Secret Hollows (20 page)

He shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

She leaned over to Ian. “Thanks for coming for me.”

“Ah, darling, anytime you need a lift, you know who to call,” he said with a wink.

Bradley ran up to them, pulled Mary into his arms and just held her. “When I heard the 911 call and knew you were in the house…” he said, his voice shaken. “I thought…I thought…”

“Aye, Bradley, we’re all fine, thanks for asking,” Ian said.

“Yeah, I’m dead, but I’m good too,” Mike added.

Mary giggled into his chest and he held her even tighter. “You’re okay then?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.

She nodded. “Yeah, thanks to these two, I’m fine. It’s weird that a fire would start on the very day we’re searching the house.”

“Well, not so weird when the basement door’s propped open and there are footprints in the snow from the road,” Ian said.

“Where?”
Bradley demanded, stepping away from Mary. “Where are the footprints?”

Ian shook his head. “By the time the firefighters have hosed this place down; you’ll not be able to isolate anything, much less a footprint. I’m afraid this investigation has reached another dead end.”

“Funny thing about dead ends around here,” Mary said, reaching into her coat and pulling out the bag and envelopes. “They have a funny way of reappearing.”

“Who the hell are you people and what are you doing on this property?”

“Well, if it isn’t Uncle Chuck,” Mike said. “This ought to be interesting.”

Bradley turned and stepped forward, hiding Mary behind him so she could return the evidence back to its hiding place. He took a good look at Lena Police Chief Chuck Richards. He was tall, well over six feet, and big-boned. He could have been a professional football player. His hair was fashioned in a crew cut and his eyes were cold and hard. His uniform jacket was stretched over a large abdomen and his breath was coming out in short puffs; this was a man who was not in shape.

“I’m Chief Alden, from Freeport,” Bradley said, extending his hand.
“Just continuing my investigation.”

Chuck pointedly placed his hands on his hips, not accepting Bradley’s handshake. “And you realize you’re trespassing on private property and breaking and entering, another offense,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind spending a little time in the Lena jail.”

Mary scooted around Bradley. “Hi, we haven’t been introduced,” she said. “I’m Mary O’Reilly, a private investigator, and I represent Emil Forrest. I believe you will find
,
if you check your records, Emil still owns this property and he not only gave me permission to search it, but also gave me access to the key. There was no breaking and entering involved.”

“Boo-yah,” Mike said. “You tell him Mary.”

“Did he also give you permission to burn it to the ground?” he asked.

“Actually, we were wondering the same thing about your department,” Ian said, strolling up to be part of the conversation. “Hello, I’m Professor Ian MacDougal, a consultant with the City of Chicago Police Department. I was, let’s just say, disappointed, with the lack of security given this home, especially since you
were
notified there was an ongoing investigation. One would think you would have been much more…prudent to safeguard the dwelling of the main suspect in the case.”

“Ouch,” Mike said. “That one had to hurt.”

“No one told me you’d be searching the house,” Chuck argued.

“Oh, we thought your contact at the prison would have given you full details,” Mary replied innocently.

“How’d you know…
”

“He walked right into that one,” Mike said.
“Very good fishing expedition, Mary.”

“I think it would be best for our departments to cooperate in this matter,” Bradley said. “Don’t you?”

“What do you need?” he snarled.

“Wow, he’s not a happy camper,” Mike whispered.

Mary bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

“We’d like to see the original case files and we’d like to know who else was suspected in the murder of the boys,” Bradley replied. “We can either borrow the files, or make copies of them and you can keep the originals.”

“Well, it’s
gonna
take a couple of days…”

Bradley shook his head. “No, I’m sorry; we believe this fire was arson, as I’m sure your fire chief will eventually testify. So, this has moved up to top priority. I’ll just follow you over to your station and get the files.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Tell him that if he doesn’t cooperate you’ll call the mayor,” Mike suggested. “He hates the mayor and, fortunately, the mayor feels the same way about him.”

“I’ve already told you who I am and what I need you to do. But, if you feel you can’t rearrange your schedule to expedite the needs of an ongoing investigation, I’ll be happy to call your mayor and see if he can help you set priorities,” Bradley said with a shrug.

“Who’s the mayor,” Ian whispered to Mike.

“My dad,” Mike said. “It’s a part-time thing; he’s actually a full-time farmer.”

“You don’t know the mayor,” Chuck pushed back.

“Allen and Alice,” Mike supplied.

“Allen, Allen Richards?” Bradley asked. “He’s still mayor isn’t he?”

Chuck nodded. “Yeah, he is, but he never mentioned you.”

Bradley lifted one eyebrow. “Does your brother tell you about everyone he’s met? Somehow I got the feeling the two of you didn’t …communicate as much as you used to.”

“
You trying
to push me around?” Chuck asked, moving into Bradley’s space.

Bradley stood his ground. “No, I’m trying to solve a murder investigation,” he said. “I just want to do my job. It would be…helpful if we could work together.”

Chuck glared at Mary and Ian. “Can you do this alone or do you have to bring Daphne and Shaggy with you?”

“I’ll meet you at your office in fifteen minutes,” Bradley replied. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Chuck turned around and stormed across the field towards the firefighters.

Mike snorted. “That was pretty good.
Gotta
give that one to Uncle Chuck.”

“I’m Shaggy?” Ian protested. “He called me Shaggy. Isn’t that the unkempt one who was always eating?”

Mary nodded. “Yes, but the dog loved him.”

Bradley put his hands on Mary’s shoulders and turned her towards him. “I want you to go to the hospital and let them check you over.”

She smiled up at him. “I know you do,” she said, and then shook her head. “But there’s no way. I’m bumped, bruised and scratched. I can handle all of those things at home with my trusty first-aid kit.”

Mary put her hand on Bradley’s arm. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

He nodded and sighed, “You’d better be.”

He leaned over and kissed her on her forehead. “And take a shower, you smell like a barbeque.”

“That was fairly rude,” she said with a grin. “But a shower sounds delightful.”

Turning back to Mike and Ian, Bradley paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “Thank you just doesn’t seem to be enough to say,” he said. “I don’t know all the details yet, but if it weren’t for you…”

“Well, then, your first born should be named Ian, of course,” Ian said.

“Mike,” Mike interrupted. “Your first born has to be named Mike.”

“Aye, Ian Michael,” Ian interjected.

“Michael Ian,” Mike argued.

“We’re only having girls,” Mary interjected.

“Aye?
And the problem is?” Ian asked with a smile.

“Yeah, there are girls named Michael now,” Mike said.

Mary turned to Bradley and joked, “You just had to be grateful, didn’t you?”

But Bradley didn’t smile. “I don’t know what our children will be named, but they will have the best uncles in this world or the next,” he said, looking at each of the men. “Thank you.”

“He really knows how to take the fun out of a conversation,” Mike replied, and then he nodded. “I’d be honored to be an uncle to your kids. I always wanted a brother.”

“I’m fair overcome,” Ian said softly. “Aye, tis brothers we are now.”

Mary wiped a stray tear from her cheek as she studied the three men who had come to mean so much to her and who, she realized, her life would never be the same without.

Bradley pulled his cruiser up in front of the police station. He exited the vehicle and Mike glided along next to him.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Bradley said softly to Mike. “I know he’s your uncle.”

Mike shrugged. “It’s always a good idea to have someone at your back,” Mike said, “no matter where you go.”

They entered the small building and went to the receptionist at the front desk. “Hello, Officer…” Bradley said.

She giggled. “Oh, I’m not an officer,” she admitted. “I’m the receptionist. They don’t even let me have a gun.”

The young woman was dressed in blue uniform shirt that was unbuttoned low enough to display her ample bosom.

“Well, I’m Chief Alden, from Freeport,” he said. “I believe the Chief is expecting me.”

She shrugged and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, Chief Alden; he was called out unexpectedly and doesn’t know when he’ll be returning,” she replied, as if she were repeating a written script. “He said he’d call you in a few days with the information you needed.”

“Why don’t I just take a look around the back room,” Mike suggested, slipping through the wall and into the main part of the station.

Bradley nodded at Mike, leaned on the desk and smiled at the young woman. “Well, I must have misunderstood him when we spoke a few minutes ago,” he said.
“Probably all the confusion at the fire.
Would you mind if I write him a note with some more information he might find handy?”

The woman smiled back. “Oh, no, no problem at all,” she said. “I’ll be sure he gets it. I’ll see to it personally.”

“Well, I am in awe of his well-trained and personable staff,” Bradley said, sending the woman a little wink. “Um, do you have piece of paper and pen I could use?”

She sighed and then shook herself, “Oh, oh, sorry,” she stammered. “Of course, let me get that for you.”

She left her chair and Mike appeared next to him. “Pouring it on a bit thick, aren’t you?” Mike asked.

“Hell if I know,” Bradley whispered. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I was trying to channel Ian.”

Mike chuckled. “Well, too bad you can’t channel me because Uncle Chuck is hiding back in his office, surfing the Internet.”

Bradley looked through the bullet-proof glass window next to the desk to the offices in the back of the building. “Anything you can do to get him to leave his office?” he asked Mike.

A wicked grin spread across Mike’s face. “Take your time writing your note, Chief,” he said. “I’ll have him exiting the building in no time.”

Mike faded away and the receptionist came back with a paper and pencil. “Here you are,” she said.

Bradley smiled at her again. “I feel a little awkward asking this, but have we met before? You look so familiar. Or maybe,” he began and then stopped and stared at her. “Have you done professional modeling before?”

She turned a lovely shade of pink and shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I was the Holstein Queen in last year’s Dairy Days Parade.”

Bradley’s smiled widened. “That must have been where I saw you.”

Mike reappeared in his uncle’s office. The room was large and filled with nice furniture, compared to the metal desks and chairs throughout the rest of the station. Chuck had his leather office chair reclined backwards, as he casually flipped through the internet on his laptop and sipped on a cup of coffee. The office walls were covered with photos and framed articles about Chuck’s various accomplishments in town.
Sheesh, no wonder Dad couldn’t stand him.

Mike glided over to the wall facing the desk. “So, Uncle Chuck,” he said, as he tilted a photo, so it hung at an angle on the wall. “Are you still OCD?”

He moved further down the wall, and switched a few more. “Used to drive you crazy when things were out of whack,” he continued. “I remember moving around your model car collection, just enough to set you on edge. Yep, those were the good old days.”