Natural Reaction - a Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Page 3

  “What did she ask you to do?”

  “She asked for my help,” he said. “She wants to be able to trust again and she asked me to help her.”

  “That’s sounds like a good start. If she is sleeping this soundly while you are in the room with her, she does trust you,” she said. “And it seems that she understands this might be a long process. Bradley, have you had any experience with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, some of the guys I served with had it.”

  “When a person is raped, they experience a disorder that is very similar,” she explained. “They often have flashbacks or nightmares. They are more fearful than they used to be and often try to isolate themselves in order to feel some level of security. The world is not a safe place for them anymore.”

  Bradley’s jaw tightened. He turned away from Dr. Thorne and his gaze rested on Mary.

  “Did you rape her?” Dr. Thorne asked sharply.

  Bradley turned back quickly. “What? Hell no,” he whispered fiercely.

  Dr. Thorne nodded and stepped up to face Bradley. “Then stop clenching your jaw and letting your anger get the best of you,” she said. “Yes, whoever did this deserves the worst punishment available. But that’s not going to help Mary. What’s going to help her is you being calm and supportive. Do you understand?”

  He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I got it Doc.”

  “You got it, but can you do it?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I will do it.”

  “Good, now let’s get her checked out of this hospital and home as soon as we can,” she said.

  Shaking his head, Bradley wondered if he heard her correctly. “Home?” he asked. “Doesn’t she need to be in the hospital?”

  Moving to the bed and scanning the clipboard at the end, she nodded. “Oh, if it were anyone else, they’d be staying,” she said. “But being here adds more stress than benefits. And I know that between you and the rest of your tight knit group, she’ll be well watched over. Although, I need you to promise me if you see anything that concerns you, you’ll call me immediately.”

  “Yes, I promise,” he agreed. “And you’re right, she will be well looked after.”

  Dr. Thorne grinned. “Yes, I thought so. Why don’t you go down the hall and get something to drink while Mary and I have a conversation.”

  She put the clipboard down and moved along the side of the bed. “Mary,” she said, “Mary, I need you to wake up so I can examine you.”

  Mary mumbled in her sleep and nestled further into her pillow. “Mary, I really need you to wake up,” Dr. Thorne said in a firmer and louder voice.

  Mary’s eyes sprang open and she turned quickly. “Oh, Dr. Thorne, I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Then she saw him, the translucent ghost standing behind Dr. Thorne. But he wasn’t trying to get Mary’s attention; he was just watching Dr. Thorne.

  “Mary, Mary,” Dr. Thorne repeated. “Now, how are you feeling?”

  Mary shook her head. “Sorry. I’m better, much better,” she quickly answered. “I really don’t think I need to stay here any longer.”

  The ghost moved closer, but the sunlight streaming through the window onto his face blurred his features.

  Cocking her head, Dr. Thorne took Mary’s wrist in her hand and checked her pulse. “And why don’t you think you need to stay here?” she asked.

  “Well,” Mary paused for a moment and then brightened. “I actually have a doctor staying with me. Right in my home.”

  Dr. Thorne looked over her shoulder at Bradley. “You never mentioned that,” she said.

  He cleared his throat. “I guess I didn’t think of Ian in that way,” he responded, earning a grateful smile from Mary.

  Giving Mary a speculative look, she pulled the cloth screen around the bed, separating them from Bradley. She pulled her stethoscope from around her neck and put it on. She bent over and placed the end against Mary’s chest. “Okay, Mary, take a deep breath,” she said.

  Mary complied and Dr. Thorne moved the stethoscope to the left. “So, what kind of doctor is Ian?” she asked.

  Mary coughed and Dr. Thorne lifted the stethoscope. “I didn’t need you to cough, Mary,” she said. “And although I know you’ve stretched the truth from time to time, I’ve never known you to lie to me.”

  Mary sighed. “He’s a Ph.D.,” she said. “I don’t think he even knows how to take someone’s temperature.”

  Dr. Thorne laughed. “Well, good, a Ph.D. is just the kind of person you need to look after you. I’m releasing you immediately, provided you take it easy and call me if there are any things that concern you.”

  Shocked, Mary sat up, open-mouthed and stared at the doctor for a moment. “Really? I can just go home?”

  Moving closer, Dr. Thorne perched on the edge of the bed. “Mary, you can go home and relax,” she said. “But you need to remember sometimes you can’t handle things all by yourself. Sometimes the only way to solve a problem is by bringing an expert in to help you.”

  “Bradley told you?” she asked.

  Nodding, Dr. Thorne met Mary’s gaze. “You are a strong woman,” she said. “But you are also smart and I hope you realize there is nothing wrong with going to someone to talk about your feelings and your fears.”

  “Yes,” Mary responded. “I know and I’m not afraid to seek help if I need it.”

  Dr. Thorne smiled. “And if others suggest highly that you might need it,” she said. “You might want to consider they may have a better perspective than you.”

  “Understood,” she agreed.

  “Good!” the doctor said, standing. “Now I’ll pull Bradley out of here so you can get dressed. I’ll have the nurse back in here with your discharge papers in the next 20 minutes or so.”

  The ghost was still there and Mary knew there had to be a connection between the ghost and her doctor. “Dr. Thorne,” Mary said, before the doctor pulled the curtain aside. “Why did you become a doctor? Was your father a doctor?”

  She shook her head. “No, my father was actually a Chemistry teacher at the high school. He died in an explosion at the high school when I was a little girl.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  “I regret not knowing who he really was,” she said. “I missed not having a father.”

  “Well, I’m sure he’d be proud of who you are,” Mary said.

  “Thank you, Mary.”

  Chapter Four

  “I can’t believe you tried to lie to Dr. Thorne,” Bradley said, chuckling, as he helped Mary up the stairs of her home.

  “I didn’t lie to her,” Mary replied, punching in the code for the lock. “I just didn’t explain in great detail.”

  “You told her you had a doctor living with you,” Bradley clarified, opening the door and following Mary into the house.

  She turned back and placed her hands on her hips. “Well, Ian’s a PhD, so he’s a doctor.”

  “So, Mary, me darling, are you asking me to play doctor with you?”

  “No, she’s not,” Bradley said firmly. “But you do get to help play nursemaid.”

  “I don’t need a nursemaid,” she insisted, “Or a bevy of them for that matter.”

  She leaned against the wall, surprised at how exhausted she was just from the trip home.

  “How are you feeling, there?” Ian asked, leaning forward and placing a kiss on her cheek.

  She smiled up at him. “I’m good,” she said. “It’s good to be home.”

  “Would you like some lunch?” he asked. “I’m making haggis.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

  “Well, darn it. I ate at the hospital before I came home,” she said with a sigh, “And I so wanted to try haggis.”

  “Well, I made plenty,” he teased. “Day old haggis for breakfast.” He rubbed his stomach. “Yum.”

  She laughed and turned to Bradley. “You can take me back to the hospital now,” she jested. “Ian has final
ly found a way to keep me there.”

  “No way, we have you here and now we’re in charge,” Bradley said, pushing the door behind him.

  A gust of wind caught the door and it slammed against the frame. Mary paled and pushed herself against the wall, her breath catching in her throat.

  “Darling, what’s wrong?” Ian asked, moving toward her.

  “No,” she cried out, raising her hands to ward him off. “Please don’t come closer.”

  “Damn it,” Bradley said softly. “I’m sorry, Mary. That was a stupid thing to do.”

  She turned to him, her eyes wide and frightened. “He slammed the door,” she whispered. “When he came to see me, to hurt me, he slammed the door.”

  “It wasn’t him; the wind just caught the door, that’s all. You’re safe now,” he said calmly. “You’re safe and Ian and I will protect you. He can’t hurt you ever again.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath, sinking against the wall. “I’m sorry, Ian,” she whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder, “Just a bad reaction.”

  Bradley scooped her up into his arms. “Come on, Mary. I think you’ve had enough excitement for today. Ian, help me get her up to her room.”

  “I’m fine,” she whispered weakly against his chest.

  “Aye, he knows your fine,” Ian teased softly, gathering her things and following Bradley up the stairs. “He just has to show off his muscles every once in a while to keep you impressed.”

  She chuckled softly. “Well, I am impressed.”

  Bradley held her tighter and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Good, it worked.”

  The three made their way to her room. Ian pulled her covers back and Bradley placed her gently on the bed. Ian leaned back behind her and plumped up the pillows and Bradley tucked the blankets around her.

  Then the two men stepped back and looked down at her.

  “I think she needs a wee dram of tea,” Ian said to Bradley, “With a touch of honey in it.”

  Bradley nodded. “And toast,” he added. “She needs toast and…scrambled eggs.”

  “Aye, scrambled eggs, the very thing,” Ian agreed. “You know how to make them, don’t you?”

  “Can’t be that hard,” Bradley reasoned, “Crack some eggs together and fry them in butter.”

  “I’m not very hungry,” Mary inserted.

  “I think you add some cream to the eggs,” Ian said, ignoring Mary’s comment. “And then you add salt and pepper.”

  “That’s right,” Bradley said. “And we could put jam on her toast.”

  “Aye, or marmalade,” Ian added. “Orange marmalade is the cure for most anything that ails you.”

  “Really,” Mary tried again, “I’m not hungry.”

  “Well, fine, I’ll start the kettle,” Ian said, walking to the door.

  “Great, I know where she keeps her frying pan,” Bradley said, joining him.

  The door closed behind them. Mary sat in the bed, shaking her head, a smile spreading across her face. With nursemaids like those two, I won’t have to worry about anything.

  Her gaze moved to the other door across the room. The bathroom. She would give anything for a shower. She lifted her arm and sniffed. Oh, gross!!! A shower was a definite necessity.

  She pushed the blankets off, slipped to the edge of the bed and placed her feet on the floor. Taking her time, she stood and assessed her strength. I feel good, she told herself. I feel good enough to march across this room and take a shower.

  She ventured to her dresser and pulled out clean undergarments, and her loungewear of choice, Chicago Police Department sweats. Then she carefully walked across the room to the tiled bathroom.

  She leaned into the shower and adjusted the multiple shower heads and the temperature of the water. Turning the water on to heat, she pulled a large fluffy bath towel from the shelf and hung it on the hook next to the shower door. Reaching in, she let the water run over her hand and smiled at the perfect temperature.

  After slipping out of her clothes and dropping them in the hamper, she stepped into the shower. She closed her eyes in pure bliss as the hot water sluiced over her skin and massaged her sore muscles with pulsating sprays. Reaching up to the shelf that held her bath products, she grabbed her body wash, poured a generous amount onto her sponge and inhaled the refreshing citrus scent. Turning in the shower, she began to reach for her shampoo and froze in her tracks. As steam filled the small enclosure and fogged up the glass, words started to appear on the door of the shower as if written by an invisible hand. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”

  Mary screamed and jumped back, knocking into the wall and causing her bath products to come crashing down on the shower floor. She grabbed the towel, quickly wrapped it around her wet and soapy body and began to step out of the shower just as the final two words appeared. “Love, Mike.”

  “Mike!” Mary yelled, as she stormed wet and dripping from the bathroom. “Mike, I know you can hear me!”

  She ignored the thundering of two sets of male feet up the stairs and stood in the center of her room, hands on her hips. “I know you’re there!”

  “Mary! Are you okay?” Bradley yelled as he and Ian burst into the room.

  “Mike! Answer me!”

  “Did the doctor say anything about strange behavior?” Ian whispered to Bradley.

  Mary turned and glared at Ian.

  “Sorry,” he said, ducking behind Bradley.

  “Mary, what’s wrong?” Bradley asked.

  “Mike,” she called out again, ignoring Bradley. “Get your dead butt down here.”

  “Nice outfit, Mary,” Mike said when he appeared in the middle of the room. He looked around. “What? Are we having a party?”

  Mary tucked in the edge of her towel for a tighter grip. “The rule was no entering my bathroom,” she said. “You broke the rule.”

  “What?” he asked, then realization hit. “Oh, crap, I forgot about my note.”

  “Yeah, well, I really didn’t appreciate the surprise,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “Oh, Mary, I’m so sorry,” he said, moving closer. “It was just meant to be a joke.”

  “Well, it wasn’t funny,” Mary said, wiping the water from her brow. “At least, it wasn’t funny today.”

  “What did he do?” Bradley asked, moving toward the shower.

  “You can see him?” Mary and Ian asked simultaneously.

  Bradley fished in his pocket and pulled out the glass stone Mike had given him. “Yeah, he let me use the magic stone Ian gave you, so I could see him,” Bradley explained.

  “I didn’t give Mary a stone,” Ian said, “Magic or otherwise.”

  Bradley looked across the room to the vase filled with similar stones and then turned to Mike. “Magic stones?”

  Mike grinned. “You had the ability in you all the time, you just needed a little confidence in yourself,” he said. “And, obviously, it worked.”

  “You thought my glass beads were magic?” she chuckled.

  She looked over the vase on her dresser, but then caught their reflection in the mirror. Her hair was wet and dripping, her skin was still covered in lather and her bath towel reached only about half-way down her thighs. She moved one hand and adjusted the towel’s edge behind her; just to be sure nothing was hanging out. The other hand clasped the towel edge that was tucked into the middle of her chest. She felt the blush start at her face and move down to her toes.

  “Okay, well, everything’s fine,” she said. “You can all leave now.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need…” Ian began.

  “Very sure, thanks,” Mary interrupted, walking backwards to the bathroom.

  “I could help…” Bradley offered.

  “Oh, no,” she interrupted again. “I’m good.”

  They still stood there, not moving, concern on their faces. This calls for drastic action, she thought.

  “Do I smell eggs and toast burning?” she asked, sniffing the air.

  “Oh,
the toast,” Ian said, rushing from the room.

  “I thought I turned those eggs off,” Bradley yelled as he hurried down the stairs.

  Mike grinned at her. “Good job,” he said, and then his grin disappeared and his face grew thoughtful. “I am sorry. You know I would never do anything to upset you.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I do,” she acknowledged with a smile. “Now get out of my bedroom and stay the hell out of my bathroom, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled, and then faded away.

  Chapter Five

  “So, how is she really doing?” Ian asked Bradley, as they waited for Mary to finish her shower.

  Bradley shook his head. “Well, physically she’s fine, a little weak, but good. However, Dr. Thorne wants us to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t sleep for too long.”

  “And the not-physically part?” Ian asked.

  Sighing, Bradley sat down in a chair next to the kitchen table and put his head in his hands. “She’s suffering a kind of Post-Traumatic Stress from Jeannine’s memories and from her own kidnapping.”

  “Ahhh, well that explains the episode near the door,” Ian said, leaning over the kitchen counter. “So, what can we do to help her?”

  Bradley looked up at Ian and shook his head. “It’s got to come from her,” he said. “We can be patient and supportive, but she has to decide when and if she’ll go and get help.”