“I’ll go,” she said as she buttered her toast. “But only because you’re going to be there. Hopefully we can chat politely for twenty minutes and then go our separate ways, and I’ll never have to see the man again.”
“He may be a very nice man,” Fenella suggested. “I know you were shocked when he turned up on your doorstep, but maybe you should give him a chance.”
“I don’t trust him,” Shelly replied. “John and I were married for a very long time, and we didn’t keep secrets from one another. I can’t believe that John never mentioned Lance, not once, even though Lance claims they wrote back and forth for years. I certainly don’t remember John getting any letters from anyone at home, aside from his mother, who often wrote to him when we were first married.”
“You should ask him to let you see the letters,” Fenella suggested.
“He’ll have an excuse as to why he can’t produce them,” Mona said.
“Yes, I’ll do that,” Shelly agreed. “And I’m going to try to trip him up again. Maybe he just got lucky and guessed that I was lying about John loving surprises. I’ll have to come up with some better ways to catch him out.”
“Have you given any thought as to why he might be lying?” Fenella asked. “What might he gain by telling you that he was John’s friend?”
“I suspect he’s after my money,” Shelly said with a shrug. “John had good insurance, and we’d paid off our mortgage years ago, so the house was mine as well. I suppose I might be a target for men looking for wealthy widows.”
“That was my first thought, as well,” Fenella told her. “It’s about the only thing I can think of, actually.”
“Too bad for him that I don’t find him the least little bit attractive. His face was odd,” Shelly said.
“He told me about that, actually. Apparently he was in a car accident and had to have surgery to cover some of the scars.”
“Really? That’s rather sad, actually,” Shelly frowned. “I don’t want to feel sorry for the man.”
“So don’t believe him,” Fenella suggested. “I’m not sure that I do.”
Shelly nodded. “There is that. If he’s lying about knowing John, he’s probably lying about everything. His name probably isn’t really even Lance Thomas.”
“What if he passes all of your tests? Will you feel differently about him if you know he did know John?”
Shelly gave her a thoughtful look. “Maybe,” she said eventually. “John was always a good judge of character. If he was friends with Lance, even years ago, then perhaps we’ve misjudged him.”
“I know I’m extra suspicious of everyone because of all of the things that have happened since I’ve been on the island.”
“Yes, and I’ve picked up on that from you,” Shelly sighed. “If Lance had turned up here six months ago, before you’d found your first dead body, I probably would have believed everything he told me without giving it a second thought.”
“I wouldn’t have,” Mona said. “But I’ve never been a very trusting person.”
Fenella bit her tongue and then nibbled on her toast. “We’re meeting him at noon at the Chinese place,” she told Shelly.
“That’s a great choice. It should be quick. I’d like to spend as little time as possible with him.”
The doorbell interrupted Fenella’s reply.
“Happy birthday,” the man at the door said, handing Fenella a huge bouquet of roses.
“It isn’t my birthday,” she countered.
“Oh, happy anniversary?”
“Nope.”
“Well, then, someone must feel as if he owes you a huge apology,” he suggested. “Sign here, please.”
Fenella scribbled her name on the sheet as directed and then shut the door behind the man.
“Ooooh, lovely,” Shelly cooed. “Who are they from?”
“Use the vase in the cupboard to the left of the sink,” Mona instructed her as Fenella put the flowers down on the counter.
She pulled the card out of the bouquet and opened the envelope. “I’m sorry,” was all that it said. The signature was illegible, but the large Ds at the start of both the first and last name were all that Fenella needed.
“From Donald, I assume,” Mona said as Fenella put the flowers into the huge vase that was right where Mona had said it would be.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Yes?” Shelly asked.
“Oh, sorry,” Fenella flushed. “I was having a conversation with myself and just started talking out loud.”
“Are you going to tell me who the flowers are from or not?” Shelly demanded.
“Oh, sorry. They’re from Donald.”
“To thank you for last night? What happened last night that requires four dozen roses the next morning, or shouldn’t I ask?” Shelly said with a laugh.
“Nothing happened last night,” Fenella snapped. As soon as she saw the hurt look on Shelly’s face, she rushed to apologize. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired of everyone suggesting that I should sleep with Donald.”
“I never suggested any such thing,” Shelly replied.
Shelly was right. It was Mona who kept making that suggestion. Fenella drained her coffee cup before she could put her foot in her mouth again. “Donald and I had a small disagreement at the end of the evening last night,” she explained to Shelly. “The flowers are an apology.”
“Gosh, I wish he’d fight with me,” Shelly told her. “They’re gorgeous, and they smell fabulous as well.”
They did smell wonderful, Fenella had to admit. “You should take a dozen or so home with you,” she told Shelly. “I don’t need all of them.”
“Donald sent them to you. I couldn’t possibly take any,” Shelly protested.
“You need to ring Donald and thank him,” Mona said.
“Why?” Fenella demanded.
“I just said, because Donald sent them to you,” Shelly replied, sounding confused.
Fenella shook her head as Mona chuckled softly. “I was arguing with myself, not you,” she told Shelly. “I don’t want to ring Donald to thank him, even though I know I should.”
“If you ring now, you can catch him in his office. Maybe he’ll be too busy to speak with you and you can just leave a message with his secretary,” Shelly suggested.
“What a brilliant idea,” Fenella exclaimed. She grabbed the phone and then frowned down at it. “I don’t have his number,” she said.
“Ring his office,” Shelly suggested. “You can find the number online.”
Fenella pulled out her mobile and did a quick search for the man’s name. “Donaldson Enterprises, is that his company?” she asked.
“Haven’t you ever looked for him online before?” Shelly asked.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Wow. If I were involved with someone, I’d be all over the Internet trying to find out about him,” Shelly told her. “Are you on social media?”
“A little bit, but not much.”
Shelly shook her head. “Maybe I’m a crazy stalker, but I’ve already tried to find Lance Thomas on all the usual sites.”
“And?”
“And nothing. He doesn’t seem to have accounts anywhere, at least not ones that are public. And yes, that is Donald’s company.”
Fenella blinked at the change of subject and then looked back down at her phone. “I have cold feet.”
“Just ring him and thank him,” Mona said. “As Shelly said, you may get away with leaving a message.”
Fenella dialed the number and then held her breath as the phone at the other end began to ring.
“Good morning, Donaldson Enterprises. This is Jenna. How can I help you?”
“Ah, good morning. I was hoping to speak to Donald, er, Mr. Donaldson.”
“I’m terribly sorry, but Mr. Donaldson is in client meetings all day. I can take a message to let him know that you rang, though.”
Fenella gave Shelly a happy grin. “Yes, please. Just tell him that Fenella said thank you.”
“Fenella? May I ask your surname, please?”
“My surname? It’s Woods.”
“Ah, please hold.”
A moment later Fenella heard a ringing sound again. A moment later Donald’s voice came down the line.
“I behaved very badly,” he said. “And I’m incredibly sorry.”
“Whatever you did, I don’t deserve all of these lovely flowers.”
“You deserve them and more. I knew perfectly well that you were simply teasing and I, well, I needlessly took offense. I will make it up to you, I promise.”
“You already have,” Fenella assured him.
“Yes, well, we’ll agree to disagree on that. I’m afraid I’m in the middle of a very important meeting, otherwise I’d be trying to talk you into having dinner with me tonight. I believe I may have to go to London this afternoon, though. I don’t suppose you fancy a few days in London?”
“Not on such short notice.”
“Yes, well, I’ll be in touch soon,” Donald said. The phone clicked off in Fenella’s hand.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Mona asked.
“He’s off to London this afternoon,” Fenella said.
“Did he invite you to join him?” Mona and Shelly both asked at the same time.
“Yes,” Fenella sighed.
“And you turned him down,” Shelly said. “I’m not sure I would have.” When Fenella gave her a shocked look, she quickly continued. “I mean, I would now, but if I were you, I’m not sure I would have. He’s rich and gorgeous and sexy, and I’m sure he would spoil you absolutely rotten, given the opportunity. Flying off to London on a moment’s notice just sounds so romantic. I’ve never done anything that romantic.”
“He’ll be tied up in meetings and I’d be on my own, sitting in a fancy hotel, afraid to touch anything in the room,” Fenella said.
Shelly laughed as Mona rolled her eyes. “You should go and take yourself out to see the sights,” Mona said. “Flirt with unsuitable men, drink too much, let Donald worry about where you are when he gets back from his meetings.”
Fenella couldn’t think of any way to reply to that, so she was glad she had Shelly as an excuse to ignore her aunt.
“What time is lunch, then?” Shelly asked.
“We’re meeting Lance at noon.”
“I think I’ll go and pace anxiously around my flat until then.”
“Let’s go and do something instead,” Fenella suggested.
“We could go get some groceries,” Shelly said. “Then maybe we won’t have to eat stale bread for breakfast tomorrow.”
5
Two hours later Fenella’s cupboards and refrigerator were full and she was starving.
“I’m glad we have lunch plans,” she told Shelly. “I don’t want to take the time to cook anything.”
“I’m just going to go and freshen up,” Shelly replied. “I’ll be right back.”
Fenella ran a brush through her hair and touched up her makeup. Mona was nowhere to be seen as Fenella made sure Katie had her lunch and a fresh bowl of water. Ten minutes later, five minutes after they should have left for the restaurant, Fenella started to worry about Shelly.
When her friend didn’t answer her knock, Fenella grew even more concerned. She walked back to her apartment and rang Shelly’s mobile number.
“I can’t do it,” Shelly said in a low voice. “Tell him I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.”
“Okay. If you don’t want to come, that’s fine,” Fenella said quickly. “I’ll go and talk to him. Can you give me any tips on things to test him on?”
“Ask him what John’s favorite color was and where John and I met. If John truly did write to him about me, he would have told him that. Ask him how John proposed, too. He’d have mentioned that. Maybe, if he can answer all of those questions, I might agree to meet talk to him another time.”
“You have to do what’s best for you,” Fenella said firmly. “If you don’t want to talk to the man, don’t.”
“I’m sorry that you’re having to have lunch with him alone, though.”
“It’s my own fault. I made the arrangements.”
“I can ring you in ten minutes and pretend that there’s an emergency.”
“Thank you, but I think I’m too hungry to agree to that. I may have to talk to Lance, but at least I’ll get lunch.”
Shelly chuckled. “You’re almost temping me, but not quite.”
“Do you want me to bring you something back?”
“No, thank you. If I can’t go along, I don’t deserve to have the lovely food.”
“That’s silly. You have to do what’s right for you. You still deserve lovely food.”
“Maybe we could go somewhere for lunch tomorrow,” Shelly suggested. “But you’d better get going now.”
Fenella glanced at the clock. She had less than a minute to get to the restaurant on time. “I’m going to be late,” she sighed.
“Tell him I’m sorry,” Shelly said. “I just need more time.”
Fenella nodded and then grabbed her handbag. There was no sign of the elevators, so Fenella raced down the stairs and then dashed across the lobby. She walked into the Chinese restaurant at five past twelve. Lance was nowhere to be seen.
“He couldn’t possibly have given up on me so quickly,” Fenella said.
“I’m sorry?” the restaurant’s host said.
Fenella shrugged. “I’m meeting a friend for lunch, but I’m a few minutes late. I hope I didn’t miss him.”
“I don’t believe that you did. I haven’t seated anyone on their own, anyway.”
“I suppose I need a table for two, then.”
“Will this do?” the man asked a moment later. “I thought you’d like to be near the door so that you can watch for your friend.”
“This is fine,” Fenella replied. She didn’t generally like being seated so close to the front of the small room, but it made sense to be near the door. The table felt far less intimate than the booths at the back that she and Shelly usually preferred. That was definitely better for today.
“Can I get you a drink while you wait for your friend?”
Fenella ordered a soda and then picked up the menu. She nearly always ordered the same thing, but maybe today she would try something different. Reading the entire menu three times didn’t take nearly long enough, she thought as she sipped her drink. It was twenty past twelve, and she felt that she needed to either order or leave in the next few minutes. It wasn’t so much that the small restaurant was busy, as there were still a few empty tables scattered around the room, but Fenella was starving.
She’d just decided to leave when the door swung open and Lance strolled into the room. He glanced around and then nodded at her.
“This isn’t really what I was expecting,” he said as he dropped into the seat opposite her. “I suppose as I’m used to London, I was bound to be disappointed, wasn’t I?”
Fenella swallowed a dozen replies. It was important to be nice to him until she could work out exactly what he wanted from Shelly, she reminded herself.
“Can I get you a drink?” the waiter asked, giving Fenella a smile. She flushed as she wondered if he thought Lance was a blind date.
“Just water,” Lance said. “Do you have daily specials?”
“No, sir. We have a fairly extensive menu, however,” the waiter replied.
Lance picked up the menu from the table and began to flip through it. “There’s no way one chef can make all of this well,” he said loudly. “Not unless he’s buying most of his sauces already made.”
“I can assure you that our chef makes all of the sauces himself,” the waiter said stiffly.
Lance shrugged. “My drink?”
The waiter nodded and walked away, leaving Fenella wishing she’d walked out after fifteen minutes of waiting.
“Shelly wouldn’t come?” Lance asked.
“No, she’s not ready to talk to you yet,” Fenella replied.
“Tell me about you. You grew up on the island?”
“Yes, and then left for university and never came back. London just had so much more to offer than the island did, at least to my younger self. The fact that I’m back here now suggests that I may have underestimated the island’s appeal all those years ago, of course.”
“Your water,” the waiter said, putting the glass on the table. “Are you ready to order?”
Fenella ordered her usual, a platter with small portions of several of her favorite dishes. Lance ordered plain steamed rice with steamed vegetables.
“Why have you retired back to the island, then?” Fenella asked as the waiter walked away.
“Tax advantages, for one thing. Once I stopped working in London, it seemed silly to pay London prices, for another. Since I’m retired, I can live anywhere in the world. It seemed smart to look for a place to live that was relatively inexpensive. The island seems to fit the bill.”
“Has it changed much since your childhood?”
“I hope you aren’t implying that I’m significantly older than you,” Lance said coolly.
Fenella forced herself to chuckle. “Not at all. But I left the island when I was two. I don’t remember it at all.”
“That explains your accent,” Lance replied. “How long have you lived here, then?”
“Only about six months.”
“Has it changed much? Yes, it has, actually. In many ways I preferred it forty years ago. It isn’t really the island I remember.”
“Have you been able to locate any of your other former friends?”
Lance shook his head. “John was the only person I stayed in touch with after I left. I suppose there may be a few people still around from my school days, but I’m not sure I’d remember them if they spoke to me. It was a very long time ago, after all.”
“Yes, and a long time for you and John to have stayed in touch.”
Friends and Frauds (An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Book 6) Page 7