Natural Reaction - a Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Read online

  She sniffled, “But I needed to help Coach Thorne,” she said. “Can you understand that?”

  “Yeah, I can,” he said, nodding his head. “I just ain’t used to my sweet Rosie turning into a superhero.”

  Chuckling weakly, she stepped out of Stanley’s arms, wiped her eyes and turned to the others. “Can you forgive me?”

  Mary came up and put her arms around Rosie. “There is nothing to forgive,” she said. “You followed your heart, that’s always the best course of action.”

  “Aye, although it would be a terrible crime if you gave up cooking altogether,” Ian said with a wink.

  She giggled. “Oh, don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll still bake.”

  Ian put his hand on his heart. “Well, saints be praised,” he said, “We won’t have to only eat Mary’s cooking.”

  Mary whipped a couch pillow at him, hitting him in the stomach. “Eat that, MacDougal.”

  “Well, now that things are getting back to normal, we oughtta be putting together a plan to solve this case and keep my Rosie safe,” Stanley said. “So, what’s the first step?”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “So this is how swinging singles live in Chicago,” Bradley said, following Sean up another flight of narrow stairs to his apartment on the fifth floor carrying a bag of White Castle sliders.

  “Yeah, great, ain’t it,” Sean said with a grin, juggling his keys with the drink tray and the other bag, containing onion rings and French fries.

  He pushed the door open and a huge orange cat nearly tripped him as he entered the apartment.

  “Escapee from the zoo?” Bradley asked, watching the cat nearly topple Sean as it rubbed itself against his legs.

  Sean grinned. “Bradley meet Tiny, Tiny meet Bradley.”

  Bradley followed Sean in and closed the door behind them. He looked anxiously around the room.

  “What?” Sean asked.

  “Well, if this is Tiny,” Bradley joked. “I’m just concerned Monster is in the next room waiting to eat me for dinner.”

  Laughing, Sean placed the items in his hand on an already cluttered table, scooped Tiny up into his arms and gave him a vigorous head rubbing. “No, Tiny wasn’t named because of his size,” Sean said.

  Bradley looked around and finally found a clear spot to place his things down. “Well, I wouldn’t guess it was because of his appetite.”

  Sean shook his head. “No,” he said. “Listen.”

  He lifted the cat up so they were face to face. “How’s my big boy?” Sean asked.

  Bradley could hear the cat’s thunderous purring all the way across the room.

  “How’s my big boy?” Sean asked again.

  The cat stopped purring for a moment, looked at Sean and opened its mouth. A tiny, barely audible “meow” was emitted.

  Sean held the cat against his chest and rubbed him again, producing purrs that echoed through the apartment and probably the entire neighborhood. “See,” Sean said. “Tiny is verbally challenged, all the other cats at the shelter used to pick on him, so I took him home with me.”

  “They wouldn’t let poor Tiny join in any kitty-cat games?” Bradley asked with a grin.

  Sean laughed. “Yeah, something like that. So, we keep each other company, share tuna sandwiches. It’s all good.”

  He put Tiny down and walked across the room to a doorway. “I can loan you some sweats, if you don’t mind CPD,” he said.

  “That’s all Mary seems to wear around her place,” Bradley said. “So, they must be comfortable.”

  Sean came back in the room and tossed Bradley a sweat shirt and sweat pants. “Well, you can’t keep them,” he said. “But if you’re nice to me, I’ll get you a set as a wedding present.”

  The comment hit Bradley like a ton of bricks. “A wedding,” he said slowly, his eyes loosing focus. His legs felt weak and he blindly sat down, nearly crushing Tiny in the process. “I’m getting married.”

  Shaking his head, Sean walked over to him. “Well, yeah, isn’t that what happens when you ask someone to marry you?”

  Still staring into space, Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. “But, you know, it was more… I love her… I want to be with her for the rest of my life.”

  “You forgot about all that complicated stuff in between, huh?”

  Bradley nodded slowly. “I really hate weddings,” he admitted.

  Sean sat down on the edge of his coffee table, unbuttoned his uniform shirt and slipped it off. “Well, if you thought you hated weddings before, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” Sean said. “An Irish wedding is the wedding of all weddings.”

  Bradley dropped his head into his hands. “Think we could elope?”

  “Hah, not if you want my mother to ever speak to you again,” he said. “She’s waited her whole life to plan Mary’s wedding.”

  Bradley sighed. “Well, it’s only one day.”

  “Oh, didn’t you know,” Sean said. “Irish weddings last a week.”

  Bradley’s head shot up. “What?”

  Sean laughed at him. “You should have seen your face. Priceless!”

  “Not funny,” he said, and then he noticed a large scar on Sean’s arm. “Wow, that looks bad. Knife wound?”

  Sean looked down at his arm. The scar had been there so long he barely thought of it. There were four slashes, evenly spaced and a puncture mark at the end of the one on the bottom. Even though they had healed years ago, they still had an ugly pink look to them.

  “No, I got these when I visited Ireland when I was twelve,” he said. “We were playing hide and seek near my grandmother’s home and I went to hide in the woods. I must have encountered a pretty fierce thorn tree because I came out all bloodied and woozy. My brothers found me steps away from the woods and helped me back to the house.”

  “Wow,” Bradley said. “Remind me to stay away from Irish woods.”

  Sean laughed. “Oh, the woods are nothing compared to Irish women.”

  They spent the evening watching basketball and complaining about the referees’ eye-sight. It was nearly eleven when Sean grabbed a couple of blankets and a pillow and handed them to Bradley before he went to bed.

  “I think I might have an extra toothbrush in the bathroom,” he said, “In one of the drawers.”

  Bradley nodded, “Thanks, appreciate it.”

  Once Sean closed the door to his bedroom, Bradley sat down on the couch next to Tiny and pulled out his phone. He punched in Mary’s number.

  “Hello,” a slightly drowsy voice responded.

  “It sounds like I woke you up,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’ll call back tomorrow.”

  “Bradley?” her voice sounded more alert. “No, don’t call back. I’m awake.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” she said. “Are you home? Do you want to come over?”

  He relaxed against the back of the couch and absently stroked Tiny. “I’m in Chicago,” he said. “I’m at Sean’s place.”

  “Well then you must have met Tiny,” she said.

  He could hear the laughter in her voice.

  “As a matter of fact, I do believe that Tiny is sharing his bed with me tonight,” he said.

  She laughed. “Well, you won’t be cold.”

  “I met Pete O’Bryan today.”

  “Really? Pete’s a good guy. We’ve known him forever.”

  “He’s going to help me find my daughter. And the guy is amazing.”

  “That’s wonderful,” she said. “I’ve never known Pete to lose a case.”

  “Yeah, he seems like the guy you want on your side,” Bradley agreed. “I really feel hopeful about finding her.”

  “You should,” Mary said. “You will.”

  He paused for a moment. “Mary, I can’t begin to tell you how much meeting you has changed my life.”

  She laughed nervously. “Yeah, well, that whole seeing dead people can alter things a bit.”

  Chuckling, he shook his head. “No, I
mean without you …there are so many things that happened today that are a direct result from meeting you.”

  “Bradley, Mike told us what you had to do today,” she said. “I’m so sorry. How did things go?”

  “Well, actually, much better than I thought,” he admitted. “Bernie was great. He really knows what he’s doing.”

  “Yeah, he’s the best.”

  “I’ve got to ask, how many nephews does that guy have?”

  Mary laughed. “There’s got to be hundreds of them.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For letting me into your life and into your extended family,” he said. “I know things moved faster and smoother because I was a friend of the O’Reilly clan.”

  “Well, that just part of the deal,” she said softly.

  “What deal?” he asked.

  “When one O’Reilly loves you, the rest of them do to.”

  “Mary, that makes me slightly uncomfortable knowing Sean is sleeping in the next room.”

  She laughed again. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Mary.”

  “Yes Bradley.”

  “I love you.”

  She sighed. “I love you too.”

  “Good night. Sweet dreams.”

  “Yeah, you and Tiny too.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Mary smiled and slowly sunk back into her bedding, she was just so much in love it almost scared her. She chuckled as she reviewed the conversation in her mind. She’d have to thank Sean for bringing Pete in on the case. She felt even more hopeful that Bradley was going to find his daughter.

  She yawned and stretched her arms. It had been a busy day and tomorrow she was going to be even busier. Katie Brennan called after dinner and had a chance to speak with both Andy and Maggie. But after the phone call, there had been homework to do, baths to supervise, stories to read and arguments to mediate. She really didn’t know how Katie did it every day and look so young and fresh. She was exhausted.

  Closing her eyes, she quickly drifted into a deep sleep.

  The room was getting colder and Mary automatically reached for her thick quilt, but could only find a thin cotton blanket. She pulled it up over her shoulders, but she was still cold. What had happened to her down quilt?

  She opened her eyes and looked around. She was confused, the room was too dark. Did the streetlight outside burn out again?

  She reached out towards her bed stand, but found her hand was tied with a thick rope. What the hell?

  She sat up and realized she wasn’t in her bed. Instead, she was on a couch in a cold, damp basement. She was there again. Looking down at her body, she saw her swollen abdomen and felt the child move inside of her. Reaching forward, she placed her hands against her stomach and felt a tiny kick vibrate against her hand.

  A combination of awe and fear warred within her. This child, her child, was in danger. Instinctually defensive, she leaned forward softly rubbing against the tiny foot ledged against her skin. “I’ll protect you,” she promised. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  “I’m the one who will keep her safe,” a deep voice taunted from the shadows of the room. “She’s my daughter.”

  Scooting back as far as she could, Mary pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, protecting the baby. “Get away from me.”

  Gary strolled out of the shadows, a blanket in his hands. “But, darling, if I leave who will keep you warm? Who will give you food?”

  “I don’t want anything from you,” she whispered fiercely. “I want you to leave.”

  He slowly stroked her from the top of her head down along the side of her face, his hand lingering on her cheek. “But, if I leave you, your baby will die,” he said. “You don’t want your baby to die, do you?”

  She whimpered. “Please, please don’t hurt my baby,” she cried.

  He sat next to her on the bed and smiled, “Oh course, I won’t hurt her,” he said. “As long as you do what I say.”

  He licked his lips and brushed her hair away from her face. “Will you do everything I say?”

  She nodded, tears flowing down her face.

  “Good girl,” he mocked. “Now lie back on the couch so I can look at you.”

  She hesitated.

  “You don’t want your baby to die, do you?”

  She unwrapped her arms and slowly leaned back against the couch.

  “Excellent, excellent,” he said eagerly. “Now, straighten your legs.”

  She lowered her legs to the couch and stared up at the pipes crisscrossing on the ceiling.

  He lifted her shirt, exposed her belly and rubbed it slowly with both hands. “Oh, yes, our baby. Our creation,” he murmured.

  His touch made her skin crawl. She wanted to be sick. “Please don’t touch me,” she begged. “Please don’t touch me.”

  “Oh, Mary, this is just the beginning of what I’m going to do to you,” he said softly, sliding his hands to the waist of her pants. “And I’m going to enjoy every moment of it.”

  Panic filled her. She knew what he was going to do, had done before. “No,” she screamed. “No, don’t touch me.”

  Ian rushed into her room. “Mary, darling, listen to me,” he said with a calm but forceful voice.

  “Please, don’t touch me,” she cried.

  “Darling, it’s Ian,” he said. “You have to fight him. You have to be stronger.”

  She tossed her head back and forth on her pillow. “He’s going to hurt me again,” she cried. “He’s touching me…oh, no, please make him stop.”

  “Mary, you lift your leg and you kick him with all you’ve got,” Ian commanded.

  He saw her thrash her leg under the cover and kick out.

  “Aye, that’s my girl,” he said. “Now kick him again. Harder.”

  He moved closer and sat next to her on the edge of the bed. “Now you’re winning the fight,” he said. “Are your hands loose, darling?”

  “They’re tied,” she whimpered, “He’s tied them with rope.”

  “Well, darling, you just need to pull them apart and you can break through that rope,” he said. “Just pull at them, you’ll see.”

  He watched her jerk her arms in her sleep. “They’re off,” she said, her breathing short and panicked. “They’re off.”

  “Aye, now you can give him what for,” he said. “You’re in charge, Mary O’Reilly. Kick his ass.”

  The quick right cross seemed to come out of nowhere, but one moment Ian was sitting on the side of her bed and the next he was on the floor, nursing a bruised jaw. “Well, you probably took him down with that one,” he said.

  “Ian, is Mary going to die?” Maggie cried from the doorway. “Is someone trying to hurt her?”

  Ian got up and hurried over to Maggie. He wrapped her in his arms for a moment. “Ach, no, she was just having a nightmare,” he said. “That’s all. And when our Mary has nightmares she gets a little loud.”

  Mike appeared next to her. “I’m sorry, I tried to comfort her, but she was worried about Mary.”

  “Ian,” Mary sat up in her bed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh nothing,” he said. “Nothing t’all.”

  “You was having a scary nightmare,” Maggie said. “You was yelling really loud and I was scared.”

  Mary felt her heart drop; she slipped out of her bed and hurried over to Maggie. “Oh, sweetheart, I am so sorry I scared you,” she said.

  Maggie moved from Ian’s arms into Mary’s. “A bad man was trying to get you,” she said. “I thought the bad man was in the house.”

  Biting her lower lip and blinking back her tears, Mary held the little girl close. “Oh, no, sweetheart, you’re safe in this house,” she said. “You have Ian and Mike and me to look after you. We won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  “But the bad man was hurting you,” she said. “I heard you screaming.”

  “Only in my dreams, sweetheart,” Mary explained. “And then Ian came in and helped m
e. Sometimes big people need protectors too.”

  Maggie looked over at Ian. “He protects you too?” she asked. “Like Mike protects me?”

  Mary nodded. “Yes, he does,” she said. “He’s very good at that.”

  Maggie yawned widely, “I’m going to marry him,” she said with a sleepy voice.

  “Well, that’s a wise choice indeed,” Mary said, cuddling the child for a few more moments. “Can I put you back in bed?”

  “Mmmmm-hmmmm,” Maggie mumbled.

  Lifting her up in her arms, Mary carried her down the hall. Ian opened the door and drew down the blankets. Mike hovered nearby as Mary placed her into the bed and kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” she whispered to the little girl who was already asleep.

  “I’ll stay in here, just in case she wakes up,” Mike whispered.

  Mary nodded and she and Ian softly closed the door and walked down the hallway. Ian motioned for Mary to follow him downstairs and she led the way without saying a word.

  He walked over to the stove and put the kettle on. Mary sat at the table and cradled her head in her hands. “I frightened her, Ian,” she said. “I woke her from her sleep and frightened her.”

  He came over and sat next to her at the table. “You didn’t mean to do it,” he said. “And judging by how quickly she fell back to sleep, there were no residual effects.”

  “But what if I keep having them?” she asked, looking up at him. “What if I never get over…”

  He shook his head. “You’ve had less than a week to get over a traumatic situation. Why don’t you give yourself a bit of a break?”

  “But, we don’t know if I’ll ever get over it,” she said.

  “Aye, but I believe as we change the circumstances in your dreams, so you’re not the victim anymore, the dreams will lessen.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “I remember hearing your voice,” she said, concentrating on the memory. “I remember you telling me to kick him.”

  “Aye, and you did.”

  She nodded. “I did. And I kicked him again and then I broke the ropes he tied on my wrists.”

  “And then you gave him a fine right cross,” Ian said, rubbing his chin.