Town Haunts

by Cathy Spencer

  Reaching the sidewalk, Anna paused, stuffing her hands in her pockets. There was no way that she could persuade May of Sherman’s guilt unless she had some bona fide evidence. And Erna had already said that her ideas were half-baked when it came to Sherman. If she weren’t careful, she’d end up estranging both her friends, and then what help would she be?

  Anna started down the sidewalk; she always thought better on the move. If Erna were here, she’d tell her to use logic and emotional detachment to solve the problem, but if there was one thing Anna had learned over the past week, it was that she and her friend approached problem-solving differently. Maybe she was impetuous; didn’t that mean she was good at thinking outside the box? And what she needed was to come up with a fresh approach.

  So, to reiterate her dilemma, Henry had been murdered, and she was afraid that Sherman had killed him. And why was that a problem? Because she was afraid that he might hurt May and Erna. Fair enough, but was that likely? Sherman was still staying with Father Winfield, and with May housebound, she and Sherman hardly saw each other anymore. And there was another point: the police already had their doubts about Sherman because of the counterfeit money, and with Henry being hanged on Sherman’s lawn, there was plenty to keep them interested in him.

  So, even if Sherman were a murderer, all she had to do was keep her mouth shut and wait for the police to arrest him. If she were wrong about him, well, there was nothing that she could do to help the investigation, was there? John had just told her to keep her nose out of police business, hadn’t he? So, not doing anything was a win/win solution to the Sherman problem.

  Anna walked past Erna’s house and smiled, feeling like a new woman. She was going to turn over a new leaf ‒ no more sticking her nose into other people’s business. From now on, Anna Nolan was going to play it safe!

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Feeling as if she deserved a little self-indulgence after her hard work, Anna decided to have a Saturday night in with a bowl of popcorn and a new mystery novel. Erna had called during the afternoon to report that no one at the store had any inkling as to Henry’s whereabouts once he was back in town, or even a guess as to where he had been hiding. She had also come up with the theory that Henry must have committed suicide due to the absence of a stool or ladder at the crime scene, and they had congratulated each other on their mental acuity.

  “But we’re no closer to divining poor Henry’s killer,” Erna had said.

  “No, afraid not,” Anna replied, sticking to her resolution not to repeat her concerns about Sherman. “Give it some time, though. I bet you’ll figure it out before the police do.”

  Erna had laughed and said, “Thank you for your faith in me.” Their conversation had ended on a high note, and Anna was pleased that their earlier discord seemed to be healed.

  Ben had also called to check up on her when he had finished work. “Are you scared being by yourself, Mom? Do you want me to come stay with you tonight?” he had asked.

  “No, that’s okay. I’m actually feeling pretty good. I had a talk with John Fox Child this morning, and he seems to have more up his sleeve than he’s letting on. I’m sure that the police are on top of things. If I were scared, I could sleep on Erna’s couch again tonight, but that’s not necessary. I’m going to start a new book and go to bed early. How about you? You put in a full day of work after finding Henry’s body last night. You must be exhausted.”

  “Yeah, I am a little tired, but I’m planning to meet up with some friends at a club later, so I wanted to call you first to see how you were doing.”

  “You’re going out?”

  “Sure.”

  Anna had chuckled. “The resilience of youth, taking death in its stride.”

  “Yeah, well, what am I supposed to do?”

  “Nothing, honey. You have a good time, and I’ll call you if anything happens before I see you again next Friday.”

  “Okay, Mom. Sleep well.”

  “Night.”

  Anna had just pulled the popcorn out of her microwave and had settled down on the couch when someone knocked on her front door. Sighing, she shuffled to the foyer with Wendy trailing behind her, pausing to check the peephole before opening the door.

  “Hi, Anna,” Steve said, pulling off his hat. The bandage had been removed, and she could see where his hair had been shaved for the stitches.

  “Oh, look at your poor head!” she exclaimed.

  He touched it self-consciously. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” She shut the door behind him, and he followed her into the living room. “Have a seat,” she said, indicating the recliner. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  He checked his watch. “No thanks, I have to be on duty in twenty minutes. I just wanted to talk to you first.”

  “All right,” she said, sitting down on the couch. “What’s up?”

  He sat down beside her. “I wanted to warn you to be careful. We don’t have the autopsy report on Henry back yet, but the preliminary findings show that he was murdered.”

  Anna paused before saying, “I sort of guessed that already.”

  “You did? How?”

  “There was no ladder on Sherman’s yard, so how did Henry hang himself?” Steve nodded. “What did the preliminary findings show?”

  “That he was garrotted. The mark was still visible on his throat when the rope was removed. Someone garrotted him first, and then hanged him.”

  “Yuck,” Anna said, touching her own throat. “That’s horrible.”

  “The murderer must have thought that the rope would obliterate the signs of the garrotting, but it didn’t work. The coroner still found them.”

  Anna remained silent, her hand still at her throat.

  “You okay?” Steve asked, touching her arm. “I don’t want to scare you, but I want you to be careful with a murderer on the loose. Don’t worry, though, we’re investigating a very strong lead with the Calgary police. The friend Henry was staying with and who posted his bail is definitely a person of interest.”

  She nodded. “Thanks for telling me, Steve. You always look out for me.”

  He gazed into her eyes until Anna felt uncomfortable and glanced away. Did he still harbour feelings for her even though he was seeing Tiernay? “How are you feeling?” she asked aloud. “Tiernay seems to be taking good care of you.”

  Steve snorted. “I felt better after I went home yesterday morning. Turns out the tea she was giving me was made from valerian root. It’s used for pain relief, but also to treat insomnia. Between that and the pain meds I had from the doctor, it was no wonder I was feeling wobbly.” He stood up. “I’ve got to be going.”

  “I’m sure that she was just trying to help. She seems to really care about you,” Anna said, rising and following him from the room.

  “Yeah, she and I got pretty close this past week,” he replied, pausing by the door.

  “Um, it’s none of my business, Steve, but isn’t she kind of . . ?” Anna paused, searching for the right word.

  “Wacko?” he added with a sudden grin.

  “Not quite the way I was going to put it,” Anna said with an answering smile. She opened the door.

  Steve shrugged. “She’s got some pretty different notions about how the world works, and she can be a lot of work herself, but we’re having a good time. We’ll see how things go.”

  Anna laid her hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re taking your time with her, Steve. I worry about you too, you know. You’re a good guy.”

  “Thanks, Anna.”

  She stretched to kiss his cheek. “Be careful out there, all right?”

  “Always am.”

  She smiled and pushed the screen door open, glancing outside. A hooded figure in a long robe waited in the moonlight upon her lawn. As Anna gasped, the creature came floating up the yard toward her.

  Chapter Thirty

  Steve reached past Anna to switch on the porch light. The figure stopped at the bottom of the porch stairs and th
rew back its hood. Tiernay’s hair blazed in the light, and her eyes flashed with anger.

  “Were you following me?” Steve demanded.

  “No. I was coming to see Anna. I sure didn’t expect to see you here. I saw her kissing you!” the young woman sputtered.

  “It wasn’t anything, Tiernay. I’ve only been here for five minutes. Anna and I are just friends,” he responded.

  Tiernay glared at him. “I haven’t seen you since yesterday morning, since before Henry’s body was discovered. How come, as soon as there’s any trouble, you come looking for Anna and not me? Are you sure that’s all she is to you ‒ just a friend?”

  “Sure.” He climbed down the stairs to close the distance between them. “Just friends,” he repeated, resting his hands on her shoulders. Tiernay slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. The kiss mounted in intensity as it continued for several long seconds. Anna looked away, and when she looked back again, Tiernay was glowering at her over Steve’s shoulder.

  “I’ve got to go to work now, honey. Everything okay here?” Steve asked. Tiernay raised her eyes to study his face before smiling and relaxing.

  “Everything’s okay. I can read you like a book, you know.” She stroked the side of his cheek and kissed him again. “Have a good night at work. I’ll see you later.” Breaking away from Steve, Tiernay sauntered up the stairs to the porch. Steve looked at Anna from behind his girlfriend’s back, his eyebrows raised inquiringly. Anna grimaced back at him. Great, he was leaving her alone with Tiernay. The young woman paused beside Anna, waiting to be invited inside.

  “Bye, Steve,” Anna said in a resigned tone. “Come on in, Tiernay.” She held the door open for her unwelcome guest, and then followed her into the house. Shutting the door, she was about to lead Tiernay into the living room when the young woman turned and seized her arm. Wendy, who had been watching everything from inside the house, growled a warning.

  Ignoring the animal, Tiernay said, “I need your help.”

  “With what?” Anna asked in alarm.

  Tiernay released Anna’s arm and reached deep into her cloak pocket to remove a black wooden box.

  “What’s that?” Anna asked, her eyes drawn to it. The box was about five inches wide with glossy pink and white roses painted on its lid.

  Tiernay opened it, and music began to play. Anna inhaled sharply; the song was “Lara’s Theme.” “Where did you get that?” she stammered.

  “I found it in Greg’s studio among his drawing things. I was looking for my pen, and I thought he had taken it. I didn’t realize what the box was until I opened it. It must be Evelyn’s.”

  “What was Greg doing with it?”

  “How should I know?” The two women looked up from the box; Tiernay’s eyes were troubled. “I’m going back to Sherman’s house to have a look around. I want you to come with me.”

  Anna frowned. “Why me?”

  “Who else can I ask? You want to know the truth about Evelyn’s ghost, don’t you?”

  “Why don’t you just ask Greg about the music box?”

  Tiernay shook her head, her lips pressed together.

  “Why not?”

  “Don’t you see? If Greg has had this all along, he’s been using it to enhance Evelyn’s psychic manifestations without telling me. What else has he been up to? We’ve always told each other everything. All of a sudden, I feel like I can’t trust him anymore. I have to go back to the beginning to figure out what he’s been hiding from me. If I find something at Sherman’s house, I want you to witness it so that you can back me up when I confront Greg.”

  Anna shook her head. “I don’t want to be put in the middle of your problems with your brother. The two of you have to work this out together.”

  Tiernay took a step closer to Anna and stared down at her with steely-eyed determination. “You want me to fix this problem with Evelyn’s ghost, don’t you? Well, I have to know what I’m dealing with. Help me. Come with me to Sherman’s house.”

  Anna studied the young woman’s face for a long moment before sighing. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” Tiernay’s smile was triumphant as Anna said, “All right, let’s get this over with.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The two women paused on Sherman’s porch, Anna glancing over her shoulder to make sure that no one saw them. She tried turning the knob, but, just as she expected, the door was locked.

  “How’re we going to get inside?” she whispered.

  “Where’s your flashlight?” Tiernay asked. Anna removed it from her pocket and switched it on. “Shine it on the lock.” Tiernay pulled a crochet hook and a slender metal tool from her pocket and began fiddling with the lock. A minute later, the door clicked open.

  “After you,” the young woman said with a lofty smile. Anna passed into the house with a cool, appraising glance at Tiernay. What other tricks did she know?

  The living room smelled musty. “Don’t turn on the lights,” Tiernay warned.

  Anna nodded and swept her flashlight around the room. The light caught the dreary furniture and the family portrait. Anna didn’t let the light linger on the portrait for long; Evelyn’s blue eyes seem to be watching them. “What are we looking for?” she asked.

  “Wires. Speakers. Anything Greg might have used to fake the music. I haven’t been back in here since the séance, but Greg has. Let’s see if he left anything behind.”

  The women searched the house, starting with the cabinet in the dining room where the fog machine had been secreted, and continuing room by room through the first and second floors, but there was no sign of anything that indicated how the music had been faked. Anna paused in Sherman’s bedroom to note the meagre collection of clothing and personal items inside the closet and the bureau. She saw a framed picture of Evelyn on the bedside table and picked it up. The photograph captured Evelyn as a beautiful young teenager with a carefree expression on her face. That expression had vanished by the time she was photographed for the family portrait.

  “She was a knock-out,” Anna murmured.

  Tiernay glanced at the picture over Anna’s shoulder. “Yeah, not at all like a murdering, soul-sucking harpy.” She took the frame from Anna’s hands and set it back on the table. “Come on, Greg said there’s an attic upstairs.”

  They found a door opening onto a steep flight of wooden stairs leading to the attic. Anna took her time climbing them, trying not to inhale the stale, dusty air too deeply, and hesitated at the top to shine her light around the room. The roof slanted down to the floor on the outer edges, but the ceiling was high enough to stand up in in the middle. A jumble of cardboard boxes was piled against the exterior wall.

  It was chilly, and Anna shivered. “No insulation in these old houses. It must be freezing in the winter,” she said. There were no windows, either, but a string hung down from a solitary light bulb in the middle of the room. Tiernay brushed past her to turn it on.

  “Wait a minute,” Anna said. Tiernay paused to look at her over her shoulder. Anna gestured at the floor with her flashlight. “See those footprints in the dust? Someone’s been up here recently.”

  Tiernay nodded. “It was probably Greg,” she said, switching on the light. “Let’s look for clues in those boxes.”

  They crouched down beside the pile. The boxes were folded shut and had no markings to identify what they contained. One small box sat on its own beside the pile; Tiernay opened it and peeked inside. She pulled out a wicker basket and unfastened the lid. “Sewing kit,” she said, showing Anna spools of thread, a package of needles, and a scissors. Placing the basket on the floor, Tiernay reached back inside and pulled out a silver comb and matching hair brush with long, blond hairs still attached. They exchanged a glance. “Evelyn’s,” Tiernay said.

  They examined the rest of the boxes and discovered a jumble of feminine items, including clothing and shoes. Some of the items were worn-out and should have been discarded. One heavy box contained a collection of well-thumbed cookboo
ks, romance novels, and magazines. At the bottom of the box lay the family bible. Anna opened it and studied the front pages. Sherman and Evelyn’s birth and marriage dates and their sons’ birth and baptismal dates were inscribed within in a fine, cursive script. Anna closed it and lay it carefully back inside the box on top of the other books.

  Finally, there was nothing left but a rectangular white box with a lid. Anna opened it and dropped the box with a start. The inner lining was clear plastic, and through it she saw what appeared to be half a female torso. Tiernay picked up the box and inspected the contents more closely.

  “It’s just a wedding gown,” she said, smirking at Anna.

  “Evelyn’s,” Anna said, straightening from her cramped position and dusting her hands off on her pants. “It looks like everything Evelyn ever owned has been boxed and dumped up here without sorting through it first. It’s pretty sad to think that this is all that’s left to show of Evelyn’s time on earth.”

  “The music box was probably in one of these boxes,” Tiernay said. “Greg could have found it on the day he was supposed to be helping me to prepare for the séance. I was in the dining room all afternoon casting purification and protection spells, but he could have been doing anything in the rest of the house.”

  “So, just to reiterate, Greg rigged the fog machine and the music?”

  Tiernay nodded. “I was supposed to knock on the table and turn on the fog.”

  Anna folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. “What about the trance, Tiernay, and the things you said to Sherman? Did you and Greg plan what you were going to say ahead of time?”

  Tiernay shook her head. “Erna came to the store to ask me to tell Sherman that Evelyn loved him and that everything was fine. I asked for some background information about the two of them so that I would know how to say it, and she told Greg and me how unhappy their marriage had been. After Erna left, Greg and I agreed that if Evelyn’s spirit was disturbed, it had to be something to do with her death. That she hadn’t died accidentally, and that she needed Sherman to find out what had really happened. I could feel her presence in the room during the séance, and I knew that she was angry. The trance was real, and so were the things I said.”