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Authors: Terri Reid

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Chapter Eight
 

“Mary, why didn’t you tell me the paper was going to do a
story about you?” Bradley asked the next morning as he came in the front door
with the paper in his hand.

“Oh, I forgot,” she replied as she put together a sandwich
for Clarissa’s lunch. “Jerry called yesterday afternoon with a reporter
en
route and called in a favor. And then we kind of got
crazy at the Halloween store.”

He looked up from the paper and smiled. “Halloween is going
to be great,” he said. Then he returned back to scanning the front page. “Did
you know it was going to be a front page story?
 
Above the fold?”

She put down the knife and walked over to him. “No. Jerry
said that it was going to be a feature story,” she replied. “I figured it would
be hidden somewhere in the lifestyle section.”

She peeked over his shoulder, shocked and a little dismayed
to find her picture staring back at her. “I look huge!” she exclaimed. “Why
didn’t you tell me I look like a walking blimp?”

He leaned over and kissed her. “Because you don’t look like
a walking blimp,” he said. “You look adorable and pregnant.
 
Besides, I can’t get past your sexy smile.”

Mollified slightly, she looked closer. “You think my smile
is sexy?” she asked off-handedly.

He dropped the paper, wrapped his arms around her and
brought her close. “I think everything about you is sexy,” he murmured before
bringing her even closer and crushing her lips with his. “And if Clarissa
weren’t going to be coming down the stairs in the next minute or two, I’d bring
you upstairs and put some action behind those words.”

Smiling and slightly out of breath, she reached up and
placed a soft kiss on his lips. “You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl,” she
replied with a chuckle.

“Only
my
girl,” he
said, kissing her once again before letting her go.

“When you two are done making out, can we have a
conversation here?” Mike asked, appearing next to them.

Bradley pulled Mary back into his arms and shook his
head.
 
“No. I just decided that making
out with my wife is far more interesting than having an early morning
conversation with you.”

“Yeah, that would be cute and all,” Mike replied, his tone
flat, “but we’ve got some trouble.”

“Trouble?”
Bradley asked, releasing
his hold on Mary and turning to Mike. “What do you mean?”

“Have you looked at the article?” Mike asked, turning to
Mary. “Did you read what that reporter wrote about you?”

“No, we just got the paper,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, how can I put this?” he mused. “There’s a shift in
the force this morning.
 
You are on the
minds of a lot of desperate people.”

“What?” Bradley asked, scooping up the paper. “Why?”

He scanned the print and shook his head. “Mary, did you tell
the reporter that ghosts are drawn to you wherever you go?” he asked. “And that
you can communicate with anyone who has died?”

Shaking her head, Mary took the paper from Bradley to read
it herself. “No, of course not,” she replied. “But she didn’t just quote from
me.
 
She went on an internet forum that discusses
my work.”
 
She looked up at Bradley.
“There’s an internet forum that discusses my work?”

Mike nodded. “Yeah, you’re pretty popular with the
paranormal researchers,” he said. “Not only have you had interaction with
spirits, you’ve had witnesses who can verify your contacts with them.
 
They are pretty excited about that.”

“But I had no idea Jerry was going to…” she began.

“Turn the article about you into some salacious,
over-the-top, controversial, hyped-up report?” Bradley asked.

She sighed. “Yeah, I should have known better,” she
said.
 
Then she turned to Mike. “So, what
do I do next?”

“Lay low for a couple of days,” Mike advised. “This should
blow over in a week or so.”

He looked at Bradley for reassurance and Bradley shook his
head. “Not in this town,” he said. “If she goes into hiding, it will only
confirm the paper’s side of things.
 
She
needs to go out there, be seen and laugh it off.”

“But, I can’t really laugh it off,” she inserted. “Even
though I didn’t say this, most of it is true.”

“The problem is,” Mike said, “it’s taken out of
context.
 
You can only make contact with
spirits who want help.
 
You’re not out
there having séances to attract spirits to you.
 
That’s the last thing you would be asked to do with your gift.”

Bradley turned from Mary and looked at Mike. “Why?” Bradley
asked Mike.

“Why?” Mike repeated.

“Yeah, I always wondered why Mary didn’t just have things
like séances or use tools like Ouija boards to contact spirits. Wouldn’t that
be a faster way to do things?” he asked.

 
Mike started to speak
when they heard Clarissa’s footsteps on the stairs. “Let’s talk after Clarissa
leaves for school,” he suggested. “There are definitely some things you need to
know about the unseen world around us.”

Chapter Nine
 

After reassuring Clarissa that they would both attend the
Halloween party at the end of the month and confirming the kind of treats she
wanted to pass out, Clarissa was finally ready to walk over to the Brennans’
and wait for the bus.
 
Mary slipped on
her jacket to walk her over.

“I’ll do it,” Bradley offered.

She shook her head. “No, you sit down with Mike,” she said,
sending Mike a knowing look. “I’ll be back in a minute. I’ll let Mike fill you in.”

She and Clarissa left the house and Bradley turned to Mike.
“So, tell me what I need to know.”

They settled in the living room, Bradley in the recliner and
Mike perched on the edge of the coffee table. Mike was quiet for a few moments,
contemplating what he was going to tell Bradley and how he was going to say
it.
 
Finally he took a deep breath and
met Bradley’s eyes. “Okay, I think this is weird coming from me,” he said.
“Especially me, because a year or so ago—well, let’s just say I’ve got a
totally different perspective now.”

“Yeah, a lot has changed for you,” Bradley agreed. “You went
from a firefighter…” He paused, not sure how to go on.

“You can say it,” Mike said with a smile, “to a dead guy, to
a ghost and now a guardian angel. Yeah, you could say things have been a little
crazy. But now that I’m here, on the other side, I can see things that you and
Mary can’t see.”

“But Mary can see ghosts,” Bradley said. “What else is out
there?”

Mike stood up and walked to the front window, glancing
outside,
then
turned back to Bradley. “Mary can see
some of the ghosts,” he said. “The ghosts who want help, the ghosts who need
help passing over.
 
But, there
are
some other…” He paused as he searched for the word, “spirits,
who have nothing to do with what Mary is trying to accomplish.”

“Spirits?”
Bradley asked. “What do
you mean?”

“I don’t know that much about them myself,” he said. “Maybe
I skipped that class in Sunday
School
, but they are
dark entities.
 
It’s like they were never
human, always spirits.
 
And they aren’t
too fond of the human race.”

“What? Like demons?” Bradley asked.

Mike nodded. “Well, yeah, something
like
that,” he said. “They want to discourage us, want to pull us down.”

Bradley looked nervously around the room. “Where are they?”
he asked.

“That’s the thing,” Mike said, coming back across the room.
“They are here, all around us.
 
They are
outside, sometimes they’re inside.
 
They
are waiting for an opportunity to convince us to turn away from what’s right.”

“How do you know about this?” Bradley asked.

Mike took a deep breath and met Bradley’s eyes. “I can see
them,” he said. “And let me tell you, it’s pretty scary when you realize what’s
out there. It’s like an army.”

“An army of evil spirits?”
Bradley
asked. “So, how do we fight them?”

“That’s the thing,” Mike said. “Unless we open ourselves to
them, they have no power against us.
 
They can’t force us to do anything we don’t want to do.
 
But, once we open the door, they’re in.”

“Séances and Ouija boards,” Bradley said slowly. “That’s why
you don’t like them because they open a door.”

“And you don’t know who is going to walk in from the other
side,” Mike said. “It could be perfectly harmless or…”

“Yeah, or,” Bradley repeated. “Are there a lot of them?”

Mike nodded. “Like I said, an army,” he replied. “And the
more potential you have to bless someone else’s life, the more operatives they
have trying to pull you down.”

Bradley stood up, walked across the room to where Mike had
stood and looked out to see Mary chatting with the Brennan children.
 
She was laughing at their jokes and her face
was glowing with love.
 
Something tightened
in his gut as he thought about what Mike had just told him. “So, these evil
spirits,” Bradley said. “They wouldn’t be happy with what Mary’s doing, would
they?”

“You mean the whole helping confused spirits make it to the
light to receive their eternal reward? Yeah, no they’re not too happy about
that,” he said. “But Mary’s smart. She doesn’t put herself in those kinds of
situations.
 
That’s why she generally
waits for the spirits to come to her and ask for help.”

“I had no idea,” Bradley replied, still watching Mary.

“Yeah, well, it’s not something we generally dwell on,” Mike
said. “We focus on the positive energies, not the negative ones. The less we
think about them, the less power they have.”

Bradley turned away from the window and faced Mike.
 
“Is it weird?” he asked. “You know, being
able to see so much?”

Mike nodded. “Yeah, it is pretty weird,” he admitted. “I
never realized how much of a war between good and evil this world really
is.
 
But, hey, we got the big guns on our
side.”

“And He, the big guns,” Bradley glanced up to the ceiling, “he’s
looking out for Mary?”

Smiling softly, Mike nodded.
“Oh, yeah.
He has a special place in His heart for her,” he said.

Bradley glanced back at the window and saw Mary walking back
to the house as the bus pulled away from the curb. “Thanks. That’s good to
know.”

Chapter Ten
 

“So, you’re a celebrity now,” Rosie said as she entered
Mary’s office later that morning with a copy of the paper in her hand.

Mary groaned and buried her head in her arms on top of her
desk. “Don’t remind me,” she moaned. “I can’t tell you how many calls I’ve had
this morning from people who either want to hire me to find some long-lost
trinket in their home or want to chastise me for being a spawn of Satan.” She
looked up and shook her head.
“Really?
 
A spawn of Satan?”

“Who’s calling you that?” Stanley demanded, coming up to her
desk. “Just hand me their phone numbers and I’ll call ‘em and give ‘em
what-for.”

Chuckling softly, Mary shook her head. “Thanks Stanley, but
you don’t need to do that,” she said. “I just wish I had thought it through
before I agreed to the article. But at least now I have another option for a
Halloween costume.”
 
She looked over to
Rosie. “Did you happen to notice if there were any spawn of Satan costumes at
the Halloween store?”

Rosie smiled and shook her head. “Well, if there weren’t
there ought to be.
 
But if not, we can go
online and I’m sure we’ll find one there.”

The phone rang; Mary rolled her eyes and picked it up.
“O’Reilly Investigative Agency,” she said and then listened to the caller.
 
Finally, she took a deep breath and
responded, “Well, I’m sure it’s been very painful.
 
And I believe you when you say there has
never been anyone like him in your life.
 
I totally understand.
 
But, the
way my gift works is that ghosts generally
come
to me
when they’re looking for some kind of resolution in their life. I don’t go
searching for them.
 
But, if your Frank
is ever sent in my direction, I will be sure to call you immediately.”
 
She paused again. “Yes, of course, no
problem.
 
Thank you for calling.”

She hung up the phone and took a deep breath.

“Her husband?”
Stanley asked.

“Her son?”
Rosie asked.

Mary shook her head. “No. Her dog,” she replied with a
twinkle in her eye. “He was a very bright poodle and she knows that he would
have left her a parting message after he passed away last year.”

“Her poodle?”
Stanley asked.

Mary nodded.


Don’t
she know dogs
ain’t
got no unfinished business?” he asked. “They are
pretty much what you see is what you get.”

“Well, sometimes people miss their loved ones, pets
included, so much that they want one more chance to talk with them,” Mary said.
“It’s loneliness and sorrow talking.”

“I can understand that,” Rosie said. “And it’s kind of you
to be so nice to her, Mary.
 
I think I would
have lost my patience by now.”

The door behind them opened and they all looked over to see
a tall, well-dressed businessman enter the office. Stanley and Rosie moved to
one side and nodded to the man. But he ignored them and moved quickly to Mary’s
desk. “You’re the one, right, the one from the article?” he asked abruptly.

Mary pushed herself up to stand and nodded. “Yes, I’m Mary
O’Reilly,” she replied.
 
Her immediately
reaction to the man was mistrust.
 
There
was something about him that made her skin crawl, and she fought a strong
impulse to move away from him. “Is there something I can do for you?”

Reaching into his overcoat, he pulled out a leather-bound
checkbook. “I want to pay you,” he said, slapping the checkbook on the desk and
pulling out a gold-plated ink pen, “to verify that my house in Pearl City is
haunted.”

“Verify?” Mary asked.

He
nodded,
his focus on the check
he was writing. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he said. “Not only will you be
paid well for it, but the publicity you receive will send your career soaring
and you will be in demand throughout the country.”

Mary shook her head, but he didn’t notice. “I’m sorry,” she
said firmly. “But I’m not interested.”

Abruptly looking up, he stared at Mary with an unbelieving
look. “I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“I said I’m not interested,” Mary repeated, trying to keep a
polite façade of friendliness on her face when all she really wanted to do was
escort him out of her office. “I’m not in the ghost verifying business.”

Misunderstanding, he shook his head. “Oh, that’s no
problem,” he said, a look of relief on his face. “I can tell you what to do.
What papers you have to fill out.
 
Where to send the press releases.
 
I’m an expert on paranormal activity.”

She nodded slowly. “If you’re an expert, why do you need
me?” she asked.

“Well, my house is one of the top ten haunted houses in the
country,” he said. “And I always strive to provide valid, professional and
impartial sources to verify its authenticity.”

“Impartial sources that you pay?” she asked, her eyebrow
lifting in skepticism.

“I only pay to cover expenses,” he said, ripping the check
from the book and handing it to her.

Mary shook her head and refused to take it. “No, really, I’m
sorry,” she replied again, “but I’m not interested in verifying that your house
is haunted.
 
That’s not what I do.” She
raised her hand to stop his response. “It’s not that I can’t do it, it’s that I
won’t do it.
 
My gift is for helping
ghosts move from this plane to the next.
 
It’s not to…
“ she
paused trying to find the
right word, “use the ones who are still here.”

“But my ghosts don’t want to move on,” he argued. “They want
to stay at my house.
 
They want to
protect the house. They want to keep other people out.
 
That’s why the people who stay with me
experience so much paranormal activity.
Because the ghosts
are trying to scare them away.”

“Well, with so much activity, I’m sure you have plenty of
verification without me,” Mary responded. “Thank you for stopping by.”

The man’s face turned red and his eyes hardened. “Do you
think you’re better than me?” he demanded.

 
Taken by surprise,
Mary stepped back from her desk and studied the man. “No. No, I don’t think I’m
better than anyone,” she said. “Mr.—?”

“Atkinson. Sol Atkinson,” he said, dropping the check on her
desk. “Then you think it over, because I don’t take no as an answer. I’ll get
back to you later in the week for your reply.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, he turned on his
heel and strode out of the office, the door banging shut behind him.

“What an utterly unpleasant man,” Rosie said, moving back to
the desk and lifting up the check. “Mary, this man just wrote you a check for
five thousand dollars!”

Stanley looked over Rosie’s shoulder at the check and rolled
back on his heels. “Must want something pretty badly
iffen
he’s willing to pay that much money just for
a verification
,”
Stanley said.
“Worth doing a little investigation of Mr.
Atkinson.”

Nodding, Mary lowered herself to her chair. “I’d be happy to
hear anything you learn about Mr. Atkinson,” Mary said. “But I’ve already
decided that I want nothing to do with that man. He really gives me the
creeps.”

“Perhaps Bradley ought to be here when he comes by to pick
up his check,” Rosie suggested.

Mary silently bristled slightly at Rosie’s suggestion.
 
Just because she was pregnant was no reason
for her not to be able to handle some loud-mouthed bully.
 
She didn’t need Bradley’s help to run her own
business.

But she smiled at Rosie when she replied. “Well, I’ll keep
that in mind,” she said. “But I’m sure Mr. Atkinson is more bark than bite.”

BOOK: Stolen Dreams
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