Never Forgotten (22 page)

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Authors: Terri Reid

Tags: #General Fiction Speculative Fiction Suspense

BOOK: Never Forgotten
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She angled herself so she was sitting alongside the wall. Then with all her might, she threw her weight against the board.
Another crack.
She repeated the process and the board split.

Mary maneuvered her tied wrists behind the board, placed her feet against the wall for leverage and pulled. The board pulled free and Mary heard a clattering sound as she fell back. She sat up and saw a collection of human bones on the floor next to her feet.

“You found me.”

Mary looked around to see Shirley Thompson, the ghost from the cemetery, hovering next to her. “These are your bones?”

Shirley nodded. “They sealed me in here,” she said.

“They told everyone I left my boys; I would have never left my boys.”

“Did your husband put you in here?” Mary asked.

“Yes,” she said.
“My husband and Luke.
He made Luke help him. Made Luke lie to the others.”

Shirley flew around the area. “Now what did they do with my luggage,” she said, searching the rafters. “They must have hid them somewhere in here.”

While Shirley searched, Mary found a jagged nail in the wall and cut through the ropes on her hands. She leaned over and untied her feet.

“Shirley, which way out?” she called.

Shirley pointed to the left.

Mary began climbing up the hay. Each forty foot stack was comprised of rectangular bales about four feet wide and two feet high, wrapped in a rough twine. Mary began her climb, sticking her feet between the bales and grasping the twine to pull
herself
up. When she reached about twenty feet, she rested one foot on a support beam on the wall. Her hands were cut and bleeding, her body hurt and she was just plain tired. Then she heard the voices.

“Luke, I can tell you’re lying again,” one male voice said. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Nothing,” Luke said. “Just go back into town and I’ll handle things.”

Shirley flew by. “My boys,” she said. “My boys are arguing.”

“Did Paul know anything about your death?” Mary asked,

Shaking her head, Shirley perched near Mary. “No, he was just a toddler. He had no idea.”

“So, Paul didn’t kill Peggy, did he?”

“No, it was Luke. Paul doesn’t know
,
Luke was blackmailing Peggy so she didn’t tell Paul.”

“What in the world did Luke have on Peggy?”

“Peggy’s family had some black sheep that Luke discovered through his work at the hospital,” Shirley said. “He hadn’t wanted Paul to get married in the first place, so when he discovered she hadn’t been totally honest with Paul, he started hitting her.”

“And it got worse, the more she allowed it,” Mary guessed.

She pulled herself up and started climbing again. “Well, come on, I need to get out of here.”

The arguing continued outside as Mary climbed another ten feet. About thirty-five feet above the floor, the stack started to shift. “Crap!” Mary called.

Frantically looking around, she saw a small loft about a foot above her against the wall. As the stack started to crumble beneath her, she dove for the loft. She grasped hold of one of the support beams and pulled herself up.

The small four by four
platform
was covered in dust and cobwebs, but in the corner against the wall was a suitcase and a small steamer trunk. “You found my things,” Shirley said. “He must have hidden them up here because we never get a hay harvest that reaches this loft.”

“Fine, Luke, I’m leaving,” Paul was yelling. “But you had better clean up this mess before I get back. You shouldn’t be sleeping with another man’s wife no matter how willing she might be.”

“Oh, gross,” Mary said, “He told Paul we were sleeping together.”

She turned to the ghost. “We need to stop Paul, now.”

Shirley turned to her and nodded. “It’s time Paul learned the truth. Hold on, Mary.”

The wooden siding on the outside of the barn began to tremble as if a tornado had caught the barn in its grasp. Boards were ripped from the side of the barn and went flying into the barnyard.

“What the hell?” Mary heard Paul yell.

Like a giant wave, the boards pulled off the barn in succession, one after the other until they reached the loft Mary was perched on. The boards flew off and then stopped.

“Do you think I got their attention?” Shirley giggled.

Mary nodded, “Oh, yeah, that did the trick.”

Mary watched Shirley shove the suitcase and trunk off the loft and let them hurtle to the ground below. She moved to the edge of the platform. The luggage had fallen on top of the boards and split open, Shirley’s clothes scattered out.

“What the hell is this?” Paul asked, picking up a dress.

Luke pulled it away from Paul, “Nothing, it’s nothing. Get out of here, Paul.”

Paul picked up another dress. “I remember this,” he said. “I remember Mom wearing this.”

Luke grabbed it. “No, you’re wrong,” he screamed. “She left us. This is not hers.”

“How about this trunk?”
Paul asked, picking up the small steamer. “I remember this. It was on Mom’s dresser. Luke, what’s going on? Dad told us Mom took these with her.”

“You were too young,” Luke said. “You don’t remember. She was bad. She was evil. She didn’t love us.”

Paul shook his head. “I remember her,” he said. “She was loving, tender and kind. I loved her. I could never understand why she would leave without taking us with her.”

“Well, she did,” Luke said. “And there’s nothing we can do to change things.”

Mary leaned out over the edge of the building. “He’s lying, Paul,” Mary called. “He’s lied to you all of your life.”

“Shut the hell up,” Luke screamed. “Just shut the hell up.”

“Why Luke?
You don’t want me to tell your brother that while I was trying to escape from you murdering me, I found your mother’s bones sealed up inside this barn?”

“Or maybe you don’t want me to tell your brother that you killed his wife when you found out she was pregnant?”

“How did you know…,” Luke gasped.

“You killed Peggy?” Paul asked, astonished. “You killed my wife?”

“I did it for you,” Luke cried, “She would have left you, just like mom.”

“Your mom never left, Luke,” Mary called. “Your father killed her and made you help him cover it up. She loved you. She would have never left either of you.”

“She didn’t love us,” Luke pleaded. “Dad told me, she never cared for us.”

“He lied to you, Luke,” Mary said. “He lied to you and he made a little boy betray his mother.”

“You killed Peggy?” Paul repeated, disbelief turning to anger. “You killed my wife? You killed my baby?”

Paul grabbed his brother by the front of his coat and lifted him from the ground. “You killed her,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “I loved her.”

He started shaking Luke and tightening his grip on the collar of his coat. “You killed her,” he repeated, while Luke struggled against the strangle hold.

“Paul,” Mary called, watching Luke’s face turn red. “Paul, let him go.”

Mary looked around and saw a ladder built into the side of the barn, a foot from the platform. She crawled to the edge of the platform and swung over to the ladder.

“Paul,” she yelled again, as she climbed down. “Paul, don’t kill your brother.”

Mary ran the few feet between the barn and Paul and grabbed on to his arm. “Neither Peggy or your Mother would want you to do this to your brother,” she said. “Paul, let go.”

Paul shook his head, as if he finally realized what he was doing. He immediately loosened his grip and Luke fell to the ground. “Oh, no, did
I
…”

Mary knelt down next to Luke and felt for his pulse. “No, he’s not dead,” she said.
“Just unconscious.”

Paul sat down on the ground and sobbed. “Peggy. Peggy, I’m so sorry.”

“Paul, Peggy loved you too,” she said. “She never blamed you. She was excited about the baby. She knew you would be too.”

He lifted his tear-stained face up. “Where…where did he put her?”

“He buried her in your trash dump,” she said. “I put an old kitchen table over the spot I think he buried her.”

“You?
How did you?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you about it, I promise,” she said. “But right now, I need to go help a friend. I’ll call 911 and send someone here to help you.”

He nodded and placed his head back in his hands.

Mary ran to the SUV and grabbed her phone.

“Don’t send the police in,” Jeannine said, before Mary could dial.

“Why not?”

“She’ll kill him,” she said.

Mary shook her head, “She couldn’t get away with it,” she argued.

“He’s been sick. He called her to pick him up,” Jeannine said. “And he died while she was taking care of him. She’s free and clear.”

“Damn, you’re right,” Mary agreed. “I just hope I can get there fast enough.”

Mary turned the SUV around and caught a glimpse of both Shirley and Peggy surrounding Paul; she hoped that he could feel some of the supernatural comfort being offered.

Putting the SUV in four-wheel drive, Mary sped down the gravel roads. Once she reached Highway 26, she was able to take one hand off the wheel and call 911, asking for a Sheriff’s Deputy to go to the Thompson Farm. Then she pressed her foot on the accelerator and sped toward Freeport.

Chapter 38

Something smells bad, Bradley thought once he began to regain consciousness. He sniffed the air again. Like something died. He slowly opened his eyes and tried to look around his surroundings. At first everything was blurry.
Probably the after-effects of the drug.
Then things started to clear up. The fuzzy item positioned a couple feet in front of him began to slowly come into focus.

Is that a leather jacket?

Is that a Halloween decoration?

He leaned forward to get a better look and suddenly his vision cleared, leaving him less than a foot from the mummified corpse. “What the hell,” Bradley yelled, pushing back in his chair.

The chair skidded back and crashed against the wall behind him. He found, that like his neighbor the corpse, he was strapped to his chair too.

“Oh, Bradley, you’re awake.”

Angela’s voice had him quickly turning his head to the left, watching her enter the small room through a makeshift door.

“And I see you’ve met Daddy,” she continued with a sweet smile. “Daddy’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Angela, your father is dead,” Bradley said, trying to remain calm, but not willing to be pulled into her fantasy world.

“Bradley, it’s not polite to bring something like that up on a girl’s wedding day,” she replied tartly. “And you haven’t even commented on how you like my dress.”

Angela was dressed in a full-length wedding gown, carrying a bouquet of red roses, her hair was pulled back and piled on top of her head and she was wearing a veil.

“You’re getting married?” he asked.

She giggled, but he heard the sharp edge underneath it. “We’re getting married,” she replied firmly. “This is our wedding day, Bradley dearest.”

She walked over to him and ran her fingers through his hair. “I know you’ve wanted me for as long as I’ve wanted you,” she said. “And soon our wait will be over.”

She leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips. Bradley tried to pull away, but the straps around his head, shoulders, arms, waist and legs held him tightly to the chair.

He twisted his head to end the kiss. “Angela, I can’t marry you,” he said. “I’m already married.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said, straightening up and crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve never seen your wife. Besides, you were hugging Mary O’Reilly.”

“My wife disappeared years ago, after our house was broken into,” he explained. “I’ve spent years searching for her. I just haven’t found her yet.”

“And Mary?”
Angela asked.

“Well, Mary and I worked together and we fell in love,” he explained honestly, hoping that would dampen Angela’s desires. “But we both realize that nothing can happen until I find Jeannine.”

Angela was silent for a few moments, tapping her foot impatiently. “Well, Daddy says Jeannine is dead,” she said. “So there’s no problem with me marrying you.”

“Jeannine is not dead,” Bradley said. “I would know.”

Angela waited again.

“Daddy says you know, in your heart, but you just don’t want to give her up.”

“Well, not only is your Daddy dead, he’s wrong,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, I just told you that I love Mary. You don’t want to marry someone who loves someone else.”

“Well, Mary will be dead pretty soon too,” she said casually, “So that won’t be an issue either.”

Bradley pulled against the straps on the chairs, rocking it violently back and forth. “What have you done to Mary?”

Angela smiled sweetly. “Oh, I haven’t done a thing,” she grinned. “It’s that Doctor Thompson who’s going to take care of her. Did you know he killed his sister-in-law? Daddy told me. So, I told Doctor Thompson all about Mary and looking for Jane Does and driving her little Roadster. He was very interested. He was going to call her out to the farm today and surprise her.”

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