Natural Reaction (9 page)

Mary laughed. “No, I meant about the ghost. It sounds like Dr. Thorne’s father,” she said. “Although I have to say, you did a wonderful job this morning.”

He grinned. “You get to cook tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll just have to bribe Rosie to bring over cinnamon rolls,” she said, rinsing out the pan.

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Ian said. “She cooks like an angel.”

Mary laughed. “I do recall you proposing to her so she’d cook for you,” she said, filling the sink with soap and hot water. “I’d hate to have both Stanley and Maggie upset. Do you think you can control yourself?”

“Aye, I’ll control myself,” he said. “She’s a promised woman now.”

“I wonder if Rosie or Stanley
have
heard about this ghost,” Mary said.

The clatter of feet on the staircase and young voices raised in argument interrupted their conversation. “Can too,” Maggie said.

“Can not!” Andy argued.

Maggie ran over to Ian, her eyes filled with tears. “Andy said I can’t marry you ‘
cause
you live in a castle and since I’m not a princess I can’t live in a castle too.”

Ian knelt down in front of her, brushed her hair away from her face and helped her into her coat. “Well, darling, from what I can see you look like a princess to me,” he said. “So I suppose that settles it.”

She beamed at him and then turned to her brother. “See, Ian says I’m a princess.”

Andy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but…”

Mary knelt down in front of Andy, zipping up the front of his coat. “And if Maggie is a princess, it must mean that you are either a prince or a knight of the realm,” she said. “So, you could visit Ian’s castle too.”

“For real?”
Andy asked, pulling his cap over his ears.

“Aye,” Ian said. “I’m sure I have a sword sitting around the place that’d suit you just fine.”

“Cool!” Andy said, beaming at his sister. “You can get married to him and I’ll be the guard.”

Maggie smiled, pulling her mittens on as Ian placed her hat on her head. “Kay.”

The honk of the bus’ horn interrupted the conversation. “Come on, Maggie, let’s go.”

“Bye!” they yelled as they ran out the front door.

“Bye,” Mary and Ian called, collapsing into the kitchen chairs after the door closed.

“So, are we going to be able to do a week of this?” Mary asked.

Ian grinned. “Do we have a choice?”

Bradley sat down at his desk and looked at the mess surrounding him. During the time he’d spent out of the office watching over Mary, the paperwork seemed to have multiplied threefold. He started to sort the piles into priorities when the phone rang.

“Chief Alden,” he said into the receiver.

“Hey, it’s Sean.”

Bradley sat back in his chair. “Hey, I’m sorry. I forgot to call you yesterday,” he said. “Mary’s out of the hospital. She came home yesterday.”

“Yeah, she called me last night,” he said. “How’s she doing, really?”

Bradley took a deep breath. “Well, physically she’s worn out, but other than that, she’s good. But she’s having some flashbacks.”

“What kind of flashbacks?”

Bradley ran his hand through his hair.
“Rape flashbacks.”

“What the hell?” Sean yelled. “She was raped? I should have let you kill the bastard. Never mind, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Wait Sean, it’s not exactly what you think.”

“How the hell can it not be what I think? She’s having rape flashbacks.”

“Did you know about the hypnosis Ian performed on her?”

“What?”

“The only way they could help Jeannine recover her memory was to hypnotize her, but the only way they could do that was have Mary allow Jeannine to use her body to get hypnotized,” he explained. “So Mary lived through everything Jeannine experienced.”

There was silence on the other end for a few moments. “When will she stop throwing herself in front of every bullet she sees?” he said quietly.

Bradley sighed. “I’m hoping it’s when she becomes my wife.”

“What the…,” Sean sputtered. “You actually asked her?”

“Well, yeah I did,” Bradley admitted. “But she was still asleep.”

Sean burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah, that’s the way to do it. Propose when she’s unconscious.”

“It just slipped out,” he admitted. “It seemed like the thing to do at the time.”

“So, did you ask her again?
Now that she’s awake?”

Bradley leaned forward and rested his head in his hand. “No, I haven’t. I want to give her some time to recover and…”

“What?”

“I want to ask your father permission for her hand in marriage.”

“Hey, that’s nice.”

“It’s what gentlemen do,” he said, his lips turned up in a smile.

“Yeah, well, you tell me when and I’ll make sure all the O’Reilly men are present,” Sean said.

“Thanks,” Bradley replied wryly. “Thanks a lot!”

“No problem,” he teased.

There was another pause, but this time when Sean spoke there was no laughter in his voice.

“Bradley, actually I called because I got the judge’s order. We can exhume the body, I mean Jeannine, tomorrow.”

Bradley’s breath caught in his throat and his stomach clenched.
“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, well, we can put it off if you want.”

He shook his head. “No, no, she’s waited long enough and I can’t search for the baby until we get her identity clarified,” he said. “I have just been so busy with Mary; I haven’t spoken with Jeannine’s parents yet.”

“Like I said, we could wait.”

“Listen, let’s go ahead and schedule it for tomorrow, afternoon, okay?” he said. “I’ll drive down to her parents today and talk to them. If I need to reschedule, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he replied. “Bradley, I’m sorry. I know this is going to be rough.”

“Yeah, but I’m hoping they’ll at least feel some closure, knowing where she is.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks, Sean.”

Mary sat at her desk in her living room flipping through her old address book. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace and Ian was sitting on the couch working on his laptop. She located a number and typed the name into her computer and hit the “Enter” button to perform a search. “Yes!” she said, throwing her fist up in the air.

Ian looked up at Mary over his reading glasses and smiled. “You found a contact?”

She nodded. “Yes, a fellow from DCFS I dated a couple of times.”

“Is he still talking to you after you broke it off with him?”

She shifted on her chair and turned to him. “How would you know that I broke it off with him?” she asked. “He might have dumped me.”

Grinning, he shook his head.
“Only if he were a fool, both blind and daft.”

“You say the nicest things,” she replied, her cheeks turning slightly red.

“Ach, Mary, me love, I only speak the truth,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. “And would you be thinking about making lunch this afternoon?”

She snorted. “Okay, you just ruined everything,” she said, “All that sweet talking for a bowl of chili.”

“Is it chili you’d be making for lunch today?” he said, shifting on the couch. “Well, that’s a meal a man can get used to having daily. Would you be making those wee corn muffins with it?”

She laughed. “Yes, I can make corn muffins too,” she said. “Let me make this call first,
then
I’ll get things going for lunch.”

He looked back down at his computer screen and started tapping on the keyboard. “Just so you know,” he said, not looking at her. “The food had nothing to do with the statement about the laddie. You’re
a fair
bonnie lass, Mary O’Reilly.”

“Thank you, Ian MacDougal,” she replied. “And you’re a fine
braw
laddie yourself.”

He raised his eyes over his glasses and stared at her, surprised.

“What? Do you think you’re the only one who can speak Scottish?” she asked.

Grinning, he lowered his eyes to the screen. “The Internet is a grand place, isn’t it Mary?”

She chuckled. “Aye, it is, Ian.”

“Speaking of the Internet,” Ian said. “I’ve done a bit of research into the explosion at the high school. Sean’s been helpful getting some fire records opened for me.”

“And?”
Mary asked.

“It’s a strange bit of work, here,” he said. “The initial fire report has been redacted, all kinds of interesting black marks appearing on the pages, especially when the fire investigator is looking for a secondary incendiary device.”

“Really,” she said. “And what is the conclusion.”

“Ach, well, there is no conclusion,” he said. “Because the case involved chemicals that were purchased from a local manufacturing company, they brought their own team in to investigate the fire. They ruled it an accident and stated the only secondary explosion was the cause of the teacher’s experiment in the front of the room.”

“And you’re suspicious?”

Ian chuckled. “Darling, I’m a researcher, I’m always suspicious. It’d be grand to learn more about what happened that night.”

“I’m up for a field trip,” Mary said. “We could get Rosie and Stanley to babysit for a bit.”

“Sounds like a cunning plan,” Ian agreed. “You make your calls and then let’s invite Rosie and Stanley over.”

She picked up her phone and dialed the Chicago number. In a moment the phone was answered.

“Harold Weller.”

“Hello Hal. This is Mary O’Reilly,” she replied. “Do you remember me?”

“Oh…wow…um…Mary…wow…Mary O’Reilly,” the voice on the phone nervously replied. “Yes…of course, of course I do. How are you Mary?”

“I’m great, Hal, just great. How are you?” Mary asked, picking up a pencil and tapping it on her notepad.

“I’m…wow…
Mary,
it’s so good to hear from you. Are you in town? Maybe we could get together…”

Mary smiled and glanced over at Ian who seemed caught up in his work.
Good
, she thought.

“That would be great, Harold. It’s really been a long time, but unfortunately, I’m not in Chicago. I’m still in Freeport.”

“Oh, yeah, what in the world made you move that far away? I, I mean, we all miss you.”

“Well, you know, after the shooting and all, I decided I needed some time away from the big city,” she explained.

“Oh, Mary, that’s right. I’m so sorry. I totally forgot about that,” he stammered. “Are you okay?”

Yes, but I’ll never be able to play the piano again
, she thought wickedly to herself.
Of course, I never could play it in the first place.

“Well, you know, there were some residual effects,” she said. “But for the most part, I’m good. I opened up a small private investigation agency.”

“Wow, that’s great,” he replied. “How’s it going?”

“Well, that’s one of the reasons for my call,” she said, “Besides touching base with you after all this time.”

“Yeah, it’s so great to talk to you again,” he replied. “What can I do to help you?”

Mary turned the pencil in her hand and poised it for writing. “Well, this is such a long shot,” she explained. “And really, I don’t even know if you can help me. But when I encountered this issue, the first person I thought of was you. You always seemed to know your way around things there at DCFS.”

“Well, you know, I do my best.”

“Well, that’s what I’m going to need,” she said. “My client just found out his wife was kidnapped and murdered. While under the control of the kidnapper, she gave birth to a daughter at Cook County Hospital. The kidnapper posed as her husband and gave the child up to DCFS for adoption. He’s trying to find his daughter.”

“Oh, wow, that’s crazy,” Harold replied. “Can you give me some dates?”

Mary gave him the information and heard him entering it into his computer.

“Does your client have any evidence yet?” he asked.

“Well, the kidnapper confessed, but he’s still awaiting a court date,” she replied. “And they are exhuming his wife’s body in the next few days. So, he’s waiting for all of the legal work to get done. Oh, he’s also a cop.”

“Wow, okay, yeah, let me see what I can do.”

She waited a few more minutes.

“Mary, these papers, they’re sealed up tight,” he said. “I don’t have a lot of information. Only the date of the adoption and the case worker assigned to follow up. But, okay, here’s what I can tell you.”

He paused again.

“Freeport,” he said.

“Yes, I live in Freeport,” Mary replied, “But what about the little girl?”

“Okay, well, that’s crazy,” he said. “The case worker that was assigned for follow-up, Kat Tinder, she was in the Freeport Office. So, the little girl must have gone to the Freeport area.”