Never Forgotten (6 page)

She leaned across the table and gently kissed him on the cheek. Stanley turned beet red and shrugged. “Well, hell, you didn’t have to go and do that,” he muttered. “But, well, you’re welcome.”

Rosie smiled and sat back down. “So, what are the next steps to find out what happened to our ghost?” she asked.

“I’m going to meet with the Director at VOICES tomorrow,” Bradley said. “The information they get from their clients is confidential, so I’m not sure how far I’ll get. But since this is a suspected murder, she might be able to at least point me in the right direction.”

“That would be great,” Mary said. “I’m going to pay a visit to the Coroner and see if she has any Jane Does or anyone who died of unexplained causes.”

“How old was she, Mary?” Stanley asked.

“I’m really bad at guessing ages,” she admitted, biting her lower lip in concentration. “But I would say in her mid-thirties. Why?”

“Well, if the husband was about her age, then his mother would have left them about twenty to twenty-five years ago,” he replied. “I’ll ask around, see if anyone remembers something like that.”

“Excellent idea,” Mary said. “I’d think something like that would be talked about for a while.”

“Mary, when you see her again,” Rosie added. “Tell her it wasn’t her fault. Tell her she didn’t cause it. Tell her that no matter what, there is never an excuse for one person to hit another person.
Ever!”

Mary watched from the door as Stanley walked Rosie to her car. He was more solicitous than usual, lightly touching her elbow to guide her around patches of snow and ice.

“I don’t know who was more shook up about this whole conversation,” Bradley commented, standing directly behind Mary, “Stanley or Rosie.”

Mary hugged herself and leaned back against Bradley. “It’s hard to imagine a childhood with a father like that,” she said. “I often forget how lucky I am.”

Bradley wrapped his arms around Mary and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Yeah, I was lucky too. My parents really loved each other and they showed it every day.”

“And you and Jeannine?” Mary asked, hating herself for asking.

“We loved each other,” he said. “And we respected each other. I still don’t understand why she left me.”

Mary closed the door and turned around in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist, laid her head against his chest and hugged him. “I know in my heart that she didn’t leave you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what happened to her, but she would have never left you.”

Bradley laid his head on top of hers and returned the hug. “Thanks,” he said. “That means a lot to me.”

She stepped back and smiled up at him, though her heart was heavy with guilt. “So, what are we going to do today?” she asked brightly.

“Want to help me find a ghost?” he asked with a smile.

“Why Bradley, how did you know that’s my favorite thing to do?”

In fifteen minutes they were pulling up in front of City Hall. Bradley unlocked the door and led Mary to the base of the staircase. “I’m going to let you go up first,” he explained. “So I don’t interfere with anything. But I’ll be following close behind.”

Mary looked up the tall, narrow staircase. “Nothing is going to jump out at me, right?” she asked.

He grinned. “I don’t think so, but I can’t promise a thing.”

“Thanks,” she replied.

She started up the staircase. The afternoon sun was bright enough to cast a warm glow from the second floor down the stairs. She reached the second level and turned toward the former Chief’s Office. She walked slowly, all of her senses keyed on detecting any paranormal energies or entities. She closed her eyes, concentrating on her feelings.

“Excuse me, can I help you?”

The woman’s voice seemed to come out of thin air. Mary jumped and squealed.

The woman was stunning; dark shoulder-length hair, a heart-shaped face with striking green eyes and a figure that filled out her clothes very nicely.

“I’m sorry,” Mary said, her heart beating a mile a minute. “You surprised me.”

“Well, when you’re standing in the middle of a hallway with your eyes closed, that’s bound to happen.”

Mary laughed. “You’re right. I was…I was looking for Chief Alden’s Office when a speck of dust got in my eye,” she lied. “I was just trying to let my tears wash it out.”

“Well, he’s not in today,” she said. “It’s Sunday…”

“Mary, are you okay?” Bradley’s voice echoed in the stairwell.

The woman cocked her head slightly. “Well, I suppose you have more information than I.”

Bradley poked his head around the corner. “I heard you call out…” he said, pausing when he realized they weren’t alone. “Angela, hello, I didn’t expect to find you here today.”

“Obviously.”

“Mary, have you met Angela Murray, the Coroner?” Bradley asked, “Angela, this is Mary O’Reilly, she owns and operates O’Reilly Investigative Services.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of you,” Angela said, with a pleasant smile. “You’ve really made a name for yourself in local law enforcement. And, I have to admit, I love the fact that you’re not only great at what you do…but you’re a woman.”

“Yes,” Bradley agreed, “I love that fact too.”

When Mary glared sideways at him, he simply shrugged and added, “I don’t think professional women, especially in male dominated fields, are appreciated the way they should be.”

Angela’s smile widened and she placed her hand on his arm and squeezed it lightly. “Well, I knew I liked you for some reason.”

She released his arm and turned to Mary. “So are you working on a case together?”

“Yes, we were just going to run some queries on missing women,” Mary said. “As a matter of fact, I was going to stop by and see you tomorrow. We’re looking for a potential Jane Doe.”

Angela nodded. “I’d be happy to help you,” she said. “Stop by any time after nine and I’ll help you with anything you need.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” Mary replied.

Angela moved past them and then turned, “Oh, by the way, Bradley, I left a Christmas present for you on your desk last week,” she said. “It was a tin of tea, a special combination of herbs that’s been a family recipe for years. I hope you like it.”

“Oh, yes, I did get it, thank you,” he said, eyeing Mary meaningfully. “I haven’t had a chance to try it yet, but I will.”

Angela smiled. “See that you do,” she said. “It’s quite nice.”

“Well, then, I’ll try it today,” he said.

“See you tomorrow, Mary.”

“Thanks, Angela, see you then.”

She continued downstairs and they waited until they heard the door close and click shut behind her. “She seems nice,” Mary said, wondering if those nagging feelings were jealousy. “What do you think of her?”

“Is this one of those ‘does this make my butt look fat’ kinds of question?” he teased.

She grinned and started walking down the hallway, “It all depends on how you answer it.”

She turned to smile and then was hit with a strong impression of utter desolation. Her smile turned to shock. Bradley rushed to her side. “Are you…”

She placed her hand over her mouth and shook her head to silence him. She let the first wave of feeling pass over her, took a deep breath and moved closer to the source. She staggered down the hall, letting the emotions pull her in the right direction. She finally stopped, directly in front of the door to the former Chief’s office. She placed her hand on the doorknob and slowly opened it.

He had been a handsome man, she thought, looking at the shadow of the man standing in the middle of the corridor. She followed him to the corner of the room, watching him peer out of the window. Wondering what he was seeing.

“Sam, Chief Rogers?” she asked quietly. “Is that you?”

He turned and looked surprised. “You can see me?” he rasped.

She nodded. “Yes, and I’m here to help you move on.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m still here,” he said. “I can’t seem to go beyond this office.”

Bradley entered the room. “Mary?”

“Back here with Chief Rogers,” she called.

“He can see me too?” Sam asked.

“Not yet,” she said, then reached out and held Bradley’s hand. “Now he can.”

“So, you’re the young whippersnapper who took my job,” Sam said.

“Well, sir, I have the title,” Bradley replied, “but I have yet to fill the shoes.”

Sam smiled. “I like you. And young lady, who would you be?”

“Mary O’Reilly, sir.
Nice to meet you.
If you don’t mind me asking, how did you die?”

“Well, near as I can remember, I just keeled over on Christmas Eve,” he said.
“Nothing unusual about that.
Must have been an ulcer.”

“An ulcer,” Mary asked. “Most people don’t keel over from an ulcer. Did you have heart problems?”

Sam shrugged. “No, strong as an ox, but for a couple of weeks before I died, my stomach was acting up,” he explained. “That’s why I figured it had to be my stomach.”

“Let me see what I can find out,” Mary said.

“Before you go…my wife…”

“Sam, your wife died several hours before they found your body,” Bradley said.

Sam nodded and his eyes glistened with tears. “Well, then, maybe I died of a broken heart.”

Angela Murray unlocked the door and entered her home. She stood on the white ceramic tile, leaned against the ivory wall and removed her boots. She stepped across the small entryway and sank her feet into plush white wall-to-wall carpeting. Her briefcase in one hand and her mail in the other, she headed for the white and stainless steel computer table in the corner alcove of her living room. She placed the briefcase next to her desk and put the mail in a basket on a shelf above the desk.

She slipped off her coat and laid it over the back of a white leather couch, and then padded into the kitchen. Gleaming stainless steel appliances, black marble countertops and glossy red cabinets sparkled under bright work lights. Copper-clad pots and pans hung from a black wrought-iron rack. Black marble floors shimmered under her feet.

Against one wall several steel shelves held apothecary jars of various shapes and sizes with cork lids. The glass jars sparkled in the bright light. Angela took one of the jars from the shelf and lifted the lid. She inhaled deeply and smiled. “This will be perfect.”

Filling a kettle with water, she set it on the burner and turned the switch on. While the water heated, she walked back into the living room and turned on her laptop computer. Sorting through the mail as it booted up, she discarded junk mail and stacked a pile of envelopes in another basket that was labeled “Orders.”

The computer login screen came up. Angela sat in the black leather office chair and typed in her name “Wormwood.” After typing in her password, she hit enter and a new screen appeared. She connected with the Internet and accessed a webpage “Magic Hollow Herbs and Potions.” Typing quickly, she entered the administrative area and checked on her sales. She smiled, two hundred orders, her little side-business was doing so much better than she had imagined. She clicked the print icon and the wireless printer across the room began to churn out order sheets and mailing labels. Now, all she had to do was box them up and ship them out.

She turned back to the computer and accessed her blog. A picture of an older woman sitting happily in the midst of a large herb garden smiled out at her. “Hello, Momma,” she whispered, touching the monitor briefly. “What shall we talk about today?”

“Dear Readers,” she typed, “We have just entered the time of the Birch Moon in the Celtic Tree Calendar, from December 24th through January 20th. This is a wonderful time of year because it is a time of renewal. We are passing the Solstice and looking forward to more light and more power. The Birch is the first tree to grow in the forest after a fire. It is used in spells and potions for protection. It can also be used for creativity and healing. I use it to bring about a new beginning, especially where romance is concerned.

Do you want a new beginning? Do you want to rid yourself of an unpleasant past? Order our birch cones for your fireplaces and our birch incense for your burners. We also have Birch twigs that you can use as talismans to protect you and ward off any negative supernatural energy.”

She reread it once, nodded with approval and hit the submit button. The new blog entry appeared on her home page.

The whistling from the kettle pulled her away from her computer. She hurried over to the kitchen counter, scooped out a spoonful of the dried herbs in the jar and put them in a teapot. She poured the boiling water over the leaves and inhaled the tangy scent of freshly brewed tea. As the tea steeped, she took out a cup and saucer of delicate bone china and set it on the counter next to the tea pot.

She turned and saw her computer screen switch to her new screen saver. She smiled with delight as a photo of Police Chief Bradley Alden appeared before her. She leaned back against the counter and stared at the screen, memorizing the smile lines around his eyes, the natural tilt of his smile and the strong set of his chin. Sighing, she reached absently for the teapot and brushed her thumb against the hot kettle instead.