enough to help Bradley financially when he had continued his search for Jeannine. He knew the house wouldn’t still have been his without Gary’s help.
Bradley ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes for a moment. But he knew those old memories weren’t the cause for the unsettled feelings near his heart. When Ian had announced Mary was pregnant, he immediately remembered his dream. In it Mary had been eight months pregnant. He could easily recall the pressure of her swollen body against his, the feeling of their child moving against him when they were embracing and the rightness of her in his arms. But at the end of the dream she had walked away, married to someone else.
All because he had chosen Jeannine. He suddenly sat up straight.
Had that been a warning?
He had never considered himself superstitious, but in his dream Mary told him she was married to Mike, a ghost. Would you have to be dead in order to be married to a ghost? Was Mary’s life at risk because of Jeannine’s investigation?
He leaned forward in his chair and placed his head in his hands. What were his choices at this point? Jeannine was Mary’s client and there was no way Mary would drop the case. He knew her well enough to know she would not be worried about her own safety.
Sitting back up in the chair, he scanned the monitor and found her in the camera screen in the front hall. She was smiling at Gary and waving good-bye.
“What do you want from me, Mary O’Reilly,” he whispered, at the screen.
He could hear her response in his mind. “Trust me.”
He would just have to have faith. Trust Mary. That’s what she had asked for, and if it killed him, he would trust her.
Once Gary left, Mary hurried over to the computer. She moved the screen back to face the room and unclicked the mute button.
“So, did you hear the conversation?” she asked.
Bradley nodded. “Yeah, but you don’t have to worry about Gary,” he said. “He’s as good as gold. He actually helped me when I was searching for Jeannine.”
“So, you wouldn’t put him on your list?” Ian asked.
“No, never,” Bradley said. “I’d trust him with my life.”
Chapter Eleven
Mary came out of the bathroom dressed in her favorite sleeping attire, a large t-shirt and sweatpants, turned off the lights and climbed onto the bed. She felt a little strange sleeping in the Master bedroom, the same bed Bradley and Jeannine had shared. But Ian had suggested that it would probably be the best place for her because Jeannine would gravitate to that room. She moved the pillows against the headboard, leaned back against them and pulled her laptop into her lap.
She powered it on and clicked on the video conferencing software. In a moment she was connected with Bradley who was still sitting at his desk.
“Planning on staying up all night, Chief?” she teased.
“I was hoping you’d call,” he replied. “How are you doing?”
The sound of his voice, deep and slightly rough, was heightened by the intimacy of sitting in his bed in the darkened bedroom. Mary felt it wash over her like a silken wave.
“I’m good,” she said, keeping her voice to a whisper. “I like your house.”
“I dreamt about you in my house,” he said.
Laughing softly, she snuggled against the pillows. “Was I chasing bad guys?”
He chuckled. “No, actually, you were cooking dinner.”
“Well, how domestic of me.”
“Extremely,” he said. “And, I have to tell you, exceptionally sexy.”
She felt her cheeks burn and was grateful of the darkened room. “How is cooking dinner sexy?”
“Well, it was a pot roast,” he replied with a quiet laughter.
“Oh, well then, I totally understand,” she said. “Pot roast can be a stimulating experience.”
“Exactly! I came into the house and you were standing in front of the stove. In my dream, I initially thought you were Jeannine, but then when I slid my arms around you and pulled you into my arms, I discovered it was you,”
Bradley ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes for a moment. But he knew those old memories weren’t the cause for the unsettled feelings near his heart. When Ian had announced Mary was pregnant, he immediately remembered his dream. In it Mary had been eight months pregnant. He could easily recall the pressure of her swollen body against his, the feeling of their child moving against him when they were embracing and the rightness of her in his arms. But at the end of the dream she had walked away, married to someone else.
All because he had chosen Jeannine. He suddenly sat up straight.
Had that been a warning?
He had never considered himself superstitious, but in his dream Mary told him she was married to Mike, a ghost. Would you have to be dead in order to be married to a ghost? Was Mary’s life at risk because of Jeannine’s investigation?
He leaned forward in his chair and placed his head in his hands. What were his choices at this point? Jeannine was Mary’s client and there was no way Mary would drop the case. He knew her well enough to know she would not be worried about her own safety.
Sitting back up in the chair, he scanned the monitor and found her in the camera screen in the front hall. She was smiling at Gary and waving good-bye.
“What do you want from me, Mary O’Reilly,” he whispered, at the screen.
He could hear her response in his mind. “Trust me.”
He would just have to have faith. Trust Mary. That’s what she had asked for, and if it killed him, he would trust her.
Once Gary left, Mary hurried over to the computer. She moved the screen back to face the room and unclicked the mute button.
“So, did you hear the conversation?” she asked.
Bradley nodded. “Yeah, but you don’t have to worry about Gary,” he said. “He’s as good as gold. He actually helped me when I was searching for Jeannine.”
“So, you wouldn’t put him on your list?” Ian asked.
“No, never,” Bradley said. “I’d trust him with my life.”
Chapter Eleven
Mary came out of the bathroom dressed in her favorite sleeping attire, a large t-shirt and sweatpants, turned off the lights and climbed onto the bed. She felt a little strange sleeping in the Master bedroom, the same bed Bradley and Jeannine had shared. But Ian had suggested that it would probably be the best place for her because Jeannine would gravitate to that room. She moved the pillows against the headboard, leaned back against them and pulled her laptop into her lap.
She powered it on and clicked on the video conferencing software. In a moment she was connected with Bradley who was still sitting at his desk.
“Planning on staying up all night, Chief?” she teased.
“I was hoping you’d call,” he replied. “How are you doing?”
The sound of his voice, deep and slightly rough, was heightened by the intimacy of sitting in his bed in the darkened bedroom. Mary felt it wash over her like a silken wave.
“I’m good,” she said, keeping her voice to a whisper. “I like your house.”
“I dreamt about you in my house,” he said.
Laughing softly, she snuggled against the pillows. “Was I chasing bad guys?”
He chuckled. “No, actually, you were cooking dinner.”
“Well, how domestic of me.”
“Extremely,” he said. “And, I have to tell you, exceptionally sexy.”
She felt her cheeks burn and was grateful of the darkened room. “How is cooking dinner sexy?”
“Well, it was a pot roast,” he replied with a quiet laughter.
“Oh, well then, I totally understand,” she said. “Pot roast can be a stimulating experience.”
“Exactly! I came into the house and you were standing in front of the stove. In my dream, I initially thought you were Jeannine, but then when I slid my arms around you and pulled you into my arms, I discovered it was you,”
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