Town Haunts (6 page)

May flicked off
the harsh ceiling light and slid a pumpkin-shaped ceramic plate
heaped with chocolate finger cookies onto the table with the mugs
of tea. The flames from the fire cast dancing shadows over the
women’s faces as they leaned in to talk.

“Now, tell me
about the Masons,” Anna said. “In the four years I’ve lived here in
Crane, I’ve only known Sherman as the cemetery custodian, and I
never actually spoke to Evelyn. I had no idea that he had been a
bank manager once upon a time.”

“You’re the
historian, doll,” May said to Erna. “Tell Anna about Sherman and
Evelyn.”

“Well, let me
see,” Erna said, settling more comfortably onto her vinyl-covered
chair. “Sherman came to manage the bank thirteen years ago. I
remember that he’d had a good position at a bank in Calgary before
that, but this meant a promotion for him. My, he was such a
good-looking man back then. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a big head
of blond hair. The way he wore it combed back from his face always
reminded me of a lion’s mane. He had an air of authority about him,
too. Not loud or showy, but just there below the surface. He was
well-respected in the community, wasn’t he, May?”

“Oh, yeah.
Everybody listened to him,” May said with a nod.

“He brought
Evelyn and their three young sons with him. He could have commuted
from Calgary, but he wanted to be part of the community here.
Sherman had a beautiful two-storey home built for his family on
Robin Street. I’m sure you’ve seen the house, Anna – the one with
the stonework at the end of the cul-de-sac?”

“Uh huh, I know
the one you mean. It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, and
Evelyn loved that house. Her people have a farm somewhere south of
here, but they’ve never been prosperous. Evelyn was the first of
her family to attend university, as a matter of fact. She and
Sherman met while she was going to school in Calgary. She was a few
years younger than he, so Sherman already had his business degree
and a good job at a bank by the time they met. Evelyn was very
proud of him in the early days.”

“She was just
plain proud about everything,” May said, breaking into Erna’s
reminiscences. “She used to lord it over the rest of us in the
Catholic Women’s League. Remember? Chairwoman of the social
committee. Never thought anyone else’s taste was as good as hers.
Used to look down her nose at my store, too. Not a big enough
selection for her, and our produce wasn’t fresh enough, either. She
bought her groceries in Calgary.”

“I remember,”
Erna said, patting her friend’s hand. “She was a proud woman.
Social status meant everything to her. Poor Evelyn. It just about
killed her when Sherman was fired.”

“What
happened?” Anna asked, looking from one friend to the other.

The two women
exchanged a glance before Erna continued. “Well, about seven years
ago, there was a big investigation at the bank. It was very
hush-hush. No charges were laid, but Sherman was fired. The gossip
was that he had been skimming money. He started having a problem
with alcohol after that, and they had to sell their lovely house.
The scandal was hard on the boys, too. Their schoolmates teased
them, and the eldest son got into fights.” Erna sighed. “I felt
very sorry for that family.”

“Then what
happened?” Anna asked.

“Well, Sherman
tried to run his own investment business for a time. He gave me
some very sound advice, but the business failed after just two
years. People had a hard time trusting him, I suppose. He had some
health problems after that, and Father Winfield gave Sherman the
caretaker’s job at the cemetery and rented them the house next
door. Evelyn had to take a job with the town office to help out.
That’s when she started being so reclusive.”

“Yeah, she
dropped out of the Catholic Women’s League and everything. Used to
walk around town avoiding people. Snubbed me cold at the Post
Office one day. Not that I ever did anything to her,” May said.

“She was
probably afraid that people were glad she’d fallen on hard times,”
Erna said.

May shrugged.
“If they were, it was her own darn fault. If she hadn’t been so
patronizing when she’d had money, people might have been more
sympathetic when she lost it. I don’t think she had a friend in the
world at the end.”

“I think you’re
right. It was all very sad. Anyway, Evelyn insisted that her sons
go to university no matter how hard things got, and between the
boys’ educational expenses and Sherman’s drinking, they spent
everything they’d had. The youngest boy finished his bachelor’s
degree just before Evelyn died last winter.”

“I remember
thinking that her death sounded kind of fishy,” Anna remarked.

“Yes, and
tragic,” Erna said. “What she was doing in the town office alone
after hours? No one ever knew. And why was she in the basement? The
only thing down there was the archives. Anyway, they didn’t find
her body until the next morning. She had been gone quite a while by
then, her neck broken from the fall down the stairs. The mayor had
to tell Sherman. If Sherman hadn’t been under the weather the night
before, he might have noticed that Evelyn was missing, and they
could have found her sooner. Not that it would have made any
difference, but she wouldn’t have been alone all night.” Erna
paused for a moment to reflect.

“I remember
that the town took up a collection to help pay for her funeral
expenses,” Anna said. “Poor Sherman, he must have been devastated.
Didn’t he go missing about that time, too?”

“Yes, although
he was back in time for the funeral,” Erna replied. “It broke my
heart to see him standing in the front pew with his sons, wearing
an old suit from his banking days. The jacket just hung on him. I
think it took everything he had to get through the service that
day.”

“His boys don’t
come around to see him anymore, that’s for sure,” May said. “The
only person he ever talks to is Father Winfield. He comes around
the store once a week to pick up food, though. Canned stew, soup,
eggs, bread – that’s all he ever buys. I told him once that I
didn’t see how a man could live on that, but he just shrugged. I
hear he’s in the liquor store at least once a week. That’s where
his money goes, you can bet. And that beautiful head of hair. All
grey, and I’m sure he cuts it himself with the kitchen scissors.
It’s a crying shame.”

The women
sipped from their mugs in silence.

“Poor man,”
Anna mused. “And now he thinks his dead wife is calling to
him.”

“More likely a
delusion brought on by alcohol and remorse,” Erna said. “I wonder
if it’s right to hold this séance, considering his state of mind.
Perhaps Evelyn’s death is becoming a morbid obsession with
him.”

“I never looked
at it that way. We don’t want to push him over the edge,” May said,
her face troubled.

“But if this
séance helps him to feel better, maybe he’ll finally make his peace
with Evelyn’s death. Wait a minute,” Anna said, brightening, “we
could make sure that the séance helps. What if Tiernay fakes a
message from Evelyn? Something about forgiveness and telling
Sherman she still loves him. That would help, wouldn’t it?” She
looked at the other women. “Do you think that we could talk Tiernay
into doing it?”

“What a
wonderful idea,” Erna said. “I’m sure that if I explained it to
her, she would want to help Sherman. I’ll drop by her store
tomorrow to broach the subject. Between the four of us, I’m sure
that we can come up with a convincing plan.”

“Great. If
there’s anything I can do, just let me know,” Anna said.

“I can jostle
the table with my knee, or knock on it, or something,” May
said.

“I’ll suggest
it to Tiernay, and we’ll see what she thinks. Well, this is all
very promising. I’m actually looking forward to the séance now that
I think it might do Sherman some good,” Erna said.

“With or
without Tiernay’s help, we’ll make sure that it does,” Anna
replied.

Anna felt good
as she strode through town on her way to the séance on Monday
night. Not only was the weather milder, but she felt safe walking
alone at night again now that Henry Fellows no longer posed a
threat. She had stopped in at May’s to pick up some milk on the way
home, and had learned that the police had found Henry’s abandoned
car on a side road just two kilometres south of Calgary. He could
easily have walked to the city from there, and the Calgary police
were looking for him. Happily, Henry was no longer Crane’s
problem.

Feeling safe
from human attack didn’t stop Anna from hurrying by the cemetery
once she had passed St. Bernadette’s Catholic Church. There was
something spooky about a graveyard at night that unsettled even the
most rational of people, including herself. As she rushed past the
cemetery gates, Anna spotted the caretaker’s house through the
trees and thought how lonely it looked all by itself. It was quite
on the outskirts of town. Her own cottage was the last house on
Wistler Road before it headed into the countryside, but she liked
her privacy and had Betty and Jeff Hiller living next door, if she
wanted them. Sherman had no one.

Tonight there
were two cars parked out front of the caretaker’s house, one of
them May’s old Buick, and the other a red sports car belonging to
Tiernay. No doubt May had given Erna a lift, even though the older
woman lived just three blocks away from Sherman on the other side
of the church. As fit as Erna was at her age, she was cautious and
didn’t like walking alone after dark.

Anna paused on
the sidewalk to study the house. Two over-grown ash trees blocked
most of the light from the porch lamp, leaving the yard steeped in
gloom. The white stucco gleamed like bone through the branches, and
the roofline drooped over the second storey. Anna shivered,
thinking how creepy the house looked, and hurried up the cracked
cement walkway to the front steps. The porch was small, just big
enough to hold a folding chair and a low plastic table. At least
Sherman kept the porch floor painted and swept. She knocked on the
door with her knuckles and stood on a hunk of worn outdoor carpet,
waiting for someone to let her in.

Sherman opened
the door dressed in a pair of faded jeans with a nubby brown
cardigan over a greyish-white shirt. Anna noticed that his feet
were bare inside a pair of bedroom slippers.

“Come in,” he
said, backing into the foyer and indicating that she should
enter.

“Nice night,”
she said, stepping onto a mat and bending to untie her shoe
laces.

“Keep them on.
It won’t make any difference to the carpet.”

“If you’re
sure?” Anna asked, straightening. She closed the door behind her
and looked past Sherman into the living room. He was right about
the carpet. It was a threadbare grey-blue, its pattern practically
obliterated by years of passing feet. The furnishings ‒ a sagging
velvet couch, a spindly-legged wooden coffee table, a rocking
chair, and an ancient television on a metal stand ‒ looked like
cast-offs from a church garage sale. The room was devoid of any
knickknacks or personal decoration except for a framed family
portrait hanging over the couch. Anna ventured into the room to
study it by the single lamp. In the picture, a younger, handsome
Sherman stood behind a seated blond woman with three boys grouped
around her. Sherman was wearing a tailored navy suit with a white
shirt and red-and-blue-striped tie. His thick, golden hair was
combed straight back from his forehead, just as Erna had described
it.

“Your family?”
Anna asked, gesturing at the picture.

“Yes,” Sherman
said, pausing to look. “That’s Robert, Michael, and Douglas, my
sons. And Evie,” he said, pointing to the woman.

Anna
scrutinized Evelyn. She looked to be in her early thirties, a
pretty woman with ash blond hair swept back into a chignon, her
cheeks rosy and her blue eyes confident. A peach rose corsage was
pinned to the chest of her blue-and-white printed dress.

“She was
lovely,” Anna remarked.

“Yes, she was,”
Sherman said, tearing his gaze away from the portrait to look at
Anna. “The others are waiting in the dining room. It’s this
way.”

He led her down
a gloomy panelled hallway into the dining room. Tiernay, May, and
Erna were already there, seated at a rectangular table atop a plain
wooden floor. The tabletop was bare except for a box of matches
beside a brass candelabra holding four unlit white tapers. The
women looked up as Anna and Sherman entered.

“Welcome,
Anna,” Tiernay said in a ponderous voice. She wore a floor-length,
skin-tight, black velvet dress with plenty of décolletage and long,
fitted sleeves. Her only ornament was a coiled silver snake pendant
with amber eyes that nestled on a silver chain in her cleavage. Her
light blue eyes were rimmed with kohl, and her lips and fingernails
were tinted to match her incandescent red hair. Anna smothered a
smile; Tiernay looked as though she were auditioning for the role
of “creature of the night” in that get-up.

“Sherman,
please take your seat at the other end of the table,” the young
woman said. “Anna, sit here next to the door.”

“Can I get you
a cup of coffee first, Anna?” Sherman asked, hesitating. “It’s only
instant, I’m afraid.”

“Thanks, but
I’m not a coffee drinker,” Anna said. She slid into her assigned
seat and waved at Erna and May across the table while Sherman sat
down.

“Greg was here
earlier to help with my preparations,” Tiernay said. Anna looked
around the almost vacant room, wondering what preparation she
meant. The only other piece of furniture was a small black cabinet
situated to the left of the door. It held four multi-coloured
candles inserted into crystal candlesticks.

“We’ve
sprinkled St. John’s Wort around the room and burnt yarrow to
protect against psychic attack. I’m going to cast a circle of
protection. I want you all to imagine it encircling the room and
shielding us against evil.” Tiernay picked up the box of matches
from the tabletop and walked to the cabinet. Striking a match, she
lit the green candle first.