Veiled Passages (21 page)

Tracey turned around slowly. “Yes?” she asked.

Mary waited until everyone else was out of ear shot. “Just who are you and who do you work for?” Mary asked.

Chapter Forty-six

Tracey smiled. “What do you mean, Mary?” she asked. “I’m a mystery writer. I don’t work for anyone but myself.”

“You weren’t at the house when Ian put the list together,” Mary said. “You’d already left to go to the deli. And the deli is only five minutes away from the house. You were gone more than an hour and a half.”

Mary walked over and placed a small object in Tracey hand. “Bradley’s bullet,” she said. “It was wedged in the limestone. I can almost guarantee when we check his gun, only one bullet will have been fired.”

Tracey sighed sadly. “You really are good,” she said, pulling out her gun and aiming it at Mary. “I really wish you weren’t.”

“Wait! Tracey is a spy?” Peter asked, astonished. “I had no clue.”

“The coroner and forensics team will be here in five minutes,” Mary said. “Do you really think you can kill me and be out of here in that amount of time?”

Nodding, her expression was wistful. “Yes, I will,” she said. “My people will slow things up, so I make my escape.  It would be too…messy…for me to be caught.”

She moved closer to Mary. “What gave me away?” Tracey asked.

“Other than the fact you were the only one who didn’t nearly step on Bradley when you came into the basement?” she asked. “There were a bunch of little clues: the way you moved when you approached the crime scene, the way you didn’t hesitate to enter the basement and, really, I didn’t buy the informed relatives spiel, no one has relatives that informed. So, who are you?”

Tracey smiled and shook her head. “I really can’t tell you, but it’s one of those agencies whose letters are not as familiar as some.”

“She’s covert?” Peter asked, shaking his head. “She works for a covert agency.”

“A covert agency?” Mary asked.

“Let’s just say, sometimes our government has jobs it needs to handle that get a little messy for the regular guys.”

“How did you know about Copper?” Mary asked. “You had to have been here before Bradley arrived.”

“We’ve had satellites trained on your house and on the community for the past week,” she said. “I studied the photos and noticed a car in front of your place on the night he broke in. It was fairly simple to run a check on the other photos, webcams and security cameras throughout the city and determine where the car had gone.”

She shook her head. “I was going to take Copper out today,” she said. “Peter’s profiling was getting you too close to the solution. It was just a coincidence that Bradley showed up at the same time.”

“Well, thank you for saving his life,” Mary said. “I owe you.”

“She’s got a gun on you,” Peter said. “She’s going to kill you and you thank her?  Are you nuts?”

Tracey tossed the bullet in the air and caught it in her hand and nodded to Mary.  “No, you gave me this, we’re even,” she said. “I’ll make sure we replace this one with the one the coroner will remove from Copper’s head. We’ll want everything to match up, won’t we?”

“Yes, you will,” Mary replied. “But tell me, you seem to be very professional about all this; why in the world did you kill Peter?”

“She killed me?” Peter exclaimed. “I was taken out by a covert agency? I knew it!  I knew it! I was assassinated! I was right!”

Tracey sighed deeply. “Peter was talking to the other side,” she said. “He had too much information to let him defect, so we had to stop him.”

“You knew about that?” Peter asked. “I thought I was hiding it pretty well.”

“Wait. Are you telling me that Peter actually did work for an alphabet agency?” Mary asked, shaking her head in unbelief. “I thought he was just over-exaggerating.”

Laughing, Tracey nodded. “Yes, he actually was a spy,” she said. “And he was quite good at it.  He just had a problem with keeping his mouth shut.”

“I really wasn’t going to defect,” Peter said. “But it was flattering to be asked and they were giving me so much money to even consider it.”

“But he played a dangerous game,” Tracey said. “I had nothing against him, I actually liked Peter. But it was an assignment.”

“But how…” Peter asked.

“So, how did you do it?” Mary asked.

Tracey glanced over at the canister. “Nitrogen,” she replied, with a toss of her head. “I tucked towels under the bathroom door, so there was no ventilation and then fed a plastic tube under the door that was attached to a tank of nitrogen. It doesn’t take that much nitrogen to change the oxygen levels of a room. Quiet, undetectable and fairly painless.  I really didn’t want him to have a painful death.”

“Brilliant,” Peter said. “Nitrogen! Of course.”

Peter turned to Mary with a smile on his face. “I was taken out by a covert alphabet agency,” he said. “And obviously she is one of their best. What a great way to die.”

“But you were murdered,” Mary said.

“Actually, truth be told, I wanted it to happen,” he confessed. “I wanted someone to kill me.”

“Why?” Mary asked.

“I decided it was better to be killed than die of cancer,” he said sincerely. “I was always a man of action. I got to die that way. I’m content now.”

Mary turned to Tracey. “Did you know about Peter’s cancer?” she asked.

“There were rumors,” she said. “Nothing official. But I can understand wanting to die as you lived.”

 “Well, this is ironic,” Mary said.

“I really wish you hadn’t figured this out,” Tracey said. “It was an honor and a privilege working with you.”

“Somehow your compliment doesn’t make me feel better,” Mary said.

“You’re pretty stoic about dying,” Tracey said.

“Been there, done that,” Mary replied, sighing dramatically. “If only I’d been smart enough to figure out that you weren’t who you said you were sooner than now.”

“Well, we all can’t be spies now, can we?” Tracey said.

“Aye, but we can play one on the tellie,” Ian said, stepping down the stairs with a gun pointed at Tracey.

“Sorry darling,” he said to Mary. “You sent me off to drive your car without the keys. But I appreciate you giving me Bradley’s gun. It’s come in handy.”

Tracey stared at Mary. “You knew? No one has ever suspected me.”

Mary shrugged. “When you grow up in a family of cops, you learn to suspect everyone,” she said. “Sorry to disappoint, but you won’t be killing anyone today.”

“So we have an impasse,” Tracey said. “Even if you kill me, the agency will send someone else after you. It’s a no win situation.”

“Well, quite frankly, I don’t want to kill you,” Mary said. “You saved Bradley’s life and I’m really not into the ‘taking-a-life’ business. It’s not part of the agreement I made when I got to come back.”

“Um, Mary, I’m hearing a car pull up,” Ian said. “We need to decide something quickly.”

Mary thought about it for a moment and then smiled at Tracey. “Do you have anyone in your agency who can do what I do?” she asked.

“See ghosts?” Tracey asked.

“Not just see ghosts,” Ian inserted. “Talk to them and get information.”

“Information from ghosts,” Tracey mused. “That’s a pretty rare and fairly impressive talent.”

“And if we were both working on the same side,” Mary added.

Tracey paused, lowered her gun and smiled back. “So, if you’re part of the agency…”

“Actually, if we are part of your agency,” Mary said, looking over at Ian. “He needs to be safe too.  And, while we’re at it, Bradley would need to be part.  But, once we make that deal, your secret is safe with me and my secret is safe with you.”

Nodding, Tracey smiled. “Give me a minute.”

Mary and Ian watched as Tracey placed a call to her superiors.  In no time, she hung up her phone and nodded to them. “Yeah, I think we can work out a deal,” she said, holstering her gun and moving towards the stairs. “They’ve been monitoring this whole situation and they’re pretty impressed with all of you. I’ll get back to you, after the wedding.”

“Thanks,” Mary said, biting her lower lip, “and in the meantime, I’ll try to explain this to Bradley.”

“You do that and I’ll handle Sally and Honora,” Tracey said.

Ian laughed. “Aye, that should be interesting.”

“Mary,” Peter said, drawing her attention back. “Something strange is happening. There’s a door opening up ahead, I can’t see into it, the light is too bright.”

“Your mystery is over, Peter,” she said. “It’s time for you to move on.”

“But what happens next?” he asked, hesitating.

Mary walked over to him. “You need to go towards that door, Peter,” Mary said. “That’s your next great adventure.”

Peter smiled at her and nodded. “One more adventure,” he said, as he began to fade away, “Just what I was hoping for.”

Chapter Forty-seven

Mary was sitting on the side of the hospital bed when Bradley woke up. His eyes fluttered open and she smiled down at him. “Welcome back,” she whispered.

He began to smile back when his eyes widened in horror. “Copper?” he asked, his voice coming out in a croak.

“Dead,” Mary replied, gently pushing his hair off his forehead. “He will never threaten us again.”

His memories were fairly fuzzy.  He remembered the old house and the basement. He remembered being drugged and firing his gun. “How…how did he die?” he asked.

She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I believe the coroner will discover that the bullet he found in Copper’s head came from your gun,” she said, knowing she would tell him the entire truth when they were in a place that was more private.

“Is everyone else okay?” Bradley asked.

Mary nodded. “Yes, but Mike stopped by and said the girls wanted to know about Mr. Rupp?”

“Oh, would you tell them that Mr. Rupp was found and he’s now where he’s supposed to be,” he replied.

“Is he, by any chance, the man in the freezer?” she asked.

He nodded.

“And you’re going to explain this to me someday,” she said firmly.

He slowly looked around his hospital room. “So, how long have I been here?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Only a couple of hours,” she said, playing along with him. “You needed to sleep off the effects of the nitrous oxide. How are you feeling?”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Like the luckiest man in the world,” he said, reaching for her hand and entwining his fingers with hers. “So, how about marrying me?”

“Well, I think that’s an excellent suggestion,” she replied. “I’m free this Saturday and I have a caterer.”

“You have a caterer?” Bradley asked. “Peter, the naked ghost, is no longer with us?”

“No, he’s gone,” she said. “And the owner of the hotel is thrilled.”

Bradley lifted her hand to his lips. “How thrilled?”

“Thrilled enough to give us the bridal suite for free on Saturday night,” she replied. “The same suite Peter died in.”

Bradley paused, his lips inches from her hand. “Is this an ‘I’m thrilled’ gesture, or is this an ‘I want to be sure the ghost is gone’ gesture?”

She grinned and shrugged. “I’m not sure, but we still get the bridal suite for free.”

He tugged on her hand and pulled her down on top of him. “I really like the sound of that,” he said, kissing her lightly on the lips.

“Free?” she murmured as she returned his kiss.

“No,” he chuckled, “Bridal suite.”

Chapter Forty-eight

The air was cold and damp and smelled of mold and rotting garbage with an underlying hint of urine.  Despite that, Sean had always liked the feeling of the Grant Park Underground Garage, like an ancient castle, solid and unyielding.  There were usually only a few cars down at the lowest level when he got off work.  Sean liked being down in the bowels of the city. He thought it was an appropriate place for a cop to park.  Kind of like his own personal Bat Cave.

Walking down the center of the garage, he passed from one section to another, the thick concrete walls and faded black numbers on the floor were the only thing that distinguished one area from another. Then he noticed the vapor hovering above the garage floor, like a thin, barely perceptible mist, it was moving towards him from the far end of the garage.
Must have something to do with all this moisture,
he thought.

The concrete wall in the next section was surrounded by a dark puddle.  He started to bypass it, turning and walking around, when he realized it wasn’t rain water.  It was blood.

Pulling out his radio, he swore softly when he realized there was no signal this far down in the garage.  Now he had to make a choice: turn around and get back up or continue on and finally get a chance to catch the bastard.  The choice was easy.

Sean slapped the radio back into its holster and pulled out his gun. He was going to catch the killer.

He slipped past the wall and his stomach turned as he spied the remains of the latest victim.  There was a sparkling gold high heel shoe in the middle of puddle. The victim had been a woman.  There was nothing he could do for her now, but her blood was still putting off steam in the cold spring air.  She hadn’t been dead for long and that meant the killer couldn’t be too far away. 

He saw what looked like a partial footprint in the puddle and turned to see that the track led further into the garage.  He flicked off the safety.  He was going hunting.

He noiselessly jogged in the direction the killer’s path led.  Moving through each new section, he stayed close to the vehicles for cover, listening for any noise that might convey the killer’s whereabouts.

Finally, as he moved to the last section, he heard the slow shuffling footsteps of the killer. 
He must have been wounded
, Sean thought,
to be moving so slowly
.  He crouched low, his gun drawn, and darted alongside a panel van parked in the far corner of the garage.  He inched his way alongside and peered through the driver’s window into the shadowed section ahead.  He saw a shadow.  The guy was a freaking hulk! 

That’s okay, the bigger they are, the harder they fall
.

He sprinted forward. “Police! Freeze!” he screamed, his voice echoing throughout the garage.