Town Haunts

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Town Haunts Page 8

by Cathy Spencer


  “Bummer,” Tiernay said. She hummed along to the music under her breath for a few seconds. “Was she a local girl?” She was working on the problem spot again, but either it had released some or it was numb, because it hardly hurt this time. His head felt woozy, though. Must be the massage had increased his blood flow.

  “Not a girl ‒ a woman,” he muttered.

  “Aaah haa,” Tiernay replied, drawing out the vowel in each word as she rolled the cords in his neck before stroking under his jaw and along his throat. It was a curious sensation, and it made him feel oddly vulnerable. She began massaging his face, working her way up his jaw to his temples.

  “Do you still see her?”

  “Mmm. Every week,” he said, almost too exhausted to speak. Tiernay said nothing for the next few minutes as she rubbed his scalp with her fingertips. It felt so good that he moaned. She left that and worked soothing fingers down the back of his neck.

  The strokes became firm, slow, and rhythmical. He felt as if he were floating on a lake, bobbing gently up and down as her hands pushed him down and pulled him up again. “Do I know her?” she asked, pausing, her lips so close that her breath warmed his ear, her arms encircling his upper body.

  “Yeah,” he said, more of an exhalation than a word, his soul stripped open before her. “Anna.”

  Another minute passed as she worked her magic on him. “Anna,” she repeated huskily. “I had a hunch.” He was hardly aware of her voice, just her hands as they slid down his chest and across his belly. His eyes were closed, but as she spoke, he felt her leaning into him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her skin.

  “I think that we can do better, Steve,” she said, whispering in his ear, his flesh fused with her hands as she carried him further and further with the mastery of her craft.

  Outside the cubicle, the basement door inched closed, and a latch clicked noiselessly back into place.

  It was nine o’ clock; closing time. May was standing in front of the store entrance, locking the door. She stepped out from inside the screen and let it bump closed behind her. Turning around and lifting her eyes to the sky, she sniffed eagerly at the sharp, cold smell of decaying leaves and almost-snow in the air. She loved this time of year when the lethargic heat of summer gave way to the revitalizing chill of winter. The wind gusted against her cheeks as she gazed at the tiny pin-pricks of light in the velvety-blue sky next to the elegant slice of moon. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she blew it out through her lips, letting go of the tension in her shoulders.

  She shouldn’t have allowed Gerry to get to her like that. Poor kid, he was so middle-class, letting the small town gossip bother him. There was nothing so freeing as growing old and not giving a damn anymore. She smiled smugly. But she had always felt that way, not caring a flying fig for what other people thought. She and Earl. What a team they had made. Damn, how she missed that man, especially at night when she turned out the lights and there was no one lying beside her in the dark. It had been kind of nice, the last couple of nights, hearing Sherman’s rough snores drifting through her closed bedroom door. Maybe things might progress beyond friendship? She chuckled to herself. What would Gerry say to that?

  Something creaked close by in the wind. A tree branch? She cocked her head to listen. There was a rustling sound in the bushes along the front of the store and a loud, “meow.” May relaxed. Probably the next door neighbour’s old tom, on the prowl for his lady-love again. She dropped the keys into the pocket of her quilted coat and shuffled down the stairs, letting her hand slide down the wooden railing for support. These days her sixty-three-year-old ankles always ached after the long hours in the store, and she had to take her time on the stairs afterward.

  Reaching the sidewalk, she followed it along the gravel parking lot until it turned left at the side of the building. Turning the corner herself, she hesitated. Damn. The bulb had blown out at the top of the stairs beside her apartment door. The Diner was next door to her, but its security lights shone on Main Street and the back alley, leaving the space between the buildings and her apartment stairs in heavy shadow. Maybe she should try calling home on her cell? If Sherman were there, he could open the door and turn on the foyer light for her.

  It was nippy, and she gathered her coat more closely around her. Nuts, she was acting like a scaredy-cat. She’d walked the short distance home from work in ice, rain, and fog, and she could certainly find her way in the dark. Stepping forward with one hand feeling the wall beside her and the other outstretched, May groped her way through the blackness, walking the ten yards or so to the base of the stairs. Touching the first step with the toe of her shoe, her face broke into a smile. Nothing to it. She gripped the railing and hauled herself up, counting as she went.

  Bottom step, second step, third step, fourth. Her foot was reaching for the fifth when something blacker than the encompassing shadows surged up before her and towered over her head. A mouldy-smelling cloth skimmed over her face. She gasped, sucking it into her mouth. Spitting it out again, May shouted and beat both hands against it. The spectre leaned forward, and she overbalanced, tumbling backward. Her body thudded as she collided with each bone-rattling step on the way to the sidewalk. Smacking onto it, she collapsed into a heap. The spectre floated down the stairs and hovered overhead for three long seconds before dissolving into the gloom beside the building.

  May lay unconscious on the sidewalk with the wind blowing tufts of hair around her face. Only the old tom cat noticed her predicament. He touched her face with a damp, inquisitive nose before he, too, was gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  The shrill ring of the telephone woke Anna up. Grabbing for the receiver and pushing the hair out of her face, she glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It read 11:29 p.m.

  “Hello?” she muttered.

  “Anna, it’s Erna. Get over to May’s right away. She’s been hurt.”

  “What! What happened?” Anna asked, flinging off the covers.

  “She fell down her apartment stairs. She called me on her cell. I just called 911. Get moving!”

  Without bothering to say goodbye, Anna slammed down the phone, jammed her feet into her slippers, and almost fell over Wendy, who was scrambling up off the floor.

  “Wendy, down!” she shouted, pushing the startled animal back onto the floor. Grabbing her purse, she raced down the hallway for the front hall closet, where she grabbed a jacket and threw it over her pyjamas. She ran outside, slammed the door shut behind her, and jumped into her car parked out front of the garage. She backed quickly out of the driveway and tore off down the street, headed for town. Erna had no car, so she couldn’t get to May unless she walked. She must be worried sick about their friend!

  All kinds of desperate scenarios flitted through Anna’s mind as she drove. How had May fallen down the stairs? Was she seriously hurt? At least she’d been well enough to call Erna for help. Slamming on the brakes and careening into the parking lot, Anna stopped her car and ran along the front of the store. It was pitch black as she turned the corner toward May’s apartment, and she had to feel her way more slowly. Where were the lights? No wonder May had fallen.

  “May!” she shouted, but her friend didn’t answer. After a few yards, Anna spotted a small white light shining low on the ground. She hurried toward it and was able to make out May, stretched face down on the sidewalk. Reaching her, Anna saw that the light was coming from May’s cell phone, still open in her hand. May moaned, and Anna fell to her knees beside her. Fumbling in her bag, Anna found her own cell phone and flipped it open to provide more light. May’s eyes were closed.

  “May,” she said, gently tugging at her friend’s shoulder, “wake up.”

  The older woman’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at Anna. Her face was grey and creased with pain.

  “My leg,” she groaned.

  Anna turned to look, and saw that May’s left leg was turned out at an unnatural angle. She cringed and turned back to her friend. There was dirt em
bedded in May’s cheek, and Anna brushed it away. “Don’t move, the ambulance is on the way.”

  “Ghost,” May muttered.

  “What?” But before she could ask what she meant, Anna heard an emergency vehicle screaming toward them. She jumped up and dashed around the building to the parking lot, where the flashing lights of the ambulance momentarily blinded her. As she ran up to the passenger’s side of the vehicle, the window rolled down, and a young man peered out.

  “She’s around the side,” Anna shouted, just before the siren cut off. “She fell down the stairs and broke her leg. Bring a flashlight – it’s dark.” She jumped back as the door swung open, and left the paramedics to collect their gear as she hurried back to May.

  “They’re coming,” she said, kneeling down again and holding her friend’s hand. May’s eyes blinked open, and she squeezed Anna’s hand to show that she understood. Two minutes later, a gurney came rattling down the sidewalk as the two men rounded the building and trotted toward them, bouncing a bright flashlight beam off the wall until it focused on the two women on the ground.

  Anna got to her feet and backed onto the apartment stairs to make room. But then she thought of Gerry, and hurried back to retrieve May’s cell phone as the paramedics started their examination.

  “What’s her name?” the middle-aged man asked.

  “May Weston,” Anna replied as she eased May’s fingers from her cell.

  “How old is she?”

  “Sixty-three.” The man nodded. “I’m going to call Gerry,” Anna said, patting May’s hand. “Her son,” she said to the paramedics.

  Hurrying back to the stairs, she scrolled through the phone’s menu, finding Gerry’s name second on the contact list, right under Erna’s. She called his number, but his wife said that Erna had already called, and that Gerry should be there any second.

  “We need more light,” the younger paramedic called, holding out a bunch of keys. “We found these in May’s coat pocket. See if you can open the apartment door.”

  “Sure,” Anna said, scrambling to her feet. She grabbed the key ring and ran up the stairs, using her cell phone to light the way. Fumbling with the lock, she tried key after key before finding the correct one and opening the door. A dim light shone from a lamp on a side table in the living room; May must have left it on.

  “Sherman!” she shouted, feeling for the switch on the foyer wall. The ceiling light flashed on, and light poured out the door and down the stairs. “Sherman!” Anna called again, taking a few seconds to check the bedroom and the bathroom. He wasn’t there. Anna checked her watch. It was almost twelve o’ clock in the morning. Where was he?

  She left the apartment and descended halfway down the stairs. Gerry had arrived, wearing a parka over his pyjamas. He glanced up at her, and Anna waved. Together they watched the paramedics brace his mother’s neck and leg, flinching when May groaned in pain. When the men had May settled on the gurney and Gerry was following them back up the sidewalk toward the parking lot, Anna called, “Where are you taking her?”

  “Oilfields Hospital,” the middle-aged paramedic called over his shoulder just before the group rounded the building and disappeared.

  Anna nodded. Oilfields wasn’t a very large hospital, but it was close to Crane and could probably provide May with the care she needed. She sank down onto the stairs, deciding to stay out of the way until her friend was loaded into the ambulance, but the chill from the wooden stairs penetrated her pyjama bottoms, and she shivered. No point in getting cold. Anna trotted back into the apartment, where she pulled one of May’s home-made afghans from the back of the couch and wrapped herself in it. Leaving the door open to provide light, she climbed down the stairs backward, studying each step as she went. Reaching the bottom, she peered up at them again. They looked perfectly sound. Maybe May had tripped over a shoe lace and bumped her head in the fall? Evelyn’s ghost had been preying on all their minds since the séance, so it wasn’t too farfetched that she would mention a ghost after a bump on the head.

  Anna frowned. What had happened to Sherman? Was it just a coincidence that he wasn’t home, or had he somehow been involved? She heard an engine start up; the ambulance was leaving for the hospital. Climbing the apartment stairs once more, she left May’s cell phone on the coffee table and rummaged through the kitchen cupboards for light bulbs. There was no point in Sherman tripping on the stairs in the dark, too, whenever he got home. Choosing an outdoor bulb from the collection, Anna went outside to replace the burnt-out light. Only it wasn’t burnt out. There was no bulb in the socket at all. She stared at it, wondering how she had missed seeing it before. Someone had deliberately removed the bulb, maybe even hoping that May would be hurt. Whoever had done it, it sure as hell hadn’t been a ghost. Anna shook her head in disgust. Who would want to harm May?

  “Anna? Anna, are you there?” she heard someone call. It was Erna. Shoot, she should have called Erna as soon as the ambulance had arrived.

  “I’m at the apartment,” she shouted. She ran down the stairs and met her friend, dressed in a wool coat, scarf and hat, as she came around the side of the building.

  “Erna, you walked all the way over from your house at this time of night?”

  “I had to. I couldn’t sit at home worrying about May. Have they taken her to the hospital?”

  “Yes, you just missed her. Her leg was broken in the fall.” Erna’s lips pressed together into a tight line. Anna took her arm. “You’ve got to come see this,” she said, leading the elderly women up the stairs and indicating the empty light fixture. “Look at what I just found.”

  Erna stared at the socket. “Do you mean that the bulb was missing when May came home?”

  Anna nodded. “Someone wanted to hurt her.”

  Erna turned to look at Anna, her eyes troubled. “I hadn’t expected that. This changes everything.” She glanced inside the apartment. “Where’s Sherman? What does he have to say about May’s accident?”

  Anna shook her head. “He’s not here. I don’t know where he is.”

  A crease appeared between Erna’s eyes. “Maybe we should search for him, Anna. With what just happened to May, he could be in danger.”

  Anna stiffened. She was angry at Sherman for not being here when May needed him; it had never occurred to her that she should be worried about him instead.

  “Let me just screw in this bulb so that no one else falls down the stairs, and we’ll go look.”

  But they didn’t have to go far. Just as they were about to climb into Anna’s car, Sherman appeared, limping toward them. There was something odd about the way he held himself; he moved as if he were a mechanical man. It wasn’t until he joined the two women that Anna could smell the alcohol on his breath.

  “Ladies,” he said, tipping his ball cap, “Why are you out at this time of night?” Anna wrinkled her nose and backed up a step, folding her arms over her chest.

  “We came to help May,” she said, a grim expression on her face. “Where have you been?”

  “At Kennedy’s for a nightcap.” Kennedy’s was the local tavern, situated right on the edge of the highway before entering town. “But what’s that you said about May?”

  Anna studied his haggard face in the parking lot security light. His eyes were bleary, but he looked concerned.

  “She fell down the apartment stairs and broke her leg.”

  “No! How is she?” His shock seemed real enough.

  “Someone removed the bulb from the outside light so that she couldn’t see when she came home from work. After her fall, she must have lain there for hours.”

  Erna turned to look at her while Sherman stared back dismally. “That’s horrible,” he said. “Poor May.”

  “What time did you leave for Kennedy’s tonight?” Erna asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he responded, looking confused. “May was still in the store. I waved at her when I went by, but I don’t think she saw me.”

  “Was the outside light on when you left?” Erna
asked.

  Sherman strained to remember. “Yes, yes, it was. The sun had set, so I’d have noticed if it wasn’t on.”

  “Was anyone hanging around the side of the building?” Anna asked.

  “No.”

  “Or in the parking lot?” He shook his head.

  “You were gone a long time for a nightcap,” she added.

  “There was a football game on. I stayed until the end.”

  Anna studied him coolly, like a bug under a magnifying glass. “Too bad you weren’t here when she fell. You could have helped May right away, rather than leaving her out in the cold for hours.”

  Sherman gaped at her, his skin looking pasty. Anna didn’t care if she was twisting the knife into the wound; he shouldn’t have been out drinking when May needed him.

  Erna gave her a sharp look before taking Sherman’s arm. “I’m sure that she’ll be fine. They’ve just taken her to the hospital. She’ll be well looked after there.”

  “Are you going to the hospital now?” he asked Erna.

  “No. Gerry is with her. We’ll call in the morning to see how she’s doing. Why don’t you go to bed, Sherman? It’s late, and we’re all tired. We’ll let you know how May is once we hear in the morning.”

  “All right,” he said, looking grateful. “Tell her I can work for her in the store, if it helps. I worked with May a couple of nights this week, so I know what to do. Tell her I hope she feels better soon.”

  “We’ll be sure to do that,” Erna said, patting his arm. “Off you go. Get some rest.”

  Sherman nodded and limped his way through the parking lot. Anna and Erna watched him until he disappeared around the side of the store. Erna sighed.

  “Come on, I’ll take you home,” Anna said, turning toward the car. She clicked the remote to unlock the doors, and they climbed inside. Starting up the engine, Anna pulled out of the parking lot and turned right onto Main Street.

 

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