Treasured Legacies - a Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery

by Terri Reid

  “Mary. Mary, wake up,” Bradley said softly.

  “What? What’s wrong?” she asked wearily, trying to fully wake up.

  “You were having a bad dream,” he said. “You were calling out in your sleep and you were thrashing around like something was attacking you.”

  The baby! she thought. I was dreaming about a baby.

  “Did I say anything?” she asked.

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t in a language I understood,” he replied with a crooked smile. “Something like ‘oooo-ooo” and ‘ahhhh-ahhhh.’ I thought you might be conversing with chimpanzees.”

  “Funny,” she said, rolling towards him and resting her hand on his shoulder. “Sorry I woke you up.”

  “Hey, that’s okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I was actually just sitting here, watching you sleep.”

  She yawned and cuddled closer. “Watching me sleep?” she asked. “Well, that’s exciting and a little creepy.”

  Chuckling softly, he laid his cheek on her head. “Well, it’s about as exciting as I want for now.”

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  Nodding, he leaned back in his pillow. “Right now, things are great. But I was just thinking about how many times I’ve nearly lost you in the past year,” he said. “And all of the other things we’ve gone through. No wonder we’re stressed.”

  “Who’s stressed?” she asked. “I’m not stressed.”

  “No, nightmares with chimpanzees chasing you are normal.”

  “Well, maybe I’ve been watching the National Geographic channel,” she countered. “It could be that simple.”

  “Mary, the first year of marriage is hard enough,” he said. “Two people adjusting to living life together, that’s stress enough. Then when you add in all the other things in our lives.”

  “But, those things are part of our lives, our jobs,” she said. “It’s just who we are.”

  He tightened his arms around her. “I just don’t want any more bad things to happen to you.”

  Turning, she placed a kiss on his bare chest. “Well, some of the things were good things, right?”

  She ran her hand seductively across his chest. “Right?” she repeated.

  He gently stroked her back in return. “Um, hmm,” he whispered, feeling the heat grow. “Very good things.”

  Trying to keep the mood light, because of her injuries, he kissed her lightly on the top of her head again. “I just want to make sure we don’t add stress to our lives. Don’t get ourselves worked up over nothing.”

  Biting back a smile, she leaned over and kissed him again. “I’m already worked up.”

  He looked down at her. “How are you feeling?” he asked. “Physically?”

  Grinning with eyes sparkling, she teased. “You tell me.”

  With a sigh of relief, he ran his hands slowly up the sides of her body. “I think you feel good, really good.”

  “Mmmmm,” she purred. “I think I feel great.”

  He rolled to his side, so he was leaning over her, then bent over and started nuzzling her neck. “Let’s see if we can’t upgrade great to amazing,” he murmured.

  She felt the heat growing in her body and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Okay,” she moaned softly. “And afterward, we can talk about…” she gasped when he stroked her body. “…about stress.”

  “Sure,” he mumbled, moving his lips to cover hers and ending any and all coherent thought.

  Much later, Mary lay in his arms, exhausted, but relaxed. “So, do you want to talk?” she asked, hiding a yawn.

  He pulled her into his arms and shook his head. “No, all I want to do is sleep,” he said.

  “So, you’re not worried now,” she murmured, fighting to keep her eyes open.

  He kissed the top of her head and snuggled into the blankets. “Tell you what,” he said slowly as sleep started to sweep over him. “As long as we keep things status quo for a little while I’m good. Just no surprises, that shouldn’t be too hard. Right?”

  Eyes suddenly wide open; Mary stared at the snoozing Bradley with dismay. “Right. Not too hard at all,” she said aloud, yet silently she thought, Well, crap!

  Chapter Three

  “Good morning ladies,” Bradley said, as he entered the kitchen, still adjusting his tie, on Monday morning. “How is everyone today?”

  “I’m not a lady, but I’m just fine, thanks for asking,” Mike said, gliding over to Bradley.

  “I’m good, Daddy,” Clarissa replied with a giggle, as she crunched on a piece of toast. “I helped Mary, I mean, Mom, make breakfast.”

  Standing next to the kitchen counter, putting Clarissa’s lunch together, Mary stopped what she was doing for a moment. “Clarissa,” she said, keeping her voice matter-of-fact. “It’s okay for you to call me Mary. I want you to do what makes you feel comfortable, not what you think you ought to do.”

  Placing her toast on her plate, Clarissa turned and looked across the kitchen. “You’re not mad?” she asked.

  “Mary has never been mad at you, Clarissa,” Bradley said, sitting down at the table next to his daughter.

  Shaking her head, Mary came around the counter and walked over to the table, sitting down on the other side of the little girl. She met her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not mad at all,” she said. “What you call me doesn’t matter. I just want to be sure that we are honest with each other. Honest about our feelings and that we try to work together as a family.”

  “We all have to do that,” Bradley said. “We all need to be sure we are talking to each other and telling the truth.”

  “You don’t hate me?” Clarissa asked Mary. “For what I did to you?”

  “Hey, Clarissa, Mary doesn’t work that way,” Mike said. “She’ll tell you the truth.”

  Leaning over and placing a soft kiss on the child’s forehead, Mary said, “No, I love you. And not because you are Bradley’s daughter, but because you are you.”

  “Really?” she asked, turning to Mike, skepticism evident in her eyes.

  “Angel’s honor,” Mike said, crossing his finger over his heart.

  She turned and looked at Mary. “Really?” she asked again.

  Mary nodded. “Yes, really,” she said. “But you don’t have to take my word on it. Watch me and let me prove it.”

  “I think that’s fair,” Bradley added.

  Clarissa sat quietly for a moment and then asked, “So does that mean you’re going to let me do anything I want to do?”

  Mike laughed out loud. “Working all the angles, aren’t you?”

  Chuckling, Mary placed her hand on Clarissa’s head and tousled her hair. “Not a chance,” she said. “Loving someone doesn’t mean they give you everything.”

  Sighing, Clarissa nodded. “Yeah, that’s what Mrs. Brennan says too.”

  “Well, if Mrs. Brennan agrees, then I must be doing something right,” she said. “But I know we still have a lot of things to work out, so I’m going to call a friend of mine and see what we should be doing to help us become a better family.”

  “Okay,” Clarissa agreed. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “Yes, it does,” Bradley said. “We all need to help, including me.”

  “Good!” Mary replied, standing up quickly. She grabbed the table as a sudden rush of dizziness hit her. The room started to tilt and she felt lightheaded.

  Bradley jumped to his feet and was immediately at her side. “Mary?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

  Mike glided over to the other side of her. “Hey, champ, take it easy.”

  Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself slowly back into the chair. “I just think I stood up too fast,” she said. “I just got a little dizzy, that’s all.”

  “I’m taking you to the hospital,” Bradley said.

  “Yeah, because that’s her favorite place in the whole wide world,” Mike murmured.

  Chuckling, Mary shook her head. “No, real
ly, I’m fine,” she replied. “Because of the medication, I’ve been off of caffeine for a couple of days; I’m sure that’s it. Just a little light-leaded, that’s all.”

  Bradley was not mollified. “Have you eaten anything?” he asked, as he poured a glass of milk and placed it before her.

  “She hasn’t,” Clarissa chimed in. “She’s been busy doing other stuff.”

  Bradley turned to his daughter. “I think it’s time we do some stuff for Mary,” he said. “What do you think?”

  She smiled. “I think it’s a great idea,” she agreed.

  “Okay, Mary, what would you like for breakfast?” Bradley asked.

  Sweet and sour chicken, Mary thought and then said, “Toast with strawberry preserves.”

  “I can make that,” Clarissa exclaimed, hopping out of her chair and dashing to the toaster.

  Bradley sat down next to Mary. “Okay, tell me how you really feel,” he said softly.

  “Kind of silly,” Mary admitted. “But, fine, really. I just need to take things a little slower right now.”

  “Yes, your body needs time to adjust,” he replied.

  “Adjust?” she repeated. Did he know about the baby?

  “Yes, you need to adjust to being back on your feet after being in bed all weekend.”

  Nodding slowly, she exhaled softly. “Yes, you’re right,” she agreed. “That’s probably it.”

  “Can I get you a Diet Pepsi?” he asked.

  Shaking her head sadly, she said, “No, since I’ve been off caffeine all weekend and I survived, this is probably a good time to start cutting back. But I’d love some herb tea.”

  “You’ve got it,” he said.

  Mary turned and watched Bradley and Clarissa hurry around the kitchen, making breakfast for her and a lump formed in her throat.

  “So, what is it you’re not telling us?” Mike whispered.

  She smiled up at him and shook her head. “I’m good,” she replied.

  He looked at her, and then looked across the room. Bradley was instructing Clarissa on how to put only a little butter on the toast, while he helped remove the thick coating she had already put on it. “You’re all going to make it,” he said softly.

  She smiled up at him, absently placed her hand on her stomach and nodded. This is going to work, she decided adamantly. We are going to make a great family.

  Chapter Four

  After assuring Bradley that she could drive her car, Mary finally arrived at her office a little after nine o’clock and Rosie was already waiting for her at the front door.

  “Well, you’re here bright and early,” Mary said, as she stepped out of her car, pulling her purse and computer bag along with her. “How was your Sunday?”

  “Stanley and I had a nice quiet Sunday, just being lazy,” she replied, as she studied Mary’s face. “But more importantly, how are you feeling?”

  Trying to smile convincingly, she nodded. “I’m good. Much better. Thanks so much for all you did on Saturday.”

  “All I did was to nearly get you and Clarissa killed because I didn’t watch her,” Rosie said, her eyes downcast. “I can’t tell you how sorry I—”

  “Rosie, it wasn’t your fault,” Mary insisted as she put her arm around her friend. “Clarissa wasn’t honest with you. You thought she was safe and secure with Katie. You would have never left her otherwise.”

  “But—” she began.

  “No buts,” Mary replied. “It simply was not your fault. Okay?”

  Rosie nodded. “Okay,” she exhaled softly.

  Unlocking the door to her office, she held it open for Rosie and then put her things on the desk. “Have a seat,” she offered. “I’m just going to start my computer.”

  She pulled her laptop out of the bag and attached it to the docking station on her desk. She powered on the laptop and then sat down in her chair and turned to Rosie. “So, what’s up?” she asked.

  “Actually, I’m here with a business proposal,” she said and lifting one eyebrow added, “A paying business proposal.”

  “Well, this is a great way to start a Monday morning,” Mary replied with a smile. “What can I do for you?”

  Searching through her purse for a moment, Rosie finally pulled out an index card and handed it to Mary. “This is a listing of mine,” she said. “A lovely old home out in the country. The house is large and well-maintained and the acreage around it is breathtaking, but we’ve been trying to sell it for over a year and there are no bites.”

  Mary looked at the address. It was on a quiet road between Freeport and Lena, a nice area. “Is it overpriced?” she asked.

  Shaking her head, Rosie scooted forward in her seat and lowered her voice. “It’s haunted.”

  “Actively haunted, like ghosts showing up during an Open House?” Mary asked.

  “No, nothing like that,” Rosie said. “Just an uncomfortable feeling when you enter the house. Everyone who’s taken a tour loves the outside, but once they are inside, they want to hurry out. No one knows why. Or at least, they aren’t willing to say why.”

  “Did anyone die in the house?” Mary asked.

  Rosie nodded slowly. “Yes, although the owners didn’t talk about it, I did some research,” she explained. “The husband of the woman who is selling died in a farming accident. He was suffocated in a grain silo. I think he’s haunting the house.”

  “Well, that would make sense,” Mary said. “Perhaps he doesn’t know he’s dead.”

  “That’s what I thought too,” Rosie agreed with a smile. “I thought you could just come out to the house and have a conversation with him and then he could move on.”

  Sitting back in her chair, Mary folded her arms over her chest. “You know it’s not always that easy,” she said. “What does your client think about having me check things out?”

  Avoiding Mary’s eyes, Rosie chewed her lower lip nervously. “Well, about that,” she began.

  “You didn’t tell her,” Mary supplied.

  “No, I didn’t,” she confessed. “But she’s not your client. The brokerage is your client. If we can sell this place, we’re going to earn a tidy commission.”

  “But if she finds out—” Mary began.

  “Our contract states that we can call in a specialist if we feel it will help us sell the properties,” she interrupted. “At our expense, of course. So, why would she care?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Mary said with a smile. “Perhaps there are skeletons in their closets.”

  Rosie smiled back. “Then we should be sure you have a look at all of the closets too,” she replied. “When can you go?”

  Mary chuckled, of course she was going and Rosie knew it. “I have a couple of calls to make. They might take a while,” she said. “Can I call you when I’m done?”

  “That would be perfect,” Rosie said, standing and smiling down at Mary. “You make your calls and then we’ll take a nice drive in the country.”

  “That sounds lovely,” Mary said. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m free.”

  Chapter Five

  “District 43, Gracie Williams speaking. What can I do for you?” the familiar voice answered.

  Mary smiled just thinking of her friend. “Hi, Gracie, this is Mary O’Reilly,” she said.

  “You mean Mary Alden, don’t you?” Gracie asked. “Unless that man of yours has done something stupid and you are already kicking his butt out of the house.”

  “Oh, no, nothing like that,” she said with a laugh. “We decided that I should keep using my maiden name for my business and I guess I don’t have a lot of practice saying Mary Alden yet.”

  “Yeah, it might be a little complicated in your business to have the same name as the Chief of Police,” she replied. “So what can I do for you?”

  “I need some professional advice,” Mary admitted.

  “You still seeing ghosts?” Gracie asked.

  “Yes,” Mary answered.

  “Honey, I can’t help you there,” she said. “We b
oth know you got something going on there beyond my professional ability to figure out.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Mary said. “It’s Clarissa.”

  “Clarissa, Bradley’s daughter?” Gracie asked.

  “Yes, she’s been acting out a little lately,” Mary said. “And I’m not sure what to do.”

  “When you say acting out, what exactly do you mean?” Gracie asked.

  “Do you have a few minutes?” Mary asked.

  “Excuse me for a moment, sweetie,” Gracie replied.

  Mary could hear some movement, like Gracie was getting out of her chair and then heard footsteps across a wood floor. Then she heard Gracie’s voice in the distance. “Claire, I need you to hold my calls and visitors for the next hour. And reschedule that ten o’clock meeting,” she said. “I’ve got an important phone conference.”

  A moment later, Gracie was back. “Okay, sugar, why don’t you just tell Gracie all about it.”

  Forty-five minutes later Mary was reaching for another tissue, wiping her eyes and finishing her explanation to Gracie. She took a deep, shuddering breath and said, “And that’s about it. So, what have I done wrong?”

  “Well, sugar, the only thing you’ve done wrong is blame yourself,” Gracie replied. “That little girl has gone through an awful lot of hurt in her young life. She has had no stability, no safety, and no structure for a very long time. And she was kind of used to running the show. She took care of everyone else, that’s what made her feel important. That’s what she thought her value was. Now you walk in, take care of her and Bradley, and she’s feeling insecure. She doesn’t know where she fits and she doesn’t want to get used to loving you in case you both change your mind and up and die on her.”

  “We’re not going to die,” Mary said.

  “Why not, everyone else has?” Gracie countered. “Look at it from her point of view. Even the bad man died. Anyone who ever wanted her has gone away, why should she trust you and Bradley?”