Free Stolen Dreams by Terri Reid Page B

promise I’ll
do all I can to make sure we get you home.”
    “Thank you,” Marty said, a tear rolling out of his eye,
across the bridge of his nose and across his cheek to land on his shoulder. “I
think I’d like going home.”
    “Yes, I think you’d like it, too,” she said.
    With a bright smile, he slowly faded away until he was no
longer in the room.   “Well, that took a
lot less time than I had expected,” Mike said.
    “What took a lot less time?” Mary asked, walking back across
the kitchen and picking up the ice cream and spoon.
    “Finding out the reason,” he said.
    She scooped a spoonful into her mouth. “The reason for what?”
she asked around a mouthful of ice cream.
    “The reason you had to have the article printed in the
paper,” he said.
    She put the ice cream down and stared at him, astonished.
“Wow, you’re right,” she said. “That is amazing. I guess everything is on the
right track after all.”
    Mike nodded. “Yeah, what could possibly go wrong?”

Chapter Eighteen

 
    Mary absently took another bite of the ice cream while she
considered Marty and his situation.   Sol
had given her the creeps the moment she met him, and now she wondered if that
was her years of law enforcement training kicking in, rather than her ghostly
abilities.   She pictured the tall,
well-groomed, assertive man and wondered if he would be capable of murder.
    “Sharing?”
    She nearly jumped off the kitchen stool when Bradley’s voice
interrupted her thoughts.   She looked up through
the dim lights to see him standing next to the silverware drawer, reaching for
his own spoon.   With a relieved smile,
she slid the carton of ice cream over to him as he took a seat on the stool
next to hers.   He stuck his spoon in,
scooped out the ice cream and took a bite. “Actually,” he said, his mouth
filled. “I was referring to your thoughts.   But this stuff is really good.”
    He slid it back so it was between the two of them. “So,
what’s going on?”
    “I had a visitor tonight,” she said. “A
middle-aged fellow who died during the summer.   And I have a feeling he’s connected to a man
that stopped by my office yesterday.”
    “And by yesterday, you mean two days ago, right?” Bradley
said, glancing over at the clock than now read 1:00 a.m .
    Following his glance, she smiled and nodded. “Yes, right,
two days ago,” she repeated. “Stanley and Rosie were at my office and we were
talking about the barrage of calls I received because of the article—“
    “You didn’t tell me about that,” he interrupted.
    “Well, I was going to before we were interrupted by the
street brawl,” she said. And then in a lighter tone she added, “Oh, Bradley, by
the way, I was barraged by calls yesterday at the office because people read
the article about me.”
    Grinning, he nodded. “Well, thanks for telling me, Mary,” he
replied before he scooped up another spoonful. “Now you may continue.”
    “Thank you,” she teased. “So, while I was telling them, this
business man, Sol Atkinson, walked into the office, totally ignored both of
them and then proceeded to tell me that he was going to allow me to increase my
exposure and publicity by verifying that his house was haunted.”
    “Well, how nice of him,” he replied sarcastically.
    “That’s exactly what I thought,” she said with a nod. “So I
politely told him, as Ian would say, to piss off.”
    “I’m sure he wasn’t too happy about it,” he said with a
smile.
    “No, he wasn’t,” she said. “So he slapped a check for five
thousand dollars on my desk and told me he’d be in touch at the end of the week
because he was sure I’d change my mind.”
    Bradley dropped his spoon. “Five thousand dollars?” he
asked. “That’s a lot of money just for someone to say you’ve got ghosts in your
house.”
    “Yes, I thought so, too,” she said, digging into the carton
again. “And then tonight I met Marty.”
    “And you think Marty