Veiled Passages by Terri Reid

if you were so damn good at investigation, why are you still a ghost?  Why haven’t you found out who killed you?  And, how in hell were they able to get in your room, murder you and leave without a trace? I’m trying to protect my family here, not add to your portfolio.”
    Peter was humiliated and ashamed. He stepped away from Mary and the onslaught of her angry words. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, beginning to fade away before them. “I truly only wanted to help.”
    Immediately contrite, Mary shook her head and lifted her arm to stop him. “No, Peter, please stay,” she apologized. “I’m tired, I’m frustrated and I’m afraid. But that was no reason to say the things I did.  Please forgive me.”
    Peter came back into full view. “No, don’t apologize,” he said. “I understand pressure and frustration; I should have waited with my offer until the morning.”
    “Hey, were you really, like CIA?” Mike asked.
    Peter nodded. “Something like that,” he said. “I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you.”
    “Yeah, well, too late,” Mike replied with a laugh. “So you’ve done stake outs and stuff like that?”
    “Yes, stake outs were routine,” he said.
    “Well, okay, how about you and me heading downstairs and we patrol the house all night, so Mary can get some sleep,” Mike suggested, and then he turned to Mary. “You got two dead guys watching over you. If that doesn’t comfort you, nothing will.”
    Surprised that she actually felt calmer, she nodded, “You’re right,” she said. “I do feel comforted. I’d appreciate the help.”
    “And then, once you’re rested, you can tell me what else I can do to help,” Peter added. “But this dead fellow here is right, you need some sleep.”
    “That’s guardian angel dead fellow to you,” Mike said.
    Intrigued, Peter turned to him. “Really? A guardian angel. That’s somewhat like Special Forces in heaven, isn’t it?” he asked, as he and Mike began to fade away. “I would really like to learn more…”
    They both disappeared and Mary shook her head in incredulity. No one, absolutely no one, would believe what went on in her life. She scooted down in her bed, laid her head down on the pillows and snuggled into her blankets.  “I know I’m not going to get any sleep tonight,” she said, as a yawn escaped her lips. “I’m far too tense. And too worried. And far too…”
    The soft breathing slipping from her slightly parted lips whispered through the room. Mike reappeared, smiled down on her and nodded knowingly. “Yeah, there’s no way you would sleep tonight,” he whispered. “Sleep tight, Mary.”
    He glided across the room, turned off the light and faded away.
     

Chapter Twenty-three
    Bradley, watching from his car parked down the street, saw the light go off in Mary’s bedroom and breathed a sigh of relief. Mike had promised he’d get her to rest for a while. Shaking his head, he allowed himself a small smile. And if you can’t trust a guardian angel, who can you trust ?
    He had told her not to worry, but he knew she would still be concerned.  He had told her that once his plan had been foiled, there would be no way he’d show up again.  But they both knew that Gary Copper was not a usual suspect.  He was mentally unstable, so there was no telling what he might or might not do.  The recent report from the FBI profilers had indicated that he had deviated from his projected course when he killed his lawyer.  Up until then the killings had been through poisoning or, in the case of his wife, by accident.  The brutal murder of his lawyer told them his instability had escalated and his moral constraints had lessened.  He was, quite simply, a person who was driven only by his desires and had no compunction about killing whoever got in his way.
    Taking another sip of soda, he leaned back against the headrest. He hadn’t told Mary he’d brought the FBI in to the case.  He thought if she knew that, she’d