The box flew through him, but it got his attention and he turned to face her. “I’m sorry, darling, but…damn…that is the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”
“It’s not…”
“Oh, come on now,” he choked. “Three hours? Couldn’t lift my legs? A lot of work for a few moments of fun? Darling, you have to see…”
Mary stopped and finally listened to what she’d said. She placed her hand over her mouth and her face turned beet red. “Oh my,” she gasped.
“Could have been worse,” Mike said.
“How?” Mary asked.
“Well, Bradley,” he said, raising his voice to mimic hers. “Next time I’d like to try a bigger one, because really, the elevation on that one was pretty small.”
He was laughing so hard he had slipped off the couch and was floating across the floor.
“Mike!” Mary said, turning even redder. “That’s not funny.”
Barely able to speak, he shook his head. “Oh, no, Mary, it’s not just funny, it’s hysterical.”
“Stop it right now,” she insisted.
He faded away.
“Good riddance to you,” she yelled into the empty room.
A moment later, Mike reappeared in front of her with a devilish grin on his face. “You could have told him that you slid off and almost hurt yourself.”
Mary gasped. “Get out! Now!”
With his laughter trailing behind him, Mike disappeared just as the door opened and Ian stepped inside.
“Mary, look who I’ve brought home with me.”
Mary turned to see Bradley following Ian into her house.
Chapter Seven
Well, crap! I am so not in the mood for this.
“Um, Mary, I was wondering if I could come in?” Bradley asked.
“Why?” she snapped, “Is there something else you’d like to accuse me of?”
Ian moved in front of Bradley, as if to shield him and pulled his cap off his head. “I have a confession to make,” Ian started, “Last night, when Bradley came to the door. I…”
Bradley quickly moved around Ian. “It wasn’t his fault, I shouldn’t have believed him,” Bradley interrupted.
“It was my fault; I made him think that we’d…” Ian began.
“Wait a moment,” Mary said, holding up her hands and halting their words. “I am really tired of all of this. Ian, what did you say to Bradley last night when he came to the door?”
“I told him you were upstairs getting ready for bed,” he said, sheepishly. “That we were both looking forward to a good night’s sleep.”
“You didn’t tell him that I was getting the guest bedroom ready for you?” she asked.
He shook his head and met her eyes straight on. “No, I didn’t. I made it seem like we were cozying down together.”
“And why would you do that?” she asked, the thread of an idea forming in her head, “As you had barely met me?”
Ian looked away quickly. “I’ve a nasty sense of humor and it seemed the thing to do at the time.”
Mary didn’t hesitate; she punched the speed-dial for her brother’s cell phone and put it on speaker.
“Good morning, Mary,” her brother, Sean, answered cheerfully. “And how are you this fine day.”
“Well, I’m in a bit of a pickle,” she said sweetly. “It seems I’m a fallen woman now. Your friend Ian had his way with me last night.”
“Why the son of a…,” Sean yelled. “He told me he was engaged to be married. He told me I’d have nothing to worry about. He was supposed to get your Bradley a little jealous, that’s all.”
Then the line went quiet for a moment. “Did he hurt you Mary?” he asked. “Are you okay?”
“Damn you, Sean O’Reilly,” Mary said, wiping the tears out of her eyes, “For being both an interfering lout and a tender-hearted bastard. I’m fine, no thanks to you. And I’ll have you know that Ian MacDougal did not lay a hand on me, but he was also not going to tell tales on the likes of you. So I had to trick you into a confession.”
Once again, the line went silent for a moment. She heard a deep sigh.
“Mary, can you forgive me?” Sean asked.
“I’ll think about it and let you know,” she said, and disconnected the call.
Then she turned on Ian. “And I let you into my home,” she said. “I gave you a bed, shared my food with you and you, nothing but a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
“You’re right,” he replied, moving toward the staircase. “I’ll pack my things and be out in a trice.”
“Did I say I was going to throw you out?” she asked.
He stopped in his tracks. “No, but I thought…”
“I gave my word,” she said, quickly glaring at Bradley, “not that it means much these days. But you can stay. However, if I find you meddling in my affairs again, I’ll call your fiancee and let her know that you and I had fun making up the bed the other night.”
“Aye, that’s threat enough to put the fear of God in me,” he said. “I do apologize, Mary. I truly meant you no harm.”
She turned to Bradley. “Do you really have so little faith in me that you could believe one moment I would swear my love to you and the next I’d sleep with another man?”
“I thought I’d chased you away,” he said simply. “I’d dreamt about you and in the dream I remembered that you hadn’t lied about Jeannine. That you had told me all you could, all the way back on New Year’s Day. I’d gotten out of bed and hurried here, to apologize. Then I met Ian at the door and thought I was too late. Can you forgive me?”
The same words Sean used, but it was so much harder to hear them coming from Bradley. She knew she’d forgive Sean. She’d done it hundreds of times in her life. But Bradley? He had such power to hurt her, to break her heart.
She closed her eyes against the tears. She was not going to cry. Bradley Alden was not going to make her cry again.
Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and faced him. She owed him at least the chance she’d given Sean. “Bradley, I’ll think about it and let you know.”
He nodded. “That’s fair. Thank you. So, where do we go from here?”
“We move forward,” she said. “And we work on solving Jeannine’s case.”
As if on cue, Jeannine appeared in the room across from Mary. Her face was streaked with tears and she was visibly trembling. “Mary, I remembered,” she cried. “I remembered and it was awful.”
Chapter Eight
There was complete silence in the room when Jeannine finished sharing her memory. Bradley sat on the recliner in the corner of the room, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together and his head bowed. Mary could feel the tension in his body from across the room. She understood his anger and his frustration, as a cop she’d been very familiar with those feelings, especially when a good collar got away because of a technicality in court. A technicality that had more to do with an under-the-counter payment than bad police work.
But what she knew she could never truly understand was the underlying guilt Bradley was experiencing. Jeannine had been his wife; he was supposed to protect her and their unborn child. In his mind, he’d failed. And now, hearing how she’d been treated, it had to be eating him alive.
Okay, she’d given him a few minutes to brood, but now they had to put together a plan. “So, it’s obvious this person knew both you and Bradley,” Mary said. “And they had access to your home because you were taken from your house to this other place.”
“I suppose,” Jeannine said. “But why would one of our friends do something like this?”
Bradley suddenly stood and strode out of the room.
Jeannine turned to Mary. “He has to know he did everything he could,” she said. “He searched for me for years.”
“Yes, he did,” Mary agreed. “But finding out that you were taken by a neighbor and were probably kept close by is making him second guess everything he did. Even if he did everything right.”
“Would you talk to him?” she asked. “I think coming from a former police officer, he might actually listen.”
Mary nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be right back.”
The backdoor was unlocked and when she looked through the window, she saw Bradley standing at the railing, staring up into the night’s sky. She grabbed a coat from a hook and slipped out the door to join him.
The temperature was below freezing and Mary wondered if he even noticed. She stood next to Bradley and tried to follow his gaze upwards. “That’s Orion,” she said.
He turned to her. “Excuse me?”
She pointed to the constellation above them. “Orion, the Hunter,” she said. “That’s him up there.”
“How ironic,” Bradley muttered, turning and leaning against the railing. “Too bad he wasn’t available eight years ago.”
“Were you the only one on the case eight years ago?” Mary asked.
“No, there was an official investigation, I wasn’t allowed on that one,” he said. “My chief felt I was too close.”
“And they didn’t find her either,” she said. “Did they?”
“That doesn’t matter, Mary,” he said. “Did you hear what he did to her? Did you hear how he drugged her? How he touched her? And all because I didn’t find her.”
“Okay, listen, I can’t crawl into your body and try to figure everything’s that’s going on in there,” she said. “But I do know we have a fresh angle on a creep who killed eight years ago. For all we know he’s still kidnapping women and subjecting them to the same torture Jeannine just told us about. So, I understand you feel like you let her down. I understand you’re frustrated. But, right now, we’ve got to put together a plan to catch this guy so he never does it again and so Jeannine can finally be at peace.”
Bradley closed his eyes and stood still in the cold night air. He finally took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Steely resolve filled his eyes, replacing the anger and self-contempt. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s go in and figure out how to catch this bastard.”
They joined Ian and Jeannine in the front room. Mary slipped down next to the fireplace and Bradley sat back in the recliner on the edge of the room.
Jeannine moved across the room and sat on the floor, next to Bradley. “Are you okay?”
He nodded and turned to her. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you and get you away from him.”
“I know you tried to find me,” she said, tears sliding down her translucent cheeks. “I know you did the best you could. I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger. I thought about breaking out when the drugs were wearing off, but I was so afraid. I’m sorry, I kept thinking there would be a chance, but I guess it never came.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” he said. “I’m sure you did everything you could.”
She smiled at him. “Then you can’t blame yourself,” she repeated. “Because I know you did everything you could.”
He sighed. “But you were so close, if I had only…”
“Stop it,” she demanded. “Right now. No more thoughts of yesterday. It’s done, Bradley. Now we have to move forward. Help me find him. Help me find who did this to me.”
“I promise, I will find him,” he said, and then he glanced over at Mary. “We will find him.”
Mary couldn’t hear what Jeannine and Bradley were discussing, but she liked the look of determination and resolve she saw on his face after the discussion had ended. Good for you, Jeannine.
“Okay, are we ready to talk about this?” she asked.
They all nodded their agreement.
“Good,” Mary said. “Now obviously, Jeannine is the key to finding this guy. Her memories will bring us closer than anything else.”
“Jeannine, what triggered your memories today?” Bradley asked.
“When you left the house, you turned off the lights and closed the door,” she said. “That’s what he would do. He’d leave me in the dark and close the door.”
“I’m sorry,” Bradley began, “I didn’t think…”
“Don’t be sorry,” Jeannine said. “It helped.”
“So, your memory was triggered by being in a similar circumstance,” Mary said. “We could try other stimulus and see if it opens up more memories.”
“Yes, but because she doesn’t have a physical body anymore, we’re limited by the kind of stimuli we can offer,” Ian said. “It has to be more environmental and things that affect only two senses, hearing and sight. Unless I’m mistaken, you don’t have the sense of smell, do you Jeannine?”
Jeannine laughed shortly. “Why no, I don’t. I hadn’t thought of it, but I can’t smell anything.”
“And can you feel heat or cold?”
She shook her head. “No, I can’t.”
“So, we have to be in an environment where sounds and sights can trigger her memories,” Ian said. “There’s something else. It’s never been tried, but it may work.”
“What’s that?” Bradley asked.
“Hypnosis,” Ian suggested. “It’s often used to bring back hidden memories. But there’s been cases where the subject remembers what was suggested to her, rather than what actually happened.”
“What do you mean that it’s never been tried?” Bradley asked.
Ian grinned. “Well, I can’t be sure, but I’m betting hypnosis has never been tried on a ghost. I’m not sure how that would work. You wouldn’t want her beaming out when she was in a trance.”
“Do you know how to hypnotize someone?” Mary asked.
“Aye, I’ve done quite a bit of study in hypnosis, especially as I’ve studied psychic phenomena,” Ian said, “They’ve found that hypnosis can actually aid in the occurrence of many forms of ESP, you ken, Extra Sensory Perception. Hypnotized persons tend to perform better in laboratory tests of clairvoyance, telepathy, and precognition.”