Town Haunts

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Town Haunts Page 7

by Cathy Spencer


  May snorted. “Are you kidding? In a town this size? We don’t have the money to buy security cameras. Besides, why would the town office need them?”

  “What does Sherman think, May?” Anna asked, trying to change the subject again.

  “He didn’t want to talk about it last night or this morning, but you saw how shook up he was.” May glared at Tiernay. “Why’d you have to go and say all that crapola? I thought you were going to tell Sherman that Evelyn was at peace and everything was hunky-dory.”

  “I didn’t say anything. Everything you heard came directly from Evelyn. I was only her mouthpiece,” Tiernay snapped.

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” May looked like she was about to launch into a tirade when Erna laid a firm hand upon her arm.

  “Let’s not go into that again, dear. It’s so unproductive.” May clamped her mouth shut and folded her arms over her chest, looking like steam was going to pour out of her ears. Erna looked at Tiernay.

  “Let’s assume that you’re right. Let’s say that Evelyn was murdered, and that her spirit can’t rest until it’s avenged. How would you suggest that we proceed?”

  “We have to hold another séance,” the young woman said with a determined expression. “But not inside her house – she’s too strong for us there. We might want to try the cemetery this time.”

  “You’ve got to be joking,” May said, her voice rising.

  “We should talk to Sherman first,” Anna said quickly. “If we hold another séance, he’ll want to be there. But before we talk to him about that, let’s ask him if he knows anything useful about the circumstances surrounding Evelyn’s death.”

  “Like what?” May asked.

  “Like, was she upset before she died? Was something bothering her? I don’t know – maybe she was taking some kind of medication that made her feel dizzy and lose her balance on the stairs.”

  “What does that matter, if she was murdered?” Tiernay asked.

  “I just want to look at all the possibilities,” Anna said, holding up her hands in a “let’s all cool down” gesture as May took a step closer to Tiernay.

  “Look, we can’t make him go through all that again,” May said. “He must have covered that with the police back when it happened.” She jerked her head at Tiernay. “Why doesn’t she just admit that she made a mistake and tell Sherman that Evelyn wasn’t murdered after all?”

  “I’ll do no such thing,” Tiernay said with a sniff. “That was a legitimate possession, and I’m not going to sully my reputation by saying that I made the whole thing up. It’s so hard to get people to believe as it is.”

  “All you care about is your business, but nobody gives a rat’s ass about it. You scared Sherman, and now you have to fix him.” May’s chin jutted out as she glared at Tiernay.

  “Ladies, please calm down,” Erna said. “It does no good to inflame the situation. I must say that I agree with Anna, though. Sherman has had several months to think about Evelyn’s death. Maybe he can shine some light on the events leading up to it. I think it’s worth a try, don’t you?” Erna looked at May with a pleading expression on her face.

  “Is he upstairs?” Anna asked.

  “Maybe,” May replied, relenting a little. “It’s supper time. Let’s go find out.”

  May avoided Tiernay as she marched over to the door to flip the store’s sign to “Closed.” The four women flocked upstairs to find Sherman watching the news and drinking a can of beer in May’s recliner. He sat up with a thump, his eyes darting from one face to another.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Nothing, Sherman,” May said in a soothing voice. “We just want to talk to you about Evelyn.”

  “Oh,” he said, slumping back into the chair and looking wary. “Why?”

  Erna sat down on the couch next to his chair. “We’re looking for a little more information about how Evelyn was feeling before the accident.”

  “Accident?” he said with a bitter smile. “Are we back to calling her death an accident again?” No one said anything, and Sherman sighed. “She wasn’t very happy, if you want to know the truth.” He clicked the remote to turn off the television.

  “Why wasn’t she happy?” Erna asked.

  “She was angry with me. She wanted to move away from Crane and start fresh somewhere else, but I was against it.”

  “How come? Wouldn’t that have made life easier for you?” May asked, pulling over one of the dinette chairs to sit down beside him. Anna and Tiernay took their places on the couch beside Erna, listening eagerly.

  “No. We both had jobs in Crane, and Father Winfield was renting the house to us cheap. Evie wanted to go back to Calgary, but who would have hired me there?” He averted his eyes, the colour in his face deepening.

  “Was she on any kind of medication before her death?” Anna asked.

  “Medication?” Sherman looked up in surprise. “Well, she had to take a tranquillizer to help her sleep. They made her feel groggy in the morning at first, until the doctor cut back on the dosage. But that was all worked out weeks before she died.”

  “Why couldn’t she sleep?” Anna asked. “Was she stressed about work?”

  “Sometimes, but there were things she liked about it, too. She was proud of how quickly she picked up the computer system, for instance, and she was praised for re-organizing the filing system. But she didn’t like having to talk to people about their taxes or the town by-laws. They would get upset with her, and she found that hard. She used to talk to me about it at night. She said that it wasn’t her fault – that she didn’t make up the rules.”

  “Was anyone in particular upset with her?” Erna asked.

  “The contractor putting up the new houses in the subdivision last winter was a problem. He’d be in two or three times a week about something or other, and he always wanted answers right away. And there was Henry Fellows. He had that idea about a drive-through, but there was some problem with the zoning laws not allowing it. He got angry with Evie one day. Said that since he was a member of the town council, he deserved special consideration, and he wasn’t going to stop until he got it. Evie came home really upset that night. She said that Henry had shouted at her and treated her like dirt, like she was a nobody. She was crying.”

  Sherman stopped, his emotions overcoming him. May leaned over to pat his arm, and Erna said, “Poor Evelyn. We’re sorry to drag up such unhappy memories.”

  He nodded. “I wish I could have saved her from that kind of unpleasantness. Evie wasn’t used to dealing with unhappy people. But we couldn’t get by without her pay cheque.” He stared at the floor again. “It wasn’t the life I promised her when we got married. I’m sure that she was disappointed with me.” He clambered to his feet. “Excuse me ladies. I need some fresh air.” Sidestepping the couch, he rushed from the room.

  “Sherman, your jacket,” May called after him, snatching up his coat from the back of a kitchen chair and hurrying to the door with it. They heard his feet pounding down the stairs, however, and May returned still holding the jacket.

  “He’ll miss it. It’s cold outside,” she said, slipping it back over the chair. She sighed. “I wish we hadn’t done that. He’s upset enough as it is. It’s not fair, kicking a man when he’s down.”

  “I’m sorry, May,” Erna said. “We don’t seem to have learned anything useful, have we? Evelyn was an unhappy woman, but she didn’t seem frightened or worried before she died.”

  Tiernay said, “All the more reason to hold another séance.”

  “Not that again,” May groaned.

  “Look, Evelyn is very unhappy. If we don’t do something about it soon, things could get pretty ugly around here.”

  “How so?” Anna asked.

  “I can’t say for sure,” the young woman said, “but it stands to reason. A spirit strong enough to get past my defences wants revenge on her murderer. If we don’t find some way of appeasing her, Evelyn may decide to take matters into her own hands. Believe me, we don’
t want that kind of trouble. And she’ll remember us. We were the ones at the séance. She’ll focus all her unhappiness on us.”

  May said, “You are seriously loony tunes, Tiernay. You’ve got to stop all this garbage about séances and leave Sherman alone. I, for one, won’t have anything more to do with it.” She turned to Erna and Anna, her eyes searching their faces. “What about you two?”

  Anna looked at Tiernay. “I think we have to do what’s best for Sherman. We’ve dredged up a lot of unhappy memories and upset him with all this talk of Evelyn being murdered. Why don’t we just let things settle down for a while?”

  “I didn’t think you were a true believer,” Tiernay huffed, turning her back on Anna to regard Erna. “What do you say, Miss Dombrosky?”

  “I’m afraid that I agree with Anna. I’m more concerned about the needs of the living than of the dead.” May smiled triumphantly, sure of her friends’ support. Tiernay shook her head and got up.

  “Well, I must say that I’m disappointed in you ladies. I thought that you wanted to help Sherman and Evelyn, but you’re afraid to deal with the truth. I’ve got an appointment in five minutes, so I’m leaving. You know where to find me when things start to go wrong. And they will go wrong, I promise you that.” She strode out of the room with her head held high, and they heard her clatter down the outside stairs.

  “Witch,” May muttered.

  “Now what?” Anna asked.

  “I think that we should wait and see what happens next,” Erna said. “We don’t know if Tiernay truly believes in what she says, or if she and her brother are up to some kind of chicanery. Meanwhile, I will apprise Steve of what’s happened so that he can keep an eye on Sherman and the Raes’ store. We must be prepared for trouble.”

  “I agree,” May said, “but if Tiernay and her brother are up to something, I’ll be the first to know it. Their store is right across the street, after all, and I’ve got binoculars.”

  “Just be careful,” Erna said. “If you see something that worries you, don’t try to handle it alone.”

  “You bet. I’ll be on the phone to you and Anna right away, first trouble I see.” But looking at the stubborn expression on her face, Anna wasn’t sure she believed May.

  Chapter Ten

  It was Thursday night, two days after the discussion with Tiernay and just past the supper hour. Anyone happening to look in the window of May’s Groceries and More would have seen May and Gerry shouting at each other beside the produce section. Gerry, tall and sturdy with a balding, egg-shaped head and a full beard, was waving an apple at his mother. May was standing next to a trolley heaped with grapes, clutching a scissors in one hand and a bunch of grapes in the other.

  “Look, Ma, I’m not making it up,” Gerry was saying. “They were gossiping about you at the liquor store when I went in this afternoon. They stopped as soon as they saw me standing behind them, but I’d heard enough by then to realize what they were saying.”

  “Come on, Gerry. Cindy is an idiot. She should know better than to gossip with the customers. The liquor store should fire her, no matter how short-staffed they are.”

  Gerry tossed the apple onto the pile in exasperation, and had to catch a couple before they rolled off. “But Mike and Heather aren’t. They’re on the Parent-Teacher Association with me, for Pete’s sake. And they were all laughing about you and Sherman being shacked up together.”

  “Well, we’re not. The poor man is devastated, that’s all. I’m just trying to help him,” May said, cutting the bunch of grapes in half with an emphatic “snip” and dropping them onto the heap.

  “I know. I get that. But, enough already. When’s he going home?”

  May slapped the scissors onto the trolley and wiped her hands along her apron. “I can’t just kick him out. The séance was only three nights ago. Where’s he going to go?

  “Home. He’s a grown man!” Gerry said, waving his hands in the air.

  May shook her finger in his face. “I don’t care what the fools in this town say. I’m not going to toss Sherman out. Case closed.” She swung on her heels and stomped to the front of the store while Gerry stared after her, fuming.

  “Of all the stupid nonsense,” May muttered as she rounded the display counter and picked up a box of chocolate bars from the shelf beneath. “A man his age, bothered by some stupid gossip.” She stepped back around the counter and began stacking the bars onto the display.

  A minute later, Gerry stalked down the aisle with his coat flapping open over his apron. “I’m going home on time tonight. Susan’s holding supper for me.”

  “Good. Get going. No one told you to hang around,” May shouted, watching him over her shoulder as he stamped past her. The bell pealed as Gerry flung the door open, letting it bounce against the wall before storming through it and out into the night.

  “And don’t break the door just because you’re having a temper tantrum, you fat-head,” May yelled after him.

  Across the street, the sign on the Healing Hands’ door was flipped to “Closed,” and the lights were turned off. Steve Walker was in the curtained cubicle at the back of the store stripping down to his briefs. A shaded lamp was turned on low in the corner, and half a dozen glowing candles were spread along the top of a bookcase containing magazines. Steve grinned as he heard classical music playing with the sound of running water and bird song embellishing the sweet violins. Typical relaxation music. At least it wasn’t pan pipes; he couldn’t abide that. Mounting the padded, sheet-draped table, he flopped onto his stomach.

  “You ready, Steve?” Tiernay called through the curtain.

  He pulled the white sheet over the lower half of his body and positioned his face into the terrycloth-covered head rest. “Sure, come on in,” he called back.

  Tiernay whisked the curtain aside and stepped into the cubicle, pulling the curtain closed behind her. Her flip-flops smacked against her feet as she walked up to the table dressed in a pair of pink shorts and a white cotton t-shirt that exposed a lot of smooth, tanned skin. She leaned over to switch on a space heater, her shirt creeping up her back as she did.

  “Don’t want you getting cold,” she said, pushing a squeaking cart to the head of the table and pausing to inspect its contents. Selecting a plastic bottle from among the others, she squirted oil into her cupped hand and rubbed it between her palms. The scent of lavender and orange infused the air. Gently, Tiernay laid her hands onto Steve’s wide shoulders.

  “Temperature okay?”

  “Perfect,” he murmured, gazing down at her feet.

  “Okay, I want you to relax,” she said, tracing easy circles over his shoulders. “Let all the tension drain out of your body onto the table. I’m going to start easy and increase the pressure as I work at that blockage in your chi.”

  “Sure,” he said. He exhaled slowly and let himself enjoy the sensation of her strong hands kneading away at the tension in his neck and shoulder muscles. It had been a little crazy at work this week, what with Henry’s attack on Frank and subsequent disappearance, and he had put in a couple of extra-long shifts that had left him feeling worn-out. It was good to have some down time just to relax and let everything go.

  Tiernay worked in silence for a few minutes, gradually increasing the pressure and alternating flat-handed strokes with kneading as she worked along the base of his neck and down his right shoulder.

  “Have you ever had a massage before?” she asked, finding the trouble spot and concentrating on it, her thumbs jabbing into the tight muscle knot. Steve’s breath whistled through his teeth as he inhaled sharply.

  “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Don’t fight me, Steve. It’ll feel better soon,” Tiernay said as she applied steady pressure with her thumbs.

  “When you stop,” he muttered under his breath, fighting not to rise up off the table. After a couple of excruciating minutes, she left the tender spot and began thrusting her palms deep into the tissue along his spine. Steve exhaled and let himself rela
x again.

  “I’ve had a couple of massages at the gym, but nothing this deep before.”

  “Okay.” After several minutes, she worked her way to his lower back, brushing her palms along his hips and stroking back up again. “Well, this is different. I combine therapeutic massage with Chinese pressure point. It should open the blockage, but it may take two or three appointments before your energy flow is rebalanced.”

  He grunted in reply.

  She worked in silence, and Steve began to feel disembodied as she pounded and manipulated his body. He allowed his mind to drift with the music, listening to a gentle shower pattering upon a lake. Warm air from the heater blew crossways against his skin, and he felt cocooned by the pillows and soft sheets lying under and over his body.

  He was drowsing and almost asleep when Tiernay rested a hand upon his shoulder. “Time to turn over onto your back,” she said.

  Steve opened his eyes and raised one hand, wiping a spot of spittle from the side of his mouth. Geez, he felt rubbery, as if he had been flattened by a truck. Would he have enough energy to climb down from the table when she was finished? Summoning a reserve of strength, he flipped over, holding onto the sheet with one hand to keep his lower half covered.

  Tiernay lifted his arm back onto the table and sat down on a stool by his head. She squirted more oil into her hands, and the room filled with a different scent. Something earthy and nutty, with a rich undertone of spice. Was it cloves? He could almost taste it in his mouth, the smell was so strong.

  She rubbed her hands together and slid her palms down his arms, firmly at first but easing up on the pressure as her hands climbed back up his chest to his shoulders. She did this a second and a third time, and Steve felt his body slide forward and roll back as if he were being carried on a wave. Her fingers danced up his arms a fourth time, and she began concentrating on his right shoulder again.

  “So, tell me, Steve, is there anyone special in your life?” she murmured.

  His eyes flickered open as he tried to focus on her question. A face flashed before him and was gone in an instant. “No. Someone a few months ago, but it didn’t work out.”

 

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