Good Tidings - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book 2) Read online

  Stanley covered his laughter in a cough.

  Mary just smiled stiffly. “Thanks, Rosie, that’s good to know.”

  Rosie walked over to the box and peered inside. “Oh, good, mistletoe,” she exclaimed, looking around the room, “I think it would work best over the bathroom door. That way...”

  “Yes, I know,” Mary interrupted, “If I get carried away, I can just scoot inside and close the door.”

  Rosie looked surprised. “Well, I was going to say it would enhance your decorating scheme with a little green vegetation right in the center of the room,” she said, then smiled. “But a little hanky-panky time in the bathroom isn’t bad either.”

  “Good grief,” Mary said, her face turning bright red, “Can we just get our minds off the hanky-panky?”

  Rosie shrugged. “You were the one that brought it up.”

  Mary took a deep breath. “Let’s talk about the weather,” she suggested. “So, another six inches by tonight?”

  Rosie nodded, “If it falls quickly and then the plows can get in, it will make a lovely setting for the Mistletoe Walk on Sunday.”

  “Yeah, nothing says Happy Holidays like dirty snow and slush,” Stanley grumbled.

  The Mistletoe Walk was the annual Downtown Freeport celebration to open the holiday shopping season. It was held on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. All of the downtown businesses decorated their windows to reflect the theme selected by the Walk’s committee. Retailers offered store specials to encourage shopping in the downtown area. The Downtown Development Foundation offered horse-drawn sleigh rides, carolers and holiday snacks.

  “So, Rosie, is your window done?” Mary asked.

  Rosie smiled. “Yes, I’m so excited about the theme this year,” she said, “The Gift of the Magi, is such a romantic story.”

  “It’s a story about bad communication,” Stanley grumbled, “And a waste of money. What are you gonna do with a watch chain and no watch or hair combs and no hair, I ask you? And how the hell are we supposed to decorate store windows with that kind of a theme?”

  “I put up a lovely tree with garland that looks like gold chain and ornaments that are hair combs,” Rosie said, “It really looks festive.”

  “Who puts hair combs on a Christmas Tree?” Stanley asked, “Maybe Rhonda at the Beauty Shop, but hair combs ain’t gonna sell real estate.”

  “It’s not about selling real estate,” Rosie explained, “It’s about getting into the spirit of the season.”

  Mary held up her hand before Stanley could speak. “Just warning you,” she said, “If you say ‘Bah Humbug,’ I’m going to find three ghosts, have them visit you and keep you up all night long.”

  Ever since Mary had a near death experience, she had been able to communicate with ghosts. It was part of the deal she made when she chose to return to life. Her P.I. work tended to be more centered on those who had already passed beyond than on the living.

  “Well,” Stanley said. “If you’re gonna be mean about it...”

  Mary smiled. “You can’t fool us, you softie,” she said, “I’ve seen you sneaking Christmas gifts into the back room of your store for months now.”

  Stanley blushed. “Man can’t even do some shopping without every busy-body in town poking their nose in his business.”

  Rosie giggled. “So, Stanley, what did you get for your sweetie?”

  “None of your beeswax,” he said, blushing deeper.

  “Hmmm,” Rosie said, “I did hear a rumor about you visiting the boutique and picking up some pretty fancy lingerie. I didn’t believe it until just now.”

  Stanley stormed to the door. “Damn busy-bodies,” he growled.

  “Thanks for the decorations, Stanley,” Mary called as the bell jingled his departure.

  Once he had walked away from the store, Mary and Rosie collapsed into a fit of laughter. “Oh, Rosie,” Mary said, wiping her eyes, “That was really mean. We should apologize.”

  Rosie tapped at her flushed cheeks with a lace handkerchief. “Oh, I’ll apologize,” she said, with a sweet smile, “next year some time.”

  She looked back at the box on the desk. “But, I didn’t mean to chase him off if he was going to help you.”

  Mary shook her head.

  “No, really, not having to untangle the lights is going to speed up my process considerably,” she said. “I’ll be done by the time the plows clear the street. Besides, I really can’t do anything else until they get here.”

  Rosie looked back out the window and shivered. “Well, I would stay and help you,” she said, “But William is driving over with his four-wheel drive pickup and taking me back to his place to wait out the storm. He has a fireplace you know.”

  Mary grinned and wagged her eyebrows. “William, eh?” she said, “Didn’t you go to Rockford with him last week?”

  Rosie smiled and sighed. “Yes. Yes, I believe I did,” she said, “And he was such a fine gentleman that I decided to let him have the pleasure of my company once again.”

  Mary smiled and lifted the mistletoe out of the box and handed it to Rosie. “Perhaps you ought to take this with you,” she said, “You’ll probably get more use out of it.”

  Rosie grinned, took the bouquet and placed it back in the box. “Some of us don’t need mistletoe,” she bragged, winking at Mary before she waved good-bye and made her way out into the deepening snow.

  “Show-off,” Mary called at her departing figure.

  She looked at the mistletoe sitting in the box. “You are not going to be hung in this place of business,” she growled.

  She took it out of the box, laid it on her desk, and then carried the box filled with untangled lights and garland to the ladder. As she climbed up the ladder, a new song began on the radio. Within a moment she recognized it. Frank Sinatra crooned, “Oh, by gosh, by golly, it’s time for mistletoe and holly.”

  “Shut up, Frank,” she muttered, as she pulled a string of lights out of the box.

  *****

  Chapter Two

  After hanging the first set of lights on her bare wall, she realized that Rosie was right - she needed something more to add to the décor. But that something was not going to be mistletoe. She made a call to Deininger Floral Shop and explained her dilemma. Within a few minutes the downtown floral shop delivered a box of fresh evergreens ready to be hung.

  Two hours later Mary climbed down the ladder and surveyed her handiwork. The lights and garlands were now wrapped around long-needled evergreen swags.

  She took a deep breath and let the scent of Christmas fill her lungs. There was nothing like the smell of fresh evergreens. The mellow sounds of “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” filled the room and Mary felt a little homesick, even though she had just been with her family in Chicago for Thanksgiving the day before. Accompanied by Kenny G’s saxophone she sang along, “Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more. Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow. Hang a shining star upon the highest bough. And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.”

  The jingling of the doorbell instantly halted Mary’s solo and she turned to see her newest visitor.

  A young boy, about six years old, stood just inside the door. He shifted awkwardly as he held her gaze and took a deep breath.

  “Can I help you?” Mary asked.

  He nodded. The sprinkling of freckles across his nose did nothing to lessen his sober expression. “Do you do real people stuff?” he asked. “Not just ghost stuff?”

  She motioned to the chair at the other side of her desk, while she sat behind it and pulled out a paper and notepad. “Yes, I work on investigations that involve live people too,” she said. “I used to be a police officer.”

  He settled himself on the chair and met her eyes. “That’s good, right?”

  She nodded and held back a smile. “Yes, it’s good,” she said. “My name is Mary O’Reilly. What’s your name?”

  “Joey,” he said. “Joey Marcum. I need y
ou to find my brother.”

  “He’s lost?” she asked.

  Joey shook his head. “He got took,” he said. “Some bad people took him...today...at the store. My mom’s really sad.”

  “Has she called the police?” Mary asked. “Do they know?”

  Joey nodded. “Yeah, they know, but they ain’t gonna be able to do much. They said they don’t have much information to go on.”

  “Joey, the Chief of Police is a friend of mine and he’s very good at what he does,” she said. “I know he’ll do his best to find your brother.”

  “Yeah, probably,” Joey said. “But my brother’s only three months old and my mom’s freaking out. I figured you could help too... then there’s more people looking.”

  Mary nodded. “Okay, Joey, but I’ll want to work with the police on this one. Do you have any problems with that?”

  Joey paused. “No, I guess you can talk to them.”

  “That’ll be helpful.”

  “But you can’t tell my mom you’re working for me,” he said, “Promise?”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  Joey shrugged. “I don’t think she’d understand, seeing that I’m dead, you know.”

  *****

  Chapter Three

  Police Chief Bradley Alden tromped through the knee-high snow drifts and made his way across Galena Avenue to Main Street in downtown Freeport. The snow was still coming down with incredible velocity. His small department had already been overwhelmed with calls about fender-benders throughout the city and he knew it was only going to get worse when the sun set and the slush turned to ice on the roads.

  He actually wished all he had to deal with were people who forgot how to drive in the snow. That was understandable. But what he could never understand, and what had hit too close to home, was the newest case his department had received.

  He shook his head, remembering the distraught and terrified mother whose child had been snatched in the midst of holiday shoppers. Having a wife and unborn baby girl snatched from his life eight years earlier, he understood some of the anguish she was experiencing.

  With the help of the local FBI office, the Freeport Police Department had a good description of the kidnappers and had already sent an AMBER alert throughout the tri-state area. The mother had been left in the very capable hands of Family Services. Bradley didn’t think he was a coward, but the panic in the mother’s eyes triggered his own gut-clenching response and he knew he couldn’t remain objective. He needed to pull himself out of the situation and get back to something normal. Of course, he thought with a chuckle, a call from Mary O’Reilly was usually anything but normal.

  Mary.

  He ran his hand through his snow-crusted hair. He still didn’t quite understand how he felt about her. She was intelligent, courageous, funny, caring and sexy as hell. But she was also slightly loony, stubborn as a mule and claimed she could communicate with ghosts.

  To be fair, he had actually been with her to witness two unique “encounters.” But he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that there were such things as ghosts. The next thing you know, some fat guy in red, driving a flying sleigh, will show up giving out gifts. He shook his head. Maybe he was going nuts along with her.

  She had been fairly vague on the phone. Not unusual for Mary. She needed him to come down to her office to meet with a special client. Well, at least he hoped that this time her new client had his head on straight...literally.

  The bell over the door jingled as he entered her office. He smiled. Although he enjoyed sneaking up on her, the bell he’d installed a few weeks ago did a good job.

  The smells of the holidays met him as soon as he walked through the doors. He glanced around and then smiled at Mary who was seated behind her desk. “Nice job with the decorations.”

  She smiled back and his stomach tightened a little.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I think it turned out pretty good.”

  He unbuttoned his jacket and hung it on the coat rack in the corner of the office. “I hate decorating,” he admitted. “Mostly because I’m not good at putting the lights away neatly the year before and I end up with one massive knot of red, green and white.”

  He shrugged. “I actually end up throwing the whole mess away and buying new ones.”

  Mary shook her head. “You know,” she advised, “If you just take the time to put them in their individual boxes when you take them down, it makes next year’s decorating so much easier.”

  Bradley couldn’t quite figure out why there seemed to be a wicked smile hiding behind that statement.

  “Thanks for the advice,” he said, looking around the room again. “Didn’t you want me to meet someone?”

  Mary nodded and motioned to an additional chair placed on her side of the desk. “Come over here and sit next to me.”

  Bradley did as requested and once he was seated, Mary took his hand in hers. Instantly he saw the young boy sitting across from them.

  “Bradley Alden this is Joey Marcum, my newest client.”

  Joey looked skeptical. “Can he see me too?”

  Mary nodded. “Yes, as long as we are in contact with each other, he can see you.”

  “Marcum... I had a call this morning involving a Marcum,” Bradley said, his heart clenching. “A child was kidnapped. Was that...?”

  Joey interrupted. “No, not me. My baby brother. I’ve been dead since summer.”

  Bradley mentally shook himself. He still wasn’t used to talking to people who mention dying like other people talk about going to the gym. “That’s right,” he said. “I remember the child was an infant.”

  Joey nodded. “Yeah, that’s why you need my help,” he explained. “So we can get him home for Christmas.”

  “Joey, I can’t promise your brother will be home by Christmas,” Bradley explained. “It can take months and sometimes even years to find a missing child, especially an infant.”

  Joey shook his head. “Yeah, most of the time,” he said. “But they ain’t got me helping.”

  “But, Joey,” Bradley said. “As much as you would like to help, you are only a little boy.”

  “Not so little,” Joey argued, “I was six when I died.”

  “Still, you’re only a six-year old boy,” Bradley replied.

  “A six year-old ghost,” Mary interjected. “Joey, how can you help us find your brother?”

  “I can visit him,” he explained. “That was the deal when I died.”

  “The deal?” Bradley asked.

  “I was worried because he wasn’t gonna have a big brother to protect him, so I talked to God and I got to be his guardian angel.”

  “What do you mean, visit him?” Mary asked.

  “I can go where he is,” Joey said, “Then I can tell you stuff.”

  “Where is he now, Joey?” Mary asked.

  “I’ll see.”

  Joey’s image faded in front of them.

  “How does this kind of thing work?” Bradley asked, turning to Mary.

  Mary shrugged. “This is new to me too,” she said. “I never knew guardian angels were real.”

  Bradley smiled. “This from the lady who talks to ghosts.”

  Mary laughed. “Yeah, weird, huh?”

  Bradley shook his head, his smile turning wistful as he studied her face. “Not weird at all,” he said, “How was your Thanksgiving?”

  “It was loud, messy and I ate so much I thought I was going to explode,” she said, “In other words, it was great! I wish you had come along.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, it sounds like it was fun,” he admitted. “But most of the guys have families and I thought they should be home on Thanksgiving, so... I worked instead.”

  “You have a family too, Bradley,” Mary said. “If you would just...”

  Bradley was relieved when their conversation was interrupted by Joey’s reappearance. He still wasn’t ready to talk to Mary about his missing wife and child. He wasn’t ready to ask a “ghost hunter” to go lo
oking for them.

  “What did you see?” Mary asked Joey.

  “He was in a van and he was crying,” Joey said, tears pooling in his eyes. “They were on a highway. The old lady was in the middle seat, sitting next to him, trying to feed him from a bottle. He hates bottles.”

  “Was there anything else you could see around you? Could you read any of the signs on the highway?” Bradley asked.

  “Signs?” he asked.