Boats and Bad Guys (An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Book 2)

by Diana Xarissa

  The trio talked about local news for a short while as they finished up their second round. “I think that’s enough for me,” Fenella said as she put down her empty glass. “I’ve been drinking more than I should lately. This pub is just too tempting.”

  “You can come in and drink something fizzy, you know,” Peter teased.

  “But the wine is so good,” Fenella told him. “And I’m so weak-willed.”

  Everyone laughed. “It isn’t all that late,” Shelly said, glancing at the clock as they headed for the elevator. “I’d completely lost track of the time.”

  “It’s only eight,” Peter said. “Really too early to be heading home.”

  “I’m ready for home and bed,” Fenella said stoutly. “Katie woke me at six this morning, which is her worst habit, really.”

  “And I suppose you got up and fed her,” Shelly said.

  “Of course, otherwise, you’d have heard her complaining in your apartment,” Fenella replied.

  The walk home was a short one, and Fenella found herself breathing deeply as they walked. “I love the smell of the sea,” she told the others.

  “The air is especially good for you, too,” Shelly said. “I sleep better here, right on the sea, than I ever have anywhere else.”

  “I usually sleep well here, too,” Fenella said. “I hadn’t thought about it, but I’m happy to credit the sea air for that.”

  Katie was chasing her tail when Fenella walked in. She blinked at her owner a few times and then jumped back onto her favorite chair, curled up and went to sleep.

  “I suppose that was your idea of quality time with me,” Fenella said to the pet. “Or maybe you’re just angry because I was petting another cat at the pub.”

  “Maybe you should take her with you once in a while,” Mona suggested.

  Fenella jumped. “I didn’t know you were here,” she said.

  “Obviously,” Mona replied. “How was your evening?”

  “It was good,” Fenella said. She told Mona about dinner and the conversations she’d had with Justin Newmarket. “I l feel as if I ought to tell the police about the things he told me,” she concluded. “But that feels, well, as if I’m betraying his trust or something.”

  “He didn’t ask you not to repeat the conversation,” Mona pointed out. “Maybe you’d be doing him a favor, getting the information to the police without him having to be the one who told on his friend.”

  “Maybe,” Fenella said doubtfully. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Why not ring Daniel and ask him how things are going?” Mona suggested.

  “I couldn’t possibly,” Fenella replied quickly. “Anyway, he won’t be at work this late at night, or he shouldn’t be.”

  “You have his mobile number,” Mona pointed out.

  “That’s only so we can let one another know when we’re going to be at the pub,” Fenella said. “And we aren’t doing that right now because of the investigation.”

  “Maybe you should text him and let him know that you’ve already been to the pub tonight. If he was thinking of going, then he’ll know he can, without having to worry about running into you,” Mona said.

  “I’m going to bed,” Fenella announced.

  “It’s only eight o’clock,” Mona said.

  “It’s nearly nine,” Fenella countered, glancing at the clock that showed eight-twenty.

  “And to think, when I left you my estate I thought you’d be having parties in here every night,” Mona said with a sigh.

  “I’m sorry if I’m a disappointment to you,” Fenella snapped. “Maybe if I can go a few weeks without finding any bodies, I’ll start to make some friends.”

  “Yes, I’m sure your reputation is somewhat off-putting for people.”

  Fenella bit her tongue and shook her head, her eyes prickling with tears she simply would not allow herself to shed in front of Mona. “Good night,” she snapped, spinning on her heel and stomping into the master bedroom. She slammed the door and then leaned against it, fighting back tears of frustration. When her phone began to ring a moment later, she took a deep shaky breath.

  “Hello?”

  “Fenella? It’s Dan, er, Daniel Robinson. I just wanted to see how you are.”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” Fenella answered, trying to sound carefree.

  “You sound upset,” Daniel replied. “What’s wrong?”

  My aunt is making me crazy, Fenella thought but didn’t say. “Yesterday was difficult,” she said instead. “And tonight I ran into Justin Newmarket, which didn’t help.”

  “Did you talk to him at all?”

  Fenella sighed. “I may as well tell you the whole story,” she said. She sat down on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath. When she finished several minutes later, Daniel was silent.

  “That’s all,” she said eventually. “I mean, then I went to the pub with Shelly.”

  “I asked you to ring me if you spoke to any of the suspects,” Daniel said after another awkward pause.

  “I was going to ring you tomorrow,” Fenella lied. “It seemed too late tonight.”

  “It’s not even nine o’clock,” Daniel said. “And I work all hours when I’m in the middle of a murder investigation. Next time, ring me as soon as you can, okay?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think the chat was important,” Fenella said. “And I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “I don’t know if it’s important or not,” he told her. “But everything is relevant at this point in the investigation. I’ll need to have another word with young Justin and then I’ll need to track down his friend. Thank you for telling me about the conversation.”

  “You’re welcome,” Fenella said quietly.

  “I’m not meant to socialize with witnesses during murder investigations,” Daniel said. “But maybe we could accidently bump into each other tomorrow around midday? We could get lunch somewhere, I suppose.”

  “I’m sorry,” Fenella said. “But I’m going to Peel Castle tomorrow.”

  “Oh, that should be fun for you,” Daniel said. “Are you going alone or is Shelly taking you?”

  “Actually, Peter is taking me,” Fenella said. She held her breath, wondering how Daniel would feel about that little detail.

  “Peter?” he echoed. “Well, as I said, have fun.”

  When she’d put the phone back on the desk, Fenella sat on the edge of her bed and tried to work out why the man had called. His suggestion that they have lunch together had confused her. Was he asking for a date or simply being friendly?

  She got ready for bed on automatic pilot and crawled under the duvet before Katie joined her. Men were too darn complicated, she thought as Katie jumped onto the bed and curled up in the center. Feeling as if she was better off with her cat, Fenella fell into a restless sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  She was falling and she couldn’t catch herself. When she hit the water, she began to swim as quickly as she could, but she didn’t know which direction she should go. The person who had been chasing her had hit the water right after she had, but Fenella didn’t know where he or she had gone.

  Heading toward the shore seemed like the best idea, but first she had to get around the ferry. As she swam desperately forward, the ferry seemed to move alongside of her, never allowing her to get around it. She thrashed out, hitting the water as hard as she could.

  “Yyyyyooooowwwwww,” Katie shouted as Fenella slammed her hand hard into the duvet.

  Fenella’s eyes flew open and she gasped. Robert Grosso’s killer had been chasing her around the ferry, she remembered. With nowhere to hide, she’d jumped off the boat and tried to swim to shore. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. She didn’t have to be up for many hours, but the nightmare had left her heart pounding.

  “Merrow?” Katie said, rubbing her face against Fenella’s cheek.

  “It’s okay,” Fenella told her. “I just had a bad dream.”

  Katie sat down and began to pat the top of Fenella’s
head gently. After a minute, Fenella felt a tear run down her face. She took a deep breath and then rolled over on her side. Katie snuggled up against her chest and seemingly fell asleep almost immediately. Not wanting to wake her sleeping pet again, Fenella laid very still, wondering if she’d ever be able to sleep again. When her alarm went off a few hours later, she was shocked to find that she’d slept well and neither she nor Katie had moved.

  Katie protested as Fenella switched off the alarm and sat up. “I do have to get up, I’m afraid,” Fenella told her. “I’m going to Peel Castle with Peter today.”

  The kitten stared at her for a moment and then shrugged and jumped off the bed. Fenella laughed as the animal started complaining from the kitchen about her lack of breakfast. It only took a moment to pour some food into a bowl for Katie before Fenella got herself through the shower and into suitable clothes for a day being spent mostly outside.

  It was overcast but dry as Fenella turned on her laptop and did a quick bit of reading about the castle she was going to visit. While it was disappointing that the site was mostly ruins, she was excited to read about its Viking heritage. By the time Peter knocked on her door, she’d filled her brain with as much knowledge as she could about their destination.

  “Ready to go?” Peter asked when Fenella opened the door.

  “I’m so excited,” Fenella answered. “I’ve been reading all about the history of the site and the pagan burial there where they found that fabulous necklace. It all sounds so wonderful.”

  “Let’s go, then,” Peter said, smiling at her.

  His car was in the garage under their apartment building. Fenella patted Mona’s sports car as they walked past it.

  “Please remind me to give you my friend’s card,” Peter said as he unlocked the car. “I promise you he’ll have you driving in no time.”

  “I’ve discovered that I’ll have to take the driving test again,” Fenella said. “Which is a very scary thought.”

  Peter laughed. “We all pick up so many bad habits over the years as we drive. I’m not sure I’d pass again, if I had to do that.”

  “Yes, well, I’m still thinking about it,” Fenella said. “Really, I hate not being able to drive. There are so many places I want to go and things I want to see. I must stop being silly and just get on with it, I suppose.”

  Peter drove out of the garage and headed for Peel. “If we don’t spend too long at the castle, we might have time for the House of Manannan as well,” he told her. “It’s a modern museum with all sorts of interactive displays. I’ve been told it does a good job of presenting the island’s history.”

  “You haven’t been before?” Fenella asked.

  “No, I haven’t,” he admitted. “I love going around museums when I travel, but when I’m at home, I simply never think about visiting ours.”

  “I suppose that’s fairly typical,” Fenella said. “Although as a historian, I intend to visit every museum and historical site on the island at least a dozen times a year.”

  Peter laughed. “I don’t know that you’ll want to visit that often,” he said. “But from what I understand, they are all certainly worth an occasional visit.”

  “I would go back to Castle Rushen every day if I could,” Fenella told him. “I’d move in, if they’d let me. I simply loved it there.”

  “Well, Castle Rushen is considerably more habitable than Peel Castle,” Peter replied. “Although I’m not sure that I’d use the word habitable to describe Castle Rushen. It would certainly be very cold and damp, if you tried to live there.”

  “But at least it has a roof,” Fenella pointed out.

  “That it does,” Peter agreed. “And Peel Castle is sadly lacking in that department.”

  This was Fenella’s first trip across the middle of the island, so she looked around with interest as Peter drove. After a short while, he pulled over to the side of the road and pointed past Fenella.

  “Tynwald Hill,” he announced. “The government of the island still meets there once a year. Everyone from the island can attend. All of the new laws that have been passed over the previous twelve months are read out in English and in Manx. Also, anyone who has a problem or concern can present it to the government on that day.”

  “Anyone can complain about anything?” Fenella asked.

  “There are procedures to follow, but basically, yes. I imagine it’s fairly unique to the island, that.”

  “I would think so,” Fenella said. “Presumably they can manage it because the island has a fairly small population. When does this happen?”

  “The fifth of July is Tynwald Day,” Peter told her. “Although the actual meeting of the parliament can be moved to the following Monday when the fifth is a Saturday or a Sunday.”

  “I’m going to put that on my calendar as soon as I get home,” Fenella said. “Clearly I didn’t read nearly enough about the island’s history before I moved back here.”

  Peter chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry too much about putting it on your calendar,” he said. “You won’t be able to miss it. There’s a huge, all-day fair out here with music and entertainment.”

  “How wonderful,” Fenella said. “And the new laws are read in Manx? I can’t wait to hear that. My mother used to try to teach me a few words in Manx, but I never wanted to learn. Now, of course, I’m sorry, but at the time I wasn’t interested.”

  “The language is having something of a revival,” Peter said as he pulled back onto the road. “There’s even a primary school where the children are taught entirely in Manx. I believe they start learning English in year three or four.”

  “Really? I had no idea it was used at all,” Fenella said. “Again, I should have done my research, shouldn’t I?”

  “The same people who run the school also run a handful of nurseries around the island. The idea is to incorporate as much Manx language as possible in their classrooms. The local radio station gives news updates in Manx, and there are a number of different classes in the subject, if you’re interested in learning it,” Peter told her.

  “I don’t know,” Fenella said. “I’ve never been good at foreign languages. I just get myself all tangled up very quickly with the grammar rules. They all seem so much more difficult than English.”

  “Maybe Manx isn’t for you, then,” Peter said. “It’s a Celtic language, so the rules are quite different.”

  “You seem to know a lot about the subject,” Fenella said.

  “My first wife took several classes in Manx and even dragged me along to a few,” he told her. “After we split up, I quit going, of course, but I keep thinking I might try again one of these days.”

  “Say something in Manx.”

  Peter grinned. “Moghrey mie,” he said.

  “That means good morning,” Fenella told him with a smile. “That’s probably the only thing I remember from my mother’s efforts.”

  “Very good,” Peter said. “And now, on your right, is the aforementioned House of Manannan.”

  Fenella looked out the side window and gasped. “But it looks as if the boat is sailing right through the front window,” she said.

  “Yes, it’s very cleverly done,” Peter told her. “We’ll have to try to find time for it this afternoon.”

  The road to the castle was actually a narrow causeway that connected St. Patrick’s Isle, the site of the castle, to the mainland. Peter drove slowly down the causeway and then found a parking space in a small lot overlooking the beach.

  “This is lovely,” Fenella said as she climbed out of the car. “If a bit windy,” she added as the cool breeze hit her.

  “It’s only a short walk to the castle from here,” Peter told her, offering her his arm.

  Fenella took it, feeling like an excited child on her way to an amusement park. The outer walls of the castle appeared to be completely intact, and Fenella found herself hurrying as they made their way up the steps and onto the castle grounds.

  “Ah, good morning,” the young man behind the ticke
t desk said when Fenella and Peter reached him. “Two admissions?”

  “Yes, please,” Fenella said. She turned to Peter. “Let me pay for this, as you’ve driven,” she suggested.

  “As long as I can buy lunch, then,” Peter countered.

  “We’ll argue about lunch later,” Fenella told him with a smile.

  “I always recommend the audio tour,” the man told her after she’d paid for their admission. “It’s included in the price of admission and offers a wonderful narrated tour of the site.”

  Fenella took the audio guide, which was large and slightly unwieldy, and eagerly began her tour. Peter followed with his own guide.

  Several hours later, Fenella had walked around the entire site twice and visited every stop on the audio tour. At some point, Peter had given up and gone to sit on a bench in the sunshine. As the tour concluded, Fenella blinked several times, trying to drag herself back to the twenty-first century. She looked around the vast site and spotted Peter near the outer wall.

  “I’ve just been watching the seals,” he told Fenella when she joined him.

  “Seals?” Fenella repeated.

  “There.” Peter pointed toward the sea and Fenella looked down at the rocks and waves below them. A handful of dark heads could be seen bobbing up and down in the water.

  “Wow,” Fenella breathed. Feeling as if she could watch them all day, she settled onto the bench next to Peter. A moment later her stomach growled loudly.

  “Oh, dear,” Fenella gasped, blushing. “I’ve completely lost track of the time. Is it time for some lunch?”

  “It’s nearly one o’clock,” Peter told her. “I’d call that past time for some lunch.”

  “I am sorry,” Fenella said. “I was so caught up in the tour that I didn’t even think about the time.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Peter said. “But I am getting quite hungry. There’s an excellent pub just across the street from the House of Manannan. We could get lunch there and then visit the museum after.”

  “Perfect,” Fenella said.

  “Would you like to stop in the gift shop before we go?” Peter asked.