Veiled Passages (8 page)

Waving her hand at the waitress and lifting her wine glass in the air, Sally complained to the rest of the table, “Really, it’s not like there’s anyone else in here.”

“She was always a little impatient with servers,” Peter said. “Which always surprised me because she was a waitress for many years.”

“Sally was a waitress?” Mary blurted out, surprised, and then covered her mouth with her hand. “Oops.”

Turning towards Mary, Sally stared at her. “How did you know that?”

“Come on, Sally,” Tracey said. “Mary is a Private Investigator.  Any of our characters would have done background checks before they arrived at a meeting like this. Of course she knows you were a waitress.  That isn’t exactly classified information.”

Sally sniffed. “It was a long time ago,” she said.

Honora nodded her head, her dangling earrings clinking as she did. “Oh, yes, a long time ago,” she agreed helpfully. “When Sally was still young.”

Mary quickly lifted her soda to her lips to hide her smile.  She took a sip, schooled her features and placed her drink back on the table. “Okay, why don’t we try this again,” she suggested. “How long did you know Peter?”

“I met Peter a couple years before his death,” Tracey said. “We met through this convention. We spoke a few times, nothing more.”

“I hit on her and she turned me down,” Peter said. “Damn shame.”

“I understand Peter was interested in you,” Mary said. “Could that interest have sparked a jealous reaction from anyone else?”

Tracey laughed and leaned back in her chair. “Peter hit on anything in a skirt,” she said. “I never took him seriously and I doubt anyone else did either.”

“He never hit on me,” Honora said.

“She had too many psychic friends with her,” Peter said. “I don’t operate in a crowd.”

“It was probably because of your spiritual sensitivity,” Mary suggested. “It might have spooked him.”

“It was more likely because he thought you were a kook,” Sally inserted. “Psychic contacts? Really Honora?”

“Now there is a woman who knew how to play games,” Peter said. “Sally was exotic in more ways than one.”

“Sally, I understand that your relationship with Peter was more of a…personal one…than either Tracey or Honora,” Mary said.

“You slept with Peter?” Honora asked, aghast. “But I thought you hated him.”

Tracey pulled a slim breadstick out of the container in the middle of the table and tapped her lips with it. “There’s a fine line between love and hate,” she said. “When did you stop sleeping with him?”

Enraged, Sally glared at Mary. “I don’t know where you’re getting your information,” she spat. “But you’re wrong. He and I never…we never…”

“Did the wild thing?” Honora inserted helpfully, her high-pitched voice slightly tremulous.

Peter snorted. “Ask her if she remembers Dubuque?”

“I have information about a brief…liaison…in Dubuque,” Mary said, watching Sally’s face go white.

“How could you…how do you…?” Sally stuttered.

“She’s better than you thought, isn’t she?” Tracey asked Sally. “Perhaps we ought to start helping her and stop trying to protect ourselves.”

Picking up a napkin, Sally blotted her face and nodded. “Yes, I suppose we should.”

“Excellent,” Mary said, sending a grateful smile to Tracey. “Now, tell me, why would someone want to murder Peter?”

“There are many reasons,” Sally said, “Probably too many to enumerate.  But that evening, the main reason would have been his announcement that the money we gave him to ensure a publication contract for our books had fallen through.”

“None of you were going to be published?” Mary asked.

Honora shook her head. “No, there must have been at least twenty-five of us in the group that had been promised a contract,” she said. “All we wanted was to be published and Peter held the key.”

The alarm went off on Mary’s phone and she quickly silenced it. “Continue,” she requested.

“What’s the alarm for?” Tracey asked.

Shrugging, Mary blushed slightly. “It’s nothing,” she said, “I have a date tonight.”

Tracey sat back in her chair. “A date with somebody important?”

“My fiancé,” Mary replied casually. “My mother’s in town and she insisted we go on a date before we’re married.”

Sally turned quickly, her chair scraping on the floor. “You’re engaged and you haven’t even dated the man?”

Mary shook her head. “It’s not like that,” she said. “We’re both in law enforcement, he’s Chief of Police and I do private investigation. Life just seems to get in the way whenever we schedule anything.  The last time we were supposed to go out a train derailed.”

“It was a sign,” Honora said. “Are you sure you are supposed to marry this man?”

Blushing again, she nodded her head. “Oh, yes, I’m very sure,” she said.

Just as she finished her comment, the door to the restaurant opened and Bradley walked in. He looked around the room and, when he found Mary, he smiled and walked over to their table. “Hi,” he said softly. “Your mom said I’d find you here.”

Her smile grew broader. “Hi,” she replied, and then turned to the women at the table. “This is Police Chief Bradley Alden, my fiancé. Bradley, this is Tracey, Sally and Honora.  They are all mystery writers who are helping me with this case.”

“Nice to meet you, ladies,” he said with a slight nod and then he turned to his fiancée. “Mary, I just have a quick question.”

“Sure,” she said.

“How do you feel about Italian food?” he asked.

“I feel very good about Italian food,” she replied.

He smiled and nodded. “Great.  I’ll pick you up at six, okay?”

“Okay. See you then.”

The table was silent until Bradley left the restaurant.

“That was your fiancé?” Honora asked. “Oh, my, his aura is very powerful.”

Tracey snorted. “She means he’s hot,” she added. “So he’s picking you up at six?”

Mary nodded and bit her lower lip. “Yes, I guess so.”

Tracey looked down at the watch on her wrist. “Oh, wow, look at the time,” she said, “I had no idea it was so late. I’m sorry, Mary, but we’re going to have to reschedule.”

Mary smiled, but stayed firm. “No, that’s very nice of you,” she said. “But it’s important to continue this conversation.”

Sally stood up and hooked her purse over her shoulder. “I find that I too am fatigued,” she said, covering her mouth as she yawned. “I will be more than happy to continue this tomorrow morning.  Shall we say 10:00?”

“But…but…we were just getting to the good part,” Mary insisted. “Really, we can keep going.”

“No, I think we need a place that’s more conducive to friendly spirits,” Tracey suggested. “And we need to meet tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, well, that’s a good idea,” Honora said. “Where?”

The other two women looked expectantly at Mary. “Oh. Oh, um, my house,” she blurted. “Yes, we can all meet at my house tomorrow morning at 10.”

“Perfect,” Tracey said, jotting down her phone number on a napkin. “I’ll drive. Why don’t you text me your address and the rest of us can meet in the lobby at 9:45.”

“That would be great,” Mary responded, wondering when she totally lost control of the situation.

“Good night, Mary,” Tracey said as the ladies walked out of the restaurant. “Have fun tonight.”

Chapter Fifteen

Mary stood in front of her bedroom mirror and frowned.  The black dress hugged her curves and fell just above her knees. Her sheer black stockings and spiked high-heels added a shot of sexy, and her diamond earrings and necklace added glamour.  But something was missing.

She heard the low wolf whistle before Mike appeared in her room behind her. “Are angels allowed to whistle like that?” she asked, looking at him through the mirror.

“Yeah, well, I’m still not too clear on everything that’s in the handbook,” Mike said with a shrug, “But you look hot.”

She looked at herself again, biting her lower lip. “Something’s missing,” she said.

Mike walked over and looked her up and down. “Okay, you got your stop-his-heart dress, your how-damn-long-are-her-legs heels and your sophisticated-but-sexy jewelry,” he said, his chin resting in his hand. “You pretty much covered all the essentials.”

Sighing, she shook her head. “I don’t know what…”

“Wait…I have it,” Mike said.

He started to float towards her bathroom and stopped. “Permission to enter your bathroom,” he requested.

Smiling, she nodded and watched, as a moment later he came back with a small object in his hand. He handed her a tube of lipstick. “Cut-him-off-at-the-knees red lipstick,” he said. “That’s what’s missing.”

Uncapping the tube, she carefully covered her lips with the dark red gloss and then looked at her reflection again.  He was right, the lipstick was the missing ingredient. “Well?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “I know whatever I want to say will not be covered in the angel handbook,” he replied. “But I can’t wait to see old Bradley swallow his tongue when he sees you walking down the stairs.”

Turning away from the mirror, she smiled at him. “Thanks, Mike, that’s just what I needed to hear. But, he won’t see me walking down the stairs because I’m ready and he’s not going to be here for another fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that Bradley was already here?” he asked, looking apologetic. “Must have slipped my mind when I saw you in the mirror.”

Taking a deep breath, she glanced one more time in the mirror. “Okay, well, I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

She left her room and walked down the hall, surprised to discover her palms were sweating. She shook her hands for a few seconds, trying to dry them and then started down the stairs.

She felt a little silly, being anxious about a date with Bradley.  For heaven sakes, she was going to marry him in two weeks.  This was just ridiculous. But when her eyes met his, her stomach tightened and her heart raced. He just stared at her for a long moment, hunger in his eyes, and then slowly sauntered forward. She paused on the step and nervously moistened her lips with her tongue. His gaze narrowed on her mouth and she exhaled softly.

He climbed the few steps in front of her, stopping one step below her. Taking her hand in his, he lifted it and brought it to his lips. “You look amazing,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. “I knew you were beautiful, but I guess I never realized how incredibly sexy you were.”

She smiled, feeling emboldened by his words. “Really? I’m sexy?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, smiling back at her. “Oh, yeah.”

“Mary, you look beautiful,” Clarissa said, coming up to the stair case. “Doesn’t she look beautiful, Grandma?”

“Yes she does,” Margaret said. “And if her brothers were here, they’d insist on going along with them.”

“It’s a good thing for me they’re not here,” Bradley said.

“I could go,” Mike whispered from behind Mary.

“Not a chance,” Bradley whispered back, guiding Mary down the stairs. “You stay home and watch over Clarissa and Margaret.”

He helped Mary with her coat and they walked to the door. “We won’t be too late,” he said.

“Don’t worry about anything,” Margaret said. “Clarissa and I are going to have a fine time of it here.”

Bradley looked down at Mary; she literally took his breath away. “Ready?” he asked.

She nodded. “Let’s go before one of my brothers shows up.”

Chapter Sixteen

He watched as Bradley protectively put his hand on the small of Mary’s back and guided her down the walkway to the waiting car. It should have been his hand on her body, not Bradley’s.  He didn’t deserve her.  He hadn’t deserved Jeannine. 

Eyes narrowed and hate pumping through his body, he watched Bradley place a soft kiss on her lips before helping her into the car.  She was smiling at him.  She was enjoying herself.  He shook his head. No! No, she was only smiling because she was imagining it was he who was kissing her.  She was thinking about him.

If he had only been a little closer, he could have smelled her.  Breathed in the unique perfume that was Mary O’Reilly. Felt the heat rising from her skin.  Watched the pulse beat through the delicate skin in her neck.  Gripping his fist on the steering wheel, he swore. Only a few yards away from her, parked in his former landlord’s ancient sedan, but it was too far away.  However this time, he needed to be sure, needed to be safe.

 The police were looking for Gary Copper’s car; they didn’t care about an old jalopy that looked like it would fall apart in a good wind.  And they were looking for Gary Copper.

Smiling, he looked into the car’s rearview mirror and an elderly man looked back at him.  The makeup kit he had purchased in Madison, as well as the thick white wig, had done wonders.  While the police looked for Gary Copper, he would be helping himself to Mary O’Reilly.

Bradley’s car started and slid out of the space in front of her house.  Should he follow, or should he pay a little surprise visit on Clarissa?

He pondered for only a moment when the urge to see Mary again became too strong and he turned the wheel of the old car and followed them down the street.  He left several cars’ distance between himself and Bradley’s car.  It was much too soon in his plan to have them grow suspicious. He wanted them to feel safe.  He wanted them to become careless.  And then he would get exactly what he wanted… Mary.

Following them to the other side of town, Gary wondered where he would be taking her. 
Were they going to the park again for a moonlight rendezvous?
 

Smiling in anticipation, he thought about the rifle hidden underneath the old wool blanket in the back of the car.  It had been an extra bonus to find that his former landlord had also been a hunter. And, just as he had helped himself to the dead man’s keys, he also helped himself to weapons and ammunition. He had practiced in the fields beyond the edge of town and had been pleased with his progress.  He wondered if it would be harder to pick out his target under the light of the full moon.  He had already had Bradley in his sights once, but just before he could squeeze the trigger, Mary had knocked Bradley over and they had tumbled down the hill, out of his range.