by Terri Reid
Maggie nodded, walking alongside her friend. “Lots of ghosts are nice,” she said, “but people are usually too scared to find out.”
“Thanks for letting me meet your friend,” Clarissa said. “But I don’t know if he’s scary enough to be my Halloween story.”
Chapter Twenty
Mary absently picked up a few more kernels of buttered popcorn as she clicked on the screen with her mouse. She had been accessing vital records from Ogle County and wasn’t getting anywhere. Her next stop was the newspaper archives, and she hoped they had them online. As she clicked on the next record, she put the popcorn in her mouth and reached for another few kernels.
“Do you really think you should be eating that?”
Dropping the popcorn back into the bowl, Mary quickly turned to see that Kristen had reappeared in her office. “I beg your pardon?” she asked the ghost.
Kristen moved closer to the desk. “I really hate to be rude,” she began, taking a moment to pointedly look at Mary’s stomach. “But, really, you don’t need popcorn.”
Taking a deep breath, Mary decided her best option would be to not react to Kristen’s comment. “Welcome back,” she said. “I’m glad the information on your former fiancé didn’t keep you away.”
Shrugging, Kristen glided across the room and looked over Mary’s shoulder at her computer screen. “Oh, well, after seeing his new look, I figured I really dodged a bullet on that one,” she replied. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to find the guy who killed me. I mean, I was a fourth grade teacher. Who kills a fourth grade teacher?”
“I was just looking over some records, and even though there are a lot of accidental deaths, I really don’t see anything that seems to be related to your murder,” Mary explained.
“You’re really nothing like the Rockford files are you?” Kristen asked. “I mean, a fat private investigator who sits in her office and eats popcorn all day is really not exciting television, is it?”
“However, a rude, self-centered ghost might become a movie of the week,” Mary muttered.
“Excuse me?” Kristen asked. “Are you criticizing the dead girl?”
Mary took a deep breath. “Okay, sweetheart, I’ve had just about enough of you,” Mary said, letting her pregnant hormones take over. “You were killed over forty years ago. And now that I’ve gotten to know you a little, maybe I can see why. Although, I’m really surprised anyone thought it was an accident. I’m sure you had plenty of people out for your blood.”
“Everyone loved me!” Kristen yelled. “I was up for teacher of the year. They don’t just give that away to anyone.”
“Well, teacher of the year,” Mary shouted back, “maybe you should have tried for Miss Congeniality, and then you wouldn’t be dead.”
“I never said anything mean to anyone!” Kristen screamed back. “I only wrote that kind of stuff in my journal.”
“Maybe someone found your journal and read it,” Mary yelled back.
“No, it was in a secret compartment,” Kristen exclaimed. “I’m not stupid.”
“A secret compartment?” Mary asked.
Kristen shrugged. “Yeah, well, some of the stuff I wrote about my colleagues and the principal could have gotten me fired,” she said. “I guess I can be pretty blunt.”
“Really?” Mary replied sarcastically. “What a surprise.”
Just then the front door to Mary’s office opened, and the bell rang. “Well, hello there,” Kristen purred, looking over Mary’s shoulder to the front of the office. “Now that’s what I call Officer Tall, Dark and Handsome. Honey, you can arrest me anytime.”
Mary spun her chair around and saw Bradley walking toward her desk. “Hi,” she said.
He leaned over her desk and kissed her. “Hi yourself,” he replied.
“So, he likes fat girls?” Kristen asked, floating over next to the desk. “What a waste.”
“I’m not fat. I’m pregnant,” Mary replied through gritted teeth.
Bradley looked at her questioningly. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “And you’re not just pregnant, you’re ravishing.”
“Oh, so he’s the one who got you knocked up,” Kristen stated. “Lucky you.”
With a long-suffering sigh, Mary placed her hand on Bradley’s arm and said, “Bradley, I want you to meet Kristen Banks, a former fourth-grade teacher. Kristen, this is my husband, Bradley.”
With Mary’s touch, Bradley was able to see the ghost of the young woman standing next to Mary’s desk. He had to admit it was still a little disconcerting to be able to see dead people, but he was getting used to it.
“Hello, Kristen,” he said.
She studied him for a moment. “Do you think you’re going to get fat?” she asked.
Concern crossed over Bradley’s features. He looked down at his waistline and looked back at the ghost. “Why do you ask?”
Shrugging, she sighed. “Well, I had a fiancé who looked a lot like you when we were engaged,” she said. “He was a real hunk. But I just saw a picture of him, and he’s pretty much gone to hell. I just wondered if all hunks turn out that way.”
“You think I’m a hunk?” Bradley asked, a grin spreading across his face. He looked down at Mary and nodded in Kristen’s direction. “She thinks I’m a hunk.”
Mary bit back a smile. “Yeah, I heard,” she said. “And I agree.”
“I wasn’t trying to compliment you,” Kristen interrupted. “I just wanted to know if you were going to get fat.”
“I’m not planning on it,” Bradley said. “But thanks for asking.”
“You two deserve each other,” Kristen snapped. “But what did I do to deserve ending up haunting McMillan and wife for the rest of eternity?”
“Who?” Mary asked.
Kristen threw her hands up in the air. “I’m doomed.”
“Mary will help you cross over,” Bradley said. “She always does.”
Sighing heavily, Kristen shook her head. “The only clues we might have are in my journal, and unless my old desk is still around, that journal is long gone. So, we can’t find anyone.”
Mary stopped and shook her head. “Wait. What? Your old desk?”
“Yes. My old desk. Because that’s where the secret compartment was,” Kristen said slowly, as if Mary wasn’t very smart. “In my desk.”
Chapter Twenty-one
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Mary said when Andrew opened the door to the old school. “Kristen stopped by my office and told me about a possible clue.”
“Great,” Andrew said, looking around the hall. “Where is it?”
“In her classroom,” Mary said, heading in that direction. “But let’s hurry. I’d rather not turn on the lights and let the neighbors know we’re here.”
Mary started dashing up the stairs, but after the first ten steps, she realized that she just couldn’t dash anymore. Grasping the handrail, she stopped to catch her breath and then continued up in a more sedate pace. “I keep forgetting I’m pregnant,” she breathlessly apologized.
“Oh, no, don’t worry,” Andrew said. “We have plenty of time. We can go slower if you’d like.”
Mary smiled at him. “I’m good, thank you,” she said. “We don’t need to go slower.”
They reached the second floor and walked down the hallway to the classroom. Mary hurried to the desk and pulled open the top drawer on the right side. “She said there was a secret compartment in the drawer,” Mary said, knocking on the bottom of the drawer.
“You’re kidding.” he exclaimed, looking over her shoulder. “I swear I checked this desk inside and out.”
Mary stopped searching and looked at him. “You already searched the desk?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I did everything I could to solve the mystery myself. I got the police report. I went through the school records, and I searched throughout the whole school.” He chortled lightly. “If I hadn’t read the article about you, I’d still be…”
Mary’s blood ran
cold. “You read the article about me?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, that’s why I came to see you,” he said. “Why else would you think…”
“Mary!”
Mary looked up to see Mike standing in the middle of classroom. “Mike?”
“You need to get out of here,” he said, his voice tense. “I can’t interfere, but danger is coming.”
“Mike? Who’s Mike?” Andrew asked.
She held her hand up to silence him. She heard a noise outside the classroom door.
“Andrew, we need to leave the school right away,” she said, yanking out the drawer and tucking it under her arm. “I need you to meet me at my house. And then we need to talk. Can you do that?”
“What?” Andrew asked. “What’s wrong?”
“We just need to get out now,” she said. “And you need to promise that you’ll come to my house.”
“I promise,” Andrew said, his voice shaking. He looked around the room. “Are we going to be okay?”
“I sure hope so,” Mary said.
She walked over to the window and surreptitiously looked down to the parking lot. As far as she could see, no one was out there. But, she reasoned, a killer would not park their car in plain view. She turned and realized Andrew had already left. Taking a deep breath, she hurried to the classroom door and carefully opened it so it didn’t make any noise. She slowly stuck her head out and looked up and down the hallway.
“Looking for something?” Kristen asked, appearing behind Mary.
Mary jumped back and stifled a scream. Her heart in her throat, she turned back to the ghost. “Do you remember the night you died?” she asked.
Kristen’s haughty face dropped, and fear shone on it. “Yes, I do,” she said, her voice low.
“I’m afraid that the same person who murdered you might be here in the school tonight,” Mary said. “And he might be looking for his next victim.”
Kristen backed up against the wall of the classroom next to the door. “We can’t go out there, Mary,” she said, her voice trembling with terror. “He’s going to get us.”
Mary clicked the lock closed on the inside of the door. “Well, I don’t think we can stay here for much longer,” she replied. “It’s getting darker, and I won’t be able to make it down the stairs.”
“We should call the police,” Kristen suggested.
“He might be the police,” Mary said.
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” she replied.
“Kristen, can you move that chair?” Mary asked.
“Why? Do you need to sit down?” she asked.
“No, I just need to see if you can move things.”
Kristen walked next to the desk and pushed on the chair. It moved several feet.
“Oh, that’s great,” Mary said. “Is there another exit in the school?”
“Yeah, the front exit,” Kristen replied. “There’s another set of stairs in the other direction that lead to the front exit.”
“Okay, I want you to go in that direction, and when you get close to the other set of stairs, make as much noise as you can,” Mary said. “Push trash cans or chairs or whatever down the stairs, and then you can leave.”
“But what about you?”
“As soon as I hear someone running after you, I’ll head down the other stairs and get out,” she said.
Kristen took the drawer away from Mary, pressed on the hidden lock, and slid open the panel revealing her journal and the letters. “Take these,” she said. “It will be much easier for you to just carry them, and I’ll use this drawer as the first thing to go down the stairs.”
“Thank you, Kristen,” Mary said, turning and unlocking the door. “Good luck.”
“Yeah, you, too,” Kristen replied, opening the door and slipping outside with the drawer in her hands.
Mary slid against the wall, the classroom door slightly ajar next to her, and waited. Finally, she heard the sound of the drawer bouncing down the stairs, and then she heard footsteps coming from just down the hall from her. She held her breath and prayed.
Her heart jumped when she heard the footsteps pause next to the door, but another clatter on the stairs had them starting up again. She counted to five and then dashed out of the room and the other way down the hall. Grasping the handrail tightly, she flew down the stairs as quickly as she could, her breath caught in her throat. Finally, she reached the main floor and ran down the hall towards the door. She pushed open the door and ran towards her car, clicking the automatic unlock when she was five steps away.
She pulled open the door, jumped inside and shoved the key into the ignition. A moment later she had pulled out of the parking lot and was speeding down the street. She reached into her purse, pulled out her phone and called Bradley.
“Hey, honey,” he said. “How are you—”
“Bradley,” she sobbed. “I’m on my way home, and I need you to see if Clarissa can go over to Maggie’s tonight.”
“Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’ll tell when I get home,” she said. “But I’m afraid I’ve just stumbled into a recent murder.”
Chapter Twenty-two
The beams from the headlights of Mary’s car flashed through the windows of the school and danced along the walls, like a searchlight from a prison yard. The lone figure, dressed in faded Army fatigues, dove into the recessed entry of a classroom, pressed against the cool wall and hid from discovery. The light passed by, racing farther down the hall and finally disappearing into the night.
“I have located the enemy,” the low, raspy voice whispered. “I have located the enemy, but she was able to escape.”
The soldier punched the wall, then moved out of the classroom entrance and looked up and down the empty hall. With a stride reminiscent of marching, long legs carried the warrior back to the main entrance and to the darkened staircase that led to the basement. Combat-booted footsteps echoed off the walls of the stairwell as the camouflage on the fatigue disappeared into the darkness of the lower level. Finally, a click of a penlight created a small point of light, partially illuminating a face smeared with black face paint and shadows. Then the footsteps continued, combining with the sounds of the old school: water dripping from ancient pipes, wind whistling through broken windows, and the scurry of rodents finding a safer place to nest. At last, they stopped for a moment. The sound of rusted hinges rang through the basement, and the boots moved forward a few steps.
The narrow beam swept the wall and stopped at the framed photo hanging from a rusted nail stuck into the crumbling mortar in the brick. As the light grew closer, the photo became more visible. Although badly faded and stained by mold and humidity, the subject of the photo was apparent. Kristen Banks, in what looked to be her senior year high school photo, smiled at the beam of light.
“I only wanted to love you,” the low voice whispered as a gloved hand delicately traced the edge of the face. “I only wanted to make you see that I was better for you than Danny. I only wanted a chance. And if you had lived, you would have given me that chance.”
The glove fisted. “I deserved that chance,” the whisper changed to a growl. “I deserved you. You didn’t have to die. If you had only let me take you. You didn’t have to die.”
Pounding the wall next to the photo with both hands, the penlight slipped and clattered to the ground.
An anguished moan echoed in the confines of the small mechanical room. “I didn’t kill you.” It was more of a plea than a statement. “It was an accident. Just an accident.”
Squatting down, the soldier reached for the penlight on the floor, but now its beam was focused on a lifeless body sprawled on the floor on the other side of the room. “But now it looks like I’m going to have to kill yet again.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Bradley was standing in the driveway, waiting for her when she pulled up to the house. He was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, but he looked every bit a knight on a white charger when he opened her
door and pulled her into his arms. “Are you okay?” he breathed into her hair.
She felt the tension and fear fade as the strength of his love poured into her. She leaned against him, burying her face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent, and nodded. “I am now,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
She could feel him nod, but he just held her for a few more moments. Finally, his embrace lessened, and he leaned away from her to look into her eyes. “What happened?” he asked, his voice a little less soothing and a little more professional.
“I’ll tell you as soon as we get inside,” she said. “I really need to put my feet up; my legs are still a little shaky.”
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and walked her across the lawn, up the stairs and into the house, positioning himself so she was always shielded by his body. He started to walk her over to the couch, then stopped and looked down at her. “Bathroom?” he asked.
A genuine smile appeared on her slightly pale face. “Yes,” she said. “That would be essential.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll make you some tea,” he replied, releasing her. “Then you can sit down and tell me all about it.”
“Thanks,” she replied, walking to the downstairs powder room.
When she walked back into the kitchen, she saw the kettle was on the stove, a cup with a tea bag on the counter, and a plate of cookies was next to it. She sighed softly. What a wonderful man.
She turned the corner to walk into the living room and realized that Andrew had arrived and was waiting nervously next to the front door. Mary walked into the room and made her way over to Bradley, who was building a fire in the fireplace.
“I know it’s not that cold,” he said. “But I thought it would be comforting.”
Nodding, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “Bradley, I want to introduce you to my client, Andrew Tyler,” she said.
Bradley looked up at Mary and then followed the direction of her gaze. “Hi, Andrew,” Bradley said, standing up. “Nice to meet you.”