The Three Wise Guides by Terri Reid Page B

across his chest.
    Jumping up,
her chair crashing against the kitchen floor, she faced her brother. “Just who
the hell do you think you are?” she shouted.
    He leaned
forward, so they were face to face. “The guy you nearly died for,” he said
quietly. “And I’m not going to give you the chance to die again.”
    She took a deep
breath and saw the pain in his eyes. “This wasn’t your fault.”
    “Yeah, you
keep telling me that and maybe someday I’ll believe it,” he said, stepping away
from her and picking up his jacket and cap. “In the meantime you report to me.”
    He glanced
over at his mother and nodded apologetically. “Sorry for the drama, Ma,” he
said. “And thanks for breakfast.”
    Mary stood
frozen in place and watched him walk out the back door, slamming the door
sharply behind him.  
    Tom came up
behind her and picked up her chair. “Sit down and eat,” he encouraged.
    Slowly
sinking into the chair, she shook her head. “I had no idea…” she began.
    “Yeah, well,
the good news is that he must think you’re strong enough to handle it,” Art
said, grabbing another piece of toast and slathering it with jam. “Or you still
wouldn’t know.”
    “But how did
he…” she stopped.
    Her dad’s
big hand clasped both of hers. “Mary, darling, Sean heard the shot, turned and
saw you fall. He was the one who picked you up, bleeding and broken, and
brought you to the hospital.   They had to
forcibly pull him out of the room; he didn’t want to leave you.”
    “I didn’t
know,” she whispered, now mortified at her outburst.
    “And how
would you know?” her mother asked. “He didn’t want anyone to say a word. But
now that you’re working with him, it’s only fair you know.”
    “Thank you,”
she said, staring down at her breakfast, her stomach now churning and the food
now looking unappetizing. “I guess I’d better get going. I’d hate to be late
for my new job.”

Chapter Three
    Sighing with
disgust, Mary strolled down the shoveled concrete path that wove through the
Grant Park.   Except for a few brave
joggers, the park was fairly deserted in the sub-zero temperatures.   Even gang-bangers had the good sense to stay
in out of the cold and Sean knew it.   That’s why patrolling the empty and safe park was her newest assignment.
The trees had lost all their leaves and stood, covered in an icy white coating
of frost, as silent sentinels along the walkway.   The fluted water fountains had been turned
off for the season and looked like large concrete cake plates filled with a
layer of meringue.  
    Pigeons
still rambled around the undersides of the benches, where the snow was light;
searching for some crumbs they had missed in earlier forays. Mary glanced
around to be sure she wasn’t being observed, and then pulled a plastic bag out
of her parka pocket and sprinkled the bread crumbs on the ground.   The birds, who were considered by many in the
city as merely winged rodents, gratefully feasted on the bounty.
    “That used
to be my job,” a deep voice stated from behind her.
    She jumped
and turned, her hand instinctively reaching for her gun, but once she had
whipped around, she found herself facing a frozen empty park.   Even the joggers were too far away to be
heard.   She took a deep breath, closed
her eyes and faced an awful truth.   She
was mentally unstable.   She had been
hearing voices and seeing things out of the corner of her eye since she woke up
on the operating table.   The accident
must have caused a post-traumatic reaction that caused this reaction.   There was no denying it at this point, she
was certifiably nuts.
    “You ain’t nuts,” the voice said. “You just ain’t looking at us the right way.”
    Mary’s eyes
shot open and she stared at the empty park. “Who said that?” she whispered.
    “Don’t get
all bent out of shape,” the voice insisted. “You’re just too uptight, that’s
why you can’t do your job.”
    Looking all
around