Abigail blinked at her and then shook her head. “No one had any reason to kill Mark,” she said. “He must have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time or something.”
“Maybe he knew something about Alan’s murder,” Fenella suggested.
Abigail shrugged. “I’m not sure we’ll ever know what happened to Mark or Alan,” she said. “And maybe it’s better that way.”
“Well, I for one hope the police find the killer soon.”
Abigail looked at her for a moment and then stood up slowly. “Thank you for your time,” she said stiffly. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”
“No, not at all,” Fenella said, feeling that she was sadly telling the truth.
“I’ll be having a private service for Mark,” the woman added as she walked toward the door. “I’ve no intention of feeding half the island or of dealing with a shouting match between Alan’s castoffs. I’m sure you understand that I won’t be inviting you, either. You didn’t know Mark, after all.”
“Of course, you must do what you feel is best,” Fenella said. After the day she’d had, the last thing she wanted to think about was another memorial service.
“I may see you around Douglas,” the woman added. “I’m going to move back into the house that Mark and I shared. At least I think I am. I’m not sure yet. And my advocate tells me that we must wait and see what Mark’s will says, too. It’s all overwhelming.”
Fenella crossed to the door and held it open for Abigail. The woman wandered through it, looking slightly dazed. Fenella shut the door behind her and then leaned against it.
“Overwhelmed, maybe, but not sad,” Mona said as she stood up. “Mandy was more upset than Abigail and she and Alan Collins were divorced.”
“She was very odd,” Fenella said.
“I couldn’t tell if she was really sorry her husband was dead or not,” Mona told her.
“Maybe she’s just in shock.”
“Or maybe she killed Alan Collins because he was a bad influence on her husband and then she killed her husband because he’d cheated on her.”
“But they were getting back together,” Fenella protested.
“You only have her word for that,” Mona pointed out. “Maybe that’s what she’s telling everyone so they don’t think she had any motive.”
“They weren’t very nice men,” Fenella said. “I’d like to think that if I turned up dead the police would have trouble finding anyone who disliked me enough to kill me.”
“Right now, if you were murdered, the police would probably assume that it had something to do with the two murders you’re already involved in.”
“I’m not involved,” Fenella said quickly. “I just happened to stumble across the bodies, that’s all.”
“But the killer might think you know more than you do,” Mona said.
“If I knew anything, I would have told the police. The killer has no reason to kill me.”
“Maybe you don’t know that you know something.”
“In which case, the killer doesn’t have to worry, because I can’t tell the police if I don’t know that I know it.” Fenella threw up her arms. “This is an insane conversation,” she said. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“I’m worried about you,” Mona said. “I was thinking that I might want to move on with my death, but I don’t want to leave you behind in the middle of a murder investigation.”
“If you want to go, you should go,” Fenella said. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she felt a small pang of regret. She would miss Mona if the woman left.
“I can’t go until the murders are solved,” Mona told her.
“Is this another thing about being a ghost that I can’t understand?”
“No, it’s just me being stubborn,” Mona laughed. “I should have said that I won’t go until the murders are solved. I don’t want to leave you on your own under these circumstances.”
“But you can’t do anything to help,” Fenella said. “Or can you?”
Mona shrugged. “Nothing specific, but I can help you work out who did it, you can tell the police and the police can arrest whoever it is. Then I can move on and you can get on with your life.”
“So let’s work out who did it,” Fenella said, feeling torn between wanting the woman to stay and wanting her to leave.
“At the moment, Abigail has gone to the top of my suspect list,” Mona said.
“Maybe I should call the inspector and tell him about my meeting with Abigail,” Fenella said. “It was certainly strange.”
“Yes, do that,” Mona urged.
Fenella dialed the number for the Douglas station and wasn’t surprised to learn that the inspector wasn’t available. “Just ask him to call Fenella Woods when he has a few minutes,” she asked the receptionist.
“He’s not there?” Mona asked as Fenella hung up the phone.
“It’s Sunday night,” Fenella pointed out. “He’s probably at home, curled up with a good book and a glass of wine or something.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when the phone rang.
“It’s Dan Robinson. I was told you were trying to reach me,” the deep voice said.
“Oh, yes, Inspector Robinson. I had a visitor and I thought maybe I should tell you about it,” Fenella replied. She gave him a quick summary of the conversation she’d had with Abigail Potter, doing her best to remember everything they’d discussed.
“Interesting,” the man said. “I haven’t spoken to Mrs. Potter myself. She was interviewed by my colleagues in the south of the island, as that’s where she’s living at the moment.”
“She really seemed to dislike Alan Collins,” Fenella said hesitantly.
“Yes, I got that from what you’ve said,” he replied. “She’s lucky she has an solid alibi for the day of his murder, isn’t she?”
“Oh, does she?”
“While I didn’t speak to her, I did check her alibi myself,” the man said. “There’s no way she killed Alan Collins, or her husband for that matter.”
“I see,” Fenella said after a moment.
“You sound disappointed,” the man said.
“I just want the case solved. It’s really starting to bother me.”
“We’re doing our best,” the man said. “Give us a few more days and I think we’ll have it all wrapped up.”
“Sorry to have bothered you, then,” she said.
“It wasn’t a bother,” he assured her. “I’m always happy to talk to you. Hopefully I’ll see you in the Tale and Tail again soon.”
“That would be nice,” Fenella said. She winced at how lame she thought she sounded.
When she hung up Mona frowned at her. “You aren’t much good at flirting, are you?” she asked.
Fenella sighed. “When I was younger, I used to try, but it never seemed to work. Once I tried winking at a cute guy and his friend came over to see if I was okay. He was an optometrist and he thought I had something in my eye.”
Mona laughed. “Maybe, after the murders are solved, I need to stick around and help you learn to flirt.”
“Or maybe not,” Fenella said. “Anyway, the inspector said he thinks it won’t be long now until they make an arrest.”
“Hm, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mona said. “I was thinking, though, maybe we can help him out.”
“Help him out? How?”
“I had this idea. I think it’s a very clever plan, really.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Plan?” Fenella repeated. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“It’s really very simple,” Mona told her. “And once we know who the murderer is, you can tell the inspector and everyone will be happy.”
“And you can move on,” Fenella said, again feeling mixed emotions about the idea.
“Yes, exactly,” Mona replied.
“So what’s the plan?” Fenella asked.
“You just have to tell all of the suspects that you s
aw them in the alley when you found Mr. Collins’s body. Then we wait and see who comes to kill you.”
Fenella stared at her aunt with her mouth open. After several minutes, she took a shaky breath. “I’m sure there must be something wrong with my hearing,” she said. “You didn’t just say what I thought you said.”
“Now don’t be silly,” Mona replied. “Of course you won’t actually get killed. You needn’t worry about that.”
“Oh, well, I’m glad you have it all worked out,” Fenella snapped. “I’m still not doing it.”
Mona sighed. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” she demanded. “Don’t you want to see the killer behind bars?”
“Of course I do. But the police have everything well in hand. There’s no need for me to set myself up as a target for the killer.”
“Dying isn’t that big a deal,” Mona retorted.
“That’s easy for you to say, you’ve already done it. I’m quite happy starting my new life here. I’m not ready to die.”
“I wasn’t ready to die, either.”
“You were ninety-one. If I were that age, maybe I’d be ready to risk my life to help find a murderer.”
“Don’t you even want to hear the plan?” Mona asked.
“No, I want to go to bed,” Fenella said. She didn’t wait for her aunt to argue before stomping out of the room. She shut the bedroom door and changed into her nightgown. A scratching at the door startled her. She’d nearly forgotten about Katie.
“I’m sorry, dear,” she told the kitten as she pulled the door open. Katie gave her a look that suggested she wasn’t going to forgive Fenella that easily. She swished past her and jumped up onto the bed, turning around several times before settling herself in the exact center of the large space.
“I’ll perch on the edge, no worries,” Fenella told the tiny animal.
Katie’s look suggested that she expected nothing less.
Fenella chuckled and then went into the bathroom to remove her makeup and brush her teeth. Katie seemed to be fast asleep when she came back through. True to her word, Fenella carefully climbed under the covers and settled herself on one edge of the mattress, trying hard not to disturb her pet. She switched off the light and sighed. There was no way she was going to listen to Mona’s crazy plan. The police would find the killer eventually.
Hours later Fenella was running as fast as she could, but it wasn’t fast enough. The killer was right behind her, with a knife in his or her hand. The ground under Fenella’s feet began to crumble, making it harder and harder for her to make any progress. The killer didn’t seem to mind the difficult terrain, but Fenella kept slipping and sliding, and more importantly, slowing down.
She told herself to turn around. It was important that she see who was chasing her, but she was too afraid. If she turned her head, she’d fall down for sure and then the killer would catch her. As she ran, a crack appeared in the ground in front of her. Fenella leapt across the crack as it continued to grow. That should slow the killer down, she thought hopefully. The ground under her feet began to shift upwards and suddenly Fenella found herself sliding backwards, down a slope that hadn’t been there a moment earlier, right into the killer’s hands.
Sitting straight up in bed, Fenella grasped at the empty air around her. “Run,” part of her brain told her. “Wake up,” another part said. Fenella’s eyes popped open and she gasped for air. When something small and solid jumped onto her, she screamed.
“Mmmmmmmmmmeeeeeooooooowwwwww,” Katie said loudly.
Fenella gulped for air and then turned on the bedroom light. Katie blinked at her and then rubbed against her hand.
“It was a bad dream,” Fenella told the kitten, as she fell back on her pillow. “I was being chased by a very bad person.”
Katie blinked again and then settled herself on Fenella’s torso. Sighing, Fenella began to pet the kitten, trying to calm her racing heart.
“I don’t know who it was,” she said softly. “It could have been anyone.”
She glanced at the clock. It was four in the morning and far too early for her to get up. Sliding down under the covers, she closed her eyes and told her troubled brain to sleep. The room was too bright with the light on, but when she switched it off it felt far too dark. After several minutes of lying still, staring into the darkness, Fenella angered Katie by getting up and turning on the light in the corridor. When she got back in bed, she decided that that would have to do. Her sleep for the next few hours was restless at best.
As she made coffee the next morning, Fenella tried to think. Mona’s plan was crazy, but after her nightmare she was quite eager to see the killer behind bars. She paced around her kitchen, waiting for the coffee to be ready and waiting for Mona to make an appearance.
Eventually, at least the coffee was ready. As she swallowed the first, precious sip, Fenella started to think about breakfast. Her cupboards were emptier than she’d realized and suddenly getting to the grocery store jumped to the top of her “to do” list. She found a blank piece of paper and began to make a list of everything she needed. Back in Buffalo, she’d always planned meals for the entire week and done one big grocery shopping trip every Sunday morning. Since she’d been on the island, she hadn’t planned a single meal. While part of her was enjoying the freedom, she also missed having a plan in place.
Katie wandered in and nibbled on her breakfast as Fenella was making the list. “And I suppose I need kitten food, too,” Fenella said with a sigh, glancing at Katie.
Katie walked over and wound her way between Fenella’s feet, purring softly.
“Oh, go and eat your breakfast,” Fenella told her. “You don’t have to be extra nice. I’ll feed you anyway.”
After one last rub against Fenella’s leg, Katie strolled away, into the living room. Fenella finished her list and then frowned. She needed to call Mr. Stone’s office and see if he’d heard from anyone about Katie.
“Good morning, this is Bethany, how may I help you?” the voice on the phone asked.
“Good morning. It’s Fenella Woods. I was just calling to see if Mr. Stone has been able to track down the owners of the kitten I brought in. He was going to email everyone on the island and elsewhere.”
“I’ll just have to put you on hold while I check on that,” Bethany said.
The country western song set to a disco beat that was played to her as she waited had Fenella wishing she’d simply sent the man an email. As one song finished and before another began, Mr. Stone’s recorded voice urged her to spay or neuter all of her pets. By the third song, Fenella found herself humming along to a somewhat familiar tune. She was grateful when Bethany interrupted.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Bethany said brightly. “Mr. Stone has heard back from everyone he reached out to and no one that he knows ever treated your kitten. I’m sure you’ve been looking out for signs on lampposts and things. Beyond that, I’m not sure what else you can do, unless you want to take out an ad in the local paper. If you are willing to keep her, my best advice would be to consider yourself a kitten mum.”
Fenella laughed. “I’m just afraid I’ll get too attached and then her owners will turn up,” she explained.
“I would have thought you’d have heard from them by now, if they were looking,” Bethany said.
“I don’t want to keep bothering you, so I won’t call again,” Fenella told her. “Please call me if you hear anything, though.”
“We will do,” Bethany assured her. “And I’ll be ringing you in a few days to remind you about her shots and having her spayed as well. I have the relevant dates in the notes from your first visit.”
“I’ll talk to you then,” Fenella said. She glanced over at Katie, who was curled up on the couch again. “I guess I get to keep you for a little while longer, anyway,” she said. Katie looked up and winked at her.
A few minutes later, Fenella headed out of the building to do some shopping. While it would have been easier to take Mona’s car, she wasn�
��t ready for that challenge yet. Feeling slightly foolish, she walked to the nearest grocery store the long way around. She also still wasn’t ready to walk back through the alley behind the building.
A large display at the front of the store showcased what they called “wheeled shopping trolleys” and Fenella couldn’t resist taking a look. They weren’t exactly fashionable, but a trolley would make her shopping trips much easier. After considering a few plain ones, she decided to be bold and chose a bright purple one with large pink polka dots. If she was going to use the stupid thing, she was going to at least pretend to be happy about it.
The trip around the store didn’t take long, even though she still wasn’t sure where to find things. She’d only planned for a few meals, reasoning that she could shop whenever she wanted to now that she wasn’t working. At the checkout, the girl filled a few bags and Fenella carefully packed everything into her new shopping trolley.
“It’s really bright, anyway,” the girl said, nodding toward the trolley. “You won’t misplace it, will you?”
“I hope not,” Fenella laughed.
She made her way back to her building, happily pushing her trolley and feeling grateful that she didn’t have to carry plastic shopping bags today. As she turned the corner and began to walk down the promenade on the last leg of the journey, she noticed the distinctive markings on the car that was parked at the curb. What was a police car doing at her building?
“I hardly think this is necessary,” Suzy was saying loudly as Fenella entered the building’s lobby area. “I’m quite sure I can answer all of your questions without going down to the station.”
Fenella walked toward the elevators as slowly as she could reasonably walk, not wanting to look as if she was being nosy, but desperate to find out what was happening.
Suzy was standing in the center of the room with a uniformed police constable on either side of her. Her feet were firmly planted and it looked as if the constables were having some trouble persuading her to come with them.
“I’m sorry, but we’ve been asked to bring you down to the station,” one of the young uniformed men said. “We’re just following our orders.”
Arrivals and Arrests Page 20