Twisted Paths (7 page)

He bent down and kissed her once more, reluctant to end the intimacy. “Soon, darling,” he promised, against her lips. “Very soon.”

“Uh hum,” Mike cleared his throat loudly behind them. “Okay, well, this is awkward.”

Mary heard a quiet swear word slip from Bradley’s lips and had to bend her head against his chest to hide her smile.

“You needed something?” Bradley asked.

Mike grinned at them. “Well, yeah, sorry and all,” he said. “But Clarissa has had a pretty full day and she’s just about asleep on her feet in there.”

Bradley sighed. “Sorry, Mike, you’re right. We’ll be in there in a moment,” he said.

Mike winked at Mary and then disappeared.

“You can stop smiling now,” he said to her.

She giggled. “Sorry,” she said raising her face to his. “I don’t know what came over me.”

He smiled down at her. “I love you, Mary O’Reilly,” he said. “That’s what came over me.”

“I love you too, Bradley Alden,” she replied. “Now let’s go put our daughter to bed.”

Chapter Thirteen

After good-night wishes from all of the men in the house, Mary took Clarissa upstairs to help her get ready for bed.

“Do I get to live here?” Clarissa asked as they entered her bedroom.

“Yes, you do,” Mary replied, pulling a new set of pajamas out of the drawers. “Do you think you’ll like it?”

Clarissa looked around the room, the walls were pale blue and the woodwork was white. The shelves were nearly empty, with only a few of her possessions lying on them.  Her dresser matched her bed, a delicate white enamel painted set with small appliques of roses on them.   There were new toys, still wrapped in their original packaging in a shopping bag from the store and a huge stuffed teddy bear in the middle of her bed.

“My mommy would have liked it,” she said sadly. “She loved the color blue.”

Mary gave her a hug. “What was her favorite blue thing?” she asked.

“She had blue slippers,” Clarissa said, her eyes filling with tears. “Daddy bought them for her for Christmas. She loved them lots.”

“Those slippers sound wonderful,” Mary said. “And your parents sound like they loved each other very much.”

Clarissa nodded. “I miss them.”

“Of course you do, darling,” Mary replied. “And I’m sure they miss you.”

She took a tissue from the dispenser on the table next to the bed and gently wiped Clarissa’s face. “They loved you so much,” she said.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, Clarissa nodded and remembered what Mike had told her. “I’m trying to have faith,” she explained to Mary. “And not be too sad.”

“Having faith is sometimes a hard thing to do,” Mary said. “And you seem to be doing an exceptional job.”

Smiling, Clarissa looked around the room again. “I do like it here, very much,” she admitted.

“I’m so glad,” Mary said. “Now, through that door is your bathroom.  Why don’t you wash up and brush your teeth, and I’ll try to organize some of your things.”

Clarissa walked through the open door, her pajamas in hand, and Mary could hear the water running in the sink.  She took some of the toys out of the bag and was walking to the shelf when Henry appeared in front of her. She jumped back and dropped the toys onto the rug. “You could have warned me,” she whispered harshly.

“Sorry,” Henry said. “I just wanted to be sure she was safe.”

“Mary,” Clarissa called from the bathroom.

“Yes, sweetheart,” Mary called over her shoulder.

“Is my mom with my dad now?” she asked.

Mary looked at Henry and raised an eyebrow.  “What would you like me to say to her?” she asked.

“Tell her…,” he paused for a moment. “Tell her that her mother and I are together in heaven.”

“But I can let her know…,” Mary began.

He shook his head.

“Yes, your mom is with your dad now,” she said.

Clarissa walked out of the bathroom, dressed in her new flannel nightgown, with a toothbrush in her mouth. “Good,” she said, around the scrubbing. “Cause he always took care of her. Now he can take care of her again.”

“Who took care of her when you were in Chicago?” Mary asked.

“Well, I think Mom thought she was taking care of me,” she said. “But I took care of her. And now she can just rest.”

Henry moved over to Clarissa’s side and smiled down at her. “She was always a brave little soldier,” he said. “She always did more than she should.”

Clarissa hurried back into the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste and rinse her mouth, then she climbed up into her bed.  Mary sat down next to her and tucked her in. “How did you take care of your mommy?” she asked.

Shrugging, Clarissa leaned back into the pillows and yawned. “I just took some of the worry away from her,” she said, “just like Daddy Henry used to do.  We both took the worry away from Mommy.”

Mary leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “That was a wonderful thing to do,” she said. “And I’m sure your Daddy Henry appreciated it.”

Yawning, Clarissa nodded. “We’re a team, Daddy Henry and me,” she explained, her voice getting softer. “That’s what he always said. We were a team.”

“Come on, let’s get you under the covers,” Mary suggested.

Snuggling into the pillow, her eyes heavy, she looked up at Mary. “Can you tell me a story?” she asked. “One about angels?”

Henry moved over to stand next to the bed. “When God created the world he had a plan,” he began.

“When God created the world, he had a plan,” Mary repeated.

Clarissa’s eyes widened. “That’s the story Daddy Henry would tell me,” she said.

Henry sat down on the other side of the bed. “That all of us would come down to earth and be born.”

“That all of us would come down to earth,” Mary repeated.

“And be borned,” Clarissa added.

“Exactly,” Mary said, sharing a smile with Henry.

“And the jobs of the mommies and the daddies were to take care of the children so they would learn how to be good, right?” Clarissa said.

“That’s right,” Mary agreed and then after listening to Henry added, “but God knew that sometimes people would need extra help.”

“So he made angels,” she yawned, her voice soft with awe. “Just like Mike.”

Mike appeared in the corner of the room and nodded at Henry.  He moved over to the bottom of the bed. “Yeah, just like me, sweetheart. And just like your Daddy Henry.”

“Daddy Henry said angels are all around us,” she whispered. “And they are closer than you think.”

“Yes, darling,” Mary said, stroking Clarissa’s hair. “They are often closer than you think.”

Her eyes were closing and her breathing was becoming more rhythmic. “I miss my Daddy Henry,” she said softly, her voice coming out like a breath.

“He misses you too darling,” Henry said, lowering his head to kiss her brow. “He misses you, too.”

Chapter Fourteen

Mary sighed as she sat at the kitchen table with her laptop in front of her.  She let Bradley talk her into working from home while Gary was still on the loose, but sitting in her house all morning was driving her crazy.  Ian was upstairs doing some research and Clarissa was with Bradley at the station for the day.

She got up, put the kettle on for another cup of tea and heard footsteps on the staircase.  Ian appeared in the kitchen a moment later. “You wouldna have enough water in that pot for another cuppa would you?” he asked.

“Sure, there’s plenty,” she replied, and then she reached up to the cabinet. “And if you stay downstairs and actually carry on an adult conversation with me, I’ll share my Oreos with you.”

He immediately pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. “And what would we be talking about this fine morning?” he asked with a grin.

She put a number of cookies on a plate and set it before him. “See, I like a man who’s easily bribed,” she said. “Now why can’t I trade Bradley some cookies for my freedom?”

Ian picked up a cookie and bit into it.

“Wait, you don’t eat those like that,” she objected. “You’re supposed to twist the top off and eat the center first.”

Ian held the partially consumed cookie in his hand and looked at her inquisitively.  “You have rules for how you eat a cookie?” he asked.

Mary shrugged, a little embarrassed. “Well, not all cookies,” she explained, “just some cookies.”

“Aye, and where would a fellow be finding a handbook that gives you instructions on the whys and wherefores on cookie eating in the States, then?” he asked.

She sighed. “Never mind, just bite it,” she said, turning away from him. “I just can’t watch.”

He grinned at her, then twisted the top off the cookie and held a part in each hand. “And now, what’s the next step, oh wise instructor?”

“You scrape the frosting off both sides,” she said.

“You don’t eat the frosting with the cookie?”

“No, you scrape it off with your teeth and then you eat the two chocolate cookies by themselves.”

“Well, then, why don’t you just buy unfrosted chocolate cookies?” he asked.

“Because…,” she paused, trying to come up with a rational explanation.

“Aye, because…” he prompted.

“Because it’s a custom and the frosting prepares your palate for the chocolate cookies,” she finished quickly.

Ian tilted his head and studied her for a moment. “A custom is it?” he asked.

Nodding, she grabbed a cookie from the plate, twisted it open and scraped the frosting from the middle. “A custom,” she reiterated, her mouth filled with frosting.

Ian scraped the frosting from the cookie and then took a bite. He chewed carefully, analyzing the flavor sensation of the bare cookie.  Finally, he nodded and smiled at Mary. “It does make a difference,” he admitted.

She slipped into her chair and shook her head. “Ian, I think I’ve lost it,” she whispered.

He patted her back. “No, darling, you just need a little excitement.”

At that moment the phone rang.  The two just stared at each other for a moment.

“Well, let’s just see if this is an answer to my prayers,” she said, picking up the phone.  “Mary O’Reilly.”

“Hey, Mary, this is Jerry Wiley, at the paper,” said the voice on the other end.

Mary smiled. “Yes, Jerry, I remember you.”

“Yeah, well, remember when I said there was something that I couldn’t remember about the Foley suicide.”

“Yes, I remember, you were going to email me something.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you ought to come down here,” he said. “Cause this is something that I want to tell you in person.”

“Okay, I’ll be down there in fifteen minutes,” she replied eagerly.

Then she looked at Ian whose eyebrows were raised and he was shaking his head. “Yeah, and I’ll be bringing a friend,” Mary said, rolling her eyes at Ian. “He’s really good at research, so he’ll be helpful.  Thanks Jerry.”

She hung up the phone and turned to him. “What?” she said, before he had a chance to say anything.

He smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I didna say a word,” he said. “But when he gets back tonight, you get to explain this to him.”

Mary walked over and turned off the kettle. “Well, as it happens, I have a meeting tonight,” she said. “I have to see a person about a ghost.”

Ian stood up and grabbed his jacket. “Well, then, you’ll be taking your researcher along with you,” he said. “Because I’d rather not be the person at home who gets to explain to Bradley where you’ve gone.”

Smiling, Mary offered him her hand. “Deal,” she said.

He grinned at her. “Aye, deal.”

Chapter Fifteen

Mary had often marveled at the effect beautiful women had on men.  Not that she considered herself in that category, but she had seen other, more obviously beautiful women walk into a room and have half of the men nearly fall upon themselves to help her.  She hadn’t realized, until she and Ian walked into the paper’s office that morning that the effect held true when a gorgeous man walked into a room too.

Ian held the door for Mary, and then followed her into the office. Mary watched as the heads of the women in the ad and classified sections lifted from their monitors and watched as he strolled across the room to the reception desk.  The receptionist, who earlier that week had been disinterested and sullen, was friendly and, Mary hated to say it, perky, when she saw Ian approach.  And Mary heard at least a dozen muffled sighs when he spoke.

“Good morning, darling, we’re here to see Jerry Wiley,” he said with a smile. “Is he available?”

She sighed. “Are you available?” she wondered aloud, and then realizing what she said, her face turned a dark shade of red.

Ian leaned forward, over the tall reception desk, and took her hand. “Ah, darling, I know you’d just break my heart,” he said softly.

Smiling up at him, she stood and just stared at him for a few more moments.  Then she shook her head, as if waking from a trance, and took a deep shuddering breath. “I’ll just go get him,” she said eagerly. “I won’t be a minute.”

Smiling at her, he nodded. “Thank you.”

She half-stumbled, half-jogged across the large room to the entrance of the newsroom, and then disappeared behind the door.

“If you could bottle that, you’d be dangerous,” Mary whispered to Ian.

He shrugged, causing all of the muscles under his knit shirt to expand and then contract and all of the women’s heart rates to accelerate. “I canna explain it,” he said. “It must be the accent.”

She grinned at him.  He was really clueless, which was probably part of the charm. “Yeah, that and the shirt,” she teased.

“My shirt?” he asked looking down. “What’s wrong with my…”

“Um, Mr. Wiley can see you now,” the receptionist announced, as she hurried back across the room.

“Thank you, darling,” he said with a smile and then allowed Mary to enter through the security gate first, following her across the room.

“Why the hell did you bring him with you?” Jerry asked as they slipped through the doorway to the newsroom. “Now I’m not going to get any work out of them for a couple of hours.”

“What? What did I do?” Ian asked.

“Jerry Wiley, this is Professor Ian MacDougal from the University of Edinburgh,” she said.

Jerry’s eyebrows raised and he studied Ian again. “He’s the guy who wrote that thesis on paranormal phenomenon and electromagnetic residue?”