Town Haunts (28 page)

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.

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 headed 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.

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.

Town
Haunts
is the second in the Anna Nolan series, a cozy mystery
with an amateur sleuth set in the Rocky Mountain Foothills of
Alberta. The first novel,
Framed for Murder
, won the 2014
Bony Blithe Mystery Award
;
the third novel,
Tidings of
Murder and Woe
, will be released in time for Christmas 2014.
Cathy has also written a regency romance entitled
The Affairs of
Harriet Walters, Spinster
, as well as two short story
collections,
Tall Tales Twin-Pack, Mysteries
and
Tall
Tales Twin-Pack, Science Fiction and Fantasy
.
The Dating
Do-Over
, a contemporary romance about an elementary school
teacher with abominable taste in men, will be released on September
18, 2014.

Connect with Cathy
Spencer

Read more about Cathy
at her
Smashwords Author’s Page

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her blog at
http://cmspencer.blogspot.com

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