Final Call (9 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Although it was still daylight, the
thick cloud cover and continuous barrage of snow gave the day the feeling of an
early twilight. Bradley pulled into Mary’s driveway and had to fight through
the drifts to reach the top. “The Roadster would have never made it this far,”
Mary sighed. “I hope she’s okay.”

“Albers Towing is going to pick her up
with a flatbed as soon as the storm lets up,” he said, turning off the cruiser
and turning to her. “She’ll be fine.”

Mary smiled at him. “So your
knight-in-shining-armor complex extends to my car too?”

He shrugged.
“Just
figured it would make you feel better.”

She felt an overwhelming surge of
gratitude and love for him. In the past few weeks she’d done everything to put
distance between them and yet, as soon as she needed him, he was there, taking
care of her. She knew when she told him about Jeannine things would change
forever, for better or for worse, nothing would be the same. So here in his
car, sheltered from the winds and snow, could be the last time she could show
him how much she loved him. Sighing, she leaned forward in the car and placed a
tender kiss on his lips. “Thank you,” she said.

He caught her before she could move
back. He took a moment to study her face, saw the love in it and then slid his
hands over her face and into her hair. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed
her lightly once, then once again before finally crushing his lips against
hers.

She moaned softly as he deepened the
kiss. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she moved as close to him as she could
get, lying over the gearshift in the middle of the cruiser.

With a muffled oath, strong arms lifted
her and she was nestled in his lap, crushed against his chest. He continued his
onslaught, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She melted against him, giving
back as much as he was offering.

Finally, he lifted his head and inhaled
deeply. He looked down at Mary, cuddled securely against him, love shining from
her eyes, lips swollen from the kisses they shared and cheeks pink with
emotion. He gently ran his hand over her hair. “You really don’t hide the truth
very well,” he teased softly.

He felt Mary stiffen in his arms.

“What do you mean?” she asked, the
rosiness fading from her cheeks.

“Hey, it’s no big deal,” he comforted,
placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “It’s just that you don’t hide your
emotions very well. I can see love glowing from you.”

She smiled up at him, but her eyes
didn’t seem quite as happy this time. “I do love you, Bradley,” she said. “I
hope you will always remember that.
No matter what.”

He grinned. “That sounds so serious,”
he teased.

“It is serious,” she replied and this
time, he could see she meant it.

“Okay,” he said. “I promise I will
remember that no matter what, you love me.”

She smiled and it sounded to him that
she breathed a sigh of relief. Then she looked around the interior of the cruiser.
“Um, Chief Alden, we seem to have steamed up the windows,” she giggled. “What
will the neighbors think?”

He leaned down and with his lips just
inches from hers whispered, “That I’m the luckiest guy in town.”

He lowered his lips and kissed her
again, he started to deepen the kiss when Mary shivered in his arms. He pulled
back and realized the interior of the car was cold. “Why didn’t you mention you
were getting cold?” he asked, zipping up her jacket and wrapping her scarf more
securely around her neck.

“Actually, I didn’t notice,” she
replied honestly.

Chuckling, he lifted her over the gear
shift and put her back in her own seat. “In case the neighbors are watching,”
he said, with a twinkle in his eye. “It would cause all kind of talk if you and
I got out of the same door.”

She giggled. “That’s very considerate
of you, Chief.”

“I live to serve.”

They slogged through the knee high snow
and hoisted their way up Mary’s snow covered steps. Once inside, Mary reached
for the light switch and, to her delight, the lights worked.

“Bonus!” she said. “We have power.
How about some food?”

“That would be great,” he said.

“Why don’t you start a fire in the fireplace,
while I make dinner?” she suggested. “I can make bacon, lettuce and tomato
sandwiches and tomato soup, does that work for you?”

“Perfect,” he said. “Quick and it will
hit the spot.”

She unbuttoned her coat, threw it on a
chair in the kitchen and pulled the bacon out of the refrigerator. She turned
and found Jeannine standing on the other side of the counter waiting for her.

“There’s really no point in putting
this off,” Jeannine said. “You need to tell him.”

“He needs to eat first,” Mary insisted.
“At least let me make him something to eat.”

Jeannine shook her head. “Mary, he has
to know and the sooner the better.”

Mary placed the bacon on the counter
and slowly nodded. Taking a deep breath, she walked back into the front room. Bradley
had taken his coat off and was kneeling in front of the fireplace, starting the
fire. His broad shoulders stretched the material of his uniform as he hefted a
large piece of wood into the fire. She fought the fear and casually made her
way to the couch. “Bradley, remember you asked me why I needed to go out today
and I told you it was important?”

He continued lighting the fire. “Yes,”
he replied.

“I went to Sycamore,” she said and saw
his shoulders tense. “I went to your old house.”

He put the match down and turned to face
her. “Why would you do that?” he asked, confusion written on his face.

She looked over at Jeannine who had
entered to room and was standing only a few feet away from Bradley. She stood
and knelt down in next to him. “I was looking for a client,” she said, “a
client who came to me on Christmas Eve and asked me to help her.”

“I’m still confused,” he replied.

She reached forward and took his hand
in hers. She could feel the tears forming behind her eyes. “A client who made
me promise not to tell anyone about her existence,” she added, pleading with
her eyes for his understanding. “A client who has finally agreed to let me tell
her husband that she’s dead.”

Bradley kept his eyes glued on Mary. He
shook his head as understanding and fear filled his eyes. “No,” he whispered.

The tears behind her eyes slipped
forward and she nodded mutely. His grip tightened on her hands and he pulled
his eyes away from hers and slowly searched the room.

She felt his hands jerk and tighten on
hers when he finally saw Jeannine.

“Jeannine,” he whispered.
“Oh, God, Jeannine.”

He dropped Mary’s hands and moved
towards his wife, only to have her disappear. He turned back to Mary, anguish
evident in his tightened jaw and silent plea. She quickly stood and walked with
him to Jeannine. He placed one hand on Mary’s shoulder and was, once again,
able to see his wife.

He lifted his hand to caress her cheek,
but it went through her. He dropped his hand and balled it into a fist.

“Jeannine,” he choked, “I don’t
understand.”

“I died, Bradley,” she explained. “I
died a long time ago.”

“But, I never found...I had always
hoped...” he stuttered.

“I know you wanted to find me,” she
said. “Mary told me how many years you searched for me. How many years you put
your life on hold for me.”

She smiled at him and lifted her hand,
stroking his face. He could feel nothing but cold. He lifted his free hand and
tried to place it over hers, but couldn’t.

“Mary told you?” he repeated. “Why did
you go to Mary? Why didn’t you come to me?”

She smiled sadly. “I tried, but you
didn’t want me to be dead, Bradley. So you never saw me.”

“If you had just tried again,” he
insisted. “If you had trusted me...”

He turned and looked at Mary, his eyes distant.
“If you had both just trusted me.”

“Bradley,” Mary began, and then
stopped. She could feel his grip on her shoulder lighten, as if he was loathe
to continue touching her, but caught, because he needed to see Jeannine.

“There’s nothing you can say, Mary,” he
said through clenched teeth.
“Nothing.”

He took a deep breath and turned back
to the ghost of his wife. “Who killed you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know,” she
said. “And I can’t rest until he’s found. Mary already has some clues that
might help us.”

He turned back to Mary and she felt her
heart break inside her chest. The distance and disappointment in his face were
apparent. “I find myself in the difficult position of asking for your help,” he
said woodenly. “I hope that you’ll be willing to help. Of course, I’ll pay you
for your time.”

Mary closed her eyes for a moment,
forcing the tears back. She nodded. “Of course I’ll help you,” she replied with
a shuddering breath. “And payment will not be necessary.”

He shook his head. “No, I insist that
this is strictly a business relationship,” he said; he paused for a moment and
then added, “And I also insist on complete honesty.”

She took a sharp breath, wounded by the
jab.
How many times can a person’s heart
break?
Mary wondered.

“Of course,” she said, masking her
emotions. “I can assure you that won’t be a problem.”

“Bradley, this isn’t Mary’s fault,”
Jeannine said. “I insisted...”

“Jeannine,” he interrupted. “I will do
everything in my power to find the person who killed you. I swear.”

“But, Bradley,” she began again. “You
don’t understand.”

He shook his head. “I understand that I
failed you once and I’m not going to fail you again.”

Jeannine sighed. “Oh, Bradley, you
haven’t failed me...yet.”

She started to fade away.

“Jeannine wait,” he called desperately.
“Don’t go.”

She stopped and stared at him,
disappointment in her eyes. “Bradley, I’ll come and see you again when I think
you can deal with it.”

Then she disappeared.

He looked at the space she had occupied
for a moment and then he stepped away from Mary. He scooped up his coat and
headed to the door. “I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t stay for dinner,” he
said, without turning towards her.

The door slammed shut and Mary slowly
sunk to the ground. She placed her head in her hands and started to cry.

“Are all men that stupid?” Mike asked, appearing
next to her on the floor.

The box of tissues on the coffee table
levitated in the air and floated to him. He grabbed it and offered one to Mary.

“New trick I just learned,” he
explained, when she lifted an eyebrow in his direction. “It’s amazing the
things I can do now.”

She blew into the tissue, took a deep
breath and tried to smile, but failed.

“Sorry, kid, I can’t fix broken
hearts.”

Grabbing several more tissues, she
broke out in a new bout of tears.

The refrigerator door opened and several
bars of dark chocolate floated in her direction.
“Chocolate?”
Mike suggested.

She shook her head.

“Not even chocolate,” he sighed. “You
really do have it bad.”

She wiped the tears away with impatient
movements. “I don’t have it bad,” she protested. “He was mean. He was rude. And
he was thoughtless. And I don’t deserve to be treated that way.”

Mike nodded. “I agree. And he just got
the shock of his life. All of his greatest fears stood before him. He didn’t
save his wife – she died.”

Mary froze in the midst of her tirade
and sighed.

“And he was an idiot, but men tend to
do idiotic things when they are confused and feeling guilty.”

“Why in the world would he feel
guilty?”

“Well, one
– because he didn’t save his wife.
Two – because he didn’t solve the case
and find out she was murdered. And three,” his voice softened and he moved
closer to Mary. “He realized that he doesn’t love his wife as much as he loves
you. That’s a hell of a lot of guilt.”

“But if he loves me so much, why did he
hurt me so badly?”

“Because
he’s a stupid man.”

She grabbed two more tissues, blew her
nose vigorously and took a deep shuddering breath. “You’re right,” she agreed.
“He’s stupid and I’m...I’m...I’m still in love with the jerk.”

Mike grinned. “You show him, tiger.”

Mary couldn’t help it; she smiled.
“Shut up and pass me the chocolate.”

Chapter Seventeen

Bradley floored the accelerator pedal
on the cruiser and nearly drove into a snow bank. He took a deep breath and
tried to get a grip on his emotions.
Jeannine
is dead.
He waited for the pain, for the sharp clenching in his gut. But
all he felt was sorrow and guilt.

The radio crackled. “Chief, this is
Dorothy, come in, Chief Alden.”

He pressed the button of the
walkie-talkie and was connected to Dorothy, his administrative assistant.
“Dorothy, it’s Bradley,” he said. “What’s up?”

He listened as Dorothy precisely listed
the calls they’d received, the responses to the calls and the status of every
officer on duty.

“Great job, Dorothy,” he replied. “It
sounds like things are slowing down a bit.”

“Yes, I think most folks are home and
planning on staying put,” she said.

“Okay, I’m heading to my place to get
some work done,” he said. “If you need me, don’t hesitate to call.”

He suddenly realized that Dorothy had
been manning the phones all day and, because of the roads, might be stuck in
the office all night. He really didn’t want to drive her home, but he sure
didn’t want her to take her two-wheel drive car to her house.

“Dorothy, do you have a ride home?”

“I’m not going to even try to make it
down our country road,” she said. “The plow drivers tell me it’s really bad out
there. So, I’ve got a room at the Hampton. I’ll walk over in a few minutes.”

“Put it on the department’s account,”
Bradley said. “And add a nice dinner for yourself too. You would have made it
home safely if you hadn’t stayed and helped out.”

“Thanks, Chief,” she said. “That’s very
nice of you.”

“Just want you to know that I
appreciate the work you do for the department.”

“You’re a nice man, Chief,” she said.

“Thanks,” he replied shortly. “Call me
if anything comes up.”

Pressing the garage door opener, he put
the cruiser in four-wheel drive low and barreled through the snow into the
secure confines of his garage. The door closed behind him, leaving him feeling
separated from the rest of the world. He reached in his back pocket and pulled
out his wallet. Flipping past the credit cards and cash, he found what he was
looking for. The photo was worn at the edges and slightly creased in the
middle. It showed a younger version of himself with his arms wrapped around
Jeannine. They were standing in front of their home in Sycamore. He remembered
they had just signed the papers and the house was theirs. Their real estate
agent had taken the picture.

He studied Jeannine’s face. She was
laughing up at him with love in her eyes. And trust. She trusted him and he let
her down. She had been murdered and he hadn’t solved the case.

With a curse, he placed the photo back
in his wallet, put it back in his pocket and left the car. He pushed open the
door between the garage and his kitchen. He strode through the house to the
bedroom he used as an office. Whipping off his coat and tossing it aside, he
opened a file cabinet and pulled out a group of thick manila files. He sat at
the chair, turned on the overhead lamp and opened the first file.

Four hours later Bradley realized all
he had for his efforts was a headache and a stiff neck. He got up and walked
into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water and washed down some pain
tablets.

Looking around the room, he saw that
his windows were covered with a layer of frost. The picture window that looked
out on his deck from the dining room was half-frosted over. Realizing that the
house was actually pretty cold, he turned up the thermostat.

The rumbling emitted from his stomach
reminded him he hadn’t eaten in quite a while. He opened the cabinet above the
kitchen counter, grabbed three Oreo cookies and a glass for some milk. It
wasn’t the most nutritious dinner, but he was on the verge of starvation, so it
was a good start.

He scanned the cabinet for other
options and spied a can of ravioli.
Looks
like I’m having Italian for dinner
, he thought,
not as appetizing as BLTs and tomato soup.

He shook his head.
No, I am not going to think about her.

Sighing, he suddenly remembered another
set of eyes that had looked up at him with love. He remembered the way she had
stiffened when he told her she wasn’t good at hiding the truth. He should have
realized something was wrong from her reaction. But, no, he was so locked in
her spell, he couldn’t think clearly.

An inner voice told him he wasn’t being
fair, but at that moment, he really didn’t care. He had trusted Mary and she
betrayed him. Who knew how long she had kept things from him? Who knew how many
other secrets she kept hidden away?

“She’s done nothing but lie to me,” he
said aloud. “I can never trust her again.”

A slight scratching had him turning around
and facing the picture window. Something had been scratched into the frost. He
moved closer until he could make out the message.

You
are an idiot. She is a treasure.

Sincerely,

Fireman
Mike