Fenella shook her head. “They didn’t seem to be getting along terribly well yesterday,” she told her aunt.
“I would imagine they’re already getting quite tired of each other,” Mona said. “I can’t see them lasting too much longer, unless Harry decides he’d rather have to live with her than part with any of his money. We’ll see.”
“Could either of them have killed Robert Grosso?” Fenella asked.
Mona shrugged. “Again, I can’t work out much of a motive for either of them. Perhaps, if Sherry was having an affair with Robert, she might have killed him to keep him from telling Harry about it, but if Robert was having an affair, he had plenty of good reasons for keeping quiet about it himself.”
“I don’t think I like any of these people,” Fenella said, mostly to herself.
“Well, don’t waste any energy trying to like Charlotte Masters,” Mona said firmly. “She’s incredibly disagreeable.”
“I thought maybe she was just upset yesterday,” Fenella said.
“Oh, no, she’s always difficult,” Mona told her. “She didn’t approve of my lifestyle, either, and she made a point of telling me that every time she saw me. She was always incredible nosy as well, prying into my personal life and asking all manner of rude questions, and then acting quite put out when I refused to answer.”
“Does any of that give her a motive for murder?” Fenella asked.
“I can’t imagine that it does,” Mona said sadly. “If she’d been the victim, there would be a very long list of suspects, but I can’t imagine her killing anyone. Not unless she has some deep dark secret of her own that Robert Grosso discovered and threatened to reveal.”
“That’s an interesting idea,” Fenella said.
“It’s certainly my favorite solution to the murder,” Mona told her with a grin.
“What about the ferry captain?” Fenella asked. “Did you know him?”
“Captain Howard,” Mona said, her voice almost a purr. “I’m sure he came across as ill-tempered and rude, but he’s actually a lovely man.”
“Is he, now?” Fenella asked suspiciously.
Mona giggled. “I knew his father,” she explained. “And his grandfather. Neither of them approved of his chosen career, of course. They were both very successful advocates. Anyway, I knew Matthew from childhood and I can assure you that he had nothing to do with any murder.”
“So where does that leave us?” Fenella demanded. “We don’t seem to have come any closer to working out who killed Robert Grosso.”
“No, but it was an interesting conversation,” Mona said. “Now you can go out and start gathering information about the various suspects, and then we can talk again.”
“I’m sure there must be many other suspects,” Fenella said. “If the man was dead for some time before I found him, that suggests that he was on the ferry before they were letting passengers board. He must have been killed by some member of the crew, therefore.”
“You’ve been giving this a lot of thought,” Mona said approvingly.
“Not too much,” Fenella muttered. “But it is on my mind, of course.”
“You must ring Daniel and ask him about that very thing,” Mona told her.
“I’m not ringing anyone,” Fenella said firmly. “I’m not getting involved in another murder investigation.”
“Suit yourself,” Mona said. “I’ll just go and see what I can find out, then.”
Before Fenella could speak, Mona faded away.
“You do that,” Fenella snapped at the empty air.
Realizing that she was starving, Fenella made herself some toast and spread it liberally with honey. She needed the extra sugar after the stress of the previous day, she told herself, as she nibbled her way through a third slice. After breakfast, she forced herself to sit down with one of the many biographies of Henry the Eighth in her collection and began to read and take notes. By the time noon rolled around, she was thoroughly ready for a long break.
“Lunch and then a walk on the promenade,” she told herself as she walked to the kitchen.
“Merow,” Katie said conversationally from next to her food bowl.
“Yes, yes, I know. You seem to have run out of kitty munchies, haven’t you?” Fenella replied. She filled the cat’s food and water bowls and then made herself some soup and a sandwich.
“It’s a shame you aren’t a dog,” she said to Katie as they both ate.
Katie hissed at her.
Fenella laughed. “But wouldn’t it be nice to go for a long walk on the promenade with me?” she asked the kitten.
Katie shook her head and then walked out of the kitchen, straight to her favorite chair. She jumped up onto it and turned around several times before curling up in a ball. Again, she seemed to be asleep in seconds.
Fenella sighed and finished her lunch, piling all of the dishes into the dishwasher. Maybe Katie had the right idea. Maybe she should simply go back to bed as well. The warm spring sunshine coming through her windows persuaded her to venture outdoors, though. She walked in the opposite direction from the Sea Terminal, wanting to stay as far away from it as she possibly could. The fresh air and brisk exercise left her feeling refreshed by the time she returned to her apartment building.
Katie apparently hadn’t moved while Fenella had been gone, but she did lift up her head to stare at her owner as Fenella walked into the room.
“Did I miss anything?” she asked the animal.
“Mmmmerroowww,” Katie said.
Fenella raised an eyebrow. What was Katie trying to tell her? She glanced at her phone on the table and then sighed. The light on her answering machine was blinking. Clearly someone had called while she’d been out and the phone had disturbed Katie.
“So sorry that you were bothered,” Fenella said sarcastically.
She pressed the play button and was surprised when the mechanical voice told her she had two new messages. No wonder Katie was annoyed.
“Ah, Fenella, it’s Edward Jones. I’m awfully sorry that your plans had to be changed at the last minute. You know my door is always open for John’s baby sister. Ring me when you’ve rebooked and we’ll work something out.”
Fenella smiled. Surely, at her age, she wasn’t anyone’s baby sister anymore? The second message wiped the smile off her face.
“Maggie? It’s Jack. I was just surfing the Internet and I found an article about a dead man on the ferry there. I’m sure you aren’t involved this time, but it’s still disturbing. I think it might be best if I came over for a visit. I’ll have to see about getting a passport, but once that’s taken care of, I’ll be on the next flight to London. You’ll be able to pick me up there, won’t you? Call me back.”
Fenella sighed deeply. For such an intelligent man, Jack was surprisingly stupid sometimes. Which was one of the reasons why, after ten years as a couple, she’d been happy to leave him behind. It felt strange to hear him call her Maggie, even though she’d gone by her middle name, Margaret, when she’d lived in the US. Jack was just about the only person in the world who called her Maggie, which she’d never really liked. Sighing again, she reached for her phone.
“Jack, don’t come to visit,” she said when he answered.
“Oh, Maggie, you don’t mean that,” he replied. “I miss you and you must miss me. We were good together.”
“You don’t miss me, you miss having everything done for you,” Fenella corrected him. “Now you have to do you own grocery shopping and cooking and laundry, and you hate that.”
“Actually, Hazel has been doing my laundry for me,” Jack told her. “She said it isn’t any trouble, as she never has a full load. Apparently, I’m doing her a favor, which is good, because the first load I did on my own all came out pink for some reason.”
Fenella swallowed a sigh. “I’m glad Hazel is taking care of you,” she muttered, feeling almost sorry for the other woman whom she’d never liked. “At least as far as laundry is concerned.”
“And Sue is doing m
y grocery shopping,” Jack added. “She shops every Sunday for herself and she said she can save a lot of money by buying everything in bulk and then splitting it with me.”
“Did she?” Fenella asked.
“But I still miss you,” Jack said. “And I’m worried about you. There seem to be a lot of murders happening over there.”
“No more so than in Buffalo,” Fenella told him.
“But Buffalo is a big city,” Jack argued. “I thought the island was tiny.”
“Whatever you thought, I’m perfectly safe,” Fenella said, hoping she was speaking the truth. “And I’m not your concern anymore, anyway. We split up, remember?”
“Are you seeing other men?” Jack demanded. “I don’t like the idea of you seeing other men.”
“You’re seeing other women,” Fenella pointed out.
“I am not,” Jack said.
“What about Sue and Hazel? Surely you aren’t just letting them do your shopping and laundry without buying them dinner once in a while to thank them.”
“Do you think I should?” Jack asked. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Fenella sighed again. She’d known when she and Jack were together that both women were interested in the man. No doubt they were finding it frustrating now that he was single that he was so completely clueless as to their intent.
“I’m sure they’re both expecting it,” Fenella said.
“Oh, dear, maybe I should just do my own laundry and shopping,” Jack fretted.
“Or maybe you should ask one of them to move in with you,” Fenella suggested.
“But what will you do when you come back?” Jack asked.
“I’m not coming back,” Fenella told him.
“I’m going to see what I need to do to get a passport,” Jack said. “I think I need my birth certificate, though. I don’t suppose you remember where I keep it?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Fenella said. She could have hazarded a guess that the document in question was in the huge pile of papers that he was always talking about filing but never got around to, but his problems were no longer hers.
“I think I can order a copy,” he said thoughtfully. “I wonder how you do that.”
“Yes, well, I suggest you stop worrying about it,” Fenella said. “You’ve no reason to visit me, and hotels are very expensive over here. The trip would cost you a fortune.”
“I thought I would just stay with you,” Jack said, sounding hurt.
“Oh, goodness, no,” Fenella said quickly. “The island is very old-fashioned. My neighbors would never approve of me having a man to stay with me, not when we aren’t married.” She could only hope that Jack would never discovered that she wasn’t being totally honest with him.
“Maybe we should get married,” he said plaintively.
“Marry Hazel or Sue,” Fenella told him. “I’m not coming back to Buffalo.”
“What is the island like?” Jack asked. “Would I like it?”
“I hardly think so,” Fenella said. “But I need to go. Thank you for your concern, but it’s misplaced.”
“So you aren’t involved in this latest murder?” he asked.
“Someone is at my door,” Fenella lied. “I have to go.” She hung up the phone and put her head in her hands.
“Merrrrrow,” Katie said from her chair.
“It seemed a nicer lie than lying about the murder,” Fenella tried to justify herself to the cat. “I didn’t know what else to say.”
“You should stop taking his calls,” Mona suggested.
“Sure, and then when he turns up here, you can deal with him,” Fenella replied.
“I think I’d quite like to meet him, actually,” Mona said. “He seems ghastly when you speak to him. I’m incredibly curious as to what you saw in him for all those years.”
“Sometimes I ask myself that very same question,” Fenella admitted. “I keep thinking that it was just easier to stay with him than go through all of this. He’s having enough trouble dealing with the split and I’m three thousand-odd miles away. I can’t imagine what he’d have been like if I’d dumped him but stayed in Buffalo.”
A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. “Only a few minutes too late,” Fenella muttered as she crossed the room.
“I know we both spent a fortune shopping yesterday, but I can’t face cooking tonight,” Shelly told her. “I thought maybe I could persuade you to join me for some pizza at that little place a few doors down.”
“I love their pizza,” Fenella said, her mouth already watering.
“We could eat too much and then go to the Tale and Tail and drink too much as well,” Shelly suggested.
“That sounds like the perfect evening,” Fenella told her.
Shelly went back to her own apartment to get ready while Fenella changed into something a bit nicer than the jeans and sweatshirt she’d been in all day.
“Wear a dress,” Mona urged her. “Or at least a skirt.”
Fenella shook her head. “The nights are still a bit chilly,” she said. “I’ll be more comfortable in pants.”
“Trousers,” her aunt corrected her. “You don’t want to talk about pants in polite company over here.”
Fenella nodded. Whoever had said that a common language divided the US and the UK was absolutely correct. She was amazed nearly every day with how many words were different in the two countries.
She found a pair of black trousers and a light red sweater that were warm, comfortable and slightly dressy. After combing her hair, she touched up her makeup and then waited for Shelly. Less than five minutes later, the other woman knocked on her door.
Fenella picked up her bag and was ready to go out when Katie let out a shout.
“MMMeeeoowww,” Katie said crossly.
“Oh, dear, I haven’t given you your dinner, have I?” Fenella said. “Sorry,” she told both Shelly and Katie.
A minute later, Katie was happily munching her way through her dinner, with a full water bowl next to her, and Fenella was ready to try leaving again.
“Let’s go before she decides she needs something else,” Fenella told Shelly.
“Maybe I don’t want a kitten,” Shelly laughed.
“You really do,” Fenella told her.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
Chapter Seven
The little Italian restaurant was busy, but then, it was always busy. Fenella and Shelly were shown to a table in the corner. They asked for garlic bread before they’d even sat down. Their waiter laughed.
“Everyone always wants garlic bread,” he said. “I’ll put that order in while you look at the menus.”
“I don’t really need to look,” Shelly told Fenella after they were settled in. “I’m having pizza. I always do.”
Fenella opened her menu and read through the list of pasta dishes and pizzas. As the waiter returned with their garlic bread, she shut the menu and smiled at Shelly. “I looked, but I can’t find anything I want more than I want pizza.”
Drinks and food ordered, Fenella glanced around the room. The other customers seemed to range in age from an elderly gentleman at the head of a large table to a toddler in a high chair who looked to be covered in tomato sauce.
“I’ve never been here when it hasn’t been busy,” Fenella told Shelly.
“It’s because the food is so good,” Shelly said after she’d swallowed a bite. “And the garlic bread is amazing.”
Fenella helped herself to a second slice and grinned. “I won’t argue with that,” she said.
She looked around the room again, this time paying more attention to the people around her. Having lived on the island for six weeks now, she was starting to feel as if she ought to recognize more people. Logically, she knew that the island was home to around eighty thousand people and that she’d only met a handful of them, but she was still disappointed that Shelly was the only familiar face in the room.
A large group came in and was seated across the r
oom from them. They were laughing and shouting together, and Fenella didn’t bother to study them as they all appeared to be in their teens or early twenties.
“Well, there’s a familiar face,” Shelly said, nodding toward the new arrivals.
“Someone I know?” Fenella asked, surprised.
“Someone you’ve met, at least,” Shelly told her. “It’s Justin Newmarket and some of his friends.”
Fenella turned in her seat to look at the group again. Shelly was right. Justin was sitting between two beautiful blondes, but he didn’t look happy.
“The girls with him are stunning,” Fenella commented.
“The one on his left is his sister,” Shelly told her. “She’s a year or two younger and light years smarter than her brother.”
“He doesn’t look happy, does he?” Fenella asked.
“Not at all,” Shelly agreed. “I wonder what’s bothering him.”
The waiter returned with their drinks, and their pizzas weren’t far behind. The pair ate and chatted, but Fenella found her eyes returning to Justin repeatedly. He was eating and drinking as well, but he didn’t seem to be enjoying himself.
“I think I might just use the loo before we leave,” Fenella said as she wiped her mouth. “I won’t be long.”
“Well done for remembering to use ‘loo’ this time,” Shelly laughed.
“I am trying,” Fenella told her.
She walked across the room, right past Justin and his friends. Feeling rather foolish, she made a point of catching Justin’s eye and nodding at him on her way. A few minutes later, feeling refreshed, she started back across the room to Shelly.
“Hey, hey, aren’t you that woman from the ferry?” Justin shouted as she passed his table.
Fenella stopped and smiled at the man. “It was Justin, wasn’t it?” she said. She took the handful of steps she needed to stand next to him by the large table. The group had been having a loud conversation when she’d walked out of the bathroom; now everyone stopped speaking and stared at Fenella.
“Yeah,” Justin muttered. “But have you heard anything from the police? That’s what I want to know.”
“I haven’t spoken to the police lately,” Fenella replied. “But I can’t imagine why they would contact me, anyway. What happened on the ferry was nothing to do with me.”
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