Town Haunts (24 page)

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Authors: Cathy Spencer

Tags: #dog mystery, #cozy mystery series woman sleuth, #humour banter romance, #canadian small town, #paranormal ghost witch mystery

BOOK: Town Haunts
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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 threw 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 cookbooks, 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.”

“You were
possessed?” Anna persisted.

“For sure,” the
young woman said, her bobbed hair swinging as she nodded her
head.

“Then what are
we doing here?” Anna asked, stepping into the middle of the room.
“So what if Greg rigged the music? It was just to make the séance
more credible for the rest of us.” She noted the glum expression on
Tiernay’s face. “Except that Greg didn’t tell you about the music,”
she added, pointing at the box in the young woman’s hand.

“Yeah.”

“And he faked
the music again at the cemetery.” The young woman nodded. Anna
paused, wondering how far to push Tiernay. “Did it ever occur to
you maybe he’s faked other things, too? That maybe Greg doesn’t
believe that you’re the real deal?”

Tiernay’s head
shot up and her eyes flared with anger. “You’re wrong. He does
believe in me. He’s always been my biggest supporter.” She stalked
toward Anna, and Anna remembered that she was alone in the house
with this mercurial-tempered woman, and that no one knew where she
was.

“Okay, calm
down,” she said, taking a step back toward the stairs. “You came to
me for help, remember?”

“Fine, but
don’t get insulting,” Tiernay muttered.

“Look, it’s
really stuffy in here, and I’m thirsty. Let’s go down to the
kitchen and get a glass of water,” Anna said, edging around Tiernay
and hurrying toward the stairs. “Don’t forget to turn off the
light.”

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