Buried Innocence - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery - Book Thirteen (Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series)

BOOK: Buried Innocence - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery - Book Thirteen (Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series)
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Buried Innocence

A MARY O’REILLY PARANORMAL MYSTERY

(Book Thirteen)

by

Terri Reid

 
 
 

“I didn’t give you the gift of life
,
But in my heart I know.
The love I feel is deep and real
,
As if it had been so.
For us to have each other
Is
like a dream come true!
No, I didn’t give you
The gift of life
,
Life gave me the gift of you.”
Unknown

 

This book is dedicated to my daughters-in-law,
who have allowed the blessings of adoption to touch our lives and hearts, and
enrich our family.
 
 
I love you!

 
 

BURIED INNOCENCE – A MARY O’REILLY
PARANORMAL MYSTERY

by

Terri
Reid

Copyright
© 2014 by Terri Reid

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under
copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by
any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise)
without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above
publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination
or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and
trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which
have been used without permission. The publication/ use of these trademarks is
not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

This
ebook
is licensed for your
personal enjoyment only. This
ebook
may not be resold
or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with
another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it
with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you
for respecting the author’s work.

The author
would like to thank all those who have contributed to the creation of this
book: Richard Reid, Sarah Powers, Virginia Onines, Denise Carpenter, Juliette
Wilson, Maureen
Marella
, Donna
Basch
of the Galena-Jo Daviess County Historical Society & U.S. Grant
Museum and Hillary
Gadd
.

She would also like to thank all of
the wonderful readers who walk with her through Mary and Bradley’s adventures
and encourage her along the way. I hope we continue on this wonderful journey
for a long time.

 
 

Table of Contents

Prologue
.
5

Chapter
One
.
10

Chapter
Two
.
18

Chapter
Three
.
22

Chapter
Four
26

Chapter
Five
.
29

Chapter
Six
.
32

Chapter
Seven
.
36

Chapter
Eight
43

Chapter
Nine
.
47

Chapter
Ten
.
51

Chapter
Eleven
.
54

Chapter
Twelve
.
57

Chapter
Thirteen
.
61

Chapter
Fourteen
.
65

Chapter
Fifteen
.
68

Chapter
Sixteen
.
71

Chapter
Seventeen
.
75

Chapter
Eighteen
.
79

Chapter
Nineteen
.
85

Chapter
Twenty
.
89

Chapter
Twenty-one
.
92

Chapter
Twenty-two
.
95

Chapter
Twenty-three
.
99

Chapter
Twenty-four
104

Chapter
Twenty-five
.
108

Chapter
Twenty-six
.
112

Chapter
Twenty-seven
.
116

Chapter
Twenty-eight
119

Chapter
Twenty-nine
.
122

Chapter
Thirty
.
127

Chapter
Thirty-one
.
131

Chapter
Thirty-two
.
134

Chapter
Thirty-three
.
137

Chapter
Thirty-four
140

Chapter
Thirty-five
.
145

Chapter
Thirty-six
.
148

Chapter
Thirty-seven
.
152

Chapter
Thirty-eight
155

Chapter
Thirty-nine
.
158

Chapter
Forty
.
162

Chapter
Forty-one
.
164

Chapter
Forty-two
.
167

Chapter
Forty-three
.
170

Chapter
Forty-four
173

Chapter
Forty-five
.
175

Chapter
Forty-six
.
178

Chapter
Forty-seven
.
181

Chapter
Forty-eight
184

Chapter
Forty-nine
.
190

Chapter
Fifty
.
194

Chapter
Fifty-one
.
198

Chapter
Fifty-two
.
201

Chapter
Fifty-three
.
205

Chapter
Fifty-four
209

Prologue
 

Donna McIntyre’s
old car chugged up the hill, straining as it climbed the cobblestoned street
leading to her apartment. She leaned forward in the driver’s seat, willing the
old, gas-guzzling Buick to keep moving. Glancing over to her son, Ryan, sitting
in his car seat behind her, she smiled to herself as she saw he was leaning
forward too. “We’ll make it, right?” she asked him.

He nodded and with
his six-year old wisdom added. “It’s been a long day for Bertha. She’s just
tired, Mommy.”

Donna had only
spent $500 on Bertha Buick, and the car had been faithfully delivering them
back and forth from their small apartment, to Ryan’s daycare and then to
Donna’s workplace. She avoided adding any extra miles to Bertha’s day, but they
had run out of groceries and so had added an extra ten miles to drive back and
forth to the grocery store. “I know, sweetheart,” she agreed. “And she did a
great job today. I promise once we park her for the night, she will be able to
sleep for at least ten hours.”

“Then she’ll be
happy,” Ryan said with a satisfied nod.

Bertha coughed a
few times but eventually made it up the hill and into the parking spot next to
their apartment building. “Good job,” Ryan said, patting the dashboard in front
of him. “I’m very proud of you.”

Donna grinned. Ryan
had used the same words and inflection she used when she encouraged him. It was
great to know that he actually heard what she was saying. “Yes, Bertha did a
great job,” she agreed. “And now we need to carry our groceries upstairs and
let her take a nap.”

“I can help carry
things,” Ryan volunteered. “I have strong muscles.”

“Excellent,” she
said. “Let’s see if we can get everything in one trip.”

She got of the car,
reached into the backseat and unhooked Ryan from his car seat, and then opened
the trunk of the car for the groceries. There weren’t a lot of bags. Her tight
budget only allowed for the necessities, but there were enough of the basics to
keep them healthy and satisfy
Ryan’s
growing appetite.
She pulled out the lightest bag and gave it to Ryan. “Can you carry this one?”
she asked.

He hefted the bag
close to his chest and smiled up at his mom. “I’ve got it,” he exclaimed with a
wide smile. “See?”

She slipped her
hands through the plastic openings in the bags and pulled the remaining eight
bags from the back of the car. She tested and found them evenly balanced, then
turned to Ryan. “You’re doing a great job,” she said to Ryan. “Now, can you
hold on to my jacket, and we can walk together to the door, okay?”

Grabbing on to the
hem of his mother’s jacket, he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”

They walked across
the small parking lot to the front door. Donna was able to wedge open the door
with her elbow and hold it open until Ryan was in. She looked up the steep
staircase and sighed silently. Someday she was going to live on the first floor
instead of the third one. Pasting a smile on her face, she turned to Ryan.
“Ready for the climb up the mountain?” she asked.

Smiling and
nodding, he moved to the staircase. “Maybe there will be snow on the top of the
mountain,” he said, stepping up in front of her.

“Or maybe a
mountain lion,” she replied, following him up.

“Or maybe a giant
eagle,” he suggested as he climbed slowly up the stairs.

“Or maybe a
wizard,” she added.

He nodded as he
pulled himself up the stairs, using his free hand on the banister. “A wizard
would be cool,” he said. “And maybe he could use magic, and we could fly up the
stairs.”

“That would be
cool,” Donna agreed. “And maybe he could turn our apartment into a palace.”

Ryan climbed a few
more stairs, thinking about her comment before he responded. “But, Mom, if our
apartment is turned into a palace, would Liza still be there?”

She smiled. Liza
was Ryan’s imaginary friend, and he had been weaving amazing tales about
conversations he had with her. She was pleased to see that he had such a great
imagination. “Well, I’m sure Liza could come with us,” she agreed. “After all,
she’s part of our family.”

“Yeah, Liza doesn’t
have her own family anymore,” he replied thoughtfully.

They finally made
it to their floor, and they walked over to the door. She unlocked it, pushed
open the door and flipped on the light. “Why don’t you play for a few minutes
while I put the groceries away and start dinner,” she suggested.

Ryan dropped the
bag he was holding just inside the door and ran into the small living room.
“I’m going to play school with Liza, okay?” he asked.

Bending to scoop up
one more
bag
, Donna took a deep breath, willing the
tiredness to go away and nodded. “That sounds great, sweetheart,” she said.

Placing the bags on
the counter, she slipped off her jacket and hung it on the back of a kitchen
chair. Then she pulled an apron over her work clothes and started unpacking the
groceries, first putting the refrigerated foods away and then working on the
canned goods. She smiled as she heard Ryan singing. It wasn’t a tune she was
familiar with, so he must have learned it in daycare.

“Where did you
learn that song?” she asked him, leaning over the open counter to listen more
closely to the words.

“Liza taught it to
me,” he said.

She smiled. “Well,
say thank you to Liza for me,” she replied. “It’s a pretty song.”

He continued
singing, “
Who will wipe away my tears? Who
will chase away my fears? Who will sing me to sleep at night? Who will tuck me
in real tight? Now that Momma’s dead and gone, now that Momma’s dead and gone.”

Slightly alarmed at
the lyrics, Donna walked around the counter and entered the living room. “How
would you like to watch your favorite cartoon?” she asked, picking up a DVD on
a shelf next to the television set and sliding it into the DVD player.

“But Liza still
wants to sing,” Ryan said.

“Well, Liza can
sing, and you can watch television,” she said. “How’s that for a compromise.”

He nodded. “I guess
that will be fine.”

She turned on the
television and waited until Ryan’s show started before returning to the kitchen
to put away the rest of the groceries. She opened up a cupboard and was
reaching up to the top shelf to put an extra jar of peanut butter away when she
heard the soft voice behind her. It was high-pitched, like a little girl’s
voice, but it held an ethereal quality to it as it filled the kitchen.

“Who will wipe away my tears? Who will chase
away my fears? Who will sing me to sleep at night? Who will tuck me in real
tight? Now that Momma’s dead and gone, now that Momma’s dead and gone.”

Donna’s heart was
pounding, and her hands clutched the countertop. She was breathing heavily and
was too frightened to move. Suddenly she felt a cold wash of air on her neck,
and she held her breath.

“Momma’s dead and
gone,” the ghostly voice whispered in her ear.
“Dead and
gone.”

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