Veiled Passages (10 page)

Clarissa and Margaret were on the couch, Margaret’s arms wrapped around the sleepy child.  She looked past the officer she was speaking with and smiled up at Mary and Bradley.

“And how was your date?” she asked.

Chapter Twenty-one

Mary and Bradley softly closed the door to Clarissa’s bedroom and collectively breathed a sigh of relief.  Clarissa was sound asleep and seemed no worse for wear after her experience that night.

“I don’t know how she does it,” Mary whispered as they walked down the stairs.

“Well, when you’ve been living in a war zone most of your life, a little shelling doesn’t affect you like most people,” Bradley replied quietly. “Hiding from the bad man is normal to her.”

“I can’t wait until all of this is a distant memory for her,” she replied, “and she has a normal life.”

Bradley turned to her, his eyebrows raised and she laughed. “Okay, somewhat normal,” she amended.

“Who’s somewhat normal?” Mike asked as they entered the living room.

“Not you,” Ian inserted, carrying in a plate of cookies and placing them on the coffee table.

“Not you what?” Margaret asked, looking confused.

Ian turned and smiled apologetically at her. “I’m sorry, I forgot you cannae hear or see Mike,” he said.

“Oh, you mean Clarissa’s guardian angel?” she replied matter-of-factly, picking up one of the cookies and perching on the edge of the recliner with her cup of tea. “Is he still here?”

“How did you know about him, Ma?” Mary asked, as she sat down on the couch beside Bradley.

“Clarissa told me about him, just after he told us the bad man was coming and we needed to hide,” she replied.

“Mike, you were the one who alerted them?” Bradley asked.

Shrugging, Mike motioned toward Margaret. “I might have alerted them, but I wasn’t the one who was brandishing an ax in the workroom, ready to protect Clarissa from anyone and anything.”

Shocked, Mary turned back to her mother. “You had an ax?” she asked. “You were going to fight someone with an ax?”

Her mother calmly placed her cup in the saucer and turned to her daughter. “Ah, well, there weren’t any broadswords in the basement, so I had to do with what was handy.”

Ian looked at Bradley. “Looks like you’re marrying into a family of female warriors,” he said. “Mind yourself or you might end up on the wrong side of a sword.”

But Bradley didn’t respond to Ian’s joke.  He stood, walked across the room, squatted down in front of Margaret’s chair and took her hand in his.  “Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with emotion. “Thank you for protecting Clarissa.”

She patted him on the top of his head. “She’s my granddaughter,” Margaret said firmly. “She’s family. If anyone dares hurt my family, they have to come through me first.”

He looked up at her face; her eyes were calm, but serious. She meant every word of it. She would protect those she loved with her life. Ian was right; the O’Reillys were a family of warriors. “I’m grateful, once again, to be part of the O’Reilly clan,” he said.

“That’s all well and good,” Margaret said. “But, now, how are we going to catch the bounder?”

Ian choked on his tea and grinned at her. “Margaret O’Reilly, it’s glad I am that you’re on our side.”

Mary shook her head. “No, Ma, I don’t want you to be part of this,” she said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“And what do you expect me to do now?” Margaret asked. “Pack up my bags and head back to Chicago?  And what of the wedding, will you be postponing it because it’s too dangerous? No, Mary, we can’t live our lives in fear of this man.”

“You have no idea what this man is capable of,” Mary said, her voice shaking with fear as she considered what Copper would have done to her mother if he had captured her. “I just can’t risk it.”

She stood up and walked out of the room into the kitchen.  She tried to open a cabinet and swore softly when she realized her hands were shaking. She laid her head against the cabinet and took a deep breath.  They didn’t understand.  They hadn’t been under his control.  They didn’t realize how disturbed and dangerous he really was.

“What would you have me do?” her mother asked softly from directly behind her.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Mary shook her head. “I don’t know, Ma,” she whispered. “I’m afraid. I’m terrified that you or Clarissa could be taken…”

She turned to face her mother. “He’s not sane, Ma,” she said. “He’s almost not human. He has no conscience, no sense of right or wrong.”

Placing her hands on Mary’s shoulders, Margaret pulled her daughter in to her embrace and held her, as she had when Mary was a child.  She stroked Mary’s back and waited until she felt Mary calm a little. “What would you have me do, Mary?” she asked again. “How would you like to handle this?”

This time the deep breath was not shuddering: it was a symbol of resolve and destiny. “I want you to be safe,” Mary finally answered.

Margaret chuckled softly. “I’ve often made the same request of you, your brothers and your Da,” she said. “And what would be your usual response?”

Mary stepped back, still staying within her mother’s embrace. “I’m…we’re trained to deal with this,” she argued gently, avoiding answering the question.

“No one is trained to deal with someone like this man,” Margaret argued. “But, there are things I’m willing to do to ease your heart and protect myself and Clarissa. That’s what you always say to me.  You’ll take the necessary precautions.  Aye, and so will I.”

“But, Ma…” she began.

“You can’t let him win, Mary.  If he’s made you fear your own life, then he’s won. And we O’Reillys don’t roll over that easily.”

Mary hugged her mother again. “No, we O’Reillys are a stubborn and hard-headed lot,” she said with a sigh.

“Yes, we are,” her mother agreed, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “And we are a might smarter than the average bounder.  Advantage us.”

Mary nodded, put her arm around her mother and guided her back into the living room. “We…we’re both ready to fight,” she said, giving her mother a quick squeeze. “So, what’s the plan?”

Chapter Twenty-two

Mary sat in her bed, pillows piled up against the headboard and listened to the sounds of the house.  She knew Copper had been in her house once before, but somehow, knowing he had entered when Clarissa and her mother were the only ones home, made it worse.  And, now, with only women in the house, did he think they were an easier target?

She leaned over, pulled open the nightstand drawer and felt the reassuring cold steel of her gun safe.  For Clarissa’s sake, she kept her gun locked up, but with only a few key punches, her loaded handgun would be ready for their protection.  She ran her fingers through her hair, sighed and leaned back in her pillows; she was never going to get any sleep. 

“Mary, I’ll keep watch,” Mike said, appearing next to her bed. “I just checked on Clarissa and she’s fine. Get some sleep.”

“But Mike, if something…”

“Hey, if you can’t trust a guardian angel, who can you trust?”

“She can trust a trained officer of the law,” Peter announced haughtily, as he appeared next to Mike.

“Dude, you’re naked! Get some clothes on,” Mike cried, covering his eyes with his arm. “Friend of yours, Mary?”

Mary’s sigh was even longer and louder this time. “Peter, please cover yourself,” she said, tossing a pillow in his direction. “And then explain what you are going here.”

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Mike repeated.

Peter placed the pillow strategically in front of himself and, purposefully ignoring Mike, turned towards Mary. “I overheard the conversation downstairs and I have come to offer my personal assistance,” he explained. “I have been employed with a number of alphabet agencies and I know, firsthand, what it takes to track down a criminal like this one.”

Tired, frustrated and with a headache pounding right behind her eyes, Mary lost it. “Peter, if you were so damn good at investigation, why are you still a ghost?  Why haven’t you found out who killed you?  And, how in hell were they able to get in your room, murder you and leave without a trace? I’m trying to protect my family here, not add to your portfolio.”

Peter was humiliated and ashamed. He stepped away from Mary and the onslaught of her angry words. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, beginning to fade away before them. “I truly only wanted to help.”

Immediately contrite, Mary shook her head and lifted her arm to stop him. “No, Peter, please stay,” she apologized. “I’m tired, I’m frustrated and I’m afraid. But that was no reason to say the things I did.  Please forgive me.”

Peter came back into full view. “No, don’t apologize,” he said. “I understand pressure and frustration; I should have waited with my offer until the morning.”

“Hey, were you really, like CIA?” Mike asked.

Peter nodded. “Something like that,” he said. “I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you.”

“Yeah, well, too late,” Mike replied with a laugh. “So you’ve done stake outs and stuff like that?”

“Yes, stake outs were routine,” he said.

“Well, okay, how about you and me heading downstairs and we patrol the house all night, so Mary can get some sleep,” Mike suggested, and then he turned to Mary. “You got two dead guys watching over you. If that doesn’t comfort you, nothing will.”

Surprised that she actually felt calmer, she nodded, “You’re right,” she said. “I do feel comforted. I’d appreciate the help.”

“And then, once you’re rested, you can tell me what else I can do to help,” Peter added. “But this dead fellow here is right, you need some sleep.”

“That’s guardian angel dead fellow to you,” Mike said.

Intrigued, Peter turned to him. “Really? A guardian angel. That’s somewhat like Special Forces in heaven, isn’t it?” he asked, as he and Mike began to fade away. “I would really like to learn more…”

They both disappeared and Mary shook her head in incredulity. No one, absolutely no one, would believe what went on in her life. She scooted down in her bed, laid her head down on the pillows and snuggled into her blankets.  “I know I’m not going to get any sleep tonight,” she said, as a yawn escaped her lips. “I’m far too tense. And too worried. And far too…”

The soft breathing slipping from her slightly parted lips whispered through the room. Mike reappeared, smiled down on her and nodded knowingly. “Yeah, there’s no way you would sleep tonight,” he whispered. “Sleep tight, Mary.”

He glided across the room, turned off the light and faded away.

Chapter Twenty-three

Bradley, watching from his car parked down the street, saw the light go off in Mary’s bedroom and breathed a sigh of relief. Mike had promised he’d get her to rest for a while. Shaking his head, he allowed himself a small smile.
And if you can’t trust a guardian angel, who can you trust
?

He had told her not to worry, but he knew she would still be concerned.  He had told her that once his plan had been foiled, there would be no way he’d show up again.  But they both knew that Gary Copper was not a usual suspect.  He was mentally unstable, so there was no telling what he might or might not do.  The recent report from the FBI profilers had indicated that he had deviated from his projected course when he killed his lawyer.  Up until then the killings had been through poisoning or, in the case of his wife, by accident.  The brutal murder of his lawyer told them his instability had escalated and his moral constraints had lessened.  He was, quite simply, a person who was driven only by his desires and had no compunction about killing whoever got in his way.

Taking another sip of soda, he leaned back against the headrest. He hadn’t told Mary he’d brought the FBI in to the case.  He thought if she knew that, she’d be even more worried and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Smiling wryly, he pictured her in the little black dress and high heels she had worn on their abbreviated date. He could still smell her perfume in his car.  He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed it in. It was exotic. Like a hot night on a tropical island. Like warm sand and soft, foamy waves. She smelled just like…

“Cookies?” Ian asked, as he slipped into the car next to Bradley.

“What the hell?” Bradley shouted, alarmed by his appearance.

“Good job, mate, watching the house and all,” Ian teased. “It’s a bit tricky when your eyes are closed, but, hey, I’m a professor, not an officer of the law.”

“Shut up, Ian,” Bradley grumbled.

Ian closed the door and settled into the seat, placing the bag of cookies on his lap and his large cup of soda in the cup rest.  He inhaled deeply and grinned. “Well, now, I can see why a man couldn’t concentrate with her perfume floating all around the car. Do you want me to run into the house and bring out some disinfectant?”

Bradley turned and glared at Ian. “No thank you,” he said. “And why are you here in the first place?”

“Ah, well, I knew you could use my help staying awake while you watched over the house,” he explained. “And since I knew I wouldna be getting any sleep myself, sitting around worrying, I decided to come and pay you a visit.”

Bradley reached over and snatched a cookie. “Thanks, Ian,” he said.

 “So, how is she doing?” Ian asked.

Shrugging, he glanced up at the bedroom window. “The light went off a few minutes ago,” he said. “I’m guessing Mike turned it off. He said he’d watch over her.”

“Aye, she was quite worked up,” Ian said. “The look on her face as she stood in the front yard and waited for word is not one I’d like to see again.”

Bradley pictured her panicked look as they hurried from the restaurant. “I am such a complete idiot.”

Sitting back against the seat, Ian studied him for a moment. “So, what’s really the issue here?”

“Nothing, really, it’s nothing,” Bradley replied, placing his hands on the steering wheel and looking out over the neighborhood.

“You know, you don’t have to tell me,” Ian said, nonchalantly, as he picked up another cookie. “But at least do me the courtesy of not lying to my face.”

Bradley sighed. “I was just thinking…I took her out on a date,” Bradley said, turning to Ian. “Okay? I took her out on a damn date and left her mother and my daughter home without protection. If anything had happened to them…”