Buried Innocence - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery - Book Thirteen (Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series) (7 page)

BOOK: Buried Innocence - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery - Book Thirteen (Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series)
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Chapter Fourteen
 

Mary counted her
blessings when she found a parking spot right in front of Amelia’s shop. The
bells above the door jingled as she walked in, and Amelia hurried out of the
backroom.

“Oh,
Mary.
Hi,” she said. “It’s great to see you back so soon.”

“Hi Amelia,” Mary
said, returning Amelia’s smile. “I have another case here in Galena, and I was
looking for some information.”

“Pull up a chair,”
Amelia said, “and I’ll be happy to give you any information I can.”

“Okay, well, this
is a weird one,” Mary began.

“What’s not weird
when you and my wife are involved together,” Andy, Amelia’s husband, said as he
walked in from the back room.

Mary smiled at him.
“Well, okay, you have an excellent point there,” she admitted. “But this one is
really different.”

Andy pulled up a
chair and sat down with them. “Okay, spill it,” he said.

“Earlier in the
week, when I was here, I saw another ghost,” she said. “But when I first saw
him, I only saw half of his body.”

“Half
his body?”
Amelia repeated
,
wrinkling her nose
is distaste. “That’s disgusting.”

“Well, it’s not
like I saw him chopped in half,” Mary amended. “It’s like the other half of his
body was stuck in the ground, and I could only see him from the waist up.
Like he was underground.”

Andy shrugged.
“Well, that’s not too hard to believe considering Galena is filled with old
mine shafts and crevices,” he said.

“Old mine shafts?”
Mary asked.

Nodding, Andy sat
forward in his chair. “Yeah, there were a lot of miners who just had small,
one-person mines,” he said. “They were deep and narrow, just big enough for one
person and their equipment. They’re all over the place.”

“But he’s not old
enough to be a miner,” Mary said. “He’s wearing pretty contemporary clothing.”

“What’s his name?”
Amelia asked.

“Steve,” Mary said.
“But he can’t remember his last name.”

“What else is
significant about him?” Andy asked.

Mary paused. “Well,
okay, but this is going to sound really gross,” she said.

“Cool,” Andy
replied.

Laughing, Mary
shook her head. “Okay, you asked for it,” she said. “It seems to me that a
portion of his body was actually decomposing before he died. I don’t know how
that could happen.”

Andy sat back in
his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Well, this might add to the
grossness of this conversation,” he said. “But because of how hard it was to
run city sewer lines to a lot of the houses on the tops of the bluffs or the
hills, especially the big houses on streets like Prospect, many of the houses
just emptied their sewer lines into the old mine shafts or the crevices in the
rock.”

“That’s really
disgusting,” Amelia said. “That can’t be true.”

Shaking his head,
Andy looked at his wife. “Disgusting and true,” he said. “When I did some
construction work, we often ran into some of the old houses that still had
their lines just dumping straight down. And occasionally, we’d run into an old
mine that had just been covered over with wood boards and sod.”

“Boards
and sod?”
Mary asked, surprised. “But when the wood rots…”

“Yeah, it can be a
nasty surprise,” Andy agreed.

“How deep were the
mines?” Mary asked.

“Sometimes the
shafts were forty or fifty feet deep,” he said. “They would often have offshoot
tunnels where the actual mining went on every twenty feet or so.”

“That’s really
dangerous,” Amelia said.

“Well, most of them
are filled in now,” Andy reassured her. “But since there was no record of where
all the mines were located, every so often a new one is located.”

“If Steve had
fallen down one of the shafts, what are the chances that his remains could be
located?” Mary asked.

Andy shrugged. “I
guess it depends on how far he fell,” he said. “And what he fell into.”

“I really didn’t
want that mental picture,” Amelia said.

“Sorry,” he
apologized.

“Well, this
explains a lot,” Mary said. “Why his body was in the condition it was in, why
he’s half in and half out of the ground. Now all I have to do is find out his
last name and where he might have lived before he died.”

“Missing persons?”
Amelia suggested.

Mary nodded. “Yes,
I’ll try there first,” she said, standing up. “Thanks for your help. I’m really
glad you were here, Andy.”

“Hey, no problem,”
he replied. “Any friend of Amelia’s is a friend of mine.”

Chapter Fifteen
 

The drive from East
Dubuque to Clinton Iowa took a little over an hour along the scenic Mississippi
River. But the occupants of the car were not interested in the view; they were
more concerned with perfecting their story before they met with the adoptive parents
of their next transaction. Joey and Gigi Amoretti had found their own private
treasure trove in the naïve and desperate parents on an Internet list who had
adopted children they could no longer handle. Many of the children had been
international adoptions and were older children who had a hard time adapting to
their new parents and their new surroundings. Posing as a well-meaning pastor
and his compassionate wife, Joey and Gigi sympathized with the overwhelmed
parents and offered their home as one of refuge for the struggling youth.

Had any of the
parents taken the time to do a background check on the two, they would have
found a history of criminal activity from petty theft to embezzlement. They
would have learned that the good minister Joseph Amoretti was in reality Little
Joey Amoretti with connections to the mob. But, much to the dismay of his
parents, Little Joey had been a failure in the organized crime community. Gigi’s
father saw a way to unload his daughter before she brought too much public
notoriety to the family. He made a deal with Joey. Joey took care of Gigi and
found her an outlet for her “unique” hobbies, and Daddy made sure they were
both taken care of.

Joey moved Gigi out
of the city and bought her a farm where he thought she’d be happy. They were
working with the family in Chicago moving stolen goods through an Internet site
when they happened upon the adoption thread and found, to their amazement,
people who were willing to turn over their adopted daughters to strangers.

“Now remember,
Joey,” Gigi repeated. “We just got back from a mission trip to Haiti, and we
discovered how much we loved the people there.”

“Don’t we need to
speak the language?” Joey asked. “What is it
Haitianese
?”

“No, you idiot,”
she snapped. “The people of Haiti speak French and Creole. So, we just tell
them that we had an interpreter work with us, but we are trying to learn
French.”

“What if they know
French?” he asked. “What do we do then?”

“We tell them we
just started the lessons,” she said.

“But shouldn’t we
know something?” he asked. “Like a phrase?”

Rolling her eyes,
she sighed loudly. “Yes, we should,” she said. “
Which is why
I gave you that list of French phrases to study last week.

Joey nodded slowly.
“Oh, yeah, I remember,” he said. “Parsley
view
Francine.”

“That’s
parlez
vous
francais
?”
she huffed and then shook her head. “Maybe we should just say that I’m trying
to learn French.”

Joey nodded
eagerly. “Yeah, because I’m too busy helping folks because I’m a minister and
everything,” he said.

“Yes, I think that
will work,” she replied. “Besides, this couple seems so desperate I don’t think
they are going to question much. Do you have the paper from the social worker?”

“You mean the one
you wrote?” he asked.

“Of course I mean
the one I wrote,” she replied. “Did you print it off using the stolen Illinois
State stationery?”

“Yeah, it looks
real. Just like a social worker actually came to our house,” he laughed. “Damn,
this is such a great scam. We take kids off the hands of parents who don’t want
them, and we put them in the hands of people who
really
want them.”

Gigi nodded. “And
the fact most of them can’t speak English is genius,” she said. “We should
really try and adopt only foreign ones from now on. American ones get lippy,
like that little know-it-all Liza.”

Joey shuddered
inwardly. He didn’t mind the sex or even the violence. It made him feel
powerful. But the things Gigi had him do to that little girl while she watched
went further than he’d ever gone before. Every time he closed his eyes he could
see the look on Gigi’s face as he choked the life out of the five-year-old. She
had relished every moment of it.

“Yeah, she was a
know-it-all,” he agreed. “But we took care of her.”

Her sudden,
uncharacteristic, childlike giggle caused a chill to run down Joey’s spine.

“Yes, we did take
care of her,” she laughed. “We showed her. But next time, Joey…”

He glanced over at
her from the driver’s seat. “Yes?”

“Next time, I want
to help.”

They arrived in
Clinton and found the local restaurant where the young couple arranged to meet
them. Exiting the car, Joey straightened his shirt, adjusting the white collar
underneath, and slipped his suit jacket over it. Gigi patted her hair and sent
a tender smile in Joey’s direction, just in case the couple was watching them.
They walked, arm in arm, through the doorway of the restaurant and paused to
locate the couple.

Chapter Sixteen
 

The Galena Police
Department was located a few blocks up Main Street from Amelia’s storefront.
Since the day was lovely and good parking spots were hard to come by, Mary
decided to walk up the few blocks to the station. Over 40 years ago, the
original town limits, primarily the downtown area, were placed on the National
Register of Historic Districts. This meant that those buildings within the
boundaries had to look as they did in the mining boomtown days of the 1850s. So
any exterior work to a building needed to comply with the Historic Preservation
Ordinance. This kept the downtown area of the City of Galena, in Mary’s
opinion, quaint and cozy. And even though shop windows might advertise the
newest offerings in technology or gourmet foods, the ambiance was friendly and
welcoming.

Hot summer sun
reflected off concrete sidewalks and cobblestoned streets, and Mary felt drops
of perspiration on her forehead by the time she’d climbed the three uphill
blocks.

“Well, at least the
way back will be downhill,” she murmured as she crossed the final side street.

“Funny, I haven’t
had a problem with the walk at all,” Mike said, floating next to her.

“Mike,” she said.
“Shut up.”

The offices of the
police department were housed in a stately, brick building that Mary thought
might have been one of the original city banks.
 
The thick stone and brick façade certainly looked like they were protecting
something of value. She stepped up into the doorway and pulled open the heavy,
oak door. Immediate relief in the form of very modern air conditioning greeted
her, and she made her way to the offices housing the police department. She and
Bradley had met Galena’s chief of police, a very capable police woman, at a law
enforcement function, but Mary decided against asking for personal favors.
She’d just as soon ask the clerk for help.

She pushed open the
door to the department and waited on the other side of the counter for help.
Mike floated through the door and waited next to her. Within moments, a young
police officer greeted her.

“Hello, can I help
you?” he asked.

Mary nodded. “Yes,
thank you. I’m interested in missing persons’ files from Galena in the past
twenty years,” she said. “All I have is a first name and an approximate
description to go by.”

“Are you related to
this person?” the officer asked.

Shaking her head,
Mary smiled at the officer. “No, I’m not,” she explained. “I’ve just recently
been asked to look into his disappearance, and I really don’t have a whole lot
to go on.”

She pulled out her
private investigator’s license and showed it to him. He studied it for a moment
and then met her eyes. “Aren’t you the P.I. who helped with the murder case
connected with the former mayor of Freeport last year?” he asked.

“See, he knows
you,” Mike said. “Obviously he’s impressed.”

“Yes, that was me,”
she replied, praying that he hadn’t heard about her literal run-in with the
fort in Elizabeth.

“There were some
pretty crazy rumors circulating about that case,” he said, still watching her
eyes.

Mike snorted,
“Crazy rumors?
You?
How strange.”

“Well, yes, there
were, weren’t there,” she replied easily, steadily returning his gaze and
ignoring Mike. “Was there anything you’d like to ask me about those rumors?”

A slow smile spread
across his face, and he shook his head. “No, ma’am,” he said. “It was damn good
investigating no matter how it got done.”

Her smile widened.
“Why, thank you,” she replied.

He turned to his
computer and typed on his keyboard, then looked up at her. “The first name?” he
asked.

“Steve,” she
replied with a grateful smile.

“How old do you
think he was at the time of his disappearance?”

Mary closed her
eyes for a moment, picturing the ghost. “I’d say early to mid-thirties,” she
finally replied. “And he had a family with small children.”

The officer typed
the information into the search form. “How tall would you say he was?”

“Close to six feet
tall,” she said, “with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes.”

The officer nodded,
keeping his eyes on the screen. “And when did you say he went missing?”

“Well, now, that’s
the tricky part,” she replied, nervously biting her lower lip. “It could have
been anytime from the sixties until today.”

His fingers stilled
on the keyboard, and he looked at her. “Ma’am, that’s more than a fifty year
time period,” he said slowly.

“I think he’s
getting a little worried,” Mike whispered.

She shrugged
apologetically. “Yeah, I know,” she said. “Sorry I can’t be more specific.”

He studied her for
a moment longer and then turned and entered the information. “Is he deceased?”
he asked.

“Yes, but you
wouldn’t know that,” she blurted without thinking.

“Uh oh, bad answer,
Mary,” Mike said.

Looking up again,
he lifted his hands from the keyboard. “Would you like to explain that comment,
ma’am?” he asked.

“I’d really rather
not,” she said honestly. “But if you want me to, I will.”

“I won’t like it,
will I?” he asked.

She shrugged again.
“Well, it just depends on whether or not you believe in ghosts,” she replied.

“Is honesty the
best policy?” Mike wondered aloud. “I guess we’re going to find out.”

He stared at her a
moment longer, thought about it, sighed, and then turned back to his keyboard
and entered the information. “Deceased, unknown,” he said as he typed.

Keeping an eye on
Mary, he surreptitiously slipped his left hand under the counter and pressed a
small button mounted on the underside of the counter. Then, in plain sight, he
moved the mouse over the search button, clicked and turned to Mary. “Now all we
have to do is
wait
,” he said.

BOOK: Buried Innocence - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery - Book Thirteen (Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series)
10.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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