Town Haunts (21 page)

“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, creak .
. . creak . . .

There was a
sign hanging from its neck. One word was written in bold, black,
capital letters on crude cardboard.

“MURDERER.”

Anna
screamed.

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?”