Friends and Frauds (An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Book 6)

by Diana Xarissa

  Friends and Frauds

  An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy

  Diana Xarissa

  Text Copyright © 2018 Diana Xarissa

  Cover Copyright © 2018 Linda Boulanger – Tell Tale Book Covers

  All Rights Reserved

  Created with Vellum

  For my friends. You know who you are!

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Guests and Guilt

  Acknowledgments

  By the Same Author

  About the Author

  Author’s Note

  We seem to have reached the sixth book in this series very quickly. Maybe that’s because I’m having such fun writing about Fenella and Mona. I have a great many more adventures planned for them. The books don’t need to be read in order, but the characters and their relationships do change and develop throughout the series.

  This series primarily uses American English, as Fenella grew up and spent most of her life in the US. When characters from the UK or the Isle of Man speak, however, they do so in British English. (At least that’s my plan. I can’t promise I don’t make mistakes.)

  This is a work of fiction and all of the characters within it are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance they may bear to any real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The shops, restaurants, and other businesses mentioned in the story are also fictional creations. While the historical sites and landmarks mentioned are all real, the events that take place within them are fictional.

  The Isle of Man is, of course, a real place. A UK crown dependency, this wonderful island was my home for over ten years, and I hope to return there one day.

  All of my contact details are available in the back of the book. I have a fun Facebook page (Diana Xarissa), a monthly newsletter, and I can also be reached by snail mail. I really would love to hear from you!

  1

  What exciting things are you doing this week?” Shelly Quirk asked her friend as they strolled together down the Douglas promenade.

  “I’m seeing Doncan Quayle to talk about Mona’s estate,” Fenella Woods replied. “I’m not sure that qualifies as exciting, but it’s something that needs doing. I’m not sure why, but I’ve been putting it off.”

  “I hope there’s lots more money than you think,” Shelly said. “Maybe there will be enough that you won’t feel intimidated by Donald Donaldson anymore.”

  Fenella laughed. “I’m pretty sure there’s more money in Mona’s estate than I initially thought, but there isn’t enough money in the world to stop me feeling intimidated by that man.”

  Shelly shook her head. “I don’t really understand why. I know he’s rich and worldly and sophisticated, but you’re smart and beautiful and you aren’t exactly poor. What is it about Donald that worries you?”

  “Everything?” Fenella made the reply a question, which made Shelly laugh.

  “And yet you’re having dinner with him tonight.”

  “Yes, but I think I might tell him I don’t want to see him anymore after tonight,” Fenella said with a sigh. “I just don’t think our relationship is going anywhere.”

  “And then there’s Daniel,” Shelly suggested.

  “Who will be away for the rest of this month and part of next,” Fenella replied sadly.

  “How are things between you and Peter?”

  “Fine, but I think we’re just friends.”

  Shelly shook her head. “Your love life isn’t going very well at the moment, is it?” she asked gently.

  “It’s fine,” Fenella assured her. “I didn’t leave my old life behind because I wanted to find romance on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. I can be perfectly happy on my own.”

  “Of course you can. So can I,” Shelly said firmly.

  “How’s Gordon?” Fenella asked.

  Shelly flushed. “He’s fine.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I still don’t know if we’re just friends, or if we’re moving towards a relationship, or what,” Shelly sighed. “John’s been gone for almost a year, and Gordon and I have been spending time together for a few months now, but I really don’t know where I stand with him.”

  “So ask him.”

  “I can’t. It would be awkward and awful, especially if he does just want to be friends. Besides, I don’t want to ruin our friendship. If that’s all he’s looking for, I’m okay with that, truly I am.”

  “Why not just tell him exactly what you just told me?”

  “It isn’t that easy. I really like him, and if I’m honest, I think I might like to try being more than friends. I’m not ready to sleep with him or anything, but I wouldn’t mind a good night kiss now and again.”

  “You need to talk to the man. He can’t read your mind. He’s probably just taking things very slowly because he knows you were widowed so recently. He wouldn’t be spending as much time with you as he does if he weren’t interested.”

  “Maybe he’s just lonely. He’s been on his own for years. Maybe he’s just enjoying having someone to spend time with, just as friends.”

  Fenella thought about arguing further, but she was interrupted by a cacophony of barking. She turned around.

  “Winston and Fiona, how lovely to see you both,” she told the large and small dogs who were straining at their leashes.

  “They saw you from the opposite end of the promenade and nearly pulled my arm out of its socket trying to get to you,” Harvey Garus said with a laugh.

  Fenella and Shelly both fussed over the dogs as they chatted with the elderly man who lived in the apartment building next door to their own. Fenella had looked after both dogs for a short while in June and she still felt sometimes that her apartment was too quiet without them.

  “And now we must go and see Mr. Stone,” Harvey told them, referring to the local veterinarian. “They’re both having their annual checks.”

  “They both look happy and healthy to me,” Fenella said. “But good luck anyway.”

  She and Shelly watched as the trio walked away from them.

  “Should we turn around and keep going or just walk home?” Shelly asked after a moment.

  “Let’s keep going. I need the exercise,” Fenella replied. “I’ve put on five pounds since I moved here and I’m sure I’ll put on more if I don’t start being more careful.”

  “Five pounds doesn’t seem very much. You’ve been here for over six months. That’s less than a pound a month.”

  “That’s why I want to get it off now, before it takes up permanent residence. I’d hate to find that Mona’s clothes stop fitting.”

  Fenella had moved to the Isle of Man in March when she’d learned that she’d inherited her Aunt Mona’s estate. The gorgeous apartment that she now owned had also come with a wardrobe full of her aunt’s fabulous clothes. So far, everything Fenella had tried from the collection had fitted her perfectly.

  “That would be awful,” Shelly agreed. “I still can’t believe the three dresses you’ve given me from her collection actually fit me. Mona and I were rather different sizes.”

  “I’m just glad you found a few things that you liked in the wardrobe. There’s far too much in there for me to ever wear. I’m st
arting to think that Mona never wore the same outfit twice.”

  Shelly looked thoughtful for a minute. “You may be right. She always looked so fabulous that I rarely noticed exactly what she was wearing, but now that you mention it, I don’t recall ever seeing her in the same outfit twice.”

  “It looks as if it might rain,” Fenella said a moment later as dark clouds began to drift into view.

  “It wasn’t meant to rain today. But what shall we talk about now? We’ve talked too much about Gordon. Let’s talk about the men in your life.”

  Fenella laughed. “We talked about them quite enough earlier,” she said firmly. “I don’t know that any of them actually qualify as men in my life, anyway.”

  “Donald would very much like to be the only man in your life,” Shelly suggested.

  “Well, that isn’t going to happen. Like I said, tonight I’m probably going to tell him that I don’t think we should keep seeing one another.”

  “He isn’t going to take it well. He seems quite attracted to you.”

  “I wish I knew why. I can’t possibly be his type. He must have much younger and much more beautiful women throwing themselves at him all the time. I can’t imagine what he sees in me.”

  “You’re being too modest,” Shelly told her. “Maybe Donald has finally grown tired of spending his time with younger women. Maybe he’s finally looking for a proper adult with brains as well as beauty.”

  “Maybe, or maybe he’s just playing with me because he’s bored.”

  “Also a possibility,” Shelly admitted. “But with Daniel away, you may as well have some fun with Donald, anyway. Donald does take you to the nicest places.”

  “Yes, but, well, he simply isn’t right for me,” Fenella sighed. “Or maybe I’m just missing Daniel and remembering him as far more perfect than he actually is.”

  “Oh, he isn’t perfect,” Shelly laughed. “But he is gorgeous. He’s divorced, though, so there must be some things about him that aren’t so good.”

  “I think his job may have been a large factor in his divorce.”

  “It isn’t easy being married to a police inspector, I’m sure.”

  Fenella nodded. “It isn’t easy just dating one, especially when he gets sent away on a course for months on end.”

  “Are you staying in touch?”

  “I get the odd text, but I feel strange about texting him.”

  “Maybe he feels the same way. Maybe he’d like to text you every day but he feels weird about it. What you need now is to get caught up in another murder investigation. He’d be in touch quickly if that happened.”

  “Don’t even joke about that,” Fenella said. “The last thing I want to do is get caught up in any more murder investigations. Or any police investigations of any kind, for that matter.”

  Since Fenella had been on the island, she’d found more than her fair share of dead bodies and been tangled up in other cases as well. She didn’t want to talk to Daniel badly enough to want to go through all of that again.

  “I suppose you’re right. Murder investigations are never pleasant.”

  “No, they aren’t. But at least every time I’ve been mixed up in one, the case has been solved. I was watching a show about unsolved mysteries on television last night. That would be worse. The show gave me nightmares.”

  “You shouldn’t watch telly late at night,” Shelly suggested.

  “Yeah, I know, but I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m just worried about tonight, I think,” Fenella sighed. “Donald has been very patient with me, but I’m not ready to sleep with him. It will be easier to simply stop seeing him.”

  “Should we talk about what’s really bothering you?”

  Fenella frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

  “When is your driving test?”

  “Monday,” Fenella said softly. She’d been doing everything she could to forget that little fact. She’d driven in the US for over thirty years without a single accident or even so much as a parking ticket, but she’d had great trouble with driving on the island. Having never driven a stick shift before, learning that had been a difficult challenge. It hadn’t helped that she’d felt as if she were on the wrong side of the car on the wrong side of the road for the first few months of lessons.

  “Mel wouldn’t tell you take the test if he didn’t think you were ready,” Shelly said encouragingly.

  “Maybe he’s just tired of trying to teach me. Maybe he reckons that if I fail, I’ll give up.”

  “Will you?”

  “I’d be tempted to, that’s for sure.”

  “But then you’d never be able to drive Mona’s car.”

  Fenella sighed. Mona had left behind a gorgeous little red sports car. It was totally unlike anything Fenella had ever driven before, and she was surprised how badly she wanted to zip all over the island in it. “It’s the middle of August and it still isn’t warm enough to drive it with the top down,” she told Shelly after a moment.

  “Mona drove with the top down whenever it wasn’t raining. She never minded the temperature.”

  That news didn’t surprise Fenella. She’d learned a lot about her aunt since she’d been on the island. Mona had been glamorous, gorgeous, and irresistible to men. The car was part of her image, along with the designer clothes and expensive apartment.

  “First I have to pass the test, then maybe I’ll have a go at driving Mona’s car. Mel thinks I should take the test twice, anyway, and simply think of this first attempt as a practice run.”

  “That’s probably a good idea. If you assume you’re going to fail, you can relax more, right?”

  “In theory, but maybe not in practice,” Fenella muttered.

  Shelly leaned over and put an arm around Fenella’s shoulders. She squeezed briefly before dropping her arm. “It isn’t that bad, really. You’ll be fine. You can always just get an automatic license, anyway. That would be easier.”

  “I know, but then I wouldn’t be able to drive Mona’s car.” Drivers in the UK and the island could take their driving tests in cars with either a manual or automatic transmission. If you passed in an automatic car, though, you were only licensed to drive cars with automatic transmissions. Of course, Mona’s sexy red car had a manual transmission.

  “We’d just have to go car shopping, then.”

  “And I’d end up with something practical and boring, because I always do.”

  “Not if you took me with you. I’d talk you into something cute or sporty or whatever you wanted.”

  “What I want is something practical, really, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love Mona’s car,” Fenella sighed. “I’ll probably drive it once or twice and then trade it in for something larger with more seats and more trunk space. But it would be nice, just for a few hours, to feel like the sort of woman who would own a totally impractical car.”

  “You already own it,” Shelly pointed out.

  “Yeah, but it isn’t doing me any good parked in the garage under our building.”

  “You could always have Mel give you a lesson or two in it, if you really want to drive it but don’t feel ready to take your test.”

  Fenella nodded, even though she didn’t agree. There was no way she could explain to Shelly how she felt about Mona’s car. There was also no way she wanted her first time behind its wheel to be with a driving instructor in the passenger seat. Mona’s car represented a completely different lifestyle to what Fenella had left behind in Buffalo, New York. While she was still settling into her new life on the island, Fenella was pretty sure she was still just as boring and unadventurous as she’d always been. Mona’s car was the exact opposite of boring.

  They were nearly back at their apartment building. A huge truck was parked in front of the building.

  “Right-Start Movers,” Shelly read off the back of the truck. “I’ve never heard of them. They must be from across.”

  Island residents referred to the UK as “acros
s,” a term that Fenella had already started using herself. “Whoever it is, they seem to have a lot of stuff.”

  “Yes, and they aren’t meant to be parked there, either. Residents and moving companies are meant to use the back entrance for moving in and out of the building.”

  As she and Shelly crossed the road, Fenella glanced curiously into the truck through the large open door. Neatly stacked boxes lined the walls, and furniture, all of it carefully wrapped in blankets, filled every available inch of the space. Two men were standing near the door. They were both busy on their mobile phones.

  “You know you aren’t meant to park that here,” Shelly said to one of them. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I just wanted to warn you.”

  “Yeah, we’ve been warned six times now,” one of the men snarled at her. “Not our problem. We turned up where we were told to be. We can move if we have to, but it’ll cost more.”

  Shelly shrugged. “Good luck.”

  “Gentlemen, I’m afraid we do have a problem,” a cultured voice said.

  Fenella and Shelly watched as a tall grey-haired man stepped off the curb toward the men. At first glance he appeared to be around forty, but as he got closer to Fenella, she added first ten and then twenty years to her earlier estimate. The unnatural smoothness of his face suggested that he’d had some sort of work done, but his hair was completely grey, which seemed at odds with altered face somehow. Fenella had always purchased suits for her former boyfriend, so she knew quality when she saw it. The dark grey suit the man was wearing had been tailor-made for him, and Fenella suspected that even Donald Donaldson would have agreed that the fabric and workmanship were excellent.