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

by Diana Xarissa

  “I would have thought that Donald would have wanted to help you celebrate.”

  “I’m not sure he even knows I had the test today.”

  “Really? Well, as I said, congratulations.”

  “Thanks.”

  There were a million other things that Fenella wanted to say, but she bit her tongue. Then she heard a voice on the other end of the line.

  “Daniel? Are you finished? I’m still waiting,” the woman’s sing-song voice carried down the line.

  “I’m coming now,” Daniel replied. His voice sounded muffled, as if he’d slipped the phone into his pocket without disconnecting first.

  “Hurry,” the woman called, laughing.

  A moment later the phone went dead in Fenella’s hand.

  “What’s wrong?” Shelly demanded, staring hard at Fenella.

  “Nothing. He just called to see how my driving test went. I’m flattered that he remembered, really.”

  “What else did he say?”

  “Nothing, nothing at all.”

  “So why did your face go white and your smile disappear?”

  Fenella sighed. “Some woman called his name and told him to hurry up,” she told her friend.

  “It was probably just a work colleague.”

  “It sounded a lot friendlier than that.”

  Shelly pulled Fenella into a hug. “I’ve half a mind to ring that man and tell him what I think,” she said crossly.

  “Yeah, since I’m here, going out with Donald and Peter and anyone else who comes along,” Fenella replied. “Daniel has every right to get involved with someone else. We even agreed to that before he left.”

  “That doesn’t mean he should, though.”

  “I’m spending time with Donald.”

  “Yes, but that’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we all know you don’t really like Donald. We all know you’re in love with Daniel, you just aren’t ready to admit to it yet.”

  Fenella wanted to argue, but she couldn’t seem to find the right words. “Well, maybe it’s time for me to give Donald another chance,” she said after swallowing hard. “It looks as if Daniel isn’t sitting around missing me.”

  “Should we still get dinner or do you want to go home?” Shelly asked.

  “Dinner, and wine,” Fenella replied. “We’re celebrating, remember?”

  The food at the restaurant was excellent, and Fenella did her best to put Daniel and the phone call out of her head. She and Shelly shared a bottle of wine as they ate.

  “I shouldn’t be drinking, not when I have to face Lance later,” Shelly said after her first glass.

  “Maybe he’ll be easier to deal with after a few drinks,” Fenella suggested. “Maybe I should have a few and then text Daniel and ask him how his evening was.”

  “Or maybe I should take your phone away from you before you do something stupid,” Shelly suggested.

  “Yeah, that would probably be better,” Fenella agreed. “I’m not going to do anything stupid, though. I’m just going to enjoy dinner and some wine and then keep you company while you talk to Lance. I won’t drink any more at the pub.”

  The pair talked about nothing much as they cleared their plates. It seemed as if one or the other of them wanted to avoid nearly every possible topic of conversation.

  “I never texted Peter,” Shelly exclaimed after they’d paid the bill and were making their way out of the restaurant.

  “Text him now, just spell everything very carefully,” Fenella suggested with a giggle.

  Shelly laughed. “I’m not drunk, I’m just a little bit happy.”

  “I’m happy, too. Really, really, really happy. I should call Donald and see what he’s doing tonight. Maybe he’d like to help me celebrate passing my driving test.”

  “I’m definitely taking your phone away from you,” Shelly said. “Donald is the last thing you need right now.”

  “Why? He’d probably buy me something extravagant to help me celebrate. Knowing Donald, he’d buy me a car.”

  Shelly laughed. “He probably would, if he thought it would help his cause, but you don’t want to sleep with Donald.”

  “Mona would, if she were me. Maybe I should be more like Mona.”

  “Mona had a wild reputation, but she wasn’t nearly as wild as everyone believes. From everything she told me, I think she was a one-man woman, and that man was Maxwell Martin.”

  “What did Peter say about tonight?” Fenella asked.

  “He’s going to meet us in the corridor in front of room 312,” Shelly replied after looking at her phone. “Then we won’t have to face Lance alone.”

  “I just hope Lance is alone. If his friends are with him, I’m not going to be polite.”

  “You don’t have to be polite to them. They don’t deserve it.”

  Fenella nodded and then stopped as she felt a little dizzy. She hadn’t really drunk that much and she’d eaten a large meal, but with all of the stress of the driving test and the excitement of passing it, perhaps she’d overdone it. Daniel wasn’t a factor, of course.

  “Good evening,” Peter said a moment later as the women walked off the elevator on the third floor of their building. “And many congratulations to you,” he said to Fenella. “I must tell you that I really wouldn’t fancy taking my driving test again at my age. I’ve had so many years to pick up bad habits. I’m pretty sure I’d fail for at least some of them.”

  Fenella laughed as she gave the man a hug. “Thank you for not saying that until I was done with the test.”

  “Mel said he knew you could pass, as long as you stayed calm. He said you were one of the best students he’s ever had, once you got over your fear of the manual transmission,” Peter told her.

  “Did I ever thank you for introducing me to Mel?” Fenella replied. “He was a wonderful teacher and very patient with me.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  “It’s quarter past seven,” Shelly interjected. “I don’t want Lance angry at us for being late.”

  “I told you he was nearly half an hour late for lunch and didn’t even mention it,” Fenella replied. “I don’t care if we are late.”

  Shelly nodded, but she quickly walked to 312 and knocked on the door. After a minute, she knocked again.

  “He isn’t home,” she said angrily. “After all of that, he isn’t even home?”

  “Maybe he forgot that we were meeting here and went to the pub,” Fenella suggested. “Do you want me to walk over and check?”

  “I think we should all stick together,” Shelly told her. “I don’t want to be standing here on my own if he suddenly opens the door, that’s for sure.”

  “Peter can wait with you,” Fenella suggested.

  “Then you’d have to walk into the pub by yourself,” Shelly pointed out. “And Lance’s friends might be there.”

  “It’s only next door,” Peter said. “Let’s all go, and then if he isn’t there, we can come back here. It will only take two minutes to check.”

  No one could argue with that, so they all got back on the elevator and rode down to the lobby. There were only three people in the pub and they were all strangers, at least to Fenella.

  “He’s just gone out somewhere and forgotten all about us,” Shelly said as they walked back into their building again. “We should just forget all about him and get on with our lives.”

  “Let’s try his apartment one more time,” Fenella said. “I’m just drunk enough, and mad enough, to tell him what I really think of him. After that, I suspect he’ll stay well away from both of us.”

  Shellly laughed. “This should be fun,” she said as they stopped on the third floor again.

  “The door is open,” Fenella said as they walked down the corridor. “It wasn’t open when we were here a few minutes ago.”

  “Maybe he just got back and he left it open for us,” Shelly said.

  “I don’t like this,” Peter said. “Hello?” he called loudly fro
m the doorway.

  “Lance, what are you playing at?” Fenella shouted, knocking on the open door.

  “This is crazy,” Shelly said in a loud whisper. “Why are we even bothering? Let’s go home.”

  “We can’t leave the door open like this,” Fenella replied. She knocked again. “Lance? What’s going on?”

  “He’s probably just in the loo,” Shelly said.

  They all stood quietly in the corridor, trying to hear sounds of movement from the apartment.

  “This is making me nervous,” Fenella said after a few minutes. “I think we should call the police.”

  “The police? That seems a bit extreme,” Shelly replied.

  “If the apartment door weren’t open, I’d agree,” Fenella told her. “But something feels off about this.”

  “I could go in and see if I can find Lance,” Peter suggested.

  “No, that’s the worst thing you could do,” Fenella replied. “You might contaminate the crime scene.”

  Shelly laughed. “You’ve found one too many dead bodies. This isn’t a crime scene, unless you think missing out on drinks at the pub is a crime.”

  Fenella shook her head. She felt completely sober and very worried. If Daniel had been on the island, other woman or not, she would have called him immediately. As it was, she wasn’t sure whom to call.

  “Just ring 999,” Peter suggested. “They’ll send the closest constable.”

  “Yes, that’s probably for the best,” Shelly said.

  Fenella pulled out her phone and pressed the nine button three times. When the call was answered, she told the operator what was happening. “We were meant to be meeting a friend at his apartment, but when we got here the door was open. We’ve knocked, but not gone inside. He isn’t answering the door.”

  “Have you tried ringing him?” the woman asked. “He may have fallen asleep or something. Do you have his mobile number?”

  “I do,” Fenella said, feeling stupid for not thinking of that herself. She handed Lance’s card to Peter. “Try calling him,” she told the man.

  A minute later they could hear an unpleasant ringtone coming from somewhere inside the apartment.

  “We can hear the phone ringing, but no one is answering,” Fenella told the operator.

  “I’ll send the nearest constable. Please remain where you are and do not go into the flat.”

  “Yes, we will.”

  Fenella could hear the woman speaking to someone, but she couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. A moment later she was back. “What can you tell me about the man you are visiting?” she asked.

  “His name is Lance Thomas. He’s just moved to the island from across, although he claims to have grown up on the island. What else do you want to know?”

  “How old is he? Does he have any health issues that you are aware of? Does he live alone? Do you know anything about his next of kin?”

  The last question caused Fenella to gasp. “No, I don’t know anything about next of kin. I think he’s probably in his sixties, and he seems to be in perfectly good health, but I don’t know anything for certain. As far as I know, he lives alone, although he does have some friends on the island.”

  “Ah, Ms. Woods, I was just thinking the other day that I hadn’t seen you in a while,” the uniformed constable who was walking down the corridor said.

  Fenella flushed. “The constable is here now,” she told the operator before she disconnected the call. “Good evening, Constable Corlett,” she said to the man she’d first met when she’d stumbled over a dead body the day after her arrival on the island.

  “Good evening. What’s the problem tonight, then?” he asked.

  “We were meant to be meeting the apartment’s owner here to go and get a drink at the pub,” Fenella explained. “We were here right around seven and he didn’t answer his door, so we went over to the pub to see if he’d gone there instead of waiting for us here.”

  “The Tale and Tail?” the constable asked.

  “No, the pub next door,” Fenella replied.

  The man wrote something in his notebook and then nodded. “And then what happened?”

  “We came back over here and found the apartment door open,” she replied. “We’ve knocked and shouted the man’s name, but he hasn’t come to the door.”

  “So you rang the police,” he concluded.

  “After everything that’s happened since I’ve been on the island, that seemed the wisest course of action,” Fenella told him.

  The man raised an eyebrow and then nodded. “What’s the man’s name?”

  “Lance Thomas,” Fenella replied.

  “Do either of you have anything to add to Fenella’s version of events?” he asked Shelly and Peter.

  “No, nothing at all,” Peter said. Shelly simply shook her head.

  “Mr. Thomas? Lance Thomas? This is Constable Corlett with the Isle of Man Constabulary. Are you okay? I’m coming inside now to check on you. Are you okay?”

  Fenella and Shelly held hands as they watched the man walk into the apartment. Peter put his arms around both of them when the constable turned around suddenly and began to walk back out of the apartment. His face was pale and he had his phone in his hand as he crossed back into the corridor.

  “I need backup, a full crime scene team and the inspector on call,” he was saying into his phone. “I have three witnesses to be interviewed.”

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” Fenella said in a flat voice after the man had dropped his phone back in his pocket.

  “That’s not for me to determine,” the man replied. “I’m going to ask you to remain here for the time being, however.”

  Fenella wanted to argue. She wanted to cry or shout or hit something. Shelly was sobbing softly in Peter’s arms. The urge to call Daniel was almost overwhelming as the constable got busy on his phone, sending and replying to text messages.

  “How’s your wife?” she asked the man when he took a break from his phone.

  “She’s fine, thanks,” he replied.

  “And the baby? He’s called Odin, if I remember correctly.”

  “You do, and he’s good. He’s already sitting up by himself and babbling constantly. Jenny has taken an extended maternity leave so that she can be with him all the time, and we both think he’s going to be very bright.”

  “How wonderful,” Fenella said mechanically. She was happy for the young man, really, but the awfulness of what was going on around them made it difficult for her to focus.

  “I have a few pictures, if you’d like to see them,” the constable said.

  “Oh, yes, please,” Fenella replied. She was flipping through them, making appropriate remarks, when the elevator doors opened and Inspector Mark Hammersmith stepped out.

  “Why am I not surprised to see you here?” he asked Fenella. “It seems as if every time a body turns up on the island, you’re involved in some way.”

  Fenella sighed. Surely there must have been dozens of police inspectors who could have taken the call about Lance. Why did it have to be Mark Hammersmith who’d turned up? They’d met a month earlier when a number of women whom Fenella had just met began dying in quick succession. The inspector was young, in his mid-thirties, and attractive, with brown hair and green eyes, but Fenella was sure that he didn’t like her. Daniel had been quick to defend Fenella when Inspector Hammersmith had suggested that Fenella might be the only connection between the unexplained deaths the previous month. If Daniel was now involved with someone else, he might not be so quick to defend her again.

  “What do we have?” the inspector asked the constable.

  Constable Corlett looked at Fenella and her friends and then stepped away from them with the inspector on his heels. They talked in low voices so that only the odd word reached Fenella’s ears. That was more than enough, as far as she was concerned.

  “…body…multiple stab…witnesses…been drinking…”

  Fenella looked over at Shelly, who was still standing in
Peter’s arms. He held out his hand and pulled her over to join them.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sliding an arm around her.

  “I don’t know,” she replied.

  “I’m going to ask you not to speak to one another,” the inspector said firmly. “I’ll take your statements shortly.”

  Fenella felt tears begin to well up in her eyes. Lance was dead, or maybe someone else was dead. She was about to be questioned about yet another murder and Daniel was far away and unable to help. Even more worrying, he might be unwilling to help. Fenella wasn’t sure she would blame him if he refused to have anything further to do with her.

  A woman who constantly tripped over dead bodies probably wasn’t the sort of woman a police inspector would want to get involved with. The woman who’d been with him when he’d called was probably another police inspector. She probably never found dead bodies or wandered into missing person cases. She was probably younger, thinner, and smarter, too. A tear slid down Fenella’s cheek as the elevator doors opened again.

  The crime scene team entered the apartment with Mark Hammersmith on their heels. Fenella leaned against Peter and tried to think of something, anything that would help her stop crying. A vision of Mona shaking her head over Fenella’s latest misadventure helped.

  “Have you been drinking?” Constable Corlett asked them a few minutes later.

  “Unfortunately, we found the open door on our way to the pub, not on the way home again,” Peter said. “I haven’t had a drink in days.”

  “Shelly and I shared a bottle of wine over dinner,” Fenella said, suddenly feeling guilty, even though she told herself she shouldn’t.

  “Right, we’ll talk to you first, then,” the constable told Peter. “If you’d all like to come with me, we’re borrowing an office downstairs.”

  They rode the elevator to the lobby in silence. Josh Witters was waiting for them when the doors slid open.

  “If you’d like to come with me,” he told them.

  They followed him across the lobby and through the “Staff Only” door.

  “You’re welcome to use any and all of the space here for tonight,” he told the constable. “We’d appreciate it if you’d confine yourself to the one office during office hours, though.”