RING OF LIES
By Victoria Howard
First published as a Kindle e-book in 2011
© Copyright 2010 Victoria Howard
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to places, events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
E-book cover design by Mae Phillips at BabyfreshDesigns.com
For more information about Victoria Howard’s books please visit:
www.victoriahoward.co.uk
Acknowledgements
To my wonderful friends and fellow writers Dorothy Roughley, Daphne Rose, and Brenda Hill, for their encouragement and support on the long road to publication. I could not have written this novel without you and I’m honoured to call you my friends.
I would also like to thank Jonathan Smith of Loch Lomond Seaplanes, for answering my endless questions. Mistakes are mine, not his.
My thanks also go to the residents of Boca Grande whose island home was the inspiration for this novel. Thank you for allowing me to share your piece of paradise.
The final thanks go to Stephen, who not only supports me in all I do, and who makes me laugh, but for supplying me with endless cups of tea as the end drew near.
For Wendy and Paul
CHAPTER ONE
Grace Elliott followed her husband’s coffin down the cobbled path from the church to the graveyard and tried not to stumble on rain-slicked stones. She shivered and grasped the collar of her suit jacket, holding it tightly against her neck as the winter rain seeped through her clothing and chilled her to the bone.
She felt hollow inside, and guilty.
Daniel’s accident was her fault. If only they hadn’t argued before he left for the conference, he might still be alive.
The small twelfth Century church stood on a hill on the edge of the village, its yellow Cotswold stone weathered with age. Moss-covered headstones dotted the graveyard, the inscriptions faded and barely readable. High in the branches of a gnarled yew tree, a rook cawed. Even the angels on top of the monuments seemed to frown on her.
Grace straightened her shoulders and kept her eyes firmly fixed on the single wreath of yellow chrysanthemums, solidago, and eucalyptus on top of the casket.
Apart from her heavily pregnant best friend, Olivia, only half a dozen mourners clustered around the open grave. Daniel had many friends and business associates. Where were they? She flitted between anger and sadness. He thought he was so popular, yet he was reduced to this—nearly forgotten on the day of his rest. She looked at the small group; Daniel’s business partner, Shaun, and his wife—what was her name? Grace struggled to remember: Mary? Margaret? No, Margot, that was it. And there was Liz, Daniel’s secretary, standing self-consciously to one side, constantly dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled handkerchief.
She didn’t know the short, smartly dressed middle-aged man with the pale, square jaw. But she recognized two of Daniel’s friends from the local golf club who had forsaken their daily round to attend.
But the person whose support she needed most of all was absent.
Despite numerous calls to Catherine’s mobile phone and messages left on her answering machine, her sister remained silent. It wasn’t unusual for Catherine to do her own thing. She had always had a selfish streak, going her own way, letting the family down, and today was no different. Yet it was, because Catherine was leaving Grace alone at a time when she needed her only sister the most.
Head bowed, Grace took her place next to the minister beside the open grave, her sense of loss beyond tears.
The minister’s voice intoned over the heads of the mourners. ‘We entrust our brother Daniel, to God's mercy, and now commit his body to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, and dust to dust.’
She struggled to hold back her tears and concentrate on the words, as grief and guilt squeezed her heart. Perhaps she should have organized a wake for Daniel’s business colleagues and friends, but with his parents dead and her sister nowhere to be found, she couldn’t face listening to their condolences and platitudes on her own.
At the minister’s prompting, she stepped forward and picked up a handful of earth, allowing it to slip through her fingers, dusting the casket. The service over, the mourners crowded round her. Shaun was the first to step forward and take her hand.
‘I just wanted to say how sorry Margot and I are. It must be a very difficult time for you, and if there is anything we can do, please don’t hesitate to let us know. Daniel was a good friend as well as my business partner.’
‘Daniel… Daniel would have been pleased that you remembered him. I really appreciated your kindness in clearing his desk and returning his personal items to me when I know you’re so busy.’
‘It was no trouble, Grace. No trouble at all.’ Shaun leant forward and kissed her cheek. ‘Keep in touch.’
One by one, the other mourners paid their respects then silently drifted away. Only Olivia remained by her side.
‘Poor, poor dear,’ she said, draping an arm around Grace’s shoulders. ‘Here you are, and where is that sister of yours? Doesn’t she care?’
‘You know she does, Olivia. I’m sure she would be here if she knew, but I’ve been unable to contact her. She has a career and—’
‘—and a sister, whom she is leaving to twist in the proverbial wind on the darkest day of her life. I swear Grace, I don’t know how you’re holding together.’
Grace shivered. ‘I’m not.’ She collapsed on Olivia’s shoulder and shuddered with sobs. Olivia cradled her as a child—as the child she’d soon have, Grace thought. Another loss, she realized. She’d never have a child now that Daniel was gone.
‘Oh, Grace. I know you loved him so.’
‘I did. I do. What do I do now Olivia? How do I continue without him?’
‘I’m here for you, my dear, as is Tom. Somehow we’ll get through this together.’
Grace sniffed and blew her nose. ‘I… I’d like a few moments by myself. Do you mind?’
Olivia narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I need to say goodbye. I have to. I won’t be long.’
‘Take as much time as you need. I’ll wait in the car.’
Not trusting herself to speak, Grace merely nodded. She clasped her slender hands together and bent her head to hide the pain in her eyes. She felt empty. A flash of wild grief ripped through her, threatening to shatter her resolve not to cry anymore.
She remained at the graveside, ignoring the rain as it dripped from the brim of her borrowed hat onto the back of her neck. She gulped in air, and kept her gaze on the rain-speckled brass plate on the coffin.
Daniel Elliott. 1971-2009
Tears blinded her eyes. Daniel was too young to die. At thirty-eight, he’d been the youngest partner in a firm of international accountants. And he’d been her rock—her one constant in ten brief years. How would she cope without him?
With her emotions barely under control, she made her way over the slippery cobblestones towards the car park. A man stepped out from beneath the moss-covered lych-gate and made her jump. She recognized him as the smartly dressed stranger from the graveside.
He doffed his hat. ‘Mrs. Elliott?’
‘Yes?’
‘My condolences on the loss of your husband.’
‘Thank you. It was kind of you to come today. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to be on my own.’ Grace turned, but he grabbed her arm with the strength of a boxer. She winced. He relaxed his grasp slightly, but held her fast.
‘What I have to say won’t take a moment.’
Grace felt her temper rise. ‘I
don’t even know you. I’ve just buried my husband. Have a heart!’
He grinned. ‘A heart? An interesting choice of words. Hearts aren’t standard issue in my business, Mrs. Elliott. Information is.’
Her head snapped up. ‘Information? What sort of information?’
‘The kind you are about to provide.’
Grace gave an involuntary shudder. The impenetrable blackness of his eyes and the way his tongue darted at the end of his sentences made her think of snakes. She glanced over her shoulder. Olivia beckoned from the car, no doubt anxious to get back to help her husband Tom, the local vet, with afternoon surgery.
‘I have to go now. My friend is waiting.’
‘I appreciate that this is not the most suitable time to discuss matters, but I assure you this will only take a few minutes. Your late husband looked after my business interests.’
‘In that case, I suggest you talk to Shaun, Daniel’s partner. He’s dealing with all Daniel’s clients.’
‘Perhaps I’m not making myself clear, Mrs. Elliott. This has nothing to do with your husband’s business.’ His tongue darted again. ‘Daniel and I had a private arrangement. He had access to some very, shall we say, sensitive information. I just want to ensure that it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.’
Frightened, Grace tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened. ‘Whoever you are, let me go.’
‘In a moment, Mrs. Elliott.’
‘You’re hurting me!’
The stranger’s lips twisted into a cynical smile. ‘That’s good, since it’s my intention.’
‘I’ll scream. Someone will come.’
‘We’re quite alone out here. If I wanted to, I assure you I could drop you where you stand.’
Grace ceased to breathe. She knew he was right. ‘What do you want from me? Who are you?’
‘Your husband kept files that are of great importance to me.’
‘All client files are stored at the office.’
The stranger shook his head. ‘Not paper files, electronic files—computer disks.’
‘Whether the information you require is on paper or on a computer, I can assure you, I don’t have anything belonging to you.’
He smirked, never blinking, and then released her arm. ‘You’re telling the truth.’
‘Of course I am.’
‘It’s a good thing you are. I know when women are lying. You wouldn’t want to lie to me, Mrs. Elliott. Not ever. It wouldn’t bode well for you. Now I’ll let you go. You’ll be late for your appointment with your husband’s solicitor.’
‘How do you know that?’ Grace’s fingers tightened around the strap of her purse, until her nails dug into her palm.
‘It’s my business to know things. By the way, have you spoken to your sister lately?’
Grace’s head jerked up. ‘That’s none of your business.’
The man merely smiled. ‘Of course it’s not. I won’t keep you any longer, Mrs. Elliott. I’ll be in touch again soon.’ He turned and limped away into the mist.
Sweat gathered along Grace’s spine as grief was replaced by fear. Her heart hammered beneath her ribs.
‘Wait! Please! Is Catherine in trouble? If you know anything at all about her, please tell me.’
He didn’t turn around. ‘Goodbye, Mrs. Elliott.’
She stared at his retreating back. Who was he? Someone violent enough to instil fear, that much was certain. What did Catherine’s whereabouts have to do with the stranger’s computer disks? And how did this man know about her appointment with the solicitor? Was it a lucky guess?
She took a deep, unsteady breath, and hurried out of the churchyard toward the waiting car.
‘Who was that?’ Olivia asked, as Grace slipped into the passenger seat.
‘One of Daniel’s clients.’ She rubbed her arm. ‘I told him to speak to Shaun.’ She twisted in her seat to look back at the wooden lych-gate, but the stranger had vanished.
‘Well, not to worry, my dear,’ Olivia replied. She selected first gear and released the handbrake. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to the solicitor’s office?’
‘Thanks for the offer, but no. I think this is something I should do on my own.’
Olivia sighed. ‘Then I’ll drop you off in town. But you need to know I don’t approve.’
‘I’ll be fine. Besides, didn’t you say one of the veterinary nurses is off with the flu?’
‘Rufus, Tom’s assistant, has come down with it too. Otherwise Tom would have come to the funeral. It’s very difficult to find a locum vet at short notice. And you know how agitated Tom gets if he has to cope with reception duties as well as his patients. But if you wanted me to stay, I daresay he could manage on his own for another hour or two. Can I change your mind?’
‘You and Tom have been marvellous. I don’t know what I would have done without your support. And thank you for the hat. I just hope the rain hasn’t ruined it.’ She took it off and laid it on the rear seat.
‘Darling, think nothing of it. That’s what friends are for.’
Grace turned and smiled at the woman next to her. Olivia’s dark hair was cut into a sleek dark, chin length bob, and despite the sadness of the occasion, her blue eyes brimmed with happiness. Pregnancy suited her.
‘I have to get used to being on my own. Besides, you’ve the baby to think of. You should be sat at home with your feet up, not running around after me.’
‘Well, I must admit, I’m starting to feel tired, and my ankles swell if I stand for too long. But if you would like me to stay until that wayward sister of yours gets in touch, I can.’
Grace shook her head. ‘No, really, I’ll be fine.’
‘Ah, here we are.’ Olivia pulled the car into a vacant parking space outside the pharmacy. ‘I’ll call you this evening to make sure you’re all right.’
Grace climbed out of the passenger seat. It was market day, and the small Cotswold town was crowded with Christmas shoppers. Grace felt anxious as she walked along the bustling street toward the solicitor’s office. She hated dealing with people in authority: Daniel had insisted on handling everything himself.
As she passed the shoe shop, Grace caught sight of her reflection in the window. She looked gaunt, much older than her thirty-two years. The jacket of the hastily purchased black woollen suit hung off her shoulders, making her appear anorexic. Her normally pink cheeks were pale, and there were dark circles under her deep blue eyes. Even her chestnut-coloured hair lacked lustre. Perhaps she should have worn it loose instead of scraped back in a bun, which highlighted the hollows in her cheeks. She shrugged. It was too late to worry about her appearance now.
She took a deep breath, and pushed open the door of the solicitor’s office. The staccato of her heels echoed on the polished marble floor. She hardly noticed the décor as the exquisitely groomed receptionist showed her into the conference room where an old, bespectacled gentleman sat behind an enormous desk. He creaked to his feet when she entered the room.
‘Mrs. Elliott, please take a seat. I’m sorry to drag you here, especially today of all days, but it’s best for all concerned if these matters are settled quickly. I hope you’ll accept my condolences on your husband’s untimely demise. It must have been a terrible shock for you.’
‘Yes, it was. Your letter came as a surprise, too. I wasn’t aware that Daniel had made a will.’ Grace’s hands twisted in her lap. ‘I didn’t think it was necessary as we purchased the house in joint names and have a joint bank account.’ To her dismay, her voice cracked.
‘Mr Elliott made his will quite recently. Of course, it simplifies matters from a legal point of view, but I am surprised he didn’t discuss it with you first. He leaves the bulk of his estate to you, as you would expect. Applegate Cottage, as you pointed out, is held jointly between you and your husband so his share automatically passes to you. I am sure it will come as a relief to know there are ample funds from his life insurance to pay off the outstanding sum on the mortgage, so you
needn’t worry about that. There is only one other bequest, to a Miss Catherine Peterson.’
‘Catherine? Daniel included my sister in his will? Do you know why?’
‘A will is a very personal thing, Mrs. Elliott, as I’m sure you appreciate. It is not my place to ask my clients the reason behind their decisions.’
‘No, no, of course not.’ Grace bent her head and studied her hands as she absently listened to the solicitor. Anger and confusion surged through her. Why had Daniel felt it necessary to make a will? And why had he made Catherine a beneficiary?
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