“I can’t believe you didn’t call me, Mom. I could have come out and stayed with you,” he protested.
“I know, but you had mid-terms, and I didn’t want to bother you.”
“That’s crazy! Who cares about school when some psycho is running around town with an axe?” He got up from his chair to fetch another bowl of soup from the pot on the stove. “What did the police have to say when they came to Erna’s house after she called the police on Frank?”
“Not much. They listened to Judy’s story and left to check out the garage door.”
“Well, you haven’t been taking Wendy for any bedtime walks, have you? Just out into the backyard to let her do her business and back in again?” He straddled the chair and sat down again with his full bowl.
“I sure didn’t take her for a walk last night when I finally got home.”
Ben sighed. “I wish that you’d move further into town. I don’t like you being so isolated out here.”
“That’s just what Erna and May said when I stayed with them this past week. Don’t worry, honey, I’ll be extra careful until this business gets sorted out. I’m glad you’re home tonight, though. Wendy hasn’t had a decent walk for days. We can take her together after we’re done eating.” The dog sighed from where she lay beside Ben, and he reached down to ruffle her fur.
“Poor girl, we’ll take you for a walk right after supper,” he said. Wendy lifted her head, suddenly alert. “Right after dessert,” Ben added, eyeing the pan of brownies that Anna had also defrosted.
A half hour later, Ben waited while his mother slipped the cell phone and flashlight she always carried at night into her coat pocket and pulled on her gloves. Wendy sat at her feet, coiled to spring as soon as Anna made a move for the door.
“Ready for your walk?” Anna asked, attaching the leash to the dog’s collar. Wendy bounced to her feet and trotted beside Anna as she flicked on the porch light and followed Ben from the house.
They turned right at the bottom of the driveway and headed for the old part of town. It was an overcast night with banks of white cloud masking the moon. Dry leaves skittered ahead of them as they strolled down the sidewalk. Anna shivered in the frosty air and pulled her hood up over her head.
“You warm enough?” she asked Ben. He was hatless, and his hands were inside his coat pockets.
“Sure. I’m never as cold as you are.” Striding along beside him, Anna tucked her hand into his arm. Funny; their roles were reversed now. She was looking to Ben for support and protection when, not so long ago, she had been the one watching out for him. Anna sighed. The days of leading Ben by the hand were gone.
They paused mid-block to allow Wendy to relieve herself. As they waited, something rustled in the bushes beside them, and Anna jumped. Ben grinned at her.
“Nervous?”
“A little. It’s probably just the wind or a squirrel or something.” Only the intersections had street lights, so the stretches of sidewalk between the corners were pitch black unless someone had their outside lights on. Wendy finished her business, and they continued up the street.
Halloween was only three days away, and many of the front porches boasted pumpkins, straw bales, corn stalks, and even more elaborate decorations. Anna loved Halloween. She had been shy as an only child, but something about wearing a costume and racing around in the dark had emboldened her. One year, her neighbourhood had even closed the street to host a bonfire. Anna and the other kids had danced around the fire and played blind man’s bluff until they were exhausted and cold. Then they and their parents had toasted marshmallows over the embers and drunk hot chocolate out of thermoses. To this day, the scent of wood smoke and the sight of children dashing up and down the street on Halloween night always brought happy memories back to her.
Rambling down the sidewalk, Anna noticed that one house had gone all out with its ghoulish decorations. The owners had erected a mini-cemetery on the lawn complete with gravestones and wooden coffins, green lighting adding to the spooky atmosphere. A dark figure hanging from a tree twisted back and forth in the wind, while another figure lay in an open coffin with a knife handle protruding from its gruesome chest. Anna grimaced.
“Looks more like Nightmare on Elm Street than Halloween to me,” she said. “We used to go in for scary stuff when I was a kid, not gore.”
“Yeah, well there were only Frankenstein and Wolf Man movies when you were young, right?”
“Not quite,” Anna said. “We even had colour TV back then, smart-ass.” Ben grinned, and she smiled back at him.
They passed Erna’s house and St. Bernadette’s Church. Not surprisingly, the street outside the cemetery was deserted and the gate was closed, not that Anna fancied another stroll among the tombstones.
“How far are we walking?” Ben asked. “I’m surprised you want to go anywhere near the cemetery after what happened to you on Wednesday night.”
“Do you mind if we walk by Sherman’s house? No one’s seen him for six days, and May’s worried. I want to see if there are any lights on inside the house.”
Ben looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “I wondered why we were headed this way. I don’t mind, if you’re not scared, but it’s pretty creepy out here, especially with no moonlight. Who knows what disgusting things might come slithering out of the graveyard.” He chortled, crooking his fingers as if he were going to attack her, but Anna smacked him in the shoulder.
“Cut it out, okay? I’m not crazy about being here, either, but I’m doing it for May’s sake.”
“Okay,” Ben said, sobering and looking suitably chagrined.
Two-thirds of the way past the cemetery, Anna could see that there were no lights on in Sherman’s house and the front yard was dark. Either he was in bed, or Sherman was holed up somewhere else. Her curiosity unsatisfied, she was about to suggest they turn back when Wendy growled. Anna slowed, looking down at her pet.
“What’s the matter, girl?” she asked. But the dog was ignoring her, staring straight ahead at the caretaker’s house. Wendy’s growl increased to a deep-throated, threatening rumble.
“What’s got into her?” Ben asked. Anna peered at the house, but there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. All the same, Wendy strained forward on her leash. Anna slipped the flashlight from her pocket and flicked it on.
“Come on,” she said.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Ben said, trailing after her.
They stopped on the sidewalk out front of the house, Wendy stiff-legged and alert. Anna trained her flashlight over the yard, past the two big trees and into the bushes encircling the front windows. Nothing there, as far as she could see. She tried shining her flashlight along the side of the house, but there wasn’t anything there, either. Abruptly, Wendy threw back her head and howled.
Anna froze, her breath catching in her throat. Wendy had howled like that on only one other occasion, and things had turned out very badly afterward.
“What do you think it is, Mom?” Ben whispered, his fingers digging into her arm.
“Shhh,” she said, her eyes swivelling over the house. She strained to listen. The leaves were shimmering in the wind, sounding just like rain, and the tossing tree limbs made a rhythmical creaking noise.
Anna exchanged a look with Ben, and they began inching their way up the leaf-strewn lawn. Wendy tried to scramble ahead, but Anna hauled her back on the leash. They circled the two trees and came to a stop outside the windows. Anna shone her light inside, but it reflected back, preventing them from seeing. She pressed her nose against the glass and cupped her hands. All she could see was the outline of the living room furniture.
Anna suddenly sensed something moving behind her and ducked. She pivoted; there was nothing there. She glanced at Ben. His eyes were huge as he stared back at her. Slowly, Anna trained her flashlight up into the tree.
A dark figure hung from a branch, its head lolling forward on its chest. The body swayed on its rope, moving back and forth, back and forth, crea
k . . . creak . . .
There was a sign hanging from its neck. One word was written in bold, black, capital letters on crude cardboard.
“MURDERER.”
Anna screamed.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Anna stood behind the ambulance wrapped in a quilt. Ben stood beside her with his arm around her shoulders. Two cruisers were parked behind them, their red and blue lights rhythmically sweeping the street.
“Here,” a paramedic said, handing them each a paper cup containing hot fluid. Anna gripped hers with both hands and raised it to her lips. It was tea loaded with lots of sugar. She didn’t like tea, but she sipped at it anyway to ward off the after-effects of shock. Wendy lay at her feet, her eyes fixed on the police personnel cordoning off the caretaker’s yard with yellow tape.
John Fox Child was busy by the tree where the body had been taken down. Anna looked away, not wanting to know what he was doing. A third cruiser pulled up behind the others, and Steve clambered out from behind the wheel. He looked much better than he had the night before, his hat covering the bandage she knew lay beneath. Steve opened the back door, and Anna’s eyes popped wide as Sherman climbed out onto the sidewalk. He limped around the back of the cruiser to the other side and opened the door, removing two crutches. Leaning them against the car, he extended his hand inside, and May emerged. As Sherman helped her out of the car, the front passenger door swung open, and Erna slid out. John walked over to join the group, with Steve leaning against the car.
“Thanks for coming, Sherman,” John said. “I’d like you to have a look at the crime scene, see if you notice anything. I’ll warn you, the body’s not pretty. Ladies, why not join Anna and her son over by the ambulance?” He pointed in their direction, and May and Erna turned to look at them. John took Sherman’s arm, Steve lifted the tape, and they led Sherman up the lawn toward the trees.
Erna helped May hobble down the sidewalk as Anna hurried forward to meet them, Ben and Wendy following close behind.
“You found Sherman,” Anna said, catching up to them. “How?” As she looked from May to Erna, Ben took May’s other arm, and they all walked slowly toward the ambulance.
“Sherman called us,” May said with a shrug. “He’s been staying at the parish house with Father Winfield all this time. He tried going back to his own house, but he just couldn’t stay. Too rattled. Plus, he found a message from the police on his voice mail saying they wanted to talk to him. Something about counterfeit money being passed at the store. There’s still a lot of suspicion over why he was let go from the bank, and Sherman couldn’t deal with that and Evelyn, so he asked Father Winfield to hide him for a while. But things changed when you found the body tonight. The police called Father because the caretaker’s house belongs to the parish, and Father told Sherman that he had to cooperate with the police. Sherman agreed, but he wanted to talk it over with us first. You could have knocked me down with a feather when he walked into Erna’s living room, I’ll tell you. But we all agreed with Father that Sherman should cooperate with the police, so he called them from Erna’s. They wanted him to have a look at the crime scene, but he refused to come without us.” Reaching the ambulance, May collapsed onto the tailgate with a heavy sigh.
Now that her arm was free, Erna hugged Anna. “What a terrible thing to have happened to you. I’m so sorry that you had to go through this again,” she said, patting Anna’s back. Erna turned to look at Ben. “I’m so glad that you were here with your mother,” she added. He nodded, looking grim.
“How’re you holding up, doll? You have the worst luck for finding bodies,” May said.
Anna shuddered, remembering the previous spring when she had found her ex-husband’s body on a country road while on a bed-time walk with Wendy. “It’s Henry Fellows this time.”
“So Steve told us,” Erna said.
“What’s Henry doing here? I thought he was still in jail in Calgary,” Anna said.
“Steve told us about that, too,” May replied. “Our boys called the Calgary police after identifying Henry’s body, and they said that Henry had been bailed out of jail the day after he turned himself in, apparently by the friend he was staying with. The friend said that Henry’s been missing for two days, though.”
“You’d think the Calgary police would have contacted our guys about that,” Anna said.
Erna shrugged. “Apparently not.”
“Did you hear about the sign?” Anna asked, her eyes straying for a second toward the three men standing beside Henry’s body.
“No. What sign?” May asked.
“There was a sign hanging around Henry’s neck.” It said ‘murderer.’”
“Murderer? Is that all?” Erna asked with a frown. Anna nodded.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” May asked. “That Henry was a murderer?”
“I guess so,” Anna said, sitting down on the tailgate beside her. Wendy stuck her head into Anna’s lap, and she absent-mindedly patted the dog.
A small crowd had gathered across the street, attracted by the cruiser lights and all the activity at the crime scene. The observers wore hats and coats over their nightclothes, chatting and watching the police go about their grim business as if they were at a football game. Occasionally, newcomers arrived, and their neighbours filled them in on what was happening.
“Who is Henry supposed to have murdered?” Erna asked.
Anna shook her head, distracted by the crowd. Someone had caught her eye, a woman dressed in a long cloak pushing her way to the front. The hood covering her head did not quite mask the bright red hair. It was Tiernay. The young woman turned, as if feeling Anna’s gaze, and stared back. They looked at each other for a moment, until Tiernay nodded and disappeared back into the crowd.
Anna frowned. Tiernay didn’t live anywhere near the cemetery. How had she found out about the death so quickly?
“A suicide note? Kind of short for a suicide note,” May was saying.
“What?” Anna asked, turning back to her friends.
“Don’t forget what Henry said at The Diner,” Erna added. “He accused Frank of ruining his life. What if Henry felt that he couldn’t go through the disgrace of another trial? He might have decided to end it all, and put that sign around his neck as a final accusation against Frank.”
“You mean that Henry was calling Frank a murderer?” May paused to consider. “I suppose it’s possible, but Henry should have written, ‘Frank murdered me,’ if that’s what he meant to say. Why be so ambiguous?” She glanced up at Anna. “What do you think?”
Anna shook her head. “The thought never occurred to me. I’ve been so worried about Evelyn’s ghost and all the pranks lately that Henry’s death just hasn’t sunk in yet. Speaking about Evelyn, remember Sherman saying that Henry had been giving Evelyn trouble about the bylaws?”
“Yes,” Erna said. “Sherman said that there was a bylaw preventing Henry from putting in his drive-through window.”
“Well,” Anna said, trying to piece her thoughts together, “what if Henry came back to talk to Evelyn about his drive-through on the day she died?”
“Surely someone would have seen him at the office,” Erna said.
“Evelyn was the last to leave that day. What if Henry came in just as she was getting ready to go? They could have quarrelled, and Henry might have pushed her down the stairs in a fit of temper. Or he might have killed Evelyn to keep her quiet about the bylaw.”
“I don’t know,” Erna said slowly, pursing her lips together. “I’m reluctant to think that Henry would have murdered Evelyn over a drive-through window. Besides, that theory only works if no one else at the town office knew about the bylaw.”
Anna pushed on, too muddled to worry if her reasoning was sound or not. “But Sherman said Evelyn had re-organized the files. Maybe it was some obscure ordinance she had come across that no one else remembered. There’s not much call for a drive-through window in this town.”
“Wait a minute,” May said. “I hate to bu
rst your balloon, Anna, but if Evelyn had turned down Henry’s application, wouldn’t there have been a paper trail citing the bylaw?”
“And we still have no evidence that Evelyn was murdered. As far as the police investigation went, her death was an accident,” Erna added.
Ben stared at the three women. “You’re making me dizzy just listening to you,” he said.
Erna laughed. “Poor Ben. You’re not used to hearing us speculate.”
Anna rubbed her eyes. It was late, and she felt wrung-out from discovering Henry. “You two could be right ‒ Evelyn’s death may have just been an accident.”
“Maybe. And Henry’s death was probably a suicide,” May said.
“Otherwise,” Erna added, “who murdered Henry?”
“Yes,” Anna said as all three women turned to look at John and Steve deep in conversation with Sherman. “Who could have murdered Henry?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Steve dropped Anna, Ben, and Wendy home later that night after they had signed their statements, and Anna had a terrible sense of déjà vu, remembering her ex-husband’s murder investigation as she unlocked the front door and went to bed. She woke Ben at eight the next morning so that he could make it to his part-time job in Calgary by nine. Going back to bed to snooze for another half hour, she got up, smoothed on some moisturizer and lipstick, and was at The Diner for breakfast by nine. Mr. Andrews was seated at the end of the counter next to Erna and May with no newspaper in sight, wonder of wonders. Anna collapsed onto an empty stool beside them, still feeling exhausted.
“I was going to pick you two up if you weren’t here,” she said, speaking to May. “How’d you get in this morning?”
Town Haunts Page 16
