“Hi, Sherman,” she said, walking up to his bed. “I thought a chrysanthemum might brighten up your room.”
“Thanks, Anna. Good of you to come,” he responded, taking the yellow-and-orange potted plant from her hand and setting it on his tray. “Have a seat.”
Anna set her coat on the back of the chair, dropped her purse onto the floor, and sat down.
“How are you feeling?” she asked with a bright smile.
“Good. I’m going to be discharged on Friday.”
“Great. Glad to hear it. What are your plans for after that?”
“I’m going back to my house. May said that she and Erna would look in on me every day.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Anna said, her head bobbing up and down. She glanced at the young family at the next bed, wondering how she was going to introduce the topic she so wanted to discuss. Sherman was watching her warily when she looked back, and she decided that now was as good a time as any to broach it.
“Listen,” she said, leaning toward him, “I wanted to tell you how beholden I am for what you did for me in the cemetery. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t saved me.” Sherman nodded, a smile of relief flickering across his face. “By the way,” she added, “what were you doing in the cemetery that night?
Sherman didn’t answer for a long time. Finally, he said, “Look, Anna, would you mind drawing the curtain around the bed? We need to talk in private.”
“Sure,” Anna said, getting up to do as he requested, but knowing that the flimsy curtain gave only the illusion of privacy.
Sherman waited until she was reseated before he started talking. “I was in the cemetery that night because I knew something was up when they found Henry on my front lawn,” he said in a low voice. Anna drew her chair closer, not wanting to miss a single word.
“See, Father Winfield was keeping me up to date with the town news while I was hiding out at the parish house. It made no sense to me. I could understand Evie’s ghost looking for me at May’s apartment, but why would she come after you at your house? She didn’t even know you when she was alive. And taking an axe after Judy? Evie would never have done that ‒ she was too much of a lady. Plus, I knew someone was trying to frame me for the counterfeit money at the store.” Sherman shook his head. “Something was up, and it wasn’t a ghost. I might have my bad moments, but I’m not stupid.”
“How long were you in the cemetery before you found me?”
“Not long. I’d walked the ring road, watching for anything unusual. When I got to the back gate, I found it open with a car parked just inside. I knew someone was up to no good, so I went to the tool shed to get my shovel. I thought I’d better have something with me, just in case. I went to Evie’s grave because that’s where I’d seen the lights the first night, and then I heard you scream. I ran toward you as fast as I could. That Cabrero fellow was trying to strangle you. It was lucky for me that you broke away from him. Gave me a better shot at hitting him without hurting you.”
“Lucky for me, you mean,” Anna said, taking his hand and squeezing it. “But Sherman, I’ve got to ask. What you said to me after your heart attack.” She bent down and whispered, “When you said that you’d murdered your wife ‒ was it true?” She tried to look into his eyes, but he turned his face away.
“Yes, it was true,” he said, the words dragged from him.
“But how did it happen?” Anna asked, still holding his hand. “You seemed to love your wife so much.”
“I did,” Sherman said, gazing back at Anna. “I didn’t mean to kill her. Evie and I didn’t always get along, that was true, but I’d never hurt her. First, there was the trouble at the bank. Things had never been easy for her parents, but Evie thought they could make improvements to the farm and turn it around enough to sell it. Problem was, they didn’t have the money. They’d applied for a loan, but the farm already had two mortgages on it. That’s when Evie convinced me to falsify their assets and approve the loan. As the manager, I was able to get away with it. But then her parents started missing payments, the loan came due, and they couldn’t pay. I changed the term date on the papers, but I was found out. I cashed in all our personal investments to pay off the loan so that her parents wouldn’t lose the farm, but the bank still fired me. Evie was so angry when I lost my job, but she couldn’t blame it on me.” He shrugged. “I started drinking, we lost our house, the kids got upset, and . . .”
Sherman paused, looking away until he could master his emotions. Anna patted his hand and waited.
“We hit rock bottom when we moved into the house next to the cemetery. Evie wanted us to move to Calgary instead, but I just didn’t have it in me to start over again. I was in pretty rough shape back then. Anyway, I came home that day to get a sweater, and when I went up to the bedroom, I saw that Evie had cleared her things out of the closet. There was a note taped to the door saying that she couldn’t stand it anymore, and that she was leaving me. I went down to the kitchen and had a drink or two to steady myself, and then I decided to try to talk her out of it as soon as she got off work. It was getting late, and I was afraid that Evie might have already left by the time I got there, but the door to the town office was unlocked. I went inside. She wasn’t at her desk, but the light was on in the basement, so I went to the top of the stairs to see what was happening. She was coming up, carrying her old suitcase. I asked her what she was doing down there. She said she’d hidden her suitcase in the basement because she didn’t want the other ladies to know that she was leaving me. I begged her to give me one last chance, but she said she wouldn’t. She tried to push past me, I grabbed her suitcase, we struggled, and she fell.”
Sherman paused, covering his face with his hands. Anna heard him sob. She waited a long time for him to regain control, the broken man’s breath coming in and out in gasps. Finally, he took a deep breath and laid his hands on top of the bedclothes.
“I ran down to have a look at her, but I knew that she was gone. Her neck . . .” His voice caught, and he hesitated a few more seconds. “I sat there on the steps for a long time. I realized how it would look when the police arrived. My Evie was gone, and there was nothing anyone could do for her. So I took her suitcase and left her lying there. I locked the office door and went home. I hung her things back up in the closet, tore up her goodbye note, and flushed the pieces down the toilet. And then I got well and truly drunk.”
Sherman stopped talking. He stared stonily ahead, looking at something only he could see, giving the impression that he had turned to stone himself. Anna reached for his hand on the blanket; it felt cold and dry.
“I’m so sorry, Sherman. Sorry for both you and Evelyn. You were only trying to help her parents, and it ended up finishing the two of you. I know that your wife’s death has been eating at you all these months, but it seems to me that you’re not the only one who needs forgiveness. I don’t want to offend you ‒ I didn’t know your wife, after all ‒ but she let a whole lot of worthless things get in the way of her love for you. Maybe she should have begged for your forgiveness before it was too late.”
Anna hesitated, waiting for Sherman to say something, but she wasn’t even sure that he had heard her. She rested her hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Sherman. I promise that I’ll never tell anyone what you told me today.” She kissed his cheek, stood up, and walked out of the room with Sherman still locked in his own private hell.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
By the time Anna had driven home, the trick-or-treaters had abandoned the streets, and the neighbourhood looked deserted. She blew out the candle inside the pumpkin on the front porch and went in to hug Wendy, who waited patiently while the tears coursed down her face. When she had finished crying, Anna sniffled and wiped her eyes with one hand.
“Come on, Wendy. I need a walk,” she said, straightening. The dog sprang to her feet and waited for Anna to grab a few things. When Wendy hesitated at the bottom of the drive, wondering which way to go, Anna turned left and heade
d out Wistler Road for the countryside.
It was chilly but dry with a bright moon shining down upon the sheared fields. Anna strode down the road, driving herself with an animal instinct to escape all of the misery she had endured over the past few weeks. When she got too warm, she stuffed her gloves into her pockets and unbuttoned her coat, enjoying the rush of cold air blowing through her clothes.
Eventually she came to the intersection between the township road and the laneway leading to Clive’s farm. She paused in the middle, enjoying the silence and the solitude. Wendy came dashing out of the trees and sat at her feet, waiting for their next move. A car broke into Anna’s reverie, however, its headlights dipping on the pavement as it came toward her, and she reluctantly relinquished the middle of the road to head to the shoulder, Wendy trotting beside her. Instead of driving past, however, the car slowed to a stop and waited, its engine idling. It was only then that Anna realized it was a cruiser. The window rolled down, and Steve looked out.
“Anna, is that you?” he asked. She stumbled to his car and paused beside it. She didn’t want to talk to a single soul that night; not to Steve, nor to anyone else.
“What are you doing way out here? It’s after ten. Something wrong?”
Anna shook her head. “No, everything’s fine. I just needed a walk.”
He shook his own head. “Sometimes I think you don’t have the sense you were born with, girl. Get into the car. I’m driving you and Wendy home.” Anna sighed and crossed to the passenger side while Steve put Wendy in the back. He shifted out of park and turned onto Wistler Road.
Steve didn’t speak and, after a minute, Anna glanced at him. He kept his eyes on the road, waiting for her to talk or not talk, as she chose. Feeling compelled to say something, she said, “How’s it all going to end?”
He looked at her. “What do you mean? The murder?”
“Which one?”
“There’s only one murder ‒ Henry’s. There won’t be any charges brought against Sherman for Cabrero’s death, if that’s what you’re worried about, although there’ll have to be an inquest. We’ll keep looking for Greg Rae, too, but I have a feeling that he had a bolt hole all prepared just in case something like this happened.”
Anna kept her thoughts to herself; actually, it had been Evelyn’s death that had been troubling her. Not that Evelyn’s death counted as a murder, and Sherman didn’t need to be punished for it since he was doing such a good a job of punishing himself. Besides, she had promised not to share what he had told her with anyone else.
“What about Tiernay? How’s she taking this?” Anna asked.
“She’s pretty upset, that’s for sure. She’s coming to terms with her brother being a criminal, just like her mother was. It seems that forgery ran in the family. Both of them ended up deserting her, too. She hasn’t had an easy life, you know. And on top of that, she’s also discovering that she doesn’t have any supernatural powers. She’s just as weak and human as the rest of us. It’s been quite a blow to her ego, actually.”
“Sure,” Anna said. She didn’t really care.
Steve looked at her for a couple of seconds. “Tiernay could really use a friend.”
Anna snorted, and Steve turned back to the road.
“Is she planning on staying in town?”
“She is, for now. She’s got the business, and she’d like to give it a chance. I think she might make something of it, if people will forgive her for having a brother who was a counterfeiter. It’s been pretty quiet at the store these past few days.”
Anna nodded mechanically. She hadn’t thought of that. Of course, the town was closing ranks against Tiernay, protecting one of their own against someone whose brother had left Anna to die in the cemetery.
Steve pulled the cruiser into her driveway and drove up to the garage. Letting the engine idle, he waited for her to say something.
Anna glanced at him. Steve had been a good friend, even risking his career by giving her confidential police information during her ex-husband’s murder investigation. If he wanted her to be a friend to Tiernay, well, maybe it was payback time. Besides, Tiernay could have run away with Greg after they had left her in the cemetery, but she had stayed behind and called Steve for help. Maybe Tiernay had a good side underneath that lousy attitude of hers.
Out loud, Anna said, “My back’s been bothering me lately. Does Tiernay give a good massage?”
“I’ll say,” Steve blurted. Anna turned to look at him, and they both burst out laughing until the tears ran down their faces.
“I sure can pick them, can’t I?” Steve said, wiping his eyes and smiling at her.
Anna leaned over to ruffle his hair. “You sure can.” She smiled at him fondly before reaching for the door handle and climbing out. Over her shoulder, she said, “You want to let Wendy out of the back seat?”
When Steve released her, the dog dashed to the house and sat down on the front mat, waiting for Anna. Anna motioned for Steve to roll down his window, and crouched beside the car as he stuck his head out.
“People here were good to me when I was new, even though I was so stupid I didn’t realize my own husband was cheating on me. I’m sure May could use a massage. Stumping around town with that cast of hers has played hell on her alignment. And Mary and Frank are on their feet all day. So’s Clive, for that matter. I wonder how long it’s been since any woman laid hands on that man. Other than his mother, that is.” She smiled and straightened, rubbing her lower back as it complained. Come to think of it, she really could use a massage.
“I’ll spread the word, Steve.” She tapped the side of the car. “Night.”
“Night, Anna. And thanks.”
She nodded and climbed the few steps to the porch. Taking a moment to scratch Wendy’s shoulder, she inserted the key into the lock and opened the door. Steve tapped softly on his horn as he backed down the driveway. Waving without turning, Anna went inside and shut the door.
Epilogue
The sunlight was slanting across the cemetery lawn on the afternoon of Friday, November 2nd, the feast of All Souls’ Day in the Catholic Church. Quite a few seniors had been by earlier to lay flowers on their loved ones’ graves, but the burst of activity had died down, and the cemetery was deserted when the silence was broken by the roar of a lawn mower engine.
Sherman steered the mower carefully between the plots as May sat on the seat in front of him. She had propped her cast on the hood and cradled a bouquet of peach sweetheart roses in her arms. Sherman manoeuvered past the evergreens trees, around the bench, and parked beside Evie’s grave. He switched off the engine, and they paused, drinking in the blessed silence.
May stirred first. “Take these, will you?” she asked, handing him the flowers. She swung her leg gingerly over the engine and wiggled off the seat with Sherman’s free hand around her waist to steady her. Straightening, she balanced against the machine. Sherman climbed off the mower and removed his baseball cap, revealing a new haircut. The hair was combed straight back from his face, revealing his strong, broad forehead.
May looked around. “It’s a pretty spot. I’ve never been here during the day before.”
Sherman nodded. “Evie would have liked it. It’s private, and there’s some beautiful statuary in this part of the cemetery.” He gazed at her tombstone. “I come every year with these flowers for her.” His eyes shone with unshed tears.
“Evelyn knows, and she appreciates it,” May said, resting her hand on his shoulder. His body felt tense to her touch.
“Do you think so?”
“Are you kidding? Look at the other graves around here,” she said, waving her arm. “Potted plants and cut carnations. A couple of early Christmas wreaths. No one else has anything half as beautiful as her roses. She’s lording it over Mrs. Weber over there, even if her husband’s got the tractor dealership.”
Sherman shook his head. “There was more to Evie than that. She couldn’t help liking nice things. She had had a pretty rough childhood.”
May looked remorseful. “I know. I wish that I had gotten along with her, Sherman. We were two stiff-backed, proud women arguing about stuff that didn’t matter. I didn’t even know her, really.”
Sherman squeezed her hand and released it, leaving her beside the mower. He walked to his wife’s headstone and bent to lay the flowers on the banked earth before it. Pausing to whisper a prayer, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were dry. He brushed two fingers across his lips and rested them on her stone.
“I forgive you, Evie,” he murmured.
Sighing, he made his way back to May, who smiled as he took her hand.
“Come on. Let’s go lay the teriyaki jerky on Earl’s grave,” he said with an answering smile.
The End
Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed Town Haunts, won’t you please take a moment to help other readers discover it by leaving a review with your favourite retailer? Thank you!
Cathy Spencer
Don’t miss the third book in the Anna Nolan Mystery Series, Tidings of Murder and Woe,
coming out in December 2014!
About the Author
Always a voracious reader, Cathy Spencer cut her teeth on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, Jane Austen, and Charlotte Brontë. She is married to a singer/actor/university teacher. He didn’t actually say “Marry me and see Canada” when he proposed, but that’s practically what happened. They have lived on the west coast in Vancouver, on the east coast in St. John’s, in Calgary, and are currently living in Ontario.
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