Darkness Exposed (6 page)
Mary leaned back, letting the warmth of the fire heat her back, and studied Ian for a moment.
“So, Mary, you have a look in your eye that seems a bit dangerous,” Ian said. “What is on the mind of Mary O’Reilly?”
She chuckled and nodded. “I’m wondering how much adventure you were looking for when you signed on to this fellowship?”
“Ahh, I see,” Ian said. “You thought perhaps I was interested in reading your wee diaries, sipping on tea and chewing a scone in my study, eh? And here, you offer me a chance to work with a ghost, solve a murder and apprehend a serial killer? Aye, I’ll leave the scones and sign up for the adventure. Tell me what you’d have me do.”
“You’re a good man, Ian MacDougal,” Mary said. “And perhaps we can throw in some scones on the way. Bradley, I have an idea. But, I want you to listen to me before you make a decision.”
“That doesn’t sound like a promising beginning,” Bradley said, then he sighed. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“First, do you know who owns your old house?” Mary asked.
Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he said. “I never sold it. I always thought that if Jeannine decided to come back, she’d want to…”
His voice broke and he looked down at the floor.
Jeannine turned and looked up at him. “That was lovely,” she said. “I always loved that house. Thank you for saving it for me.”
He nodded, but didn’t trust his voice yet.
“Okay, well, that makes this plan even easier,” Mary said. “First, hypnosis always works better in familiar surroundings, so not only would it be better for Jeannine to be there for the hypnosis, something else around the house might trigger other memories. We also know that whoever did this was either a neighbor or a friend, someone Jeannine would let into her home, right?”
Mary looked around the room, ensuring everyone was on the same page, because the next part was going to be the hard one to get agreement on.
“We also know that some of the neighbors were hesitant to say anything to Bradley because they believed that Jeannine was having an affair.”
“Which was completely untrue,” Jeannine inserted.
Mary nodded. “Yes, completely untrue,” she agreed. “But somehow the rumor got started and because of it, Bradley didn’t get the information he needed to find Jeannine. So, it would be interesting to find out how those rumors got started and who the neighbors thought the mystery man was. The information they held closely eight years ago might be the very thing to unlock the mystery today.”
“But why would they talk to me now?” Bradley asked.
“They probably won’t,” Mary said. “Because they either believe that Jeannine ran away with the other man, or they feel guilty they didn’t tell you the truth in the first place.”
“So what good is my house?”
“Well, the nice thing about friendly neighbors is that they are usually all too willing to share tidbits of new information with new move-ins,” Mary said and then took a deep breath before blurting out the next sentence. “Ian and I will pose as a couple renting your place. I’m sure just the fact that your house is occupied again will cause a stir in the neighborhood.”
Bradley stood up. “Are you crazy?” he asked. “Do you think I’m going to let you become fresh bait for a killer?”
Mary stood too and faced Bradley from across the room. She kept her voice calm and low. “No, I think you will treat me like the professional law enforcement officer you know I am,” she said, “And that you will have confidence in my abilities to investigate a murder and interrogate witnesses.”
“And Ian?” Bradley asked. “Why is Ian the choice for your partner?”
“Because, quite frankly, you’d scare everyone away,” she replied. “And because Ian can not only hypnotize Jeannine, he can also see ghosts. So, if this friendly neighbor is also a serial killer, Ian can help me locate any other lost souls.”
Bradley ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t like this,” he said. “I don’t like this one damn bit.”
“I know,” Mary said. “I know it’s going to be hard for you, because you’re going to have to be the behind-the-scenes person. And you’re going to have to trust me.”
He froze in his steps, then turned and met her eyes. “This has nothing to do with trust.”
She met his eyes, unblinking. “This has everything to do with trust.”
“May I just interject here?” Ian asked, breaking the tension in the room.
Bradley turned his glare on Ian. “What?”
“Although I don’t have the years of experience you have in law enforcement, I have trained with Scotland Yard and I’m quite proficient in martial arts,” he explained.
“How proficient?” Bradley asked.
“Sandan Black Belt,” Ian responded.
“Third level, black belt,” Bradley said, nodding with approval. “So, you’re about as good as Mary.”
Ian’s eyes widened. “Well, it looks like I’ll not have to worry about my safety either,” he said with a grin.
Bradley cleared his throat. “Back to the matter at hand. Mary, how soon would you want to start?”
“How soon can you have the house ready for occupation?” she asked.
“Give me a day to make arrangements. How about Tuesday?”
“Okay, let’s start Tuesday, if that’s fine with you, Ian.”
“Aye, I’m game,” he said. “I’ve some gear that was going to be shipped here, if you’ll give me the address, I’ll have it shipped there.”
Jeannine smiled. “This sounds like it’s going to work.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, Jeannine, I think it will.”
Chapter Nine
“Why in tarnation was I asked to get here at the butt crack of dawn, when no one seems to care if I’m here or not?” Stanley Wagner asked, standing in the front doorway of Mary’s house Tuesday morning.
“Stanley, you’re letting all of Mary’s heat out,” Rosie Pettigrew said. “Do come in and shut the door behind you.”
Stanley grumbled to himself and moved inside, closing the door with a bang. “There, are you happy now?”
Rosie smiled sweetly. “Why, yes I am Stanley, thank you for asking.”
Stanley rolled his eyes and walked through the living room and stood alongside the staircase. “Mary, you come down and explain yourself,” he called up the stairs.
Stanley Wagner was the fifth generation owner of Wagner Office Supplies in downtown Freeport. And although the sixth generation was now running the store, Stanley still arrived early every day to greet the customers and make sure his children, now in their forties and fifties, were doing an acceptable job. He and Mary had become good friends when she moved to Freeport and now he considered her to be his responsibility, no matter what she said to the contrary.
“Stanley?” Mary called. “Is that you?”
“Darn tootin’ it’s me, missy,” he said, pulling up on the waistband of his trousers. “And let me tell you, you’ve got some explaining to do.”
“Now Stanley,” Rosie said, moving around him to stand at the base of the stairs. “Mary is a grown woman; she doesn’t really have to explain her actions to anyone.”
Rosie Pettigrew was a successful real estate broker in her early sixties who also worked in downtown Freeport. She had been through about as many husbands as careers, and had been enjoying a flirty single life until just recently. Somehow Stanley’s curmudgeonly personality snuck its way into her heart and her silly, prattling ways had done the same to his. But they were both desperately trying to ignore their new feelings, for fear if they acted on them they would destroy the friendship they both cherished.
Just then Ian jogged down the stairs, his arms filled with several suitcases. “Do you ken why women need ten times more clothes then men for the same time away?” he asked Stanley and Rosie.
Rosie looked at Ian and sighed. “And sometimes it’s completely obvious why a woman would choose to do some things.”
Stanley scooted around Rosie to block Ian’s way. “And where do you think you’re taking those suitcases?” he asked, his hands on his hips.
Ian stopped in his tracks and tilted his head in confusion. “Why to the boot of the car,” he said. “The rental car, not the Roadster. I understand I’d be taking me own life in me hands to let her drive.”
“I heard that,” Mary called down the stairs.
“Auch, now you’ve done it,” Ian said with a grin. “Here we are not married for more than a day and I’m already in the dog house.”
“You’re married?” Rosie gasped.
“Why would I be carrying her suitcases out of the house if we weren’t?” he replied
“Young lady, you come down these stairs now,” Stanley called. “Or I’m coming up after you.”
Mary quickly jogged down the stairs, a pair of shoes in each hand. “Rosie, if you can only bring a few pairs of shoes, because some people from foreign countries who shall remain nameless, don’t understand fashion, which would you choose? Heels or flats?”
“Well, darling, flats are more convenient, but heels are sexier,” Rosie replied.
“She’s bringing flats,” Bradley called from the open front door.
Mary smiled. “Guess that answers that,” she said. “I’m bringing heels.”
“Would someone mind telling me what’s going on and why I was asked to come here?” Stanley shouted above the clamor.
Mary paused on her way back up the stairs. “Oh, you were asked to come by?” she asked.
Rosie nodded. “Yes, Bradley called us up last night and asked us to come by this morning,” she said. “Mary, I had no idea you had gotten married. I would have thought that you would have at least invited us to the ceremony.”
Mary looked over their heads at Bradley who was standing behind them. “Would you care to explain to them?” she asked. “Since you did invite them to come over.”
Bradley tugged at his collar for a moment and then looked at the two senior citizens. “Well, Mary and Ian are not really married,” he said. “They are posing as a married couple to help me investigate a crime.”
“Oh, well then,” Rosie said. “I understand why we weren’t invited. That’s quite alright, Mary dear. I’m sure there’s different etiquette involved when the weddings aren’t real.”
“There was no wedding,” Stanley explained. “This is all pretend. It’s a farce.”
Rosie looked over at Ian and then back at Mary. “Really, this is all pretend?” she asked.
“We’re just playing house,” Ian said with a wink.
Rosie giggled. “If I were Mary, I think I’d prefer playing Post Office with you.”
Ian looked confused and Mary laughed. “It’s an American kissing game,” she explained.
“Ah, we call it Spin the Bottle,” he said.
“Oh, we play that game too,” Rosie said.
“And how many different kissing games do you play here in the States?” Ian asked.
“Could we just get back to the business at hand?” Bradley asked.
“Of course, dear,” Rosie said. “Ian, I can tell you about more kissing games later.”
Bradley groaned. “The reason I asked Rosie and Stanley to come over is because I want them to aid in this investigation,” Bradley announced. “I want them to go undercover with you.”
There was a moment of silence and then the room was filled with an uproar of conversation.
“Really, dear, I don’t think both Mary and I could both be married to Ian,” Rosie said. “I think that’s against the law.”
“Rosie can’t go undercover,” Stanley shouted. “It’s too dangerous. What are you thinking Alden?”
“Statistically speaking, the more people you bring in, the more likely the cover will be blown,” Ian said.
“Well, I don’t give a damn about statistics,” Stanley countered. “I know that I can keep a secret.”
“Oh, begging your pardon,” Ian replied. “I didn’t mean you couldn’t.”
Mary leaned against the railing and ignored the noise; she looked directly at Bradley, a question in her eyes. He shrugged a little sheepishly and shook his head. She tossed her head, indicating behind her, turned and quietly walked back up the stairs to her bedroom. A moment later Bradley joined her, closing the door and shutting out the noise from downstairs.
Mary turned, folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the wall. “Well?”
He sighed. “I thought if Rosie and Stanley poised as your visiting grandparents it would be safer.”
“You weren’t worried about Ian and me sharing the house?”
He shook his head, his eyes widening in understanding. “Oh, well, of course you would have thought that,” he said. “I haven’t been exactly trusting lately, have I?”
Mary nodded slightly, not saying a word.
He moved towards her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “No, I’m not worried about you and Ian. I’m worried about you. Mary, I…”
He stopped and turned his head to the side for a moment.
Mary could see he was struggling to control his emotions.