Aunt Bessie Goes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 7)

by Diana Xarissa

  “Yes, well, you’d never have known,” Maggie replied. “He is something of a complainer, my Thomas.” With that she spun her trolley around and headed away from Bessie.

  “Let me know if you hear from Mark,” Bessie called after her. Maggie waved, and Bessie took that as a “yes.”

  Aware that time was getting away from her, Bessie sped through the store as quickly as she could. She was only stopped around half a dozen times to answer questions about what she’d seen in the King home. By the time she’d finished shopping and managed to get everything paid for, Dave was already waiting in the taxi rank outside.

  “Sorry,” she said as she climbed in after he’d loaded her shopping into his boot. “Everyone wanted to chat.”

  “They always do,” he pointed out in a pleasant voice. “You have a lot of friends.”

  “I do indeed,” Bessie said with a laugh. “And they all want the latest skeet.”

  Dave agreed to come back in an hour to take Bessie to her lunch date. She quickly put her shopping away and cleared her answering machine messages before changing into a pair of dressy trousers and a jumper. She combed her hair and applied a bit of lipstick, getting back downstairs just as Dave pulled up.

  Bessie and Mary were meeting at a new café that had just opened in Lonan, only a short drive away.

  “I haven’t been in Lonan in years,” Bessie remarked as Dave crossed into the tiny village.

  “There hasn’t been much to come here for,” Dave told her. “Their corner shop is overpriced and their petrol station is closed more than it’s open.”

  Bessie laughed, but Dave was pretty much spot on. The small village had little to attract visitors, something the new café was hoping to overcome.

  It made a good first impression at least, Bessie thought as she emerged from the taxi. The small Manx cottage looked to have been completely remodelled to accommodate its new owners. They’d replaced old windows with new ones that were larger and would let lots of sunlight flood into the dining room. The interiour was decorated in soft pastel shades that felt fresh and bright, in spite of the wet weather outside. The room was about half-full of customers.

  Mary was sitting at a small table in a back corner and Bessie was quick to join her.

  “This is truly lovely,” Bessie said, as she sat down opposite her friend. “I’ve heard good things about the food as well.”

  “I’m so glad,” Mary replied. “This is one of George’s little projects.”

  “I didn’t realise that,” Bessie said.

  “The owners are a really nice couple who had been running a little place on the outskirts of Birmingham. The neighbourhood was going downhill and they wanted to move somewhere safer before they started a family. They actually contacted Island Choice Properties for information about properties for sale here, but they couldn’t even afford something rundown and in need of modernising. Alan Collins rang Grant and suggested that he meet with them and Grant dragged George in as well.”

  “Really?” Bessie said, treading carefully, as she knew Mary didn’t like Grant.

  “For once I actually agreed with Grant,” Mary said with a laugh. “Dan and Carol Jenkins are a lovely couple and once I met them I was happy that George could help them out.”

  Before Bessie could reply, they were interrupted. “Mary? I didn’t know you were coming in today.” The woman who’d spoken rushed over, and once Mary had risen to her feet, gave Mary a huge hug. “You should have told me you were coming.”

  “This is my friend, Bessie,” Mary told the woman. “Bessie, this is Carol Jenkins.” Bessie smiled as she studied the other woman.

  Carol was younger than Bessie had expected, or at least she looked younger. Bessie would have guessed her to be in her mid-twenties, with light brown hair pulled into a tight plait down her back. Her eyes were grey and she had applied only very subtle makeup. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, with a huge white apron over the top.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Bessie murmured, taking the hand the woman offered.

  “Any friend of Mary’s is a friend of mine,” Carol said. “We have a couple of nice specials today, but my personal favourite is our classic British sampler. We rotate the selection. Today you get a miniature shepherd’s pie, a small steak and kidney pie and a tiny portion of fish and chips.”

  “That sounds perfect,” Bessie said enthusiastically. “Is it too much to hope for that you do something similar for pudding?”

  Carol laughed. “As a matter of fact, we do,” she told the women.

  “I might have a new favourite restaurant,” Bessie told Mary after Carol had gone to place their order and fetch their tea.

  “I’ve eaten here at least a dozen times and it’s always been delicious.”

  Bessie asked how Mary’s children were doing and Mary told her all about her recent holiday in Portugal with her oldest son and his family. Once the tea was delivered, Bessie started with her mental list of questions.

  “I suppose you’ve heard that a body was found at the King house,” she said.

  “I did,” Mary shuddered. “I can’t imagine living in a house with a body inside the wall. Have they figured out who the poor person was?”

  Bessie shook her head. “Apparently DNA testing takes a little bit of time,” she replied. “I’m not sure how long. It seems most likely that it’s Adam King, though.”

  “Then Mrs. King couldn’t possibly have known he was there,” Mary said stoutly. “No mother could live in a house with her son’s body behind a wall. Whatever happened, her husband must have kept it from her.”

  “I’m not sure we’ll ever know exactly what happened,” Bessie said. “Did George know young Adam?”

  “Why would George have known him?” Mary asked.

  “He worked for the bank at the same time George did,” Bessie answered. “I know Grant knew Adam, as his sister mentioned that he and Grant once had words, but I didn’t know if George ever met him.”

  Mary frowned. “We were talking about this just yesterday over lunch and neither George nor Grant said anything about knowing the boy.”

  “It was such a long time ago,” Bessie said, waving a hand. “And Grant was already quite important where Adam was simply an errand boy. Perhaps he doesn’t recall having known him.”

  “I shall have to ask him when I see him next,” Mary said. “Both of them, I guess.”

  “I’d love to know if either man has any particular memories of him,” Bessie told her. “There are so many question marks surrounding his disappearance.”

  “I’ll let you know if I find out anything,” Mary promised.

  The food arrived then and the two women spent many minutes enjoying the many different flavours that seemed to perfectly complement one another.

  “This is the best steak and kidney pie I’ve had in a long time,” Bessie told her friend.

  “Everything’s delicious,” Mary replied. “Every time I eat here I want to try to steal Dan away to be my personal chef.”

  “You can’t have him,” Carol said with a laugh. The women had been so focussed on their food that they hadn’t noticed her approach. “We love having our little place here. Dan loves the challenges of running a restaurant kitchen. He’d miss that if he worked for a private family.”

  “I’m still tempted to make him an offer,” Mary replied with a laugh. “But I’m so happy for you both that the place is already such a success.”

  “I can certainly see why you’re successful,” Bessie added. “Everything was perfect.”

  Carol laughed. “Well, I can’t tell Dan that. His ego is big enough as it is.”

  She cleared their empty plates and offered the sweet menu to them both. Bessie glanced down the list and sighed. “I’m so full,” she told Mary after Carol had taken their dishes away.

  “I am as well, but I have to have the sampler. It’s every bit as good as it sounds.”

  Bessie read the description.

  Our pudding sampler today s
tarts with a small chocolate éclair. We’ve paired that with a mini lemon tart. A petite Victoria sponge rounds out the selections.

  The rather straightforward descriptions made her smile. There was nothing worse than overdone menu language. If the puddings were well made, they didn’t need to be described in ridiculous detail.

  “I can’t say no,” Bessie said with a sigh. “It sounds too good.”

  “It isn’t really that much,” Carol assured her when she took the order. “Dan keeps the portions very small. There’s not much more than two bites of each selection.”

  “I’m not even sure I can find room for that much,” Bessie laughed.

  “We can always package up whatever you don’t eat for you to take home,” Carol replied.

  While Mary and Bessie sipped tea and waited for their order, Bessie turned the conversation back to her questions.

  “What did George do at the bank?” she asked Mary, trying to sound casual.

  “I don’t really know for sure,” Mary replied. “He’s always very vague about his work. I think he was some sort of management trainee. I gather Grant was responsible for his being chosen for the programme, and that Grant did some of the training as well, but those are really just impressions I’ve picked up since we’ve been on the island, from listening to George and Grant talk. George never mentioned Grant or much about his time at the bank until we moved back here.”

  If possible, the puddings were even more delicious than Bessie had expected. In spite of being quite full, she found herself scraping the plate. Mary was doing the same.

  “I can see why you want to steal Dan away,” Bessie said as she sat back in her chair. “He’s very talented.”

  “Why, thank you.” The deep voice sounded amused.

  Bessie smiled up at the man who had joined them. His dark brown hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail behind his back. His eyes were brown and the expression in them was warm. Like his wife, he was young, no more than thirty, and he was athletically built with broad shoulders and a flat stomach that puzzled Bessie.

  “You don’t look as if you eat your own cooking,” she said, flushing when she realised that she’d spoken out loud.

  Dan laughed heartily. “I work hard at it,” he assured her. “We have set hours and I spend a lot of my time off in the gym. I taste absolutely every sauce, soup and stew before it leaves my kitchen. Unfortunately, I also have a bad habit of tasting just about every pudding, as well.”

  Bessie laughed. “If I could cook like you, I’d weigh five hundred pounds,” she said.

  “And that’s the only thing that keeps me from really making you an offer,” Mary interjected. “Our chef is good and I could gain weight from her cooking if I’m not careful. I’d be sure to get fat if I had you at home.”

  “I’m perfectly happy right here,” Dan replied. “Having this little place is exactly what Carol and I have always wanted. Once we’re a bit more established, we’re hoping to start that family.”

  He spent a few moments thanking Mary again for her and George’s investment in their business before heading back to the kitchen. Carol was quickly back to offer coffee or anything else they might want.

  “If you don’t mind, we’ll just sit here and sip our tea and talk for a bit,” Mary told her.

  “Take all the time you need,” Carol told her. “Just wave if you want more tea, otherwise I’ll leave you alone.”

  “If it gets busy, we’ll get out of your way,” Bessie assured her.

  “I think the lunch rush is over,” Carol replied. “You should be fine for hours.”

  Bessie drank some tea and tried to figure out what else she needed to ask her friend. It didn’t seem as if Mary knew anything helpful.

  “When you talk to George and Grant about Adam, you might also ask if they knew Mark Carr,” she said after a moment.

  “Did he work for the bank as well?” Mary asked.

  “No, he was Adam’s best friend. It’s very unlikely that either of them knew him, but he’s meant to be on the island somewhere and no one can find him. I’m simply asking everyone I know about him.”

  “My turn to ask you a question,” Mary said. “What were you doing at the King house, anyway?” She flushed. “Is that terribly nosy? You don’t have to answer.”

  “It’s fine,” Bessie replied. “I was with John Rockwell. He’s house hunting in Laxey now that he and his wife have separated.”

  “Oh, that’s very sad,” Mary said. “Not that he’s moving to Laxey, but that he and his wife have separated.”

  “I know,” Bessie agreed. “They have a couple of children and John’s quite unhappy about them moving back to Manchester.”

  “I’ve heard very good things about the man, though,” Mary said thoughtfully. “I suppose I wouldn’t want to see him move across.”

  “You’ve heard good things about John? Where?”

  “We had dinner with the Chief Constable last week,” Mary replied. “He was talking about a new detective who’s just moved here. Apparently, the new woman is going to undergo some training in Douglas and then she’s meant to be an assistant to John at the Laxey station.”

  “Really?” Bessie asked. “Doona and John didn’t mention any of this when I last saw them.”

  “I do hope it isn’t meant to be a secret,” Mary said with a frown. “I gather the idea is that she’ll take up a lot of the day-to-day running of the station so that John can focus more on investigative work and staff training.”

  “I think he’ll like that,” Bessie replied. “And I won’t say anything to him or Doona about it. I’m sure I’ll hear about it when the time is right.”

  “Oh, but if Inspector Rockwell is moving to Laxey, does he need any furniture?” Mary asked.

  Bessie smiled. She knew from personal experience that Mary had several storage lockers full of furniture in the far north of the island.

  “I’m not sure that John could borrow things from you like I did,” she told Mary.

  “We’re planning an auction of some of the pieces for charity,” Mary replied. “Why don’t you and John meet me up in Jurby one day soon and he can have a quick look around at what we’re getting rid of. If there’s anything there he wants, he can submit a sealed bid. If no one exceeds his offer, he’ll win the item on the day of the auction.”

  “He has to be so careful in his position not to take favours from people,” Bessie explained.

  “It isn’t a favour for him,” Mary insisted. “We’re doing it for lots of people who can’t get there on the day. I have friends, family, and a few dozen random strangers coming up on Thursday next week, starting at nine in the morning and running though the day. If the inspector wants to come up, he can stop by any time before dark.”

  “When is the auction?”

  “Friday morning, starting at seven,” Mary replied. “I’ve no idea why it has to start so early, but that’s what the auctioneer wanted.”

  “I’ll let John know,” Bessie told her. “Whether he’ll be able to make it, I couldn’t say.”

  “If he wants to come at a different time or on a different day, please just ring me,” Mary said. “I’ll be up there every day next week sorting everything out, anyway. While I’d love to get rid of everything we have in storage, George is insisting that we keep all the things from his mother’s house. I need to go through every unit, as I’m not sure exactly sure where some of her things have ended up.”

  “I’ll pass that along,” Bessie promised.

  “On Friday evening, there’s an art auction at the house, as well,” Mary continued. “I’ll be sending you a proper invitation, but consider yourself invited for now.”

  “An art auction?” Bessie questioned.

  “Apparently the organisers are gathering donations from a number of local artists,” Mary told her. “It’s really George and Grant putting it all together, or rather Grant’s staff, but I hope you can come. I’ll have so much more fun if you’re there. Bring Doona as well; mayb
e she’ll find a rich husband in the crowd.”

  Bessie laughed. “I’ll be sure to invite her, anyway,” she replied.

  The pair chatted about Mary’s children and the books Bessie had most recently read before Mary looked at her watch.

  “Oh, goodness, it’s nearly four o’clock,” she exclaimed. She waved at Carol, who rushed over.

  “Did you want more tea?” Carol asked cheerfully.

  “I wish,” Mary replied. “I really must be going. If I could just have the bill, please?”

  Carol shook her head. “Lunch is on us today,” she told Mary. “We owe you so much, it’s the least we can do.”

  Mary opened her mouth and Bessie was sure she was going to object, but she didn’t.

  “If you insist,” Mary said instead. “Thank you.”

  Bessie was surprised by her friend’s willingness to accept the offer, but she didn’t feel comfortable saying so. Instead, she gathered up her handbag while Mary did the same with her own bag.

  “I’ll just give you a ride home,” Mary told Bessie as the women stood up. “Then I can get home. We’re having a small dinner party tonight and I’ll be late if I don’t get moving.”

  “I can get a taxi,” Bessie offered.

  “Don’t be silly,” Mary laughed. “Your cottage is less than five minutes away.”

  Bessie couldn’t argue with that. She slipped her raincoat back on and then watched her friend.

  “I just have to leave a tip,” Mary said, reaching into her handbag.

  Bessie recognised a fifty-pound note as Mary took it from her bag. She blinked when she realised that Mary had at least two of them in her hand. Mary caught her eye and winked.

  “Maybe next time they’ll just give me the bill,” she whispered as she took Bessie’s arm and they exited the café.

  Mary drove her home in her luxury sedan. Bessie was feeling so very full and sleepy that if the drive had been even a few minutes longer, she might well have fallen asleep in the unbelievably comfortable leather seats.

  Back at home, Bessie took a short walk on the beach, ignoring the weather. It was still trying to rain, but it had obviously overdone it earlier in the day, so now it could only manage to drip intermittently on Bessie.