“I was just leaving the old Grantham place when the noise started.” Jake’s voice sounded slightly muffled to Bessie from where she sat.
“What were you doing up there?” Matthew asked.
“The police got some tip about something going on up there and they needed us to clear out some of the mess,” Jake said.
“What sort of tip?” Matthew snapped.
“No idea. Someone at the station rang the office and asked if we could put a crew together to clear some overgrown land, and we were happy to get the work,” Jake replied. “Not much business for gardeners this time of year, you know.”
“Who was there from the police?” was Matthew’s next question.
“The surname was Rockwell,” Jake answered. “I think he was an inspector.”
“Not Hugh Watterson?”
“No. I know Hugh. He wasn’t there, why?”
“He’s digging around into, oh, never mind. If he wasn’t there, it must be something else going on.”
“We found some bones,” Jake said.
Bessie heard a sharp intake of breath from Matthew. “Nothing to do with me,” he muttered after a moment.
“I didn’t think it was,” Jake laughed. His laughter faltered after a moment. “What’s this all about, then?” he asked Matthew.
“You’ve damaged your grunkle sprocket,” Matthew replied. Or at least that’s what it sounded like to Bessie. She listened intently as the two men discussed car parts for several minutes, understanding none of it.
“You should be okay now,” Matthew said eventually. “If it gives you any more trouble, bring her back and we’ll change out the whole thing.”
“It may be time for a new truck,” Jake replied. “This one is starting to fall apart.”
“She still has some good years in her. Just treat her right and she’ll keep you going.”
“We’ll see,” Jake said. The bonnet slammed down, making Bessie jump. Her eyes met Matthew’s and she forced herself to smile.
“Didn’t know you’d added Aunt Bessie to your crew,” Matthew said to Jake.
“I was just giving her a ride home,” Jake explained.
“So she was out at the Grantham place?” Matthew demanded. He took a few steps and then opened Bessie’s door. “What’s going on out at the Grantham place?” he asked harshly.
“I was asked to point out where the old rose garden was,” Bessie said. “Beyond that, you’d have to ask the police.”
“Old rose garden?” Matthew frowned. “I understand you asked my wife a lot of questions this afternoon. Stay away from her.”
“Now, Matthew, that’s no way to talk to Bessie,” Jake said.
“She’s a meddling old woman. She ought to know better than to meddle in my affairs, though.”
“I’d better get you home,” Jake said to Bessie. “It’s getting late. My wife will be worrying soon.”
“Yeah, your wife’s always looking for evidence that you’re cheating,” Matthew muttered. “If only she knew where to look.”
Jake flushed and climbed into the car. “Thanks for sorting me out,” he said to Matthew. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Matthew replied. He turned and walked back into the dilapidated garage as Jake turned the truck around and pulled away.
“Sorry about that,” he muttered to Bessie. “Matthew’s a bit, um, difficult sometimes.”
“But he repaired the truck quickly,” Bessie said, focussing on the positive.
“Oh, he loves motors and mechanical parts. He gets along with them better than people, but if you know Joanna, you already know that.”
“I don’t really know her,” Bessie replied. “I just had lunch at the pub today.”
A few minutes later Jake pulled up next to Bessie’s cottage. “I won’t come in after all,” he said. “My wife really does worry if I’m late home.”
“You must come another time, then,” Bessie told him. “My door is always open.”
“Thanks, Aunt Bessie,” the man grinned. “I may just surprise you and take you up on that.”
Bessie let herself into the cottage and sank down in the nearest chair. It had been a strange and stressful afternoon. Alone with her thoughts, she couldn’t help but wonder what John was finding in the rose garden. Matthew had seemed upset, but to her mind he didn’t act guilty. She’d have expected him to be a lot more nervous if he’d been responsible for the bones John had found.
Her phone rang, startling her.
“Bessie? It’s Mary Quayle. I’ve spoken to Grace’s parents and a few other people and now I think we need a travel agent. I’m not sure how we’ll manage otherwise.”
“I thought the same thing,” Bessie replied. “I just hadn’t managed to ring you yet to discuss it.”
“What if we go into Douglas tomorrow? I’d rather use the company I always use, if that’s okay with you.”
“That’s fine,” Bessie assured her. “Do you want me to meet you in Douglas?”
“Oh, goodness, no,” Mary said. “I’ll collect you at half nine. We can be there when they open. Hopefully, it will be fairly quiet.”
“I’ll see you then,” Bessie replied.
After a light dinner, Bessie curled up with a book, but found she had trouble focussing. Her thoughts kept returning to the overgrown rose garden behind the derelict property she remembered so well. Eventually, she took herself off to bed early and slept restlessly.
Chapter Eight
A long hot shower followed by a longer than normal walk on the beach the next morning helped Bessie wake up. She was pacing around the kitchen, sipping a cup of tea, when Mary arrived.
“Hello, Bessie,” Mary greeted her when Bessie reached the car. “I’m so excited to be doing this for Hugh and Grace.”
“Yes, I am, as well,” Bessie replied.
“You sound distracted,” Mary told her.
Bessie sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ve read about the cold case that Hugh’s investigating. I suspect there might be a significant development in the case today.”
“But you can’t tell me what going on,” Mary said.
“I really shouldn’t,” Bessie replied.
“So let’s talk about Paris,” Mary suggested.
As they drove, Mary told Bessie about the various things that she’d already managed to arrange, while Bessie tried hard to pay attention. What she really wanted to do was ring John for an update, but she knew that John would tell her what he could as soon as he was able. The pair arrived in Douglas just before ten o’clock. Mary found a parking space in the large multi-storey car park and then they made their way down the street.
“They’ve always done an excellent job arranging holidays for me,” Mary told Bessie as they walked to the travel agency. “I’m sure they’ll be perfect for our needs.”
“No doubt,” Bessie replied. It had been years since Bessie had taken a holiday, aside from a brief trip across with Doona that hadn’t been very relaxing. Maybe she should consider taking a trip herself.
Bessie recognised the woman who was just turning the “closed” sign to “open” as she and Mary reached the door. Kristen Kelly looked no older than thirty, with her blonde hair in a high ponytail, wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. She smiled brightly at Mary and Bessie as they pushed the door open.
“Good morning, ladies,” she said. “We’re having a special on winter sun destinations. Can I send you somewhere warm and tropical?”
Mary laughed and shook her head. “We need to talk to you about Paris,” she said.
“Paris is the perfect getaway,” the woman replied. “Close to home, but a world away.”
Bessie bit back a sigh. There was no way she was going to be able to talk about the cold case if Kristen kept talking in advertising speak.
Mary didn’t seem to mind, though. She followed Kristen to one of the desks and as soon as Bessie joined them, launched into an explanation of what they were trying to do. Kristen nodded and took
notes as Mary spoke and then began typing things into her computer. Within minutes she was printing out a sample itinerary.
“We can adjust anything and everything,” the woman said. “But let’s start from here.”
Ninety minutes later, after changing at least half of the items on the list, Mary was finally happy with Hugh’s honeymoon. Bessie had made a few suggestions, but she left Mary in charge, as the other woman knew Paris well. The final price was something of a shock to Bessie, but Mary didn’t bat an eyelash.
“I’ll pay for the whole thing now,” Mary told Kristen, handing her a credit card.
“I’m paying for the flights,” Bessie reminded her.
“I can put the charges through separately,” Kristen offered.
Bessie pulled out her own credit card and within minutes, Hugh’s honeymoon was booked and paid for.
“I hope we’re doing the right thing,” Bessie muttered as she put the receipt into her bag.
“If he doesn’t want to go, you can send me instead,” Kristen offered. “I think I’m going to need to get away for a while.”
“I hope nothing is seriously wrong,” Bessie replied.
Kristen shrugged. “You probably know what’s going on better than I do,” she said. “My father rang me last night. Apparently the police rang to warn him and mum that they’d uncovered some bodies. It’s just possible one of them is Karen’s.”
“I’m sorry,” Bessie said.
“I suppose it will be good to finally have some answers,” Kristen said. “If they’re right. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Every time a body turns up anywhere, my parents wonder and worry and hope and pray. It will be hard for them, if it does turn out to be her after all this time.”
“I was reading about the case in the local paper,” Mary said. “I didn’t realise they’d found bodies.”
“Just last night,” Kristen told her. “I don’t know what they actually found, just that they warned my parents that they’ll probably want DNA samples to try to match with the skeletons or whatever.”
“How awful,” Mary said, shivering. “And one of the missing girls was your sister?”
“Yeah, Karen was my sister, and if she isn’t dead, I’ll never forgive her for leaving,” Kristen said. Bessie thought she was trying to sound as if she were joking, but her words fell flat.
“I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you,” Mary said sympathetically.
“I was only six when she disappeared,” Kristen said. “I don’t really even remember her, but I definitely remember what happened after she’d gone.”
“Six? That’s very young,” Mary murmured.
“Yeah, I suppose. Karen was fifteen and she’d already earned herself a reputation for being a troublemaker. Once she’d gone, my parents decided that none of the rest of us was ever going to get into any trouble, ever. My mother basically never let me out of her sight again.” Kristen sighed.
“Your poor mother,” Mary said.
“Yes, I suppose so, but as I got older, I didn’t see it that way,” Kristen told her. “I couldn’t wait to finish school and move out of the house. When I think back now, I feel terrible about it, really, but my parents, whether they meant to or not, really smothered all of us. We all moved out as soon as we could and everyone else moved across. I’m the only one still on the island.”
“It’s such a beautiful place,” Mary pointed out.
“Yes, and I do love it here,” Kristen said. “But that also means I’m the one who has to try to deal with my parents when things like this happen. It was bad enough that they reopened the case in the first place. If they really have found Karen’s body, well, my brother and sisters are going to have to come back and help me. I’m not dealing with my parents on my own if that happens.”
“It will be a huge shock for them,” Mary suggested.
“Yeah, and they’ll blame themselves for not being stricter with her, which is exactly what I heard all through my childhood. ‘Your sister was allowed to come and go as she pleased and then she ran away. You aren’t going anywhere, young lady,’” Kristen said.
“What do you think happened to her?” Bessie asked.
“I always thought she’d found herself in trouble and ran away to take care of it,” Kristen replied. “That was the story that always seemed to make the most sense to me, as I was growing up, anyway. And it was the one my mother always threw at me whenever I wanted to go out with a boy.”
“Maybe that is what happened,” Mary said. “Maybe what they’ve found doesn’t have anything to do with your sister.”
“I don’t know,” Kristen said. “I can’t imagine anyone killing her, that’s for sure. She was just a harmless fifteen-year-old girl. Why would anyone want to hurt her? Of course, I can’t see why anyone would have done anything to Susan or Helen, either.”
“Maybe the three disappearances aren’t actually related,” Mary said.
Kristen shook her head. “I’m sorry. You came in to book a holiday for your friend, not to listen to me complain about my childhood. Was there anything else today?”
Mary smiled and patted the woman’s hand. “You have a lot going on in your life right now,” she said. “It’s only natural that you’d want to talk about it. Bessie and I are always happy to listen.”
“Thank you,” Kristen said.
As Bessie and Mary stood up to go, the door to the shop swung open. Kristen made a noise and then spoke quickly.
“Please, sit back down and pretend I’m looking for something for you,” she whispered to Mary.
Bessie sank back into her seat and watched as Jonas and Tara Clucas made their way into the shop. She hadn’t seen the couple in several years, but they were instantly recognisable. Tara was still stunningly beautiful and her husband still looked arrogant and unpleasant.
“We need a holiday,” Tara said hesitantly, looking around the room.
There were three women standing behind the main reception desk and they all exchanged glances before one of them took a step forward, seemingly reluctantly.
“Certainly, we’ll be happy to help you with that,” she said in a saccharine-sweet voice.
“You’d better do a better job this time,” Jonas snapped. “The mistakes that you made last time were almost unforgivable.”
“I’m sure we can get things exactly right this time,” the woman behind the desk said through gritted teeth. “Where did you want to go?”
Tara glanced at her husband and then back at the woman. “We were thinking about South America, for something completely different.”
“South America?” the woman echoed. “I’ll have to turn you over to Betty, then. She’s our expert on that part of the world.”
Bessie could tell which woman was Betty simply from the angry expression that flashed over her face as her coworker was speaking. She had a fake smile in place only a moment later, though, as she stepped forward.
“South America is a big place,” she said. “And it’s all gorgeous. Come and sit down and let’s see what we can work out.”
“We don’t have time,” Jonas barked. “We want to leave tomorrow. Book the whole thing for us and we’ll be back to pay for it after lunch.”
He spun on his heel and stomped out of the building, leaving his wife to mouth a quick “sorry” before she followed.
“I’m not doing it,” Betty said loudly. “I’m not booking them a holiday without any instructions whatsoever. The last time we worked with them, we ended up having to refund most of the trip because they complained about everything. We are not going through that again.”
“Ring Jennifer and ask her what she wants you to do,” Kristen suggested. “It’s her business. She can decide.”
Betty nodded and picked up the phone. While Bessie wanted to stay to hear what Jennifer had to say, Mary was back on her feet.
“We’ll just get out of the way,” she told Kristen. “Thank you for all of your help.”
“Y
ou’re welcome,” Kristen replied. “Thanks for bringing us your business.”
Out on the street, Mary turned to Bessie and grinned. “I was a bit carried away in there, asking that poor girl all those questions. This playing detective is quite exciting in its own way.”
“Yes, but Inspector Rockwell will be cross if he finds out,” Bessie warned her.
“Does that mean you don’t want to have lunch where I’m sure Tara and Jonas Clucas are having lunch?” Mary asked, winking at Bessie.
Bessie chuckled. “We have to eat somewhere,” she pointed out.
“Exactly, and I might be wrong, anyway,” Mary replied.
But she wasn’t wrong. Bessie could tell that from the tension in the room, before she even saw the couple at the corner table. Mary had a quiet word with the woman at the door and the pair was led to a table right behind Tara and Jonas.
“Thank you,” Mary said quietly to the woman.
“Thank you,” she replied in a whisper. “No one else wants to sit near those two. They’ve done nothing but shout at us and each other since they arrived.”
“And our second round of drinks is where, exactly?” Jonas demanded, glancing around the space.
“I’ll check on that, sir,” the woman who’d seated Bessie and Mary said. She disappeared towards the bar as Bessie opened her menu.
“I think I’ll have the fish,” Tara said softly.
“Have the chicken,” Jonas told her. “I don’t like the smell of fish when I’m eating. You know that.”
“Yes, dear,” Tara said. “I just thought, since it’s breaded, that it wouldn’t smell very strongly, that’s all.”
“No fish,” Jonas replied. “I’m not sure South America is such a good idea. I bet they eat a lot of fish there.”
Tara shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been. Where would you rather go?”
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” Jonas said. “You’re the one who’s been complaining about needing a holiday. Like I want to spend a week with the children you insisted on having.” The man sighed and shook his head. “Maybe you should take the children and go somewhere and I’ll stay here and manage the business.”
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