He placed a lingering kiss on her jawline. “So, the Pillsbury Dough Boy doesn’t turn you on?” he asked.
She shuddered with delight. “Well,” she exclaimed, clearing her throat. “He never did in the past.”
He grinned and kissed her again. “Let’s see if I can’t just help you change your mind about baked goods.”
She slipped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers into his hair, releasing a small cascade of flour onto both of them. “I just decided that I really love carbs.”
He smiled down at her, his eyelids half closed, his smile lazy. “Well, that’s a bonus for both of us,” he whispered, before he leaned down and crushed his mouth against hers.
The scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls greeted Ian as he strolled down the stairs the next morning. He looked into the kitchen and found Mary scooping the rolls onto a platter and humming softly to herself, her face aglow.
“So, up early this morning, I see,” he said, sauntering over to the counter and helping
himself
to a roll.
“I had a great night’s sleep,” she replied. “Can’t recall when I’ve slept as well.”
“Aye, there’s naught like a bit of smooching and hugging to chase the goblins away, I always say,” he said, winking at her.
Mary blushed. “Shut up and eat your roll,” she ordered.
Grinning, he took a big bite and closed his eyes in ecstasy. “Ah, the woman is a saint,” he moaned, “that’s all I have to say.”
Mary grinned. “Yes, she is and she’s a pretty good cook too.”
Ian chuckled. “Aye, that she is,” he said, placing his elbows on the counter and smiling up at Mary. “And so, darling, aside from the humming and the beaming, how are you really feeling this morning?”
Pulling a couple of saucers and some cups from the cabinet and placing them on the counter, she took a few moments before answering him. “Last night…when Bradley kissed me…I felt like things had returned to normal,” she said slowly. “In the back of my mind I was a little worried I’d start getting flashbacks. But, once we got…going.” She blushed. “I kind of…I didn’t…”
“You were a little too preoccupied to think about the back of your mind?” Ian suggested.
She nodded and rolled her eyes. “Yes, exactly,” she said, “And please stop grinning at me.”
He pushed himself off the counter and walked around it to stand next to her. “I’m grinning because your happiness is contagious,” he said. “There’s naught like a lass in love. But, you need to realize it doesn’t mean everything’s fine about you.”
She nodded. “I know,” she said.
“Small steps.”
“Aye,” he agreed.
“Small steps.”
Just then they heard a noise from upstairs. “Speaking of small steps,” Ian said. “I do believe we are going to be invaded.”
Maggie and Andy hurtled down the stairs. “I smell cinnamon rolls,” Andy announced, “And I’m hungry as a bear.”
“Me too,” Maggie added, “A polar bear.”
“A polar bear?”
Ian asked.
“Cause it’s snowy outside,” Maggie explained.
“Duh,” Mary whispered to Ian, and then in a normal voice, she added, “So, who’s ready for cinnamon rolls and milk?”
“Did you see the ghost at the high school?” Andy asked between bites.
“Aye, we did,” Ian said, “Although I have to say Mary was a wee bit frightened. Of course, I protected her.”
Maggie smiled at Ian. “I wouldn’t be afraid of ghosts,” she said, wiping some frosting from her mouth. “I like ghosts.”
Andy rolled his eyes. “I bet you’d scream your head off if you saw one,” he said.
“Would not,” she replied.
“Would too.”
“Would not.”
Mary looked over at Ian and grinned. “See what you started.”
“Did not,” he replied.
“Did so.”
“Did not.”
“Everyone just shut up!” Mike roared, appearing next to the counter in the kitchen. “You’re making enough noise to wake the dead and I should know!”
“Would too,” Andy said with a triumphant smile, and then he looked around the room. “What?”
Mary and Ian stood in stunned silence and watch Maggie shyly smile at Mike.
“Andy, why don’t you go up and brush your teeth,” Mary said. “I’ll help Maggie with hers down here.”
Andy stuffed the last bit of roll into his mouth and darted up the stairs.
Ian slid into Andy’s chair and turned to Maggie. “So, darling, is there a special reason you’re not afraid of ghosts?” he asked.
She giggled softly and quickly glanced at Mike and then away again. “No.”
“The jigs up sweetheart,” Mike said in his best Bogart impression. “They can see me too.”
Maggie’s eyes went wide with wonder. “Really, you can see Fireman Mike?” she asked.
Kneeling down in front of her chair, Mary faced the little girl. “Yes, we can,” she said. “But how did you know his name was Mike?”
“He’s my guardian angel,” she said with a radiant smile. “He protects me while I sleep so I don’t have to be afraid when Mommy and Daddy aren’t here.”
Mike shrugged. “She needed a drink of water the other night and it was dark in her room,” he explained. “I figured since I was up…”
Mary smiled at him. “That was very sweet of you,” she said. “You make a good guardian angel.”
Turning back to Maggie, she asked, “So, sweetheart, about Fireman Mike, I think it’s probably smart to keep him our secret.”
Maggie sighed and nodded. “I know. Some people just don’t know how to handle ghosts,” she said.
Ian leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Aye, darling, most people don’t know how to handle ghosts, but I can see you do. Perhaps when you’ve grown a bit you can come and work for me.”
“After we’re married?” she asked.
He chuckled, “Aye, after we’re married.”
Mary stood up and offered her hand to Maggie. “Come on; let’s go get your teeth brushed before the bus comes.”
Ten minutes later, the house was finally quiet again. Maggie and Andy had been successfully placed on the bus with their backpacks and lunches. Maggie’s secreted wave at Mike convinced Mary and Ian that she would not be sent to the school psychologist for mentioning she could see dead people.
“Was that crazy or what?” Ian asked
,
closing the door as the bus pulled away from the curb.
“Well, I can tell you one thing,” Mike said. “I’m not the first ghost she’s seen.”
“What?” Mary exclaimed, quickly turning towards him, her hands filled with plates and cups. “Why would you say that?”
“Because when she saw me hovering next to the bed she merely said, ‘Oh, hello,’ rather than ‘AHHHHHHHHHHH.’”
“Aye, that would be a dead giveaway,” Ian said. “No offense intended.”
Mike chuckled.
“None taken.”
Shaking her head, Mary slipped the dishes into the sink and started loading the dishwasher. “I’m not sure this is healthy for her,” she said. “In the real world most little girls her age play with Barbies, not dead people.”
“Of course it’s healthy,” Ian said, popping another piece of cinnamon roll into his mouth. “And it’s bloody fortuitous. She won’t live her life thinking she’s nuts. She’ll understand that other people have her special gift and she’ll have, in a way, a support group.”
Shrugging, Mike floated towards Mary. “He has a point. I think it’s great she’s not afraid of me,” he said. “But she also needs to learn that not all spirits are friendly Fireman Mike. So, I agree, it’s a good thing.”
Mary closed the dishwasher and pressed the button to get it started. “Okay, maybe you’re right,” she said. “But I’m going to speak with her mother about it, just so she knows.”
“That’s a good idea,” Ian said. “Research shows that this kind of gift is passed down through bloodlines. Perhaps Katie is able to see ghosts too.”
“Well, she’s always seemed open to what I do,” Mary agreed. “Perhaps she does.”
“In the meantime,” Ian said. “We’ve got a mystery to solve. How do we go about getting access to the high school after hours?”
“I’ll call Bradley at the office,” Mary said, walking over to the table and reaching for her cell. “I’m sure he’ll be able to…”
“Bradley’s not in the office today,” Mike said, hesitating for a moment.
“Where is he?” Mary asked. “Mike, is something wrong?”
“They’re exhuming Jeannine’s body today,” he replied. “He’s gone into Chicago to be there.”
Mary sat down on a chair and shook her head. “Oh, poor Bradley,” she whispered. “He shouldn’t have to do this by himself.”
“He won’t be by himself,” Mike said. “He went to see Jeannine’s parents yesterday. They’re going to meet him there.”
“I’m so glad,” she said. “They all need closure.”
“He’s was going to tell you,” Mike said. “But I think he got distracted.”
“Aye, and by more than just a flour war,” Ian teased.
Mary sent him a warning glance and then turned back to Mike. “Are you going to be with him?”
“Yeah, I thought I’d hang with him, just in case,” he said.
“Thanks, and if you think…”
“Yeah, if he needs you, I’ll let you know,” Mike agreed before fading away.
“Well, now we have to find another way into that school,” Ian said.
The sun shone brightly, the sky was brilliant blue, but the wind chill brought the temperature down to the mid-teens. Bradley stood at the edge of the cemetery, the wind whipping his overcoat, as he watched the back hoe dig up the grave that stood beneath the marker with Beverly Copper’s name inscribed upon it.
“It should be raining,” Mike said softly, appearing next to him. “It should be overcast and there should be no sun in the sky.”
Bradley nodded and dug his hands further into the pockets of his coat as another strong wind buffeted his body. “No, I think this is better,” he replied, his voice despondent. “She loved the rain. She loved a good thunderstorm. I think it’s much better to have it bitterly cold and harsh today. It suits the event.”
“Got it,” the young man driving the back hoe yelled out.
A group of men who had been standing behind a small mausoleum to deflect the wind made their way to the gravesite. One of the men looked their way and waved to Bradley.
“Who’s that?” Mike asked.
“Mary’s brother, Sean, he’s leading the investigation.”
“Good guy?”
“Yeah.
Yeah, he is.”
Bradley walked over to the gravesite. Sean and another man, a very large man with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, motioned him over. “Bradley, this in Bernie
Wojchichowski , Cook County Coroner. Bernie, this is Police Chief Bradley Alden.”
“Yeah?
We met already, on the phone,” he said, offering a beefy hand for a shake. “You was working with little O’Reilly.”
Suddenly it dawned on Bradley who he was meeting. “Oh, you’re the guy with the nephew,” he said.
“Yeah, and if you don’t do right by my little Mary, me and my nephew are on the next train to Freeport.”
“Freeport doesn’t have a train,” Sean said.
“Okay, well, we’ll get there, all right,” he said. “And my nephew will carry her off whether she likes it or not.”
“She’ll kick his ass,” Sean commented mildly.
Bernie sighed. “Yeah, you’re right, she would.”
He turned to Bradley. “You just do
good
by her, got it?”
Bradley felt his smile beginning to melt his frozen features, “Yeah, I got it.”
“So, how come you’re here?” Bernie asked.
“Jeannine, the body in the grave, she’s Bradley’s wife,” Sean explained before Bradley could say a word.
“Oh, man, that’s tough,” Bernie said, clapping a solid grip on Bradley’s shoulder and moving him toward the grave. “Well, let’s get this over to my office and then we can take a look.”
“But, her parents,” Bradley said.
“Yeah, we know they’re on their way,” Bernie said. “But I always like to take a look at stuff before I let the family look. You get what I’m saying?”
Bradley nodded. “Yeah, of course, that makes sense,” he said, wondering what kind of horrors Bernie had encountered to make him so cautious.
“It
ain’t
always bad stuff,” he reassured Bradley. “It’s just, you know, little stuff, like the skull rolling down next to the feet. Stuff like that freaks people out.”
Bradley cleared his throat, picturing a grinning skull lodged between a corpse’s feet. “Yeah, I could see how that might upset someone.”
Bernie stopped walking and looked intently at Bradley. “You want to be here or do you want to wait a ways back?” he asked. “
Ain’t
no
shame in waiting. This
ain’t
the job; this here’s your wife.”