Final Call (16 page)

Chapter Thirty-three

It was seven o’clock the next
morning and Mary parked her car down the street from Hezekiah’s home.

“Okay you remember what you’re
supposed to do,” she asked Mike who was sitting beside her.

“Well, let’s see, you’ve only
repeated the instructions four times in ten minutes,” he said. “So, maybe you
ought to tell me one more time just in case.”

She nodded, clearly distracted.
“Okay, I’ll go up to the house...”

“Mary, I was being sarcastic,” he
said.

“Oh,” she said with an apologetic
glance at him. “Sorry.”

She slipped an envelope into her
coat pocket and carefully stole up the street. Following his directions, she
snuck to the side door of Hezekiah’s home and tapped lightly. The door opened a
crack and a beautiful little girl with dark brown eyes and a wide smile looked
at her. “My daddy said you’d be coming,” she said. “I’m Rachael.”

“Hi Rachael, I’m Mary and this is
my friend, Mike,” she said. “Can you see Mike, just like you can see your
daddy?”

Rachael poked her head out the door
and peered behind Mary. She smiled and nodded. “Yes, I can see him,” she
giggled. “He’s cute.”

Mary chuckled. “
Shhhhh
,
if you tell him that, there’s no living with him.”

The little girl giggled again.

Mary took the card out of her
pocket and handed it to Rachael. “Okay, here’s the card,” she said. “You and
Mike do your job and I’ll wait a few minutes and then knock on the front door.
Okay?”

Rachael nodded eagerly. “And I’m
not
s’posed
to know you, right?”

“Exactly right,” Mary said.

“Okay,” she said, shutting the door
on their faces.

“Good thing I can walk through
walls,” Mike teased and followed Rachael into the house.

Mary moved quietly back down the
side of the house and hid in the shadow of the house for a few minutes. Finally,
when she felt she had given them enough time to accomplish their job, she
walked up to the front door and rang the bell. She could hear rustling noises
inside the house as she waited for the door to open. A lovely African-American
woman with large, soft eyes and caramel-colored skin answered the door. “May I
help you,” she asked in a quiet, calm tone.

Mary smiled. “Hello, I’m Mary
O’Reilly and I’m a friend of Hezekiah,” she said.

Lucinda’s eyes saddened. “I’m
sorry, perhaps you hadn’t heard. My husband passed away recently, we just had
his funeral yesterday.”

Mary nodded. “Yes, I knew the
funeral was yesterday, I’m sorry I was unable to come,” she replied. “But I
wondered if you would allow me to come in and visit with you for a few
minutes.”

Lucinda hesitated. “I really hate
to be rude,” she said. “But we are very busy today. We are in the midst of
packing up our belongings.”

“You asked God for a sign last
night,” Mary said. “Don’t you want to take the time to hear it?”

Eyes wide with shock, Lucinda
stepped back from the door, opening it wide. “How did you know...?”

“I’d love to tell you. May I come
in?”

Mutely, she nodded and led Mary
into the front room. Mary followed her to the couch, sitting down and facing
her. “I am going to tell you something about myself that many people can’t
accept,” Mary said. “But if you can just keep an open mind, it will make the
rest of what I’m going to say so much easier.”

Lucinda nodded.

“Several years ago, when I served
as a cop in Chicago I was caught in a cross-fire and I got shot. The doctors
did the best they could, but I died on the operating table.”

She met Lucinda’s wide stare. “No,
I’m not a ghost or an angel,” she said with a chuckle. “I got a choice on my
way to Heaven. I could continue, or I could go back, but my life would be
changed. I’d have a different mission.”

“So, you came back,” Lucinda
finished.

Mary nodded. “And my new gift was
that I can communicate with spirits, some people call them ghosts. I can help
those who have unfinished business to settle before they can move from this
world onto the next.”

“I have no trouble believing that,”
she said. “If we believe in angels, why wouldn’t we believe in other spirits?”

“Thank you for having an open
mind,” she said. “I met your husband last Saturday night.”

“But that’s impossible, he died...”
She stopped. “You met his ghost?”

“Yes, I met his ghost,” she said.
“He discovered that he had some unfinished business to take care of before he
could move on.”

Lucinda shook her head in wonder.
“Rachael said she’d seen him.”

Smiling, Mary nodded. “Yes, he
mentioned that Rachael could see him,” she said. “He was a little disconcerted
about that, seeing that he didn’t believe in ghosts himself.”

Lucinda laughed. “I can see that
could have posed a problem to him.”

“I have a message from him to you,”
Mary said. “He wanted you to go to the bookshelf and take out the big Bible; he
said you would know which one.”

“Excuse me for a moment, it’s in
the study,” she said and left the room.

She came back carrying a large
leather bound Bible. No wonder Hezekiah said Rachael would need help. Lucinda
placed it on the coffee table before them.

“He wanted you to turn to 1
Corinthians, Chapter 13,” Mary said. “There is a message there for you.”

Lucinda turned the pages and found
the chapter.

“He said there would be a section
highlighted and he wanted you to read it,” she said, praying Mike and Rachael
had been able to accomplish the task.

Lucinda began to read the passage, “Though
I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am
become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of
prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have
all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am
nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give
my body to be burned, and have not charity, it
profiteth
me nothing. Charity
suffereth
long and is kind,
charity
envieth
not; charity
vaunteth
not itself, is not puffed up.
Beareth
all things,
believeth all things,
hopeth
all things,
endureth
all things. Charity never
faileth
.”

She looked up and Mary could see the questions in her eyes.
“He also left you a note,” she said, “in the front of the Bible.”

Lucinda turned to the front and found the envelope Mary had
given Rachael that morning. It had taken Mary half the night to learn how to
replicate his handwriting and the other half was spent on Hezekiah deciding
what he wanted to say.

Lucinda opened it and read the letter.

My dearest Lucinda,

Throughout our marriage and our
partnership as we worked together for the Lord, I have been the sounding brass
and the tinkling cymbal and you have been the angel of charity. In everything
you do, in everything you say, the true love of Christ is exemplified in every
action. I realize now that I was so caught up in my own pride, in my own
desires, that I neglected the real needs of my congregation, my children and,
most importantly, my wife.

I want you to know that I
respect you, admire you and pray that our children will follow your example.
But most of all, I want you to know that I love you. You have been the iron
rod, the steadying force in our relationship. You have been ever selfless, ever
supportive and ever patient. I don’t know why God decided to give me an angel
as a wife, but I will be grateful to him for eternity.

Lucinda, please pick up the
standard that I foolishly let fall because of my own ego. Please take care of
these good people. They need you.

Yours forever,
 

Hezekiah

She placed a hand over her mouth to
stem the emotion. “He wrote this?” she asked.

“Yes,” Mary replied. “He wanted to
let you know how much you meant to him and to apologize for not taking the time
in this life to be sure you knew.”

She wiped a tear away. “He really
loved me?”

“He loved you so much, that he
stayed here until he could tell you.”

“He’s here?
In
our home?”

“Mommy, Daddy wants to know if he
can come in and see you,” Rachael said, rushing into the room.

Hezekiah stood in the hall peering
into the room.

“Hezekiah, are you really here?”
she asked.

The large man moved forward and knelt
at his wife’s feet. Lucinda turned to Mary. “I think I can feel his presence,”
she said. “It feels warm.”

“He’s almost ready to go,” Mary
said.

“I love you, my sweet Lucinda,” he
said. “And I love our family.”

“Daddy says he loves you, Momma,”
Rachael said. “He says he loves us too. He looks so sad.”

“He’s only sad because he’s going
to miss you while he waits for you to all be together in Heaven someday,” Mary
said.

“I love you, Hezekiah,” Lucinda
whispered. “And thank you for letting me know you love me.”

She placed her hand on her heart.
“It’s what I needed to hear.”

He stood and bent over, placing a
kiss on her cheek. She lifted her hand to her cheek and rubbed it softly.
“Thank you, dearest.”

Rachael ran over to her mother.
“Kiss me too, Daddy,” she said.

Hezekiah bent over and kissed her
forehead. “I love you, Daddy,” she said.

He turned to Mary, tears flowing
freely down his cheeks. “Thank you, young lady,” he said. “You saved my
family.”

Mary shook her head. “No, you saved
your family,” she said. “I only helped a little along the way.
God Speed, Hezekiah.”

He smiled at her. “God bless you,
Mary O’Reilly.”

Then he faded into the light.

Chapter Thirty-four

“Well that was a great way to start
a day,” Mike said, as they walked back to the car. “And it’s not even eight
o’clock yet.”

Mary grinned at him. “Yeah, that
was nice, wasn’t it?”

“Kind of reinforces your belief in
love, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,”
Mary replied. “Love works for some people and for others it’s just not meant to
be.”

“Whoa, Mary O’Reilly is becoming
cynical and bitter,” he said. “I think you’ve been spending too much time with
Faye McMullen.”

Mary got in the car and started it
up. “I don’t think I’m quite that bad.”

“Not yet,” he said, appearing in
the passenger seat next to her. “Why don’t you just run away with me to a
deserted tropical island? I would spend my days worshipping you.”

She turned and smiled at him.
“Well, you are cute,” she said. “All the ten-year-old girls think so.”

“I’ve often felt that ten-year-olds
have discriminating tastes in men,” he said.

“Well, I’m tempted, really,” she
said. “But, it’s kind of hard to kiss a ghost.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Not if I
come to you in your dreams,” he said.

She stopped at the corner and
turned to him. “Really?” she said.
“In my dreams?”

She put the car in gear and headed
to Galena Street.

“Yep, in your dreams,” he said. “I
could fulfill your greatest fantasies.”

“Really,” she said.
“My greatest fantasies?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “You could
have whatever you’d like.”

She thought about it for a while,
as she drove down Galena towards the downtown. “Anything?” she asked.

“Anything, Mary, you just name it,”
he whispered seductively.

“A pony,” she said. “I always
wanted a pony.”

“A what?!” he exclaimed.

“A pony.
I
always dreamt of having a pony.”

“Mary, these are supposed to be
‘adult’ fantasies,” he said, using his hands to create quotation marks.

“Oh,” she said, emphasizing the
word.
“Adult fantasies.
Now I understand.”

He sat back against the seat in the
car. “Good.
Finally.”

“In that case, I want a horse,
because really, a pony would be much too small to ride.”

He turned to her. “You think you’re
funny, don’t you?” he asked.

She grinned. “I think I’m pretty
freaking hysterical.”

He shook his head, trying to bite
back the grin. “That’s it, I’m outta here.”

He faded away.

“Bye, Mike,” she called, laughter
filling her voice. “Have a nice day.”

She pulled the Roadster up in front of Winneshiek. “It’s a
beautiful day,” she said. “I think I’ll go inside and try to wake the dead.”

She punched in the security code and entered the building,
closing the door securely behind her. She didn’t want to have another
unexpected surprise. “Hello,” she called out. “Faye, are you here?”

“Mary, get the hell out of here,” Faye yelled.

Mary laughed, “Why, Faye, that’s no way to talk to a guest.”

Mary jogged towards the stage, a spring in her step and a
smile on her face.

“Mary, look out!” Faye screamed.

Mary turned, but it was too late. The heavy sandbag careened
into her and everything went black.

Chapter Thirty-five

Bradley had a hunch and decided it
wouldn’t hurt anything to have him follow up on it. He heard a knock on his
office door, eight o’clock straight up, just on time. He walked to the door and
opened it. “Come in,” he invited.

Carl White walked through the door.

“Thanks for coming back.”

“Well, when the Chief of Police
asks you to stop in, you really don’t want to turn him down,” he said.

“That’s always a good policy,”
Bradley replied. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

“No, I’m good,” he said. “So what
did you want to ask me?”

“Why don’t you have a seat,”
Bradley suggested, motioning to the small round table in the corner of the
room. “I’m waiting for one more
person
to show up.”

A moment later, there was another
knock. “Ah, I’ll bet that’s him,” Bradley said, opening the door. “Benjamin,
come in and have a seat. Now we can get our little meeting going.”

Benjamin and Bradley joined Carl at
the table.

“Do you two know each other?”
Bradley asked.

Carl shook his head. “No, I’ve
never had the pleasure,” he said. “I’m Carl White.”

Bradley watched the older man pause
and then extend his hand.

“Benjamin Middlebury,” he said, “pleased
to meet you.”

Bradley sat back in his chair.
“Now, I’m guessing that you both have met before, but Carl, you were just too
young to remember and Benjamin, you were working on behalf of a client.”

Benjamin squirmed in his seat and
Carl sat forward. “You were the one?” he asked. “You were the one who brought
me to live with my father?”

Bradley was taken aback. “You knew?”
he asked. “You knew you were Faye McMullen’s son?”

Carl nodded. “Yeah, talk about
winning the booby-prize.”

Benjamin sat forward in his seat. “Wait.
You didn’t want to be her son?”

“No. No way,” he said. “I’m
perfectly happy being Carl White, son of Charlie and Delores White.”

“How did you find out?” Benjamin
asked.

“Faye told me a couple of years
ago,” he said. “She needed someone to direct one of her plays and had run out
of victims. She produced a birth certificate and told me the story. She said
unless I did what she wanted, she would let my mother know that her son wasn’t
just an adopted orphan, but her husband’s flesh and blood.”

Bradley shook her head. “She was a
real piece of work. So, that’s why you volunteer so much.”

“And that’s why she accuses me of
sleeping with younger women,” he said. “She keeps seeing my dad in me and
insists I’m just like him.”

“You never wanted her money?”
Benjamin asked, amazed by the turn of events.

“What money?” Carl said. “She never
had money.”

“She was changing her will and
leaving you quite a substantial sum,” he replied. “I thought you were behind
it. That you were blackmailing her.”

Carl laughed. “That lady had me so
twisted around her finger, it wasn’t funny,” he said. “I had to lose thirty
pounds, because she decided I was too fat and unhealthy. I had to take special
vitamins because I wasn’t eating right. I was jumping through hoops just to
protect my mom.”

“Do you really think she would have
told your mother?” Bradley asked.

Carl shrugged. “Probably not,” he
said. “You know, once I got to know her, she wasn’t half bad. She was pushy and
she was a bitch, but somewhere deep down inside she had her own unique way of
taking care of the people she loved.”

“But you’re the heir,” Benjamin
said. “You have legal proof, you’re the heir.”

“Yeah, and if I claim it my mother
is devastated. No thank you,” he said. “Rodney can be the heir.”

“So, how did you happen to meet
Rodney?” Bradley asked. “It seemed there was no love lost between the two of
you.”

“He came to my office about a month
ago,” Carl said. “He threatened to have me fired if I didn’t stop my
relationship with his aunt.”

“What did you do?” Bradley asked.

Carl chuckled. “I told him that I
would be very happy to stop the relationship. He just had to get his aunt to
agree to it.”

Benjamin leaned forward and put his
head in his hands. “This is
all my
fault,” he said. “
All my
fault.”

“What do you mean?” Bradley asked,
his stomach tightening. “What’s
all your
fault?”

“I told Rodney that I thought Carl
was blackmailing Faye,” he said. “I told him that Carl was trying to usurp him
as the next heir.”

“Why would you do that?” Carl
asked.

“Because Faye was changing her
will, isn’t that right, Benjamin?” Bradley said. “And you already knew you’d be
able to control Rodney, but you had no idea what kind of loose cannon Carl
would be.”

“Why didn’t you just come to me?”
Carl said. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“So how did Faye leave her will?”
Bradley asked.

“She had me draw up the new one,”
Benjamin replied. “I had it messengered to her place on Saturday night. All she
had to do was sign it and it would replace the old one.”

“Quite a coincidence that she was
killed on Saturday night before she could sign it,” Bradley said. “Why didn’t
you tell me?”

“Because the only people who knew
were Faye and me,” he said.

“Are you sure Faye didn’t tell
Rodney?” Bradley asked.

Carl sat back in his seat. “You
know, I do remember Faye speaking with him just before practice,” he said. “He
was pretty angry, but that wasn’t unusual if you were talking to Faye.”

“I can’t believe that Rodney could
kill Faye,” Benjamin said.

“Could you believe that he could
place a pressure bomb on the seat of a toilet?”

Carl chuckled. “Hey, that sounds
like a scene right out of Lethal Weapon.”

Bradley froze.
“Lethal
Weapon.”

He jumped out of his chair and ran
to his desk. “Dorothy I want an APB out on Rodney McMullen. Send a squad to his
home, search the city for his car, and consider him armed and dangerous.”

Benjamin jumped up. “Chief, I think
you’re overreacting.”

“Someone planted a bomb on the
office toilet of O’Reilly Investigations. Mary just happens to be investigating
Faye’s murder,” Bradley said, as he pulled on his jacket and tucked his gun
into its holster. “Rodney told me he spent Saturday watching a Lethal Weapon
marathon. I’m not going to take any chances.”