Town Haunts (26 page)

“That’s
better,” he said with a nasty smile. “Time to get up.” Seizing her
by the shoulders, he dragged her to her feet. Anna gasped as he
wrenched her shoulder, and she staggered forward a step, trying not
to fall. Cabrero grabbed her elbow and spun her around.

“This way,” he
said, shoving her in a different direction. Anna raised her head
and realized that she was still at Evelyn’s grave; it was Evelyn’s
stone that she had been leaning against. How long had she been
unconscious?

“Come on,” he
said, taking her arm. He wore Greg’s satchel slung over his chest
and carried the lantern in his other hand. Anna’s eyes were still
watering from the slap, and she couldn’t see very well.

“Wh-where are
we going?” she asked, but Cabrero didn’t respond. He even hummed as
he pulled her along, his fingers squeezing her arm. She had a wild
hope that Cabrero wasn’t going to kill her after all. If he were,
why hadn’t he shot her while she lay unconscious, and abandoned her
body on Evelyn’s grave? Was he taking her hostage?

They were
nearing the back of the cemetery; Anna could see the white stone
wall through the trees. She had never been this far back before. As
they drew closer, she saw a grey-stoned mausoleum, looking forlorn
and deserted. It was square, about eight feet wide, with two
columns holding up a triangular roof. She could make out a name
carved on the lintel: “Beringer.” An iron gate barred the door.

As they drew
near, Anna was seized with dread and tugged backward, trying to
wrench herself from Cabrero’s grip. He shoved her forward the last
few yards, however, and pushed her hard against the wall beside the
door.

Tears welled up
in her eyes and streaked down her cheeks. Cabrero pulled metal
tools from his pocket and fell to work on the lock.

Anna turned her
head to look at him. “What are you going to do to me?” she
murmured.

“Huh?” he said,
glancing at her in a distracted way.

Anna tried
again. “Are you going to shut me in there alive?” she asked, her
eyes glittering with fear.

He stared at
her for a second before returning to the lock. “What do you take me
for, some kind of monster?” he muttered. “I’m going to kill you
first and hide your body inside.”

Anna’s legs
gave way, and she slumped to the ground. “Why didn’t you kill me
before when I couldn’t feel it?” she asked, all hope gone.

“What, and
carry you all the way here? Do you have any idea how heavy a dead
body is?” The lock on the gate clicked open, and he smiled with
satisfaction. Dragging the rusty gate open, he pushed the door
inward with a resounding crack. Cabrero thrust the lantern inside
to have a look around.

This was her
last chance. A burst of adrenalin coursed through Anna’s body as
she clambered to her feet.

“Plenty of
room,” her captor said, turning to look at her just as she darted
away. “Hey!” he shouted, putting down the lantern and racing after
her.

He caught up
with her in seconds, grabbing her hair from behind. Anna screamed
in pain and tried to kick him. Cabrero lugged her off her feet and
carried her back under one arm, writhing and kicking, to the
mausoleum. He slammed her up against the wall again, trapping her
body beneath his.

“I don’t like
to shoot people,” he said, reaching into his pocket as she
squirmed. “It’s messy, and it leaves too much evidence for the
forensics police. This is much neater.”

He pulled a
length of wire from his pocket and, kneeing Anna in the back,
wrapped it around her throat. Anna gasped as she felt it tighten.
She tried to head-butt Cabrero, who jerked backward, tripped, and
fell. Anna jumped sideways out of his reach. As Cabrero scrambled
to his feet, swearing, Sherman Mason charged out of the darkness.
Anna screamed, Cabrero turned, and Sherman bashed him in the head
with a shovel. It made a sickening clang. As Anna watched, Cabrero
staggered backward and collapsed onto the ground.

There was a
moment of silence as Anna became aware of the howling wind. She
stared at Cabrero, lying motionless on the ground with his eyes
closed, and then at Sherman. He was gasping for breath, his face
grey and clammy with sweat.

“Sherman, thank
God,” she said, but the caretaker groaned, clutched his chest, and
tumbled to the ground.

“Sherman!” Anna
shouted, dropping to her knees beside him. He was grimacing with
pain and his eyes were screwed shut. “Sherman, no!” With her hands
tied behind her back, Anna was helpless. She peered around
frantically.

“Help!” she
screamed. “Can anybody hear me? Help!” But when she looked at
Sherman again, he was staring up at her, his eyes glazed with
pain.

“Sherman, I’m
so sorry,” she said. “Can you untie me? Do you have any medication
with you?”

“No,” he said
with a gasp. “It’s at home beside my bed.”

Overcome with
shock and frustration, Anna started to cry, slumping into a sitting
position on the ground beside him.

“Don’t, Anna.”
His hand fluttered upward and rested on her knee. “I want to die.
Maybe Evie will forgive me now.”

“Forgive you?”
Anna sobbed. “Wh-what for? You’re a hero. You saved my life.”

“No, I’m not,”
he said, gazing at her. “I’m a murderer. I killed my Evie.”
Incredulous, she stopped crying to stare down into his face.

Anna was still
trying to absorb Sherman’s words when she heard someone shouting
her name.

“I’m over
here!” she screamed, struggling to her knees. Flashes of light came
zigzagging toward her through the darkness. She staggered to her
feet. “Over here! Hurry!” she screamed, jumping up and down. The
light came closer until it blinded her, and she had to close her
eyes.

“Anna!” Steve
shouted, grabbing her waist and hoisting her off her feet. “You’re
all right,” he said in a hoarse voice, putting her down again and
hugging her tightly.

More lights
converged, and Anna saw John Fox Child and two other men running
toward them. Their guns were drawn, and they were wearing
protective vests.

“I-I’m okay,”
she stuttered as Steve cut the wire from her wrists. “Help
Sherman.”

“Sherman?”

She turned
Steve around and pointed to the caretaker on the grass. Steve knelt
beside him and began checking his vital signs.

“Anna!” John
shouted, blinding her again with his light. She averted her eyes,
shaking with cold and shock, and felt his arms around her
shoulders. “Over there,” he said with a nod, leading her out of the
way while the other men stalked forward, their guns trained on
Cabrero’s inert form. Anna heard Steve radio that it was all right
to send in the paramedics.

“What happened
to you?” John asked, lifting her chin to examine the swelling on
her face. He inhaled sharply. “What’s this?” His fingers brushed
the ugly red line on her throat.

“Cabrero ‒
Greg’s partner ‒ tried to strangle me. He’s the one on the ground
over there,” she said through chattering teeth.

“Emmanuel
Cabrero. We know him. He was the one Henry was staying with in
Calgary, the friend who bailed him out of jail.” John drew her back
into his arms, and she collapsed against him, his arms feeling so
warm and safe.

“How did you
find me?” she mumbled.

“Tiernay Rae
called us.”

“Tiernay called
you?” Anna asked, her head jolting up in surprise.

“Yes. She told
us Cabrero had you captive in the old part of the cemetery. It just
took us a while to find you.”

Anna shook her
head. “I can’t believe that Tiernay did that for me. What about
Greg?”

“He’s gone.
Don’t worry, we’re looking for him.” John turned to speak to his
men. “How’s Cabrero?” he asked.

“Not good,” one
of the constables answered. “I haven’t got much of a pulse.”

“Sherman
stopped him. With a shovel,” Anna said. John stared at her for a
moment before turning to Steve. “How’s Sherman doing?” he
asked.

The young man
looked up. “He’s going to need a stretcher.” Anna started to cry
again, and John rubbed her back.

“I’d be dead if
it weren’t for Sherman,” she moaned.

A team of
paramedics converged on the scene and went to work on the two men
lying on the ground. They were quick and efficient; one of the
teams pushed Sherman out on a gurney a few minutes later. Anna saw
him go past with an oxygen mask clamped over his grey face. When
the gurney carrying Cabrero left a short time later, however, there
was a blanket drawn over his head. Anna stared after him, rubbing
her sore shoulder.

John returned
to drape a blanket around her. “You look as if you’re ready to
collapse. I’m going to have Steve take you over to one of the
ambulances to check you out. He’ll ask you a few questions, and
then he’ll drive you home, unless you want to stay at a neighbour’s
house?”

Anna nodded
wearily. “I’ll think about it. Thanks, John. I really owe you.”

He shook his
head. “I hate to say it, but maybe you’ll listen to me next time I
tell you to butt out of an investigation.” She stared at him
wordlessly, her face dirty and bruised, the angry red mark circling
her throat. Steve joined them and glanced from John to Anna.

“Ah, take her
to the ambulance,” John said, dismissing her with a wave.

“Come on,
Anna,” Steve said, putting an arm around her shoulders and leading
her away.

It was late Sunday
afternoon. Anna had just arrived at Erna’s house and was sitting
cross-legged on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in her hands.
Erna sat beside her with one of May’s homemade afghans draped over
her shoulders and a cup of tea, while May sipped her glass of red
wine from the recliner. A fire burned brightly in the hearth, and
the house smelled enticingly of beef roasting in the oven. Anna
still felt limp from her near-death experience and her muscles
ached, but she felt surprisingly well, otherwise.

Erna tsked as
she examined Anna’s face and throat. “That animal. Look what he did
to her, May.”

“If he weren’t
already dead, I’d take my crutch to him,” May said, lifting it up
from beside her chair. She let it drop back to the floor and took
another swallow of wine.

“You look
tired, May. How’s Sherman doing?” Anna asked.

“Not bad. They
only let me see him for five minutes today. He was kind of dopey
from the pain killers, but they said the heart attack was mild. He
should be out of the hospital in a few days if he behaves himself.
No more running around the cemetery at night for him.”

“Thank God he
did,” Erna said. She turned to Anna. “So, you got the rest of the
story today from Steve?”

“Yes, when I
went to the station to make my statement. I saw Tiernay from a
distance. She had been brought in for questioning and was just
leaving. She looked like the stuffing had been knocked out of her.
Actually, I felt sorry for her.”

“Never mind
her, start at the beginning,” May said. “Greg was a counterfeiter .
. .”

“Yes. When he
left the cemetery last night with Tiernay, he went straight to the
basement of their house. He kept his counterfeiting supplies there,
hidden in his art studio. He grabbed them and left ‒ didn’t take
anything else. He tried to talk Tiernay into leaving with him, but
she refused to go. Instead, she called Steve as soon as Greg was
gone.”

“What was he
counterfeiting?” Erna asked.

“Passports,
driver’s licenses, credit cards, and ten-dollar bills. He told
Tiernay that he’d been doing it for eight years, using his graphic
design business as a front. He’d had some trouble with a crime gang
hassling him when they were living in Vancouver, though, so when he
and his sister left, he was finished with big cities. Tiernay
wanted to try Alberta, and as it turned out, a contact of Greg’s
was just finishing his sentence in the same prison as Henry. The
contact told Greg that Henry had a storefront for sale in Crane,
and Greg thought it was a great opportunity to start over again.
That’s how he and Tiernay ended up here.”

“Did he already
know this Emmanuel Cabrero before they came?” Erna asked.

“No. His
contact made the introduction. The police already knew about
Cabrero ‒ he’d had a record. But Greg didn’t have one, and that’s
why Steve couldn’t find anything on him. Greg’s been lucky, up
until now.”

“So, why were
he and Cabrero meeting in the cemetery?” May asked.

“Steve said
that it was an ideal location. Cabrero could use the back roads to
get into the rear entrance of the cemetery and avoid being seen in
town altogether. He and Greg met in the old part of the cemetery
where it was nice and private, and no one would see their
lights.”

“Except
Sherman,” May said.

“Yes.” Anna
gave her friend a sympathetic look. “The only drawback to the
cemetery location was Sherman. Obviously, Greg would have asked
Henry about the caretaker living next door to the cemetery, and
Henry would have told him all about Sherman and Evelyn. Sherman
must have seen Greg and Cabrero’s lights when they were meeting on
Thanksgiving night, but they must have heard him coming. Tiernay
and I opened the side gate last night, and it made a horrible
squeak. Greg told his sister that he pretended to be Evelyn to
scare Sherman off, and that’s how all this business started with
Evelyn’s ghost coming back. Greg used the séance to frighten
Sherman out of his house, and kept up the pressure with the ghost
sightings around town.”

“That was Greg
who frightened me on my apartment stairs?” May asked.

“Yes, but he
meant to scare Sherman, not you.”

May’s face
darkened, and Anna couldn’t tell if she was angrier about Greg
wanting to frighten Sherman, or about the attack on herself.