had made for her. I was polite and firm and didn’t let her bully me or make me angry. She ended up eating what I had cooked and I didn’t let her bother me. I think she learned that polite and firm wins.”
Mike wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know, Mary,” he said. “Something tells me she has not even begun to fight.”
“Mike, don’t worry,” Mary said. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Driving slowly through the streets of Freeport, he checked his review mirror a number of times. So far no one seemed to be following him, but he had been spooked by the meeting with the Chief of Police all day. Did he know something more than he let on, he wondered. Was he just waiting for someone to show fear?
He pulled to a stop at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green and thought about the little girl waiting for him in his basement and, for a moment, the worries of the day disappeared. He slowly moistened his lips with his tongue, anticipating how she would taste. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as he envisioned her young slender form. He smiled when he thought about the stark fear burning in her eyes as he taught her the lessons of the day.
He had always wanted to be a teacher, he thought, his mood turning melancholy. He had always wanted to be near children. Small children. Little girls.
The harsh beep of a car’s horn startled him. He looked around, surprised that cars were moving around him and the light had been green for a while. He smiled into his rearview mirror, waved at the car behind him in apology as he accelerated and moved through the intersection. Insolent idiot, he silently fumed at the driver, go around me next time. I’m sure you don’t have anything to do that’s as important as what I have to do.
Turning right onto the residential road, he entered the tree-covered lane and felt some of the anxiety lessen. The houses that bordered the meandering street were set far apart from each other and backed up to the edge of Krape Park. It was like entering a hidden valley, where you could find solitude, rest and privacy. His smile widened. Privacy. Yes, that is very important to me and all of the students who have enjoyed the pleasure of my tutelage.
A discreet tap on the remote had the large gates to his driveway opening for him. He drove through, smiling wryly at the words on the bronze plaque inserted into the stone post on the left side. Pine Haven. He pressed the remote again and the gates closed and locked.
The evening was clear and calm, so he rolled down his window and enjoyed the pungent smell from all of the young pines trees that had been planted during the past ten years in his large yard. “Hello girls,” he whispered. “Soon another young sapling will join your ranks.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
“Daddy, I’m so glad you’re home!” Clarissa cried, leaping off the bottom step and throwing herself into his arms as he walked through the door.
“Clarissa, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Bradley asked, kneeling down and embracing the sobbing child.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she wept. “I was so afraid.”
Holding her shoulders, he gently pushed her back a little to look at her face. “Why are you afraid?”
“Because Mary hates me,” she whimpered. “She doesn’t want me to be here. She told Mike that you were going to abandon me.”
Bradley looked up to see surprise on Mary’s face as she hurried into the living room. “Clarissa, I don’t hate you,” she said, kneeling down next to the child. “And I’m very sorry that you misunderstood me. But your father and I are not going to abandon you.”
She laid her hand on Clarissa’s shoulder, only to have it shrugged off as Clarissa clung to her father. “She’s lying,” she cried. “She made me eat dinner tonight all by myself and even when I told her my stomach hurt, she still made me eat it. I had to go upstairs and throw up.”
“What?” Mary asked. “You didn’t tell me you were sick.”
Burying her head deeper into her father’s shoulder, she continued to cry. “I tried to tell her, but she was too busy laughing with Mike,” she said. “She never, ever listens to me. She just sends me up to my room as soon as I get home from school.”
Bradley met Mary’s eyes over his daughter’s head and saw that she was deeply troubled by Clarissa’s accusations. He also knew that Mary would never do anything to cause harm or discomfort to the child. But something was up with Clarissa and he didn’t think he would be able to find out while she was in Mary’s presence. He winked at Mary and sent her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, picked Clarissa up in his arms and carried her toward the stairs. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said. “Let’s have a little talk.”
Her heart sinking, Mary watched Bradley and Clarissa go upstairs. She really wanted to follow, wanted to be part of the conversation to find out what in the world was happening with Clarissa. But she knew it wouldn’t be helpful, so she sat down on the couch and waited.
“No one told me kids could be so difficult,” Mike said, appearing next to her on the couch.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Mary replied. “From her description, you’d think I was the evil stepmother.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I can’t believe you were going to abandon her.”
Mary turned quickly to face him. “Mike,” she said sharply.
Grinning, he shook his head. “I was joking,” he replied. “We all know she was being overly dramatic. We also all know you and know you would die before either hurting Clarissa or letting someone else hurt her. So, stop worrying and let Bradley handle it.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Babe, I’m always ri
ght,” he said. “See, that’s where you made your mistake. I was Mr. Right and you didn’t see it.”
A shadow of a smile flitted across her face. “Mike, you were already dead.”
“Babe, then I was dead-right.”
Shaking her head and chuckling, she stood up and walked toward the kitchen. “Well, I guess I should put some of the dinner things away until Bradley gets downstairs,” she said. “I don’t want his dinner to be ruined.”
“Hey, he’ll be down in a few minutes,” he said. “I heard Clarissa asking him to read her a story.”
“She’ll probably ask for the entire Encyclopedia Britannica,” Mary muttered.
Shaking his head, Mike floated over. “No, I think she asked for the Old Testament,” he teased. “But at least it has a good message.”
Groaning, Mary shook her head. “You are really not helping,” she said.
“Hey, don’t worry about it kid,” he said softly and then he grinned. “This too shall pass.”
“Go away,” she chuckled.
He started to fade. “Your wish is my command,” he teased. “I’ll go upstairs and keep an eye on things.”
Mary filled the dishwasher, cleaned the counters and did anything else she could to keep herself busy in the kitchen while she waited for Bradley to come downstairs. Finally, after waiting for an hour, she opened the freezer, pulled out a pint of dark chocolate ice cream and opened a drawer and pulled out a spoon. “I’ll just have a couple of spoonfuls,” she promised herself as she headed to her recliner to watch the news.
Thirty minutes later, the news program ended and Mary looked down in dismay at the empty container of ice cream in her hand. “Well, so much for self-control,” she said. “I’ll just have a salad for dinner whenever Bradley comes down.”
Bringing the container and spoon back into the kitchen, she was slightly alarmed when she saw that it was already past ten o’clock. “If he stays up there much longer, I’ll be making him breakfast.”
Hurrying up the stairs, she walked softly down the hallway, trying to make as little noise as possible. Standing outside Clarissa’s bedroom door, she grasped the door handle and waited, listening for any sounds coming from the room. Finally, she slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open slightly. Through the light from the bedside lamp, she could see that Clarissa was sound asleep in her bed and Bradley was sleeping in the rocking chair next to her. Smiling wryly, she tiptoed into the room and bent close to Bradley’s ear. “Bradley,” she whispered. “You need to go to bed.”
“Mmmmmm?” he whispered back, his eyes not opening.
She gently jiggled his shoulder. “You need to go to bed,” she repeated softly. “Or you will have a terrible backache in the morning.”
Opening his eyes, he looked up at her and smiled. “Hi,” he said. Then everything seemed to click into place as he looked around the room and saw Clarissa asleep in her bed. He turned back to Mary and shook his head. “Oh, Mary, I’m so sorry.”
She kissed him on the cheek and smiled. “No problem,” she said. “I know you were exhausted. Do you want something to eat or do you just want to sleep?”
He stood, nearly stumbling, and she led him out of the room, closing the door softly behind them. He yawned widely and leaned against the wall. “I think I’m more tired than hungry,” he said. “Do you mind?”
“No, actually, I find that I’m not very hungry either,” she replied. “Let’s just go to bed.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Mary grabbed another Diet Pepsi from the little refrigerator in her office and glanced at the clock; it was only nine thirty. It’s going to be a very long day.
Sitting back down at her desk, she opened the file Celia had left for her and started reading through all of the case files. “Hey, you got another one of those?” a female voice asked.
Mary looked up and was surprised to see Tracey Bresnahan, the writer turned spy, standing inside her office. “How did you…” Mary began, looking up at the small bell over her front door.
“Trick of the trade,” Tracey interrupted with a smile. “So, how’s married life?”
Getting up and pulling another soda out of the refrigerator, Mary gave herself a moment to school her thoughts. It wouldn’t do to give too much of their private life away to Tracey and the organization she worked with. “Married life is great,” Mary finally replied, handing Tracey the drink. “Although I have to admit, it’s tough getting back to reality once you’ve been on an extended honeymoon.”
Sitting down in the chair on the other side of the desk, Tracey leaned back, took a sip of the Diet Pepsi and sighed. “I remember my honeymoon,” she said. “We went camping. It was not nearly as romantic or comfortable as a castle in Scotland.”
So, we are going to chit chat for a while, Mary thought. Okay, I can play that game.
“It was wonderful,” Mary said. “I could get used to living in the lap of luxury.”
Tracey placed the can on a coaster on the desk and met Mary’s eyes. “I understand that someone from the agency met with you when you were there,” she said.
So much for chit chat.
“Yes, we went into town and met him at a local pub,” Mary said. “It was quite an interesting meeting.”
Chuckling, Tracey nodded. “More interesting for him because of all the notoriety you two had garnered.”
Shrugging, Mary bit back a smile. “Well, I had no idea that Headless Hannah had been such a celebrity in the area. She was a lovely woman, once you got to know her, and deserved her rest.”
“Yes, and the staff and most of the countryside considered you a hero for helping her get that rest,” Tracey replied.
“Well,” Mary did allow herself to smile, “I suppose it would be a little disconcerting to have a woman walk into your bedroom at night carrying her head on a platter.”
Shaking her head, Tracey picked up her soda once again, she lifted it as a toast in Mary’s direction. “Well, here’s to you for not only getting rid of a celebrated ghost, but for knocking the socks off the London office.”
“I knocked their socks off?” she replied, pleased with herself.
“Yes, and that’s why I’m here,” Tracey said.
Send me back to Scotland, Mary pleaded silently, Until Clarissa is sixteen years old.
“Something wrong?” Tracey asked, cocking her head slightly, trying to read Mary’s face.
“No, I’m just adjusting to having a husband, an eight-year-old daughter and a business,” she answered. “It’s a little challenging.”
“I should say so,” Tracey agreed, “which is why I think you’ll be pleased with the agency’s decision.”
“And that is?”
“The agency wants you and Bradley to maintain your covers,” she said, “Especially while you are raising children. You aren’t going to be field agents yet, only consultants, but they can call you into service under certain extenuating circumstances.”
“And that means?” Mary asked.
Tracey smiled. “That means you’re stuck in Freeport at least until Clarissa is an older teen and capable of taking care of herself.”
“Wait,” Mary said. “Not that I’m not appreciative of their sensibilities, but I don’t get this.”
“The agency is interested in you and Bradley as a unique husband and wife team,” she said. “They have noted how well you work together. They have also found, however, when there are small children at home, agents in the field make mistakes because they are worried about what’s going on at home, rather than the objective. They would rather use you both, as the need warrants, as consultants, then wait for a few years and use you both as field agents.”
“So, when Clarissa is a teenager, they will start using us as field operatives?” Mary asked.
Tracey nodded. “Well, unless you have additional children and then they would wait until the youngest is old enough to be independent.”
“The likelihood of me getting pregnant is somewhere between
slim and none,” Mary said.
“Okay then, you’ll be qualified for field work in eight years or so,” Tracey said. “But I have a feeling we’ll be using you for consulting much sooner than that.”
Standing, Tracey leaned over the table and extended her hand. Mary stood and shook Tracey’s hand. “Thanks for stopping by,” Mary said.
“I’m really looking forward to working with you,” Tracey said. “I’ll be in touch.”
Once Tracey had left her office, Mary sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. She could really use a nap. She had tossed and turned all night, concerned about Clarissa’s behavior, and when she had finally fallen asleep she found herself dreaming the same dream from the night before, searching for the lost child.
“I am just losing it,” she murmured.
Smiling briefly, she remembered waking up and curling into Bradley’s embrace. He had held her as she told him about the dream and then he kissed her in a way that woke up every single cell in her body. They had just begun making up for their missed opportunities the night before when Clarissa yelled for him.
Mary sighed and took another sip of soda. She is an eight-year-old child, she told herself. She is not doing this on purpose. She is a little confused and is just trying to figure things out. That’s all.
Chapter Twenty-nine
“It was so great last night,” Clarissa laughed as she pushed herself higher on the swing. “I told Bradley that Mary hated me and she made me eat food so I would be sick.”
“What did she make you eat?” Maggie asked, swinging next to her.
“Macaroni and cheese,” Clarissa replied.
“But that’s your favorite, why did it make you sick?”
“It didn’t really make me sick,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I just told him that, so he would hate her.”
“But he loves her,” Maggie said.