Buried Innocence - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery - Book Thirteen (Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series) (13 page)

Mary knocked on the
door of Bradley’s office and then peeked in. Bradley, his phone to his ear,
smiled at her and motioned her forward. She softly closed the door behind her
and sat in the chair on the other side of his desk.

“Yes, Chris, we’re
pursuing some leads here,” Bradley said into the phone. “I’m willing to share
whatever we discover, and if you could do the same that would be great.”

He paused for a
moment to listen. “Okay, fine,” he replied. “And thanks for the information. I
really appreciate it. Goodbye.”

He hung up the
phone and turned to Mary. “That was Chris Thorne. He was in my unit in the
service. He’s FBI now and has been working with the state’s Cyber Crime
Division. I called him yesterday to tell him that we were following up on what
could be a child trafficking situation, and he just called to tell me that one
of the IP addresses they’ve been tracking for the web streams carried a
different kind of data last night. It connected with a re-homing forum, and the
user name “
pastorswife
” was affiliated with it. The
user connected with someone looking to
re-home
a
little girl. But the rest of the conversation was through private messages, so
they couldn’t get more information.”

“Why don’t they
just get a geographical link to the IP address?” she asked.

“Whoever is
operating this porn site has got some technical abilities,” he said. “They’re
using a proxy server, most likely a VPN or virtual private network, which
encrypts their data and hides their identity. So, they don’t even know if the
IP address is good. For all they know, “
pastorswife
”
could be a well-meaning woman trying to help.”

Mary sighed in
frustration. “Well, at least we have a lead on Liza,” she said.

“Well, yeah, about
that,” Bradley said. “I did a background check on the family we got from the
Larsons
. They live up in Madison, and their record is clean
except for a couple of parking tickets. But it doesn’t seem like they had Liza
for very long. All of their kids are registered to a local school, but there
was never a registration for someone Liza’s age.”

“So, we don’t need
to drive up to Madison?” Mary asked.

Bradley shook his
head. “No, I think a phone call will do it,” he replied picking up the phone.
“I’ll put it on speaker, but I think it would be better if you handled the
interview, especially if the mom answers.”

She nodded and
pulled out a notepad and a pen.

Bradley tapped in
the numbers and set the phone to speaker.

Within a few rings
it was answered.

“Hello?” a woman’s
voice responded on the other line.

“Hi, my name is
Mary O’Reilly. May I speak with Melody
Greyland
?”

“This is Melody.”

“Hi,
Melody.
I’m a private investigator and I’m trying to locate Liza
Parker,” she said.

“Oh, wow, have you
been hired by her parents?” she asked. “Do they want her back?”

“Well, because of
client confidentiality, I can’t really say,” Mary said apologetically. “But I
can tell you it’s something like that.”

“That’s so cool,”
Melody said. “I think kids should be with their natural parents. And Liza was
such a cute kid.”

“So, you knew
Liza?”

“Oh,
sure.
Yeah. She lived with us for a couple of weeks, but it didn’t
really work out,” she said. “So, we were able to find another family to take
her. No big deal.”

Mary saw the anger
and frustration cross Bradley’s face.

“Do you happen to
have the contact information for that family?” Mary asked, keeping her voice
friendly and light.

“Sure do,” she
said. “Bruce, my husband, said we needed to keep it with our important papers
in case something went wrong and we needed to prove that they accepted
guardianship. He was real worried that if she got sick or something, someone
would come after us for payment.”

“Well, that was
really smart of him,” Mary said.

“Yeah, he’s always
thinking of stuff like that,” she agreed. “He wanted to be a lawyer. I actually
have it scanned on our computer. Do you just want me to email you a copy?”

“That would be
great,” Mary said, offering her email address.

“I’ll send it to
you right away,” Melody said. “Do you need anything else?”

“Do you remember
anything about the family she went to?” Mary asked. “It might make things
easier when I talk to them.”

“Oh, yeah, they
were great,” she said. “He was a pastor, really into helping kids and teaching
them about God. They had just come back from a trip to some country where they
helped run an orphanage. They missed the children so much they decided to adopt
some children of their own. Isn’t that great?”

“Yes, that sure is
great,” Mary repeated. “You don’t happen to remember their user name, do you?”

Melody laughed.
“How could I forget it?” she asked. “It was “
pastorswife
.”
Cute, huh?”

“Yeah, real cute,”
Mary said. “Thanks again, Melody.”

“Hey, no problem,”
she said. “Oh, if you see Liza, tell her Melody says hi.”

Mary nodded. “I
will,” she said. “Goodbye.”

Bradley pressed a
button and disconnected the phone. For a few moments neither of them said a
word, just stared at the phone in the middle of the table. “She didn’t even
give Liza a second thought,” Mary finally said. “It just didn’t work out. I
can’t believe someone would say that.”

“I have a feeling
background checks on the good pastor and his wife aren’t going to turn up
anything,” Bradley said. “But at least we can report back that the user name “
pastorswife
” has been used before in a re-homing
situation.”

“We can say more
than that,” Mary said. “We can tell them they murdered Liza.”

Bradley shook his
head. “Not unless we have a body and proof they did it,” Bradley said. “A body
just tells us that she was buried in an unmarked grave. Anyone could have
buried her. They could have buried her after she died of a disease. No one has
reported her missing. There is no investigation. We have to be very careful
with this one, Mary. We need to be sure we have solid proof.”

Bradley hung up his
phone, sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s not good
news, is it?” Mary asked.

For the past hour,
Bradley had been on the phone with his friend Chris and various other law enforcement
agencies along the Illinois, Iowa and Wisconsin borders to see if they had any
information that would help bring them closer to the location of the phony
minister and wife.

He shook his head.
“So far it’s a dead end,” he said. “Most people who give children away really
don’t like to get the police involved. And it looks like this couple is smart,
so they’ve covered their tracks.”

The phone rang
before Mary could respond, and Bradley picked it up.

“Chief Alden,” he
said and then waited while the caller identified himself. “Thanks for calling
back. I’m working on a case, potential child trafficking, and I’ve got a couple
of persons of interest who are posing as a minister and his wife. The MO seems
to be that they pick up adopted kids whom the parents want to re-home and then
traffic them. I’m looking for anything that might lead us to their location.”

He paused a moment,
and his eyes widened with interest. “What? You’re kidding,” he said, excitement
growing in his voice. “This is great. Yeah, if you could get me their
information, I’ll give them a call. It sure sounds like a match. And if you
wouldn’t mind forwarding their descriptions on to the FBI, I think they’d be
interested, too.”

Grabbing a notepad
and a pen, he quickly jotted down some information. “Hey, thanks a lot,” he
replied. “Yeah, you have a good one, too.”

“What?” Mary asked
as soon as he hung up the phone.

“It was the Clinton
Police Department,” he said. “A guy called yesterday and said he and his wife
met with a couple at a restaurant at the edge of town. They had been thinking
about
re-homing
their adopted daughter but changed
their mind. He said the minister got pretty irate and didn’t act like a
minister, in his opinion. He said both of them
creeped
him out and seemed to look guilty, so he called.”

“Oh, wow, that’s
great,” Mary said. “That’s got to be our guys.”

Bradley picked up
the phone and dialed. “There’s only one way to find out.”

A few minutes later
Bradley hung up his phone and sat back in his chair. “They got nothing,” he said.
“No license plate, no identification, no address, no phone number. These creeps
really know how to cover their tracks.”

Mike appeared in
the office and looked from Mary to Bradley. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“We thought we had
a lead on the people who killed Liza,” Mary explained, “but it was a dead end.”

“So, what do we
know?” Mike asked.

“We know there’s a
couple out there, posing as a minister and his wife who are adopting children,”
Bradley said. “And they are active along the Mississippi River area.”

“We know that this
couple adopted Liza and killed her,” Mary added. “That was the man of God who
hurt her.”

“We know they are
still trying to adopt children in the area,” Bradley added. “They had a failed
attempt yesterday, and it looks like they were on the Internet last night
trying to find another child.”

“We have a good
description of the two of them that’s been forwarded to the FBI,” Bradley said.
“And I’m sure they’ll be running them through their database, but these two are
smart. I don’t think they’ll find anything.”

Mary shook her
head. “So what do we do now?”

“Well, if it were
me,” Mike said, “I’d ask Liza.”

“Ask Liza what?”
Bradley asked.

“Where they buried
her,” he said.
“Or where she lived.”

Mary shook her
head. “She was only five, she wouldn’t…”

She stopped and
stared at Mike for a moment. “You’re brilliant,” she said. “Liza won’t
remember, but Donna and Ryan will remember where they first met Liza. It can’t
be too far from where she was buried. She wouldn’t have wandered that far on her
own.”

Bradley nodded.
“Yeah, she only came with Ryan when he asked Donna if Liza could come home with
them,” he agreed. “That’s got to be our starting place.”

“Let’s just hope
Ryan and Donna weren’t in Florida when it happened,” Mike said.

Mary pulled out her
cell phone. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

Bradley drove the
cruiser through the town of Galena, past the downtown area and to the other
side of town where he turned left on a small rural road that led almost
directly west. They drove past farms and fields with corn stalks reaching over
six feet high. Further down the road, the farms were interspersed with small
woods as the road curved around a sharp bend.

“Okay, Donna said
her dad’s farm was just at the end of this bend,” Mary said, “on the right-hand
side.”

Slowing the
cruiser, Bradley found the nearly hidden driveway and pulled up the long lane
to the farmhouse. Before he could turn off the car, a man in his late fifties
walked out the front door and watched them from the top step of the wide,
wraparound porch.

Bradley got out of
the car first and walked around the car, putting himself between the man and
Mary. “Hi,” Bradley called, lifting his hand to shade it from the bright,
midday sun. “Are you Donna’s dad?”

The man nodded and
slowly came down the steps. “Yep, I am,” he said slowly.
“You
that psychic person from Freeport?”

Biting back a
smile, Bradley shook his head. “No, that would be my lovely wife,” he said.
“I’m the Chief of Police in Freeport.”

He shook his head.
“So that’s why there’s a police car in my driveway,” he said. “I wondered about
that.”

Mary slipped out of
the car and joined Bradley. “Hello, Mr. McIntyre,” she said. “I’m Mary. I’ve
met your daughter Donna and your grandson Ryan.”

Nodding, he studied
her. “So Donna tells me,” he said. “She said you’re helping her out.”

“Yes, I hope to
help her,” Mary said, “and the little girl Ryan met.”

“I seem to remember
him mentioning her to me,” he said hesitantly. “How much are you charging her
to do this?”

Knowing he was only
trying to protect his family, Mary took a deep breath and pushed the anger
away. “I’m not charging them anything,” she said. “I’m not a fraud or a
con-woman; I just investigate things like this.”

Yeah, that’s what
Donna said, too,” he replied, coming forward to shake her hand. “I just needed
to make sure myself. So, what can I do to help?”

“Donna thought that
Ryan met Liza here, when he was visiting,” Mary explained. “All we want to do
is investigate the areas of your property where Ryan might have played.”

He brought his hand
to his hips and gazed out over his property. “Well, he and I have purt near
covered every inch of my 150 acres. But, as I recall, the day he found his
invisible friend we were out near the river fishing.”

“Where’s the river
from here?” Bradley asked.

Mr. McIntyre
pointed through the woods. “It’s down that path about a mile or so,” he said.
“You can use the ATV to get down there, and then you’ll have to walk the river
path. We were up and down that river all day.”

Mary looked down
the narrow path that seemed to disappear into the thick woods. “We just follow
that path until we get to the river?” she asked.

A half-smile grew
on the man’s face. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “And if you get wet, you’ve gone a
bit too far.”

Bradley chuckled.
“We appreciate the loan of your ATV,” he said, “and we’ll bring it back to you
in good shape.”

“If you want, I can
hook up the boat trailer to it,” the man offered. “Not much of a boat, just a
rowboat, but
it’s
better than wading.”

“We’d appreciate
it,” Bradley said. “You never know where something like this will lead.”