Delayed Departures Read online

  Delayed Departures

  A MARY O’REILLY PARANORMAL MYSTERY

  (Book Eighteen)

  by

  Terri Reid

  DELAYED DEPARTURES

  A MARY O’REILLY PARANORMAL MYSTERY (BOOK 18)

  by

  Terri Reid

  Copyright © 2016 by Terri Reid

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/ use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  The author would like to thank all those who have contributed to the creation of this book: Richard Reid, Sarah Powers and Hillary Gadd.

  She would also like to thank all of the wonderful readers who walk with her through Mary and Bradley’s adventures and encourage her along the way. I hope we continue on this wonderful journey for a long time.

  Dedications

  This book is dedicated to all of the ‘Bradleys’ out there who serve their communities with compassion, courage and dedication. And to their families who never know from one day to the next if their loved one will be coming home from work. Thank you for your service, your loyalty and your devotion. God Bless you for your sacrifices.

  This book is also dedicated to those wonderful paranormal researchers out there who are the new explorers of our day, armed with cameras, meters and recording equipment, you are opening up new paths of wonder for the rest of us. Thank you!

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Chapter Fifty-four

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Chapter Fifty-six

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-one

  Chapter Sixty-two

  Prologue

  Her frail hands shook as she read the telegram. Bold, block letters on a thin sheet of yellow paper. “WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU….”

  The words swam in front of her face, blurred now by tears. She stumbled backwards, to the straight-backed, wooden chair next to her kitchen table and sat. There had to be some mistake. He was her only child. Her only son. Her only family. He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t be dead.

  Ruthlessly, she brushed away the tears, and with her lips set firm, she took a deep, shuddering breath. That’s all it was, she decided. It was a mistake. She’d show them.

  In the distance, she heard the whistle of the train. It would be pulling into the station in the next few minutes. The train always carried soldiers back home from the terrible battles in Europe. Her boy was bound to be on the train. She nodded. Wouldn’t he laugh when she told him they thought he was dead? Wouldn’t that be a good joke the two of them could share?

  She reached into her closet and pulled out her black coat and affixed her black felt hat on top of her head. Then she glanced in the mirror. She could see the wrinkles that had appeared since her boy had gone overseas. There were also a few dark spots on her ebony skin. And her black hair now had more than a few gray strands running through it. But, that didn’t matter. She was going to go to the station now to meet her boy.

  From that day on, Mary met the train every day. Wearing her black coat and hat, she murmured to herself, convinced that this would be the day her boy would return. Her body turned frail and bent. Her hair turned gray, and her coat was threadbare. But she walked through the streets of downtown Freeport and never missed an arrival. The residents of Freeport shook their heads as she passed them, avoiding eye contact with the woman whose grief had stolen her sanity. The children hurried away from her. The teens taunted her, calling her Midnight Mary and asking her about her son. She would stop and shake her head, confused by the questions. “He’s coming back to me,” she would assure them in a moment of lucidity. “He’s on the train.”

  They found her body after she’d been dead for several weeks, dressed in the black coat and hat, waiting for the whistle from the train.

  Funny thing, folks in Freeport would swear that they had seen her the night before, at the station, still waiting for her son.

  Chapter One

  Mary O’Reilly was tired of being pregnant, and if her doctor was correct, she still had at least eight more weeks to suffer. She rolled herself over and sat on the edge of her bed.

  “Honey, are you okay?” Bradley asked, sleep evident in his voice, his face still buried in his pillow.

  She sighed and nodded. “Yeah, just great,” she muttered.

  He rolled and lifted his head onto his hand. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  “I have to pee,” she said sullenly. “Again.”

  He studied her, a little confused. “Do you need help?” he asked tentatively.

  “No,” she replied. “But it’s not worth it.”

  “Not worth it?” he repeated.

  She huffed impatiently. “I’m going to push myself out of bed, onto the cold floor, walk all the way over to the bathroom, sit down on the cold toilet seat and then…nothing,” she said.

  “Nothin
g?”

  She turned to him. “Nothing,” she said, and then she shrugged. “Okay, maybe a little, tiny bit of something. But mostly nothing. A whole lot of work, for nothing.”

  “Or a little, tiny bit of something,” he encouraged.

  She shot him a look that had him scooting away from her on the bed. “Sorry,” he croaked.

  Sighing loudly, she shook her head. “No, it’s not your fault,” she said. “It’s totally me.”

  Pushing herself off the bed, she slowly waddled to the bathroom.

  “How about if I bring you breakfast in bed?” Bradley called.

  She turned and smiled. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, what do you want? Eggs and bacon, bagel and cream cheese?”

  She thought about it for a moment and then smiled widely. “Pie. I want pumpkin pie with whipped cream,” she said decisively.

  Bradley was not a stupid man. He didn’t question her menu choice at all. “Do you want something to drink with that?” he asked, sliding out of their bed.

  “Milk,” she said with a nod. “A tall glass of milk.”

  “Sounds like a perfect breakfast,” he added.

  She smiled again. “Thank you,” she said softly and then hurried the rest of the way to the bathroom.

  A few minutes later, she was back in bed, a tray balanced on her baby bump, taking another large forkful of pie. “This is amazing,” she said as she savored the spicy filling and delicate crust. “Thank you.”

  Bradley sat next to her, eating his own piece of pie and nodded. “Who would have thought that pie would be so perfect for breakfast?”

  She grinned. “Right?”

  “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” he asked. “Want to do any Black Friday shopping?”

  “No, I can’t,” she said. “I have to decorate my office for the Christmas Walk.”

  “I could help,” he offered.

  She smiled at him. “Actually, you are supposed to take Clarissa Black Friday shopping today,” she reminded him. “And really, since I organized everything last year, decorating should be a snap.”

  He paused, pie in midair and turned to her. “You organized everything?” he asked, a note a skepticism thrown in.

  Mary nodded. “Yes, I did,” she replied firmly. Then she paused. “At least I think I did. I remember wanting to be organized.”

  Bradley took the bite of pie and then nodded. “Well, then, you probably did,” he said, a grin spreading across his face.

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” she countered. “I can be organized when I want to be.”

  His grin widened. “Yes. Yes, you can,” he replied.

  She picked up her pillow and tossed it at him. “Oh, shut up,” she laughed.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, the grin still firmly in place.

  Chapter Two

  Mary pulled her SUV into the parking spot in front of her office, surprised that it was one of the only spots left on the street. She stepped out of her vehicle and looked around. People were everywhere. “What in the world?” she questioned, pulling her coat tighter around herself and quickly grabbing her purse so she could get into her office before anyone could see her.

  Black Friday was generally not a huge shopping day for downtown Freeport because of all of the deals at the big-name chain stores, which is why the Freeport Downtown Development Foundation held its Christmas Walk on the Saturday after Black Friday. That was the only reason, quite frankly, Mary had even bothered getting out of bed. She had to decorate her office windows before the Christmas Walk.

  She unlocked the door and hurried inside, keeping the blinds that covered the large display windows closed for now. She slipped her coat off and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Most of her clothes were getting uncomfortably tight, so she’d borrowed a pair of Bradley’s sweatpants, which were not only too big but also too long. So, she had pulled a pair of thick, athletic socks up over the bottoms to keep them in place. She was wearing one of her father’s cast-off flannel shirts that had paint stains on the front. She hadn’t bothered putting on make-up, and she had just pulled her hair back in a ponytail because— “No one was supposed to be downtown,” she said to her reflection. “Who didn’t get the memo? Downtown is closed today.”

  With a frustrated sigh, she walked over to the storage closet and pulled out the large, plastic containers of Christmas decorations. As she carried the containers to her desk, she remembered Stanley coming into her store last year and chastising her because she hadn’t untangled them before she put them away for storage. That’s when she was sure she decided she would start being organized. Bradley had no reason to mock her this year. “I’ll show him,” she muttered, opening the first box.

  She stared inside in shock and horror. Instead of the neat little piles she’d imagined, the lights were one big ball of tangled mess. “I thought I…” then she paused and shook her head. “No. No, I guess I didn’t.”

  Picking up the bewildering jumble of green and white, she inserted the only visible plug into the outlet and tried to carry it back to her desk. Unfortunately, the untangled cord was only about three feet long, so instead of sitting at her desk, Mary was obliged to sit on the floor behind her desk with the ball of lights in her lap.

  “Bah-humbug,” she muttered as she began to weave the wires in and out of each other.

  She heard the bell over the door chime but couldn’t get up from the tangled mess. “Stanley?” she asked. “Is that you? Because if it is, I don’t want to hear anything about Christmas lights.”

  “Mary O’Reilly?” a strange male voice asked.

  Crap! She did not want anyone to see her like this.

  “My office is closed,” she called out, praying they would just leave.

  “That doesn’t matter to us,” the voice, tinged with excitement, called back to her.

  “It matters to me,” she replied. “Come back on Monday.”

  Mary noticed that it seemed to be getting brighter in her office. She saw a shadow on the wall of what looked like video equipment.

  “You need to go now,” she called.

  “Mary O’Reilly, this is the greatest day of your life,” the male voice called back.

  She pushed the lights off her lap, creating a bigger mess, and struggled to stand up. “Please, I don’t—” she said as she began to stand.

  Suddenly, a bright light blinded her, and she sat back down with a thump.

  “Smile, Mary O’Reilly,” the man behind the video camera yelled. “Because you’re on this week’s episode of Ghost Discoverers.”

  “Oh, hell, no!” Mary exclaimed.

  Chapter Three

  “I’m sorry, what?” the man with the camera asked.

  Mary put a hand to her eyes to shield them from the lights. “Turn those lights off,” she said firmly. “Now.”

  “But, we’re filming….” he began.

  “Oh, no, you’re not,” she interrupted.

  He paused for a moment, confused. “But this is Ghost Discoverers,” he said, emphasizing the title of the program like a radio announcer. “Everyone loves Ghost Discoverers.”

  She reached into the pocket of the oversized sweatpants and pulled out her phone.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m calling my husband,” Mary replied evenly, “the Chief of Police, so he can lock up the crew of…Ghost Discoverers...” she added a mocking emphasis, “for trespassing.”

  “Wait. Your husband is Chief of Police?” he asked.

  “An angry and vengeful Chief of Police,” Mary replied.

  The lights dimmed, and finally Mary could see a thirty-something man standing behind the camera. His complexion was caramel, and he sported a nicely-trimmed moustache. His hair was styled into a trim afro, and he looked really familiar.

  “Do I know you?” Mary asked. “You look so…”

  The man sighed. “Yeah, I get that all the time,” he replied, placing the shoulder-held camera on the floor. “
Star Wars, right?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “No, I was thinking Ghostbusters,” she said.

  He smiled back. “Okay, Ray Parker Jr., yeah, that works. No, I’m just Dee Westin.”

  “Well, hello Dee Westin,” Mary said. She started to get up, and he was quickly by her side, holding out his hand and helping her up. “Thanks,” she said. “It’s been getting more challenging every day.”

  He studied her for a long moment. “Can I ask?” he began. “Do you always dress like this?”

  She sent him a scathing look. “No,” she replied. “I only dressed like this because no one was supposed to be downtown today. It’s Black Friday. Everyone was supposed to be shopping somewhere else. Downtown was supposed to be deserted.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably our fault,” he admitted.

  “There are more of you?” Mary asked as she moved to sit at her desk and then motioned for him to take a chair, too.

  He smiled and sat across from her. “Yeah, there’s just two of us,” he said. “And we announced on the show last week that we’d be in Freeport on Black Friday.”

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “Well, we heard about you and thought it would be a cool angle to include, you know, a ghost detective in our show,” he said.

  “Don’t you think it might be a good business practice for you to call the person you want to have as a guest on your show?” Mary asked, her eyebrows raised. “And not try to surprise them.”

  He looked away for a moment and sighed. “Yeah, well, we like to surprise people,” he said. “It’s part of the show. People love it.”

  “Do I look like I love it?” she asked.

  “Um, no. No, you don’t,” he replied.

  “Look, I can appreciate your need for a good show, but I don’t…” she paused and sighed when she saw the ghost materialize through the wall of her office. She was a black woman in her forties, but she was dressed in clothing that would have been current in the eighties. The ghost glided across the floor and made her way to the man sitting across from her, then placed her hand on his shoulder.