Buried Innocence - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery - Book Thirteen (Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series) (10 page)

Standing on the
sidewalk in front of Donna’s apartment, Mary gazed down Main Street for
Bradley’s cruiser and then pulled out her phone to check the time. There was
still about five minutes before he was scheduled to be there, but Mary was
anxious to meet the people who had given Liza away.

Taking a deep
breath, she slightly chastised herself, “Just take it easy. He’ll be here in a
few minutes.”

She made a point of
stepping back mentally and studying her surroundings. The afternoon sun was
still hot, and Mary could see heat waves rising from the sidewalk at the end of
the street. The sounds of Main Street were like a summer orchestra; the
cicadas’ song was an underlying buzz of bass beneath the higher sounds of
traffic, conversation, and canned music from the storefronts. The scents of
Main Street were again eclectic and mouthwatering; a mix of specialty shop
aromas, from chocolate to popcorn, mixed with the scent of freshly ground
coffee from the gourmet bean shops. Those combined with the tangy smells of
meat grilling from the steak houses and garlic and oregano from the Italian
restaurants.
 

She felt a wave of
serenity wash over her as she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply once more.

“
You’re
smelling
the chocolate, aren’t you?” Mike asked.

“
Shhhhh
,” she whispered. “I’m having a food fantasy.”

He chuckled. “I
don’t want to disturb your daydream,” he said, “but Bradley just parked the car
down the street.”

She opened her eyes
immediately and looked down the street.
Bradley,
dressed in his khaki police uniform, stepped out of the car and glanced down
the street, assessing the area quickly. When he caught Mary’s eyes, he smiled,
and her heart quickened.

He walked towards
her with an easy, athletic stride that accentuated his long legs and broad
shoulders. Mary sighed appreciatively. “He is such a hunk,” she said.

“Yeah, if you go
for that kind of obvious, all-American, incredibly masculine, hero type of
guy,” Mike replied.

Mary sighed again.
“Yeah, if you go for that type,” she repeated with a wide smile.

“It seems that
you’re not the only one who appreciates that type,” Mike commented, noting the
interest of more than a few female tourists who stopped window shopping to gaze
at him appreciatively. A few more aggressive ones smiled invitingly in his
direction when he passed by.

“He doesn’t even
see them,” Mike said.

“Yeah, I noticed,”
Mary replied
,
a wide grin on her face as Bradley
reached them.

“Hi,” she said,
reaching up to kiss him.

He looped his arms
around her waist and held her lightly. “Hi yourself,” he replied, gazing into
her eyes. “I missed you.”

He tightened his
hold and bent over, softly tasting the edges of her lips, teasing her, until he
was driving her crazy. She softly moaned, slid her hands up through his hair
and held him in place so her lips could be firmly fixed on his. His seductive
chuckle of appreciation sent a wave of passion through her body, and she
shivered in his arms. He deepened the kiss, giving them both more of what they
wanted but not enough to satiate the burning in her abdomen.

“Um, I hate to
interrupt your reunion, but you are standing on a public street. And, you do
have an appointment in Dubuque,” Mike reminded them. “And while you two are out
of town, it’s my job to keep an eye on Clarissa, so I’ve got to get out of
here.”

Bradley
straightened up, Mary still in his arms, and exhaled slowly as he looked down
at his wife. “Did I happen to mention that you look incredibly sexy today?” he
asked.

Shaking her head,
she smiled up at him. “Yeah, I’ve heard that a protruding belly is fairly hot,”
she replied ironically, “especially for the Santa Claus crowd.”

He stepped back and
placed his hands on her belly. “A tiny belly with our baby in it is extremely
hot,” he replied, his face sincere. “Never forget that.”

“I won’t,” she
said.
“So, not that I minded, but why did you walk up here?
I thought we were going in your car?”

He shrugged and
tried to hide the glint in his eyes. “Well, I thought that the cruiser was less
likely to get a parking ticket in Galena.”

“How did you know?”
she asked, astonished. “How could you possibly know?”

She turned to Mike.
“Did you tell him?”

“Don’t look at me,”
Mike said, holding his hands up defensively. “I’ve been with you the whole
time.”

She turned back to
Bradley. “Bradley, listen—” she began.

“The department
called me once they ran the plates and discovered whose car it was,” he
interrupted with a smile. “They called to apologize. They said they had
detained you, so it was entirely their fault you were late in moving your car.”

She breathed a sigh
of relief. “Well, I’m glad they admitted they were at fault.”

He nodded. “I also
had a very interesting conversation with Chelsea Chase,” he continued. “She
apologized for interrogating and nearly arresting my wife.”

Mary bit her lower
lip. “Well, that was nice of her,” she muttered.

“And when were you
going to tell me that you had been held at gunpoint at a police station?” he
asked.

Her heart dropped a
little. She was really hoping she could have kept that incident a secret.
“Quite honestly, I was sort of hoping it would never come up in the
conversation,” she replied.

“Mary, I worry—”

She lifted her hand
and placed it over his mouth. “You don’t need to worry,” she said. “If I hadn’t
been able to handle it, you would have been the first person I called. I
promise.”

He kissed her hand,
and she dropped it. “Promise?” he asked.

“Promise,” she
replied.

Mike winked at her.
“Sure you would,” he whispered.

“
Shhhh
,” Mary replied over her shoulder. “You’re going to
get me in trouble.”

Bradley looked back
and forth between Mary and Mike. “What are you two up to now?” he asked.

Mike shook his
head. “Nothing, Chief,” he said with a smile. “I’m just heading back to
Freeport. Have a great time in Dubuque.”

As Mike faded away,
Bradley offered his arm to Mary. “Let’s take the cruiser,” he suggested. “I think
you’ve freaked out the whole Galena Police Department enough that you are never
going to get a ticket here again.”

“Bonus!” she
replied.

The ride to Dubuque
only took about twenty minutes from Galena. Once they were on the four-lane
bridge over the Mississippi River, Mary had a clear view of the prosperous
river town. A huge three-story steamboat was moored off the bank of the river
in the distance. And like its predecessors that used to roam the great river a
hundred years ago, it housed a casino. Another smaller steamboat was anchored
farther west in a small inlet amidst a collection of red-bricked buildings and
industrial docks waiting for the next barge to be unloaded and sent back on its
way.

From the river, the
city rose onto a bluff, and from her vantage point on the bridge, Mary could
see the 190-foot tower of the Dubuque County Courthouse with its
fourteen-foot-tall, bronzed Lady Justice at its pinnacle. The downtown, with
its collection of historic and modern buildings, lay at its feet, and the
grand, residential palaces of yesteryear dotted the hillside with their varied
and unique architecture.

Once across the
river, Bradley stayed on Highway 20 through the city until he reached its far
western borders. He turned right on JFK Boulevard into an area that quickly
changed from a collection of malls to one of residential neighborhoods. It took
only ten minutes to reach the small, brick bungalow on Kimberly Avenue whose
address matched their information. Bradley drove past the house and parked
farther down the street.

“So, how do you
want to handle this?” Mary asked.

“I think if we
present it as an official investigation we’ll probably get more cooperation,”
Bradley said. “So, how about if I take lead?”

“I agree,” she
said. “I’ll introduce myself as an investigator working on the case.”

They left the car
and walked up the street to the house. The backyard was visible from the front
sidewalk, and Mary could see that it was littered with toys and playground
equipment.

“They have
children,” she said. “I wonder if they are younger or older than Liza.”

Soon after they
knocked on the door, a pleasant looking woman answered the door. Her smile
froze when she saw Bradley’s uniform.

“Mrs. Larson?”
Bradley asked.
“Mrs. Lorraine Larson?”

 
“Is everything okay?” she asked abruptly, her
voice filled with fear.

“Yes, ma’am,”
Bradley replied professionally, offering her his identification. “I’m Police
Chief Bradley Alden from the Freeport Police Department. We are here about an
investigation regarding a child who used to live in this household.”

Mary was surprised
by Bradley’s cold demeanor, but she took his lead. “May we come in and ask you
a few questions?” she asked.

The woman stepped
back and opened her door wider. “Yes, of course,” she stammered.

“Is your husband
home?” Bradley asked.

“Yes, he is,” she
said. “Please have a seat. I’ll go get him.”

Bradley and Mary
entered a small living room with worn but comfortable furniture. There was a
white brick fireplace with a mantle in the middle of one wall. On the top of
the mantle was a collection of family photos. Most of the photos featured a
smiling set of twin boys with their parents, but one photo, obviously taken
years ago, added a dainty little girl to the family. Bradley picked up the photo
and showed it to Mary. “Was this Liza?” he asked.

Mary nodded. “She’s
a little older now,” she said quietly, “but, yes, that’s her.”

His jaw tightened,
and he put the photo back in place.

“They must still
have feelings for her,” Mary suggested, “or they wouldn’t have a picture of her
on their mantle.”

He shook his head.
“We’ll see,” he said.

He turned sharply
when he heard footsteps in the hall. Lorraine and her husband hurried into the
room.

“This is my
husband, Mark,” Lorraine said. “Mark, this is Chief Alden and…”

Mary stepped
forward and offered her hand to Mark. “I’m Mary O’Reilly, a private
investigator working on this case with Chief Alden.”

“Good to meet you,”
Mark said cordially. “How can we help you?”

“Are your children
home?” Bradley asked.

“Yes, they’re down
in the playroom,” Lorraine replied.

Bradley nodded. “We
won’t take too much of your time,” he said. “Is there a place where we can talk
so your children will not overhear our conversation?”

Lorraine nodded
slowly. “Yes,” she said. “Come into the dining room.”

Once seated around
the table, Bradley pulled out the report he had received from the county. “We
are looking into the whereabouts of Liza Parker,” he said. “We understand you
adopted her in 2009.”

Lorraine reached
over, took hold of her husband’s hand and took a deep breath. “We…we don’t have
her anymore,” she said.

“I’m sorry,”
Bradley said. “You don’t have her anymore? But you did legally adopt her,
didn’t you?”

Mark nodded. “Yes,
of course we did,” he said. “But she’s not with us any longer.”

“Did she pass away
when she was in your care?” he asked.
“Because the county has
no record of a death certificate.”

“Oh, no, nothing
like
that,” Lorraine said. “I got sick.
Cancer.
Just after we adopted her.
The doctor said that I
needed to simplify my life, so we found another family who wanted to adopt
Liza.”

“And what
governmental or legal agencies did you work with in order to proceed with that
adoption?” Bradley asked.

Mark cleared his
throat. “Well, actually, we needed to move quicker than that, so we went with
another avenue.”

“Another
avenue?”
Bradley asked, his voice clipped.

“Well, yes,”
Lorraine said. “A friend told us about an adoption website where you could
re-home an adopted child.”

“Re-home?” Bradley
asked. “And exactly how do you do that?”

“You place an ad
about your child on this forum, and families looking for children contact you,”
Lorraine said. “Then you meet with them, and they sign a paper consenting to be
her legal guardian.”

“And that’s all?”
Bradley asked. “Did you do a background check on these people?”

“Of course,” Mark
said. “We paid for a background check, and it came out just fine. We wouldn’t
just give Liza away to anyone.”

“Do you still have
a copy of that background check?” he asked.

Lorraine nodded.
“Yes, I have it in my file cabinet,” she said. “We wanted to keep it so some
time in the future we could possibly go and visit her again.”

“Could you please
get that for me?” Bradley asked.

Lorraine stood and
hurried out of the room.

“How is your wife
doing now?” Mary asked.

Mark smiled. “Her
cancer is in remission,” he said. “She’s been fine for about a year and a half
now.”

“That’s wonderful,”
Mary said. “So Liza was given up for adoption how many years ago?”

“About three years
ago,” Mark said.
“When we first learned about the cancer.”

“And your other
children,” Bradley asked. “Your twin boys, what did you do with them?”

Surprised, Mark
shook his head. “Well, we kept them, of course,” he said. “They are our
children.”

“And Liza wasn’t
your child?” Bradley asked.

“Well, yes,” Mark
began. “But, you know, we had just adopted her. She wasn’t attached to us yet.
We thought it was in her best interest…”

His voice trailed
off when Lorraine came into the room.

“I made a copy of
the papers,” she said eagerly. “You can keep this copy.”

Bradley reached
over and took the papers from her, scanning them quickly. He looked up and met
her eyes. “Thank you for your help,” he said, standing up and moving towards
the door.

Mary quickly stood
and followed him.

“Is Liza okay?”
Lorraine asked, rushing after him to the door. “Is she missing?”

Bradley stopped,
slowly turned around and faced the parents.

“Bradley,” Mary
warned. “Don’t.”

“Liza is dead,”
Bradley said, ignoring Mary’s request. “She was brutally murdered.”

Lorraine collapsed
against her husband. “No,” she sobbed, her voice rising to a cry. “No, that
can’t be true.”