Authors: Cathy Spencer
Tags: #dog mystery, #cozy mystery series woman sleuth, #humour banter romance, #canadian small town, #paranormal ghost witch mystery
Anna cringed,
suddenly remembering Charlie. What would he say if he knew about
the kiss?
As if reading
her thoughts again, Greg said, “Don’t be so middle-class, Anna. It
was a kiss, not an affair. You’ve done nothing to be ashamed of, so
don’t give it a second thought. You should be thinking about how
you want to pose for me instead.”
“With my
clothes on!”
“Are you so
sure?” he asked, one eyebrow arching. “Think what a lovely gift a
ravishing portrait of you ‘au naturel’ would make for your
boyfriend this Christmas.”
“Greg!” she
wailed, becoming more and more flustered.
He laughed and
patted her hand. “I’m just toying with you, darling. I wouldn’t ask
you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, but what else
have you got to do this afternoon? A load of laundry? Make a
casserole? Come on, do me this one great favour and pose for
me.”
Anna glanced at
him sideways. He was right, she has been planning to make a pot of
chili so that she’d have leftovers for later in the week. But Greg
was a lot of fun to be with, and the prospect of spending a
beautiful Sunday afternoon without him suddenly seemed rather
dull.
“What about
Wendy?”
“Bring her
along, if you like.”
“Okay, but let
me duck into the house to drop off your drawing and grab Wendy’s
leash first,” she said as they drew near her cottage.
Greg nodded and
waited outside while Anna rushed into the house, taking a moment to
brush her hair and apply some powder and lipstick before hurrying
back out with her dog. She found Greg chatting with Betty Hiller.
Betty turned to greet her, the dimples flashing in her face.
“Hi, Anna. Greg
was just showing me some of his sketches. You’re a lucky girl to be
drawn by him!”
Anna frowned.
Betty was a sweet lady and a good neighbour, but it would have been
better to keep the portrait private. Betty was bound to say
something about it at The Diner, and soon or later everyone in town
would hear about it. And with the nude drawings of Tiernay on
display at her store, Anna was sure to get plenty of ribbing. She
decided to put a brave face on it, however, and smiled
brightly.
“I know! I’m
thrilled that Greg wants to sketch me.” She turned to include him
in the conversation. “Maybe this could be a new sideline for you,
Greg. All the ladies in town would line up to have you draw
them.”
“Not me,” Betty
was quick to say. “I’m too old and fat.” She pointed to the open
page in Greg’s pad, and Anna sighed as her eyes were drawn to
another nude portrait of Tiernay.
“I don’t draw
every lady in the nude,” Greg said. “With my sister, it’s
impossible not to. There’s something so primal in her spirit. I
like to reveal both the inner and outer woman.”
“There you go,”
Anna said, shooting him a grateful smile. “Greg’s not going to
sketch me in the buff. Of course not. That would be silly.”
“We’ll see,”
Greg said with a wicked smile that made her want to kick him.
“Well, I
mustn’t keep you,” Betty said. “Greg said he wanted to pose you
outdoors in this gorgeous sunlight, so you probably want to get
going.”
“Just chomping
at the bit,” Greg replied, closing his sketch pad and dropping it
into his bag. He took Betty’s hand and raised it to his lips.
“Lovely to meet you, Betty.”
She giggled and
dropped him a short curtsy. “Have a fun afternoon, Anna,” she said
with a wink before turning and trotting up the road to her
driveway. Probably in a hurry to tell her husband all about it,
Anna thought.
“Shall we?”
Greg said, offering her his arm as they began to walk again. “I’m
glad we’re spending the afternoon together ‒ there’s something I
want to talk to you about.”
“Oh? What’s
that?” Anna asked, suddenly wary.
“Tiernay told
me about the conversation you and your friends had with her earlier
this week. She was pretty disappointed when you didn’t want to hold
another séance, and she’s been feeling anxious about Evelyn ever
since, especially after May’s accident. Or was it an accident? A
little birdie told me that May thought she saw a ghost on her
apartment stairs just before she fell.”
He looked at
her, waiting for a response, but Wendy was stalking a cat, and Anna
used the diversion to stall. Pulling sharply on the leash, she
called, “Wendy! Leave that cat alone.” The dog dropped back to heel
beside her, and the cat continued washing its face from the end of
its driveway.
“Cats! They
have so much more attitude than dogs,” Anna said with a smile. “Do
you have any pets, Greg?”
“Not at the
moment,” he replied, an expectant expression still on his face.
Anna could see that she would not be able to evade his question,
and took a moment to grope for a politic response. She
shrugged.
“You heard
right ‒ May thought she saw a ghost on her apartment stairs. She
tripped trying to get away from it.”
Greg nodded.
“Just as Tiernay suspected. Evelyn’s unhappy that her death still
hasn’t been avenged, so she’s beginning to take it out on the
people who held the séance. The question is, what are you ladies
going to do about it?”
Anna shook her
head. “Be reasonable. What can we do about it? Even if Evelyn were
murdered, how are we supposed to find out who killed her?”
“By holding
another séance and asking Evelyn.”
“And if Evelyn,
speaking through Tiernay, told us who her murderer was, what then?
Are we supposed to kill for her?”
“Of course not.
Evelyn would probably want you to go to the police.”
“As if that
would get us anywhere!” Anna replied, throwing up her hands. They
were walking down Main Street, and Anna nodded to someone she knew
exiting the post office.
She turned back
to Greg. “I’m sorry to say this, but I’m still not convinced that
there is a ghost. I don’t mean any disrespect to your sister, but
there’s absolutely no proof that Evelyn was murdered, or that her
ghost is haunting the town. May thought she saw something on her
stairs that night, but it was pitch black, and she fell and hit her
head. We can’t put much weight in what she thinks she saw.”
“What about
what Sherman heard in the cemetery?” Greg asked as they crossed the
street toward Healing Hands. Tiernay was inside, and they waved at
her. The young woman’s eyes followed them as they continued their
walk past the store and up the street.
“That’s the
crux of it, isn’t it, Greg? It all started with Sherman hearing
someone calling to him in the cemetery.”
“Yes. What’s
your point?”
“Look, try to
listen to me without any bias, okay?”
“I’ll try. Go
ahead.”
“First of all,
Sherman might have been drunk and imagined the whole thing.”
Greg shrugged.
“That’s always been a possibility, if you discount what Tiernay
felt at the séance. Anything else?”
Anna spoke
slowly, trying to sort through her thoughts as she talked. “Maybe
there was something going on in the cemetery that night, and
Sherman interrupted it. Everyone knows Sherman, so calling his name
and pretending to be a ghost to scare him away wouldn’t have been
so difficult.”
Greg glanced at
her sideways. “What do you think might have been going on?”
“Well, maybe
some kids were smoking pot and didn’t want to get caught. The
cemetery’s just down the street from the school, so it would be a
pretty convenient place for them to meet. Heaven knows, kids get up
to stuff, even in small towns. Maybe especially in small towns. Or,
someone might be using the cemetery to sell drugs. It’s nice and
private in there, especially at night.”
Greg was silent
beside her, pondering what she had said. “That’s interesting,” he
said after a moment. “I wonder if the police check the cemetery at
night. Maybe I should ask Tiernay to talk to Steve about it.”
“Good idea.
That would be one less thing for me to worry about.”
“I should hope
so,” Greg said, grabbing her elbow. “Don’t go getting any daft
notions about visiting the cemetery alone at night. If there is
something going on in there, I don’t want you getting hurt and
ending up in the hospital, too.” They were on the sidewalk outside
his house, and Greg waited for her response as Wendy stuck her nose
between them.
“Of course
not,” Anna said, smiling to reassure him. “Even I wouldn’t be that
stupid.”
“All right,”
Greg said, calming down. “Sorry about that, Wendy,” he added,
looking down and patting her head.
Anna looked
away and noticed a man sitting on the front porch. The stranger
rose from his chair as they made eye contact.
“Greg,” she
said, nudging him, “there’s someone waiting for you.”
“Huh? Emmanuel!
What a pleasant surprise,” he replied, towing Anna and Wendy across
the lawn.
“Surprise?” the
man said, sunlight glinting off his bald head as they climbed the
stairs to meet him. He was short, broad, and muscular, dressed in a
jacket and tie with jeans. “Did you forget our appointment?”
Greg’s eyes
widened. “I’m such an idiot! I did forget. I’m sorry. I hope I
didn’t keep you waiting long.”
Greg’s friend
nodded. “About twenty minutes. I was just about to leave.”
“How stupid of
me. Please accept my apology.”
The man smiled
at Anna, the folds of his swarthy face lifting. “You must have been
distracted by your lady friend.”
Greg turned to
her with a smile. “Of course. This is a business associate of mine.
Emmanuel Cabrero.”
“Pleased to
meet you, Anna,” Cabrero said, holding out his hand. Anna smiled
and shook it. His grasp was warm and strong.
“I’m so sorry,
Anna,” Greg said, taking her hand when Cabrero released it.
“Emmanuel commissioned some artwork for a catalogue he’s producing,
and we were going to go over the proofs this afternoon. We’ll have
to reschedule our sitting. You will forgive me, won’t you?” He
looked genuinely disappointed, and Anna felt touched that the
sitting meant so much to him.
“Sure, not a
problem. We can do it any time.”
“Thanks for
understanding,” Greg said, kissing her hand.
“Nice dog you
got there,” Cabrero said. Anna turned to notice her dog sniffing
the man’s crotch.
“Wendy, stop
that!” she commanded, tugging at the leash and pulling her pet
away. “Sorry,” she added to Cabrero.
He shrugged and
clasped his hands together. Anna noticed how thick and meaty they
appeared. “What can you do? Dogs will be dogs.”
“Thanks for
understanding,” she said with a smile. He nodded. “I’ll see you
later, Greg. Nice meeting you, Emmanuel.”
“Bye,” Greg
called after her as she and Wendy climbed down the stairs and cut
across the yard toward the sidewalk. Anna sighed. It looked like
she was going to spend the afternoon making chili after all.
Chapter Eighteen
Anna drowsily
half-opened her eyes. Something had woken her, but she couldn’t
remember what it was. The room was dark; it was the middle of the
night. She could hear Wendy’s gentle breathing coming from the
floor beside the bed, so whatever it was that had woken her hadn’t
disturbed the dog. She turned her head to glance at the green
display on the clock radio: 2:47 a.m. She sighed and rolled over,
hoping to drop off again quickly. A flash of lightning brightened
the room, however, and the curtains fluttered in the breeze. She
had left the window open a couple of inches to let in some fresh
air. Was a storm brewing? Too groggy to get up and close the
window, Anna decided to ignore it and shut her eyes.
She was
drifting off to sleep again when she heard a noise, a high-pitched
sound just loud enough to be annoying. Must be the wind rising. She
sighed and snuggled down under the covers, cozy in her little
cocoon. But the noise grew louder, and Anna stiffened, suddenly
wide awake. It wasn’t the wind she had heard; it was that song
again. The same creepy old tune that she had heard on the night of
the séance. Anna sat up in bed with the sheet wrapped around her
waist, her eyes fixed on the window. The music was coming from
outside.
With her heart
rate accelerating, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and
stood up. Wendy, immediately awake, got up from her pillow and
shuffled over. Anna stroked the dog’s sleek head before forcing
herself to creep across the room to the window. Reaching for the
curtain, she flicked it aside and peered out at the front lawn.
Half-way up the
grass, a woman stood, motionless. A fork of lightning streaked
across the sky, illuminating her and making Anna squint. The woman
was draped from head to toe in a shapeless black dress that
billowed in the wind, her face covered by a hood, her arms hanging
loosely by her sides. What had summoned her to Anna’s front yard in
the middle of the night?
As Anna stared,
the woman lifted her arms and began to move in time to the music,
revolving in the slow circles of a ghastly waltz. There was
something odd about the way she moved, and Anna strained to see
better in the darkness. The graceful creature swirled up her lawn,
and as she drew nearer, Anna suddenly saw what was wrong. She
moaned in fear. The woman’s feet hovered an inch or so above the
ground, treading on air.
Abruptly, the
woman stopped in mid-turn, even though the tinkling music played
on. She had seemed oblivious to Anna’s incredulous eyes, but now
she swivelled to face her. Slowly reaching up, she pulled the hood
down from her head, and Anna’s mouth dropped open. Where there
should have been a face, there were only smooth waves of silvery
hair tossing in the wind. The creature revolved once more, turning
her back as if to spite Anna, and a bone-white, gleaming face
appeared, the neck twisted brokenly over the back.
Anna gasped and
covered her mouth in horror. The woman’s unblinking eyes gazed at
her from her awkwardly-angled head, her mouth gaping open as if to
speak. While Anna watched, the ghost raised her arms and started
drifting up the yard toward her.