“Is that all?” Daniel asked.
“Again, I’m terribly sorry,” the man said to Fenella and Shelly. “I never meant to hurt anyone.”
Daniel nodded at the uniformed constable and the man escorted Dr. Yates out of the room.
“Are you two okay?” Daniel asked as he dropped into the chair that the doctor had just vacated.
“I’m fine, but I don’t believe a word he said,” Shelly replied. “I think Bernice had something to do with both deaths.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Daniel told her. “She told me as much when I arrived at the surgery the afternoon you went missing.”
“Why were you there?” Fenella asked.
“Mostly, I wanted to find you,” he replied. “After we spoke, I went into the office for a while, but I was too tired to concentrate properly. I kept nodding off, but what you’d said about doctors and drugs in the people’s systems kept running through my head. Eventually I found the medical reports on Harvey, Mortimer and Leonora and compared them. They all had the same unidentifiable drug in their systems when the tests were run.”
“Presumably the same thing Dr. Yates gave us,” Fenella said.
“Exactly the same,” Daniel agreed. “Which made me eager to talk to Dr. Yates and to find you two. When I arrived at the Lonan surgery, there was no sign of Shelly’s car, but Dr. Yates’s car was in the car park.”
“Where was Shelly’s car?” Fenella asked.
“In the garage around the back of the building,” Daniel told her. “Dr. Yates hid it there after he put you two in the basement. Your handbags and mobile phones were in the boot.”
“How did you find us?” Shelly wanted to know.
“You can thank Bernice for that,” Daniel replied. “She said a bunch of things she shouldn’t have, including emphasizing over and over again how she hadn’t seen you two in days and that you couldn’t possibly be locked in the basement.”
Shelly chuckled. “Poor Dr. Yates. He must have been going crazy trying to shut her up.”
“He was, rather, but she didn’t seem to be able to stop talking. She told me how she’d taken Mortimer’s tablets away from him to stop him being so difficult and how she’d grown tired of Leonora and pushed her off the cliff,” Daniel said.
Fenella winced. “Oh, dear. How awful.”
“We don’t know how much is true, of course, but she’ll be getting care at the best treatment facility available going forward,” Daniel said. “Her husband will be going to prison.”
Daniel took them home and walked Fenella to her door. “I’ll be leaving in the morning for my course,” he said as she dug around in her bag for her key. “Please try to stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”
Fenella laughed. “I always try to stay out of trouble,” she replied. “But it keeps finding me.”
“Take care of yourself,” he told her. The look on his face suggested that he wanted to say more, but after a moment, he simply shook his head and turned and walked away.
“You, too,” Fenella called after him.
When he got onto the elevator, he turned around and smiled at her. As the doors shut, he gave her a small wave.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my wonderful editor, my fabulous cover designer (Linda Boulanger at Tell-Tale Book Covers), and my beta readers. I really appreciate everything you all do to make my books better.
Special thanks to my readers who come along on this journey with me!
Encounters and Enemies
An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy
Text Copyright © 2017 Diana Xarissa
Cover Copyright © 2017 Linda Boulanger – Tell Tale Book Covers
All Rights Reserved
Created with Vellum
For Johnny, because he hasn’t had a book dedicated to him yet.
Author’s Note
Welcome to book five in the Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Series. I hope everyone is enjoying spending time with Fenella, Mona, and their friends.
Because Fenella grew up in the US, this book is mostly written in American English. The setting is, however, the stunningly beautiful Isle of Man, a UK crown dependency in the Irish Sea.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The shops, restaurants, and businesses in this story are also fictional. The historical sites and other landmarks on the island are all real; however, the events that take place within them in this story are fictional.
My contact details are available in the back of the book. I love hearing from readers, so please don’t hesitate to get in touch.
1
“You look wonderful, “ Shelly said with a sigh as Fenella turned around slowly in front of her. “That’s the most gorgeous dress I think I’ve ever seen.”
“It is nice,” Fenella agreed, checking her appearance in the full-length mirror on the bedroom wall. “And it fits perfectly.”
“Everything in Mona’s wardrobe seems to fit you perfectly,” Shelly said. “I wish I had a wardrobe full of incredible dresses and gowns that all fit me as if they were made for me.”
“You should go through Mona’s things,” Fenella suggested. “I’m sure some of them would work for you.”
Shelly shook her head. “You’ve already given me one dress from Mona’s wardrobe. I can’t possibly take anything else.”
Fenella didn’t bother to argue. She’d have plenty of opportunities in the future to offer her deceased aunt’s clothes to her closest friend. She didn’t need to push the issue today. Not while she was trying to work out what to wear for an important evening out.
“That’s the one,” Shelly said firmly. “Don’t even bother trying on anything else.”
“You don’t think it’s too revealing?” Fenella asked, blushing slightly at the low-cut neckline.
“Not at all,” Shelly replied.
“Donald will love it,” Mona said from her seat on Fenella’s bed.
Fenella looked over at her aunt and frowned. “I don’t want to give Donald the wrong idea,” she said hesitantly.
“Oh, he already has the wrong idea,” Mona laughed.
“I’m sure it’s too late for that.” Shelly’s reply repeated Mona’s sentiment. “But, honestly, can you imagine finding anything else that looks that good?”
Fenella looked in the mirror again. She did look much more fabulous than normal in the stunning black gown. “I suppose not,” she admitted.
“So that’s the matter settled,” Shelly said. “And I know you have plenty of shoes that will match. Do you want me to stay and help with your hair and makeup?”
“I’ll be fine,” Fenella replied. She’d been doing her own hair and makeup for all of her adult life. Now in her late forties, she couldn’t imagine how her friend could do anything more than get in the way.
“Maybe I’ll pop home, then,” Shelly said. “Gordon is coming over later and I really should run the vacuum. Smokey’s fur seems to get everywhere.”
“Meeroww,” the large grey cat complained. She was stretched out on the floor near the door while Katie, Fenella’s kitten, bounced around the room.
“Never mind, you know I love you anyway,” Shelly told the cat as she got up from the desk chair in the corner of the room. “Let’s go home and get ready for our visitor, shall we?”
“Things seem to be going well between you and Gordon,” Fenella remarked as she followed Shelly and Smokey to the door.
“They are,” Shelly agreed. “Which is worrying in its own way.”
Fenella chuckled, but she knew exactly what the woman meant. Shelly had been widowed less than a year earlier and Fenella knew that getting involved with another man hadn’t been in Shelly’s plans. Gordon Davison was an old friend, though, and the couple were slowly working their way toward something that might have been a romance but was maybe just friendship. At least that was how Shelly always described it.
/> At the door, Shelly stopped and turned to give Fenella a hug. “I’ll only squeeze gently so I don’t wrinkle your dress,” she said. “Have a wonderful time tonight.”
“You, too,” Fenella told her. She smiled as she watched the woman walk back to her own apartment, right next door.
Although they’d only known each other for a matter of months, Fenella felt closer to Shelly than she had to any friend in a very long time. Shelly was over ten years older, but the age gap was insignificant to both women. When her husband had passed away unexpectedly, Shelly had taken early retirement from her years as a teacher. She’d sold the home she and her husband had shared and bought the apartment next door to Fenella’s aunt.
Shelly insisted that Mona had been instrumental in helping her deal with her loss, dragging her out and insisting that she start embracing life. As far as Fenella could work out, Shelly’s idea of embracing life seemed mostly to consist of dying her hair red, talking to absolutely everyone, and wearing incredibly bright colors at all times. Whatever Shelly had been like before her husband died, Fenella thought she was wonderful the way she was now.
“It is the perfect dress,” Mona told Fenella as she walked back into the bedroom. “It’s very flattering on you.”
Fenella looked in the mirror again. Mona was right, of course. She usually was, which was slightly annoying. It was possible that Mona was the ghost of Fenella’s recently departed aunt, which was the explanation for her presence that Fenella preferred. Seemingly equally possible was that the woman was a figment of Fenella’s imagination. If that was the case, Mona’s tendency to always be right felt wrong somehow.
“I’m nervous about tonight,” Fenella said.
“Why? You’re going to a party with a wonderful man who will treat you like a princess,” Mona replied. “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”
“Donald makes me nervous,” Fenella admitted.
“The right dress, shoes, hair, and makeup will help build your self-confidence,” Mona told her. “Besides, you’ve nothing to worry about with Donald. He’s nothing special, you know.”
“He’s very rich,” Fenella countered. “And far more sophisticated than I am.”
“You could learn to be sophisticated if you wanted to bother. I don’t recommend it. It’s much more fun to be naughty and a little scandalous.”
“You should know,” Fenella said dryly. When she’d found out that she’d inherited her aunt’s entire estate, Fenella had nothing but vague memories of the woman who had lived on the Isle of Man for her entire life. Mona had visited her sister, Fenella’s mother, in the US on occasion, but it had been over thirty years since Fenella had seen the woman.
When she’d arrived on the island, Fenella had been surprised to learn that Mona had amassed a small fortune, but no one was exactly certain where her money had come from. Rumors about the woman and various wealthy men were often whispered to her, but Fenella had been unable to substantiate any of them, and she didn’t really want to try.
Mona laughed. “I’ve told you many times that you shouldn’t believe most of the stories about me,” she said. “Nearly all of the people who had firsthand knowledge of my affairs have long since passed. What’s left are a number of people who like to tell stories, often with embroidery to make the stories more interesting.”
“Do you have a boyfriend in the afterlife?” Fenella changed the subject.
“Let’s not worry about me, not tonight,” Mona said. “We have to get you ready for your evening with Donald. Now, you’re going to the Seaview in Ramsey, aren’t you?”
“Yes, that’s what Donald said,” Fenella agreed.
“It’s lovely there, although it is getting a bit tired. I wonder if Jasper and Stuart have any plans for remodeling. They’d probably struggle to find the time, I suspect. I imagine they’re booked nearly every weekend all year. It is the best place on the island for a special event.”
“As I understand it, tonight is pretty special.”
Mona shrugged. “Everyone always thinks their parties are special. I’m sure this one will be much like every other charity event that gets held at the Seaview, except that tonight Patricia Anderson will be the one acting as if she’s the most important person in the world.”
“Who’s Patricia Anderson?”
“The woman who has been head of the Manx Fund for Children since it was founded thirty or more years ago,” Mona told her. “She’s a horrid and nasty woman who thinks far too much of herself.”
“What did she do to you?”
“Refused my help,” Mona snapped. “I offered to help with the charity when she first started it, but she assured me that she didn’t need any assistance. Over the years, I offered to assist with various events, but she never allowed me to get involved in any way. Oh, I was welcome to contribute generously to them, but only if I did so anonymously.”
“Why?” Fenella had to ask.
Mona smirked. “She thought I was sleeping with her husband,” she replied with a shrug.
“Were you?”
“Was I what?” Mona asked after a long pause. “Sorry, I lost track of the conversation.”
“Were you sleeping with Patricia Anderson’s husband?” Fenella asked flatly.
“No,” Mona replied. “But it suited him to have her and others think so, and I didn’t object.”
“Why?”
“Why didn’t I object? Because I simply didn’t care. Oh, I would have liked a chance to do some sort of charitable volunteer work, and Patricia made sure I was shunned by nearly everyone, but beyond that it simply didn’t matter.”
“Why did he want people to think he was sleeping with you?”
Mona smiled smugly. “Let’s just say it would have given him a certain cachet in some circles.”
Fenella stared at her aunt. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” she said after a moment.
“I’m sure you don’t,” Mona laughed. “But let’s not worry about that. What shoes are you going to wear?”
Fenella pulled open the wardrobe and dug out a pair of black shoes with low heels. “These are comfortable,” she said.
“And geriatric,” Mona replied. “Those must be yours. I certainly didn’t own anything that unattractive.”
“They are mine, and if I wear them my feet won’t hurt by the end of the evening.”
“If you wear the black shoes that are third from the left in the first row of shoes, your feet won’t hurt either. I had them made for me, and I believe you’ll find that they’re unbelievably comfortable.”
Fenella eyed the strappy stilettoes warily. It took her a minute to work out exactly how the straps were meant to crisscross, but once she’d fastened the necessary buckles, she stood up hesitantly. After a few cautious steps, she turned to look at Mona. “I hardly feel like I’m wearing heels,” she said. “They’re practically magic, these shoes.”
“I told you you’d like them,” Mona replied.
A loud ringing noise cut through the conversation.
“Hello?”
“Maggie? Is that you?”
Fenella swallowed a sigh. “What do you want, Jack?” she demanded. When she’d inherited Mona’s fortune, Fenella had sold her house, quit her job as a university professor, cut her ties, and moved to the Isle of Man. Leaving Jack Dawson, her boyfriend of over ten years, behind had been one of her easier decisions. In the US, she’d gone by Margaret, her middle name, as that was easier for people to spell and pronounce. Jack was the only person who called her Maggie, and she’d never liked it.
“It’s July,” Jack said.
“Yes, it is. Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“You moved over there in March,” Jack replied.
“Very good. You were paying attention,” Fenella snapped.
Jack sighed. “Don’t you think you’ve had quite enough time to come to your senses?” he demanded. “I think it’s high time you moved back to Buffalo. You can move in with me. You don’t
even have to find your own house this time.”
Having her own house was probably one of the factors that had allowed her to stay with Jack for so many years. That she’d never once considered moving in with the man, not even in their earlier and happier years, should have told her everything she needed to know about the future of the relationship. It had been easier to ignore all of the problems in favor of having someone in her life, but now that she’d broken free, she knew there was no going back. Convincing Jack of that was proving more difficult.
“I’m not coming back,” she said.
“I thought you’d say that. And I know why you’re saying it. You’re lonely and unhappy, but you don’t want to admit that you made a terrible mistake. I understand, and I’m here to help.”
“I’m not lonely or unhappy.”
“Here’s my plan,” Jack said, ignoring her reply. “I’ll tell everyone that I’m dying, and then you can come back to nurse me through my final days. Once you’re back, I’ll stage a miraculous recovery and we can live happily ever after.”
“I’m not coming back.”
“Not even if I’m really dying?”
“Are you really dying?”
“Well, no, well, yes, I mean, of course, we’re all dying, aren’t we? That’s why it wouldn’t be a total lie, just an exaggeration. It’s the perfect plan, isn’t it?”
“It would be a good plan,” Fenella admitted grudgingly, “if I wanted to move back to Buffalo. But I don’t want to move back. I’m happy here. I’ve already built a new life for myself here. There’s nothing in Buffalo for me anymore.”
“What about your brothers?” Jack demanded.
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