Read Treasured Legacies (A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery) for Free Online

drawers, who the hell do they think they are?”
    “This might seem like an odd question,” Mary said. “But
what’s the last thing you remember doing on your farm?”
    He paused for a moment, walked over to the back door and
stared outside. “Why, I fed the calves,” he said slowly, “Just like I do every
night.   Had Buster, my
dog, with me.   I remember it was
getting a might chilly and I could tell winter wasn’t too far off.”
    “Then what did you do?” Mary asked.
    “I watered the calves and then…,” he stopped and then turned
to her. “The door to the grain silo was open.   Sometimes those boys are just careless.   Full grown men and they can’t even remember to latch the silo door. I
need to remember to talk to them about that.”
    “So, did you latch the door?”
    “Well, let me see now,” he said, scratching the side of his
misshapen head. “I remember going into the silo, just to be sure no one was in
there.   You don’t want to be caught in a
locked silo during the harvest.”
    “That makes sense,” Mary said. “Was anyone in there?”
    “No. It was all cleaned out, ready for the corn,” he said.
“The boys were out in the field with the combines and the trucks, trying to get
the grain in before we got rain.   They
were working like crazy ‘ cause they waited until the
last minute again.   I told them they
could have pulled that grain in a week earlier, but no, they wanted a couple
more days of drying.   Don’t know what good
that did anyhow.”
    “Do you remember latching the door?” Mary asked. “Or talking
with your sons?”
    “I…I remember looking around the inside of the silo,” he
said slowly. “And then… And then I remember hitting my head. Can’t imagine what
I’d hit my head on, but it knocked me off my feet and onto the ground.   I woke up a little while later and…”
    He stopped, turned back to the door and looked out the
window. Mary could see he was still running the event through his mind.
    “What the hell?” he said softly and then turned and met
Mary’s eyes. “I don’t remember getting out of the silo.   I don’t remember anything…”
    Eyes widening, he shook his head. “I didn’t leave, did I?”
    “No,” Mary said. “You didn’t leave. You got trapped in there
and died.”
    “I died?” he asked, his voice hoarse and unsure. “I’m dead?”
    He glided past her, rushing into the dining room.
“Greta!   Greta, where are you?”
    Mary turned to Rosie who had been standing back next to the
doorway to the great room. “Who is Greta?” she asked.
    “Greta is, well, was, his wife,” Rosie said. “They moved her
to an assisted living home because her kids didn’t think it was safe for her to
be living out here all by herself.”
    “All by herself?” Mary asked.
“Didn’t the kids live close by because of the farm?”
    “Oh, no, most of the farm property was sold off years ago,”
Rosie said. “All they had left was the house and these five acres.”
    “Well Dale is not going to be happy about that,” Mary said.

Chapter Eight
    Mary climbed the stairs to the second floor and found Dale
sitting in the middle of the master bedroom sobbing.   He looked up when Mary entered the room.
    “Is my Greta dead too?” he asked.
    Mary sat down on the wood floor next to him. “No, she’s
still alive. She’s older now and needed a little more help, so she’s living in
an assisted living home.”
    “How’s she doing?” he asked.
    “I don’t know,” she replied. “I haven’t met her yet. But I
would be happy to go to her and bring her a message from you.”
    He didn’t answer, just looked around the room. “So, is this
hell?” he asked. “Being stuck in a place that holds all your memories, but you
sit here without the people you love?”
    “It probably seems like hell,” Mary agreed. “But, no,
actually you’re still on earth.”
    “I’m dead, but I’m still on earth. What am I, a ghost?” he
scoffed.
    “For