Bumpy Roads - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book 11) (The Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series) (5 page)

A few minutes after Stanley left, Mary heard the bell jingle
again. She looked up to see a woman enter the office.

“Hi, can I help you?” Mary
asked,
standing and walking around her desk.

Hesitant, the woman took a deep breath and finally nodded.
“My name is Celia Rasmussen and I hope you can help me.”

Quickly assessing the woman, Mary decided she was probably
in her late forties, but she was carrying a burden that made her seem older.
She looked exhausted, but Mary could tell it was a chronic fatigue that had
lasted many years. She wondered if the woman was sick.

“Hello, Mrs. Rasmussen,” she said, guiding her to a chair
next to her desk. “Please, have a seat. What can I do for you?”

Moving to the other side of the desk, she sat in her chair,
her expression patient and open, and waited.

“I feel like I’ve given up by coming to you,” Celia said
bluntly.

“Given up?” Mary asked.
“In what way?”

“Eight years ago my daughter was kidnapped,” Celia
explained. “There were no clues, no explanations, no leads and we never found
her.”

“I am so sorry,” Mary said.

Acknowledging Mary’s comment with a nod, she picked up the
manila folder she had on her lap and handed it to her.
 
Mary opened the file and saw a printout of a
pixelated photo. “What am I looking for?” she asked.

Celia stood up and leaned over the desk, pointing to a small
area in the photo where brush and trees overlapped. “See. In here,” she said,
indicating a deviation in the colors of the leaves. “If you look closely, you
can see Courtney’s face.”

Mary pulled a magnifying glass out of her desk drawer and
studied the photo.
 
There was difference
in the photo that had nothing to do with sunlight and shade.
 
There seemed to be a girl’s face in the midst
of the trees. “When was this taken?” she asked.

“Last week,” Celia said, “during a softball tournament at
the park.
 
It was in the background of
the shot, that’s why it’s so blurry. But it’s Courtney, I can tell.”

“I have to be honest and tell you this photo is so pixelated
it’s hard to tell what this is, let alone pick out features,” Mary began. “I
don’t know…”

“A mother knows her own daughter,” Celia interrupted. “Do
you think I would mistake my own daughter?”

It only took Mary a moment to respond. “No, I don’t think
you would,” she agreed. “I think a mother’s intuition is one of the strongest
forces on earth.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Celia sat back in her chair.
“Thank you,” she said.

“But why haven’t you brought this to the police?” Mary
asked.

“Because they don’t have time or resources to deal with
fairly vague leads on an eight-year-old case,” she said openly. “I don’t blame
them; I just have to look for other options.”

Picking up the magnifying glass again, Mary peered back down
at the photo. The shot was so bad it looked like you could see through the face
to the trees behind her. As soon as that thought went through her head, she
froze and looked up at Celia.

“Why did you choose me for your option?” Mary asked softly.

Celia swallowed and took a deep shuddering breath. “I think
you know,” she said, meeting Mary’s eyes directly. “But, I’m afraid…”

Laying the magnifying glass to the side of the desk, Mary
met the woman’s eyes. “Now, I need to tell you a little bit about myself before
we continue.”

“Okay,” Celia replied hesitantly.

“I used to work for the Chicago Police Department and during
that time I was shot in the line of duty.”

“Oh, that must have been horrible for you,” Celia gasped.
“Were you hurt badly?”

“I died,” Mary said. “And then I had the most unusual
conversation. I was told that I had a choice, I could continue on to the light
or I could come back and be with my friends and family.
 
Only this time, my time on earth would be
different.”

“Different?
In what way?”
Celia
asked.

“Different because now I can see and communicate with
ghosts,” Mary replied softly.

“Most people think there are no such things as ghosts,”
Celia said, a flicker of hope glowing in her eyes. “People don’t believe in
ghosts.”

Mary shrugged. “That’s true,” she said. “Many people don’t
believe in ghosts, until they have an encounter of their very own and that
somehow, quickly, changes their mind.”

“They say ghosts are evil,” she said. “Do you believe that?”

“Ghosts are just people who died,” Mary explained. “They are
as good or evil as they were as people.
 
For some reason, they haven’t passed over to the other side. That’s part
of my calling, I get to help those people figure out what’s keeping them here
and help them pass over.”

Celia was quiet for a moment and then tears filled her eyes.
“I think I’ve seen her,” she whispered hoarsely.

Mary nodded but didn’t say a word.

“Out of the corner of my eye,” Celia continued, “I’ll see
her running up the stairs or walking through the kitchen. Of course, when I
turn to look, she’s never there.”

Mary picked up a pen and jotted down a few notes. “When do
you see her?”

Celia shrugged. “The first time was on Mother’s Day, a few
weeks after she disappeared,” she admitted. “I just thought it was because I
wanted to see her.”

“But then?”
Mary prompted.

“But then I would see her in places I didn’t expect,” she explained.
“I mean, if I was imagining her, wouldn’t I kind of be expecting her?”

“Seems like that would make sense,” Mary agreed. “So, what
do you think?”

A soft sob escaped through her lips and a moment later she
was bent forward, weeping uncontrollably, her head pillowed in her arms. “My
baby,” she cried. “I think my baby’s dead.”

Mary grabbed the box of tissues on her desk and came around,
crouching next to Celia.
 
She put her
arms around the woman and just let her continue to cry for a few more minutes.
Finally, the crying calmed and Celia pulled away.
 
Mary handed her the tissue box, but stayed
close to her.

“What would you like me to do for you?” she asked softly.

Wiping the moisture from her face, Celia looked up at her,
her face red and blotchy, her mascara smeared down her cheeks. “I want you to
find her,” she whispered. “And I want you to find the man who did this to
her.
 
I want him to pay.
 
I want him to never be able to do this to
another child.”

Mary nodded. “Do you want to help me?” she asked, making a
quick decision.

Celia’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?” she
asked,
a slight edge of hope in her voice.

“Do you want to help me investigate this crime?” Mary asked.
“I think we could work well together.”

Taking a deep breath, Celia nodded. “I would like that.”

“Okay, meet me here tomorrow morning at nine and we’ll
start,” she said.

“I’ll be here,” Celia agreed.

“Oh, and if you could jot down anything you can remember
about Courtney’s visits, that would be helpful.”

Celia started to stand, and then stopped. “So, I’m not
crazy?”

Mary smiled. “No more crazy than me,” she said.

Bradley leaned over and pushed the intercom button for the
tenth time in two hours. “Sorry, Dorothy,” he said. “But I can’t seem to find
the file containing the minutes from the last city council meeting.”

“Oh, the mayor didn’t send them over to you,” she replied.
“He told his secretary, who told me, that if you couldn’t find the time in your
busy schedule to make the meetings, you probably didn’t have time to read the
minutes.”

Taking a deep breath and counting to ten, he waited before
responding. “Did you mention to his secretary that I was on my honeymoon?” he
asked.

“Yes, I did,” she replied. “And I also mentioned that this
was the first vacation you had taken in the two years you have held the
position.”

Touched by her loyalty, Bradley felt an easing in his chest.
“Thank you, Dorothy,” he said.

“And I told her if the mayor wasn’t such a complete idiot,
he would have been invited to the wedding and he would have known about it
firsthand,” she finished.

Bradley dropped his head into his hand. “You really didn’t
say that, did you?” he asked.

He heard her chuckle softly. “No, I didn’t,” she replied.
“But it went through my mind.”

His sigh of relief was audible. “Okay, well, is there any
way you can get me a copy of those minutes?” he asked. “Or do I have to walk
over to the mayor’s office and beg for them?”

“They will be on your desk in ten minutes,” she replied
defiantly.

“Thanks, Dorothy,” he said, a slight smile forming on his
lips. “Oh, and Dorothy…”

“Yes?”

“Try not to get us fired.”

She laughed. “Yes, sir,” she replied.

He hung up the phone, sat back in his chair and rubbed his
temples, trying to ease the headache that had been growing steadily all
day.
 
He couldn’t believe the backlog on
his desk from being away for only two weeks. The city, county and state reports
alone were going to keep him working until at least ten o’clock tonight.
 
Good thing he and Mary hadn’t planned
anything special.

The phone rang and he rolled his eyes before picking it up.
“What now?” he asked, before announcing into the phone, “Chief Alden.”

“Mary O’Reilly Alden,” Mary responded, a smile in her voice.

The tension is his body eased and a real smile formed on his
face. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself, how’s your day going?”

“Don’t ask,” he said.

“That bad, huh?” she replied. “Well, will it make you feel
better to know I’ve picked up some
ribeye
steaks for
dinner tonight?”

He groaned silently. “About dinner,” he said. “I’m going to
have to take a raincheck on those ribeyes. I’m going to be here until late
tonight.”

“But it’s our first dinner together as a family,” she
replied, disappointment evident in her voice.

That’s strange,
Bradley thought,
she must have forgotten
we ate dinner last night together.

“No it’s not,” he said, trying to gently remind her. “We ate
dinner last night as a family, remember?”

“But, we had just gotten home,” she argued. “We hadn’t been
together for the whole day.”

Shaking his head, Bradley replied quickly. “But we aren’t
going to be together for the whole day today either,” he said. “You and I are
at work and Clarissa’s at school. So, really, it’s no big deal.”

Mary’s heart dropped. She had wanted to create a special
meal just for the three of them.
 
A symbol that would set the pattern for their lives together.
How could he not see that it was, indeed, a very big deal?

“But Bradley,” she began and then she heard his other line
ringing.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he interrupted her. “I’ve got to
take this other call. Love you. See you later tonight.”

He hung up the phone before she could respond.

“Chief Alden,” he said, answering the other line and then he
closed his eyes and grimaced as he heard the voice on the other end of the
line. “Yes, sir, I would consider it a personal favor. Yes, I certainly won’t
make a habit of missing the city council meetings. Thank you.”

He hung up the phone and immediately turned to his computer,
bringing up a new email and adding Mary’s address. He was just about to send her
a quick note apologizing for missing their dinner and explaining about his day
when the phone rang again. “Chief Alden,” he replied, and tucking the phone
between his shoulder and his cheek, his fingers paused over the keyboard.

He stopped typing and turned back to his desk, pulling a
notepad across the desk. “How long has she been missing?” he asked, jotting
notes down quickly. “What’s her address?
 
Are both of her parents there? Okay, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

He pushed away from the desk, pulled on his jacket and hat,
and hurried out of his office. “Dorothy,” he said as he passed his assistant in
the hallway. “We’ve got a missing teen. I’m heading over to interview her
parents.”

Nodding, she waved the manila folder in her hand at him.
“These will be waiting for you on your desk when you get back,” she said. “Good
luck.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “Let’s pray we can find this one.”

On the bus ride home, Clarissa and Maggie sat silently for
the first few minutes, neither girl wanting to break the silence first. Finally
Maggie couldn’t stand it. “The man in the car was really bad,” she said. “There
were ghosts in his car, ghosts that were crying and wanted to get out.”

Clarissa felt a cold shiver move up her spine. “Like he took
them?” she asked quietly.

Maggie nodded. “Like he took them and they never went home,”
she replied.

Swallowing softly, Clarissa turned to Maggie. “He wanted to
take us,” she said. “Didn’t he?”

“I think so,” Maggie answered. “And I don’t think he was
happy that we escaped. I bet he’s worried that we’re going to tell someone
about him.”

“We can’t,” Clarissa said, shaking her head excitedly. “Then
for sure Mary and Bradley won’t want me.”

Maggie plopped back against the seat and turned to Clarissa.
“I can’t believe they wouldn’t want you,” she said. “They love you.
 
They saved you from the bad man.
 
They were looking for you.”

“But now they want their own babies,” she argued. “Like Mrs.
Gunderson said, no one wants me. I’m just trouble. And if we tell them, I’ll be
even more trouble.”

“We should tell Mike,” Maggie said. “If we can’t tell Mary
and Bradley, Mike would be able to help us.”

“But, remember what he said on the playground,” she said.
“He can’t help us lie, so he’d have to tell them too. ’Sides, he told us we had
to deal with our own consequences.”

Sighing, Maggie thought about Clarissa’s words for a few
moments. “He did say that,” she agreed. “But I don’t think he meant dangerous
things.”

“Maybe my dad can help,” Clarissa suggested.

“Bradley?” Maggie asked hopefully.

“No, my ’
doptive
dad,” she said.
“He protected me from the bad man when he was alive. Maybe he can help us with
this too.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Maggie said. “And maybe
your dad isn’t there anymore.
 
Maybe he
passed over, just like your mom.”

A tear slipped down Clarissa’s cheek and she brushed it
away. “So, you think no one wants me?” she asked sadly. “You think everyone
left me alone?”

Her little heart breaking, Maggie shook her head and leaned
over to her friend. “No. No, of course not,” she said. “But they knew you were
in good hands. They knew Mary and Bradley were going to take care of you and
love you. That’s why they could go.”

Clarissa’s lower lip quivered with emotion and she took a
deep shaky breath. “But they don’t want me,” she replied. “I tried and tried to
do everything I thought they wanted, but all Bradley wants is a new baby.”

“We could talk to my mom,” Maggie suggested. “She would know
how to fix this.”

“No,” Clarissa replied adamantly. “She’d just tell me I was
silly.
 
She’d tell Mary and Bradley and
they would get angry. Please, Maggie, promise me you won’t tell her.”

Sighing, Maggie nodded. “I won’t tell her,” she said. “But
we’ve got to tell someone.”

“That’s why we need to talk to my dad,” Clarissa explained.
“He knows stuff.”

“And if he tells us to talk to Mary and Bradley?” Maggie
countered.

Clarissa hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “If he says
to talk to them, I will,” she agreed.

Maggie sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her
chest. “Okay, we can go and try to find him,” she agreed. “But we have to do it
so we don’t get in trouble.”

“How about next week?”
Clarissa
suggested. “We have a half-day on Tuesday.
 
We could go then.”

Nodding slowly as she thought about it, Maggie suddenly
smiled. “You can tell Mary and Bradley that you’re coming to my house and I can
tell my mom that I’m going to your house,” she said. “Then we can do whatever
we want to do.”

“Great!” Clarissa said. “I’ll tell them tonight.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “You’re not very good at this, are
you?”

“What?” Clarissa asked.

“You don’t tell them until the day you want to go,” she
replied. “That way they can’t check with each other.”

“Oh,” Clarissa replied.

“And you ask them when they are busy with something else, so
they really aren’t paying attention to you,” Maggie added.

“Does that really work for you?” Clarissa asked.

Grinning, Maggie nodded. “All the time,” she said.
“All the time.”