Veiled Passages (16 page)

Pulling the envelope out from beneath his coat, he handed it to her, but then caught his reflection in the door window.  His makeup around his face had been wiped off.  He looked down and saw the white gel smeared on his sleeve.  Dorothy yanked the envelope away from him, to the other side of the counter and stepped back away from him.

“Give me the letter,” he demanded.

She clutched it to her chest and shook her head. “I’ve already pressed the alarm,” she said. “They know you are here.”

He was about to climb over the counter when he heard the footsteps coming up the center stairs.  Dashing past her, he ran down the hall to the back set of stairs he had discovered when he studied the building earlier. 

“He’s down there,” he heard Dorothy yell as he jumped down the stairs to the first floor.

Exiting the building, he ran across the street and ducked behind a church, quickly discarding his coat, hat and wig, and then ran through a gangway that led back to Stephenson Street.  Crossing over Stephenson, he ducked into the parking lot of the huge stately Masonic Temple and hid behind the vendor trucks parked near the loading area. 

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief and scrubbed away the remaining traces of the makeup.  Slipping out of the oversized clothing, to the jeans and shirt he wore beneath, he balled the discarded clothes up and tossed them into a dumpster next to the building.

Walking casually down Walnut Street, watching the building windows for signs of the police, he finally decided it was safe to head back to his car.  He glanced over at City Hall as members of the Bomb Squad stopped at the entrance of the building, speaking with an excited Dorothy.  “Damn it,” he growled, as he walked down the street to his car. “I’ll just have to get to him some other way.”

Chapter Thirty-five

“A bomb!” Mary exclaimed, sitting down suddenly on a kitchen chair. “He tried to murder you with a bomb?!?!”

Bradley knelt down next to her and took her hand in his. “Mary, he tried and it was a poor attempt,” he said calmly. “Dorothy had him figured out before anything could happen.”

“Well, I know what I’m going to do about this,” Rosie said firmly, pacing from the living room to the kitchen. “I’m going to make Dorothy a plate of cinnamon rolls.”

“Don’t they got no bomb sniffing dogs you can use?” Stanley asked. “Seems to me iffen he tried it once, he’s gonna try it again.”

Margaret brought a cup of tea over to her daughter and placed it in her hand.  She enfolded Mary’s hand in her own and met her eyes. “This is the time when you thank God for saving Bradley,” she said. “And you don’t linger on the ‘what-might-have-beens’ because that is what will drive you crazy.”

“But, Ma, he could have…”

Margaret leaned over and placed her finger on Mary’s lips.  “Do you know how many nights I sat home worried about your Da or you or one of your brothers?” she asked. “I would worry myself so much, I’d get sick.  I finally realized that whether I worried or not, I had no control over the situation.  And the only one who had control was looking out for all of you already.  So, I placed my burden at His feet and trusted Him. You need to have faith, Mary.”

She lifted her finger and Mary exhaled softly. “It’s hard, Ma,” she whispered.

“Yes, it is. I’ll give you that,” she replied. “But it’s much harder living in fear.”

Tightening her grip on Bradley’s hand, she turned to him. “So, what’s the next step?”

He leaned up and kissed her. “That’s my girl,” he said. “The next step is that we remain vigilant. And we take even more precautions. He seems to be getting desperate.”

Ian, who had been quietly listening from the other side of the table finally spoke. “I’m a wee bit torn here,” he said. “If Copper’s getting desperate, I’m not sure if I should be staying at Bradley’s or biding my time here.”

“Well, I’ll be spending my time either at the office or parked outside the house on lookout,” Bradley said.

“Aye, well that settles it,” Ian said, winking at Mary. “If Bradley isn’t going to be home to protect me, I’ll stay here where Margaret will.”

Margaret moved around the table, placed her hands on Ian’s shoulders and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Ian,” she said. “We’d be happy to have you here.”

Turning to Ian, Mary nodded. “Actually, it will make me feel safer knowing you’re here too,” she said and then smiled at her mother. “Although I think Ma might have frightened him away.”

“Well, I hope I did,” Margaret said. “But just to be sure, it’ll be nice to have Ian around.”

 “But what about Gillian?” Mary asked.

“I don’t think I need her here to protect me too,” Ian teased. “Margaret will be enough.”

Mary laughed. “No, I meant, don’t you need to drive into Chicago and pick her up?”

“No, actually, she’s coming in a few days early for a meeting,” he said. “Then she’ll drive up here in her own car.  She’ll be up here a day before the wedding.”

Rosie gasped. “The wedding!  The invitations,” she said. “They were supposed to go out today.  Now it will be too late for people to send wedding gifts to your house beforehand.”

Mary looked down at Bradley, alarm on both of their faces. “Gift boxes,” she said.

Bradley nodded. “I know,” he agreed. “Rosie, are the invitations sealed yet?”

She shook her head. “No, I was going to address envelopes and seal them tonight. But it looks like I won’t get to them until tomorrow.”

“Good,” he replied. “We need you to add something to the invitations about not sending gifts to either house. Copper would easily be able to sneak another bomb in if we had a number of deliveries.”

“Well, what should we do?” Rosie asked. “We need to have some kind of address.”

“Oh, well, they can send things to the bride’s home in Chicago,” Margaret said. “Timothy and the boys will be coming up on the day of the wedding.  They can bring the gifts with them.”

“But what about Copper?” Mary said.

“Since he won’t be receiving an invitation, he’ll have no idea,” Margaret said. “Besides, if I know your Da and the boys’ way of keeping house while I’m gone, an explosion would only be an improvement.”

“Well, then the problem is solved,” Rosie said, standing up. “Stanley, we’d better get going. We have a lot of writing to do.”

“I’ll come over in the morning and help you finish them,” Margaret offered.

“That would be nice, “ Rosie said.

Stanley looked over at Mary. “Iffen you need anything, you call me, got it girlie?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” she replied, as she stood up and placed a kiss on his wrinkled cheek. “Thank you.”

As they were leaving, Mike appeared in the living room. “Ashley and Clarissa are just leaving the Brennan’s house,” he said. “So, if you have anything you don’t want her to hear, you better hurry.”

“Aye, then I’d best take the chance now,” Ian said, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket. “I know this isn’t the best time or place to do this.  But, considering how things are, I thought I’d do it now, so you can prepare.”

Mary’s heart leapt to her throat. “Ian, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Take the envelope and open it,” he said, his face stern and unsmiling.

Mary ripped open the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper wrapped around some other documents. She opened the paper and read it, and with tears welling in her eyes, handed it to Bradley.

“No, Ian,” Bradley said. “This is too much.”

“Ah, well, think of the adventure,” he said and with a nod in Mary’s direction, “And the privacy.”

“Is anyone going to fill me in on what’s going on?” Margaret asked.

Mary took a deep breath. “Ian has given us the use of his estate in Scotland for our honeymoon,” she said.

Margaret sniffed. “Well, it’s not Ireland, but it will do,” she said, tossing a cheeky grin in Ian’s direction.

“Those are vouchers for your flights,” he said. “There’s no date, so if you can’t leave right away, there’s no loss.  Just give me a few days to notify the staff and it’s all yours.”

“But what about Clarissa?” Mary asked.

“Aye, well, I took it upon meself to ask Katie Brennan if Clarissa could stay with them for a wee bit while you honeymooned,” Ian said. “She was more than delighted to oblige.”

Bradley shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.”

Ian walked over to Bradley and extended his hand. “Say you haven’t already bought tickets for two to a tropical island,” he teased. “And I haven’t spoiled your plan.”

Laughing, Bradley took Ian’s hand and pulled him in for a man hug. “Thanks, Ian,” he said. “You haven’t ruined any plans and a week with Mary in a secluded estate in Scotland is right up there with the tropical island.”

“Good,” he said. “Now, let’s take care of Copper, so you can enjoy your honeymoon as soon as possible.”

Chapter Thirty-six

Clarissa smothered a yawn as she sat at the kitchen table with Bradley and did her homework. “Hey, pumpkin head,” he said softly. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes wide and earnest. “Just one more page, okay?” she asked. “Then I’ll have all of the extra credit work done too.”

He leaned over and stroked the top of her head. “Okay, one more page,” he agreed, “And then it’s time for bed.”

She nodded, eagerly turned the next page of the workbook and concentrated on the problems.

He watched as she bit her lower lip in concentration and was instantly reminded of Jeannine: she had done the same thing. Sitting back in the chair, he was a little surprised when the feelings of grief didn’t arise. He felt a dull ache and a tender sadness, but the overwhelming sorrow was gone. Absently, he rubbed his hand over his heart and looked down at his daughter again.  She had turned her pencil around and was erasing one answer furiously.

“Well, crap,” she whispered, “It’s going to leave a dirty mark.”

A grin spread across his face and filled his heart when he heard Mary’s favorite expression come from Clarissa’s mouth. He realized with sudden clarity that Clarissa would always have the influences of both of the women he loved and, although Jeannine’s influence would be hereditary, Mary’s would be just as significant because it would be constant and daily.

“Well, crap,” Mary exclaimed from the kitchen. “I can’t find the lid to the salad dressing.”

Looking up, Clarissa smiled at her father and whispered. “She’ll find it, she always does.”

“Oh, found it,” Mary called a moment later.

Clarissa giggled. “See.”

Mary walked over to the table. “And just what are you giggling about?” she asked, offering a very bad imitation of being stern.

“Nothing,” Clarissa laughed.

Mary bent over and kissed Clarissa’s neck, making very loud smacking noises. “Tell me,” she said between kisses. “Or I’ll have to continue torturing you.”

“No, never,” Clarissa protested dramatically between giggles. “Daddy help me.”

“Your wish is my command,” Bradley replied, as he stood up, walked over and lifted Mary into his arms. “What should we do with her?”

Mary wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him. “Please, don’t hurt me,” she pleaded. “And whatever you do, don’t let him torture me.”

“Torture her,” Clarissa cried. “Like she did to me.”

Looking down at Mary he smiled. “With pleasure,” he said, slowly bending his head towards her waiting lips.

She sighed softly, closed her eyes and waited for his kiss. He kissed her softly on her cheek, and then feathered a number of small kisses across her face and along her jawline.  She leaned back, offering him greater access to her neck. He pressed his lips against her neck and paused. Her eyes flew open, but before she could react, he exhaled loudly against her skin, making such a loud noise that she jumped in his arms.

“Bradley,” she shouted, while Clarissa laughed with glee.  

 He lifted his face and grinned down on her. “Sorry, darling, but what’s good for the goose…”

He lowered his head and placed a series of loud, wet sloppy kisses on her neck while she tried to push away from him. “Bradley, stop it,” she squealed.

“Okay, now I understand what you see in him,” Mike said, appearing next to them. “I don’t think I’ve seen such an enthusiastic kisser since I had my Saint Bernard. And, really, Bradley kisses just like him.”

“Mike,” Clarissa cried, “Daddy’s torturing Mary.”

“So she’s finally admitting that kissing him is torture?” he asked. “Well, she’s come a long way.”

“Um, we’re busy here,” Bradley said, lifting his head from Mary’s neck for a moment.

“Um, it’s past bedtime here,” Mike reminded him.

Bradley put Mary on the ground and gave her one final kiss on her lips. “That’s for letting me torture you,” he whispered.

She smiled at him, then turned to Clarissa and made a point of wiping her neck with her shoulder. “That was so gross,” she exclaimed.

“No, that was awesome,” Clarissa said. “Do it again.”

Bradley bent down and lifted Clarissa into his arms. “You mean you want me to do it to you?” he asked.

“No,” she cried, delighted.

He placed several noisy kisses on her neck while she shrieked with pleasure.

“Now it’s time for bed,” he said, and moved over to Mary so she could give Clarissa a kiss goodnight.

“Sleep tight, darling,” she said. “See you in the morning.”

Bradley carried her upstairs, followed by Mike hovering right behind them.

A few minutes later, Clarissa was in pajamas and had washed up for bed.  She ran across the room, jumped into her bed and snuggled under the covers. Bradley sat down on the side of her bed and reached over to her nightstand where a selection of books lay in a pile, he picked up a couple of the more recent selections. “So, what would you like me to read tonight?” he asked.

“Can we just talk tonight?” Clarissa asked. “About something important?”

Putting down the books, he turned to her. “Sure, what would you like to talk about?” he asked.

She sat up in the bed. “Well, Maggie and I have been talking about stuff,” she explained.

“What kind of stuff?” he asked.

“What we want to do when we grow up,” she replied.