“Not yet, anyway. Not while you still need me.” She faded away before Fenella could reply.
15
Patricia rang a few days later. Fenella had been scouring the local paper every day for news about Paulette, but hadn’t found anything. She hadn’t heard any gossip either and was starting to think that she had been wrong about everything.
“I just wanted to let you know that I haven’t forgotten your willingness to help with our upcoming event,” Patricia said. “But we’re putting everything on hold for a short while.”
“I hope Melanie is okay,” Fenella replied.
“Physically, she’s recovering well. Knowing that someone wanted to kill her has taken an emotional toll, though. We’re going to be taking an extended holiday in the south of France. I’ll ring you when we return.”
Fenella put the phone down and looked at Mona. “Patricia and Melanie are having an extended holiday in the south of France,” she repeated.
“The police must have the case solved, if they’re letting them go away,” Mona speculated.
“Patricia seems like the type who would threaten to bring in her lawyers if the police tried to tell her they couldn’t go away.”
“Advocates, dear,” Mona corrected her. “But you’re right. Patricia may have made a fuss. You should ring Daniel.”
“You’ve been saying that several times a day since Sunday,” Fenella replied. “And I’m still not doing it. He’ll call me when he can, or else he won’t, and we’ll read all about it in the local paper. I’m not comfortable calling him to ask for information.”
“So just ring him to see how he’s doing,” Mona suggested.
Fenella ignored her and got back to work on her book. Both she and Mona were delighted when Daniel called that evening. Fenella thought she was being very kind when she put the call on speaker for Mona’s benefit.
“How are you?” Daniel asked.
“I’m well. How are you?”
“Tired. I’m one of the older students on this course. No one else seems to mind the late nights, even with our early starts, but it’s taking a toll on me.”
“And you’re there through August. You’ll be too tired to come back to work.”
“I may be,” he chuckled. “I wish I had time for a good long chat, but I’ve a lecture in half an hour. I just wanted to bring you up to date on Paulette.”
“Is there news? I keep checking the local paper, but there hasn’t been anything there and I haven’t seen anyone to ask.”
“There is news, but you can’t repeat any of what I’m going to tell you, not even to Shelly,” he said.
“I won’t,” she agreed quickly.
Daniel sighed. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but I feel that your help was instrumental in working out what was going on. I think you have a right to know the whole story.”
“If you’re really uncomfortable with telling me, then don’t,” Fenella said quickly, earning herself a furious look from Mona.
“As long as you promise not to repeat it, I’d like to tell you the story,” he countered. “Especially since you worked out most of it yourself.”
“Paulette killed all those poor women?”
“Not exactly. She’s been talking to Mark and he’s passed along what she’s told him. I don’t know that we’ll be able to find any evidence of any of this, but for what it’s worth, I think she’s telling the truth, at least as she sees it.”
“So what happened?”
“She and her mother did find her father’s memoirs, or something like that, on his computer. She stopped her mother from reading more than a little bit, but she read everything. Mark has a copy, and from what he’s said, if it were all true, the man wouldn’t have had time to hold down a job. He claims to have slept with just about every woman he ever met.”
“Most of us were not at all interested,” Mona said.
“Paulette claims she was upset with what she read and worried about her mother’s reaction. That’s why she started playing around with her mother’s medications. She wanted to help her mother forget about what she’d seen.”
“Poor Phillipa,” Fenella exclaimed.
“Yes, she’s at Noble’s being monitored for a few days after the cocktail of drugs that her daughter had been giving her. But I’ll get back to her at the end. According to Paulette, when she met you for tea and told you all about the memoirs, hurting anyone was the furthest thing from her mind. It wasn’t until after she’d heard about Anne Marie Smathers’s accident that she did anything.”
“So Anne Marie’s death really was an accident?” Fenella asked.
“As far as we can tell, yes. Paulette said that when she heard about Anne Marie’s death, it made her happy because she knew that Anne Marie had slept with her father. Once she realized how happy she was with what fate had done, she decided to give fate a helping hand.”
“So she started killing the other women in her father’s notes,” Fenella sighed.
“She claims she didn’t kill anyone,” Daniel told her. “She says she just did little things that might cause little accidents. She seems to think that she shouldn’t be in any trouble for anything she did.”
“So what did she do?” Fenella asked, feeing confused.
“She admits that when she visited Margaret she tripped on the carpet at the top of the stairs and may have torn it a little bit. She meant to warn Margaret, but she concedes that she might have forgotten to do so.”
“Of course she’s lying,” Mona snapped.
“She also admits that when she went to visit Hannah she dropped a bottle of bath oil in the tub and that it spilled everywhere, which may have made the tub slippery. Apparently she suggested to Hannah that she might want to have a bath because she thought the bathwater would wash away the oil.”
Fenella sighed. “Those poor women. What about Melanie?”
“Ah, that’s where things fall apart a little bit for Paulette. Melanie’s brake lines were clearly cut.”
“What does she say?”
“That she was walking down the road and saw a huge tree branch under Melanie’s car. She reckons that a sharp bit on the branch must have sliced the brake line as she was trying to be helpful by removing it.”
“That would be funny if it wasn’t so awful,” Fenella said.
“Yes, I know,” Daniel replied.
“What happens next?”
“Mark is working with the doctors at Noble’s. Paulette is going to get locked away for treatment for a very long time. She’s clearly mentally unstable.”
“What will Phillipa do without her?”
“Thrive,” Mona said firmly.
“I get the feeling from what Mark has said that Phillipa is somewhat relieved. I think she always had some idea that Paulette was unbalanced, dating back to Paula’s death.”
“Did Paulette say anything about Paula?” Fenella asked.
“Again, Paulette insists that what happened to her sister was just an accident. Apparently she’d been looking after her and she accidently left a plastic bag near her sister’s head when she tucked her into bed for the night.”
Fenella and Mona both gasped.
“When she went to check on her the next morning, she found the bag on Paula’s face and took it away because she knew she’d be in trouble if her mother found it. She knew she was meant to keep plastic bags away from Paula. Allegedly, she was so worried about the bag that she forgot to check on Paula while she was removing and getting rid of the bag. An hour later, her mother found Paula dead.”
“Poor Phillipa,” Fenella said sadly.
“Mark thinks that Phillipa suspected what had happened, which was why she encouraged Paul to spend so much time with his father and why she did everything she could to keep Paulette at home with her. He also reckons that she had some suspicions about all of the accidents that were suddenly happening, but all of the drugs she was being given made it impossible for her to think clearly.”
“You said she’s in N
oble’s?”
“Yes, for another week at least. Then she’s going to go and stay with Paul for a while, I understand.”
“It’s all so awful and sad,” Fenella sighed.
“But at least Paulette has been caught and stopped,” Daniel pointed out. “Mark is pretty sure that Patricia would have been next on the list.”
“But why did she try to kill Melanie?” Fenella asked.
“According to the notes on Paul Clucas’s computer, Melanie was his daughter,” Daniel said.
“I didn’t see that coming,” Mona said. “She certainly doesn’t look anything like him. She’s the spitting image of her mother.”
“Does Phillipa know?” was Fenella’s question.
“I don’t know. Mark talked to Patricia and she’s denied it. I don’t think she’ll tell Melanie, and it’s critical that you never repeat it.”
“I won’t,” Fenella assured him.
“It could be true,” Mona said thoughtfully. “The timing would have been about right.”
“I need to get to my class,” Daniel said with a sigh. “I’m going to try to ring you a bit more often over the next month. I miss talking to you.”
“I miss you, too,” Fenella admitted.
“I really hope you’ll be able to avoid getting mixed up in any more murder investigations, at least until I get back,” he added.
Fenella bit her tongue. She would happily go for the rest of her life without getting mixed up in any more murder investigations. Somehow, though, based on recent experience, she didn’t think that was likely.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my wonderful editor, Denise.
Thanks to Linda at Tell-Tale Book Covers, who does the amazing covers for this series.
Thanks to my beta readers who help fine-tune my stories.
And thanks to my readers who keep me writing!
Friends and Frauds
An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy
Text Copyright © 2018 Diana Xarissa
Cover Copyright © 2018 Linda Boulanger – Tell Tale Book Covers
All Rights Reserved
Created with Vellum
For my friends. You know who you are!
Author’s Note
We seem to have reached the sixth book in this series very quickly. Maybe that’s because I’m having such fun writing about Fenella and Mona. I have a great many more adventures planned for them. The books don’t need to be read in order, but the characters and their relationships do change and develop throughout the series.
This series primarily uses American English, as Fenella grew up and spent most of her life in the US. When characters from the UK or the Isle of Man speak, however, they do so in British English. (At least that’s my plan. I can’t promise I don’t make mistakes.)
This is a work of fiction and all of the characters within it are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance they may bear to any real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The shops, restaurants, and other businesses mentioned in the story are also fictional creations. While the historical sites and landmarks mentioned are all real, the events that take place within them are fictional.
The Isle of Man is, of course, a real place. A UK crown dependency, this wonderful island was my home for over ten years, and I hope to return there one day.
All of my contact details are available in the back of the book. I have a fun Facebook page (Diana Xarissa), a monthly newsletter, and I can also be reached by snail mail. I really would love to hear from you!
1
“What exciting things are you doing this week?” Shelly Quirk asked her friend as they strolled together down the Douglas promenade.
“I’m seeing Doncan Quayle to talk about Mona’s estate,” Fenella Woods replied. “I’m not sure that qualifies as exciting, but it’s something that needs doing. I’m not sure why, but I’ve been putting it off.”
“I hope there’s lots more money than you think,” Shelly said. “Maybe there will be enough that you won’t feel intimidated by Donald Donaldson anymore.”
Fenella laughed. “I’m pretty sure there’s more money in Mona’s estate than I initially thought, but there isn’t enough money in the world to stop me feeling intimidated by that man.”
Shelly shook her head. “I don’t really understand why. I know he’s rich and worldly and sophisticated, but you’re smart and beautiful and you aren’t exactly poor. What is it about Donald that worries you?”
“Everything?” Fenella made the reply a question, which made Shelly laugh.
“And yet you’re having dinner with him tonight.”
“Yes, but I think I might tell him I don’t want to see him anymore after tonight,” Fenella said with a sigh. “I just don’t think our relationship is going anywhere.”
“And then there’s Daniel,” Shelly suggested.
“Who will be away for the rest of this month and part of next,” Fenella replied sadly.
“How are things between you and Peter?”
“Fine, but I think we’re just friends.”
Shelly shook her head. “Your love life isn’t going very well at the moment, is it?” she asked gently.
“It’s fine,” Fenella assured her. “I didn’t leave my old life behind because I wanted to find romance on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. I can be perfectly happy on my own.”
“Of course you can. So can I,” Shelly said firmly.
“How’s Gordon?” Fenella asked.
Shelly flushed. “He’s fine.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I still don’t know if we’re just friends, or if we’re moving towards a relationship, or what,” Shelly sighed. “John’s been gone for almost a year, and Gordon and I have been spending time together for a few months now, but I really don’t know where I stand with him.”
“So ask him.”
“I can’t. It would be awkward and awful, especially if he does just want to be friends. Besides, I don’t want to ruin our friendship. If that’s all he’s looking for, I’m okay with that, truly I am.”
“Why not just tell him exactly what you just told me?”
“It isn’t that easy. I really like him, and if I’m honest, I think I might like to try being more than friends. I’m not ready to sleep with him or anything, but I wouldn’t mind a good night kiss now and again.”
“You need to talk to the man. He can’t read your mind. He’s probably just taking things very slowly because he knows you were widowed so recently. He wouldn’t be spending as much time with you as he does if he weren’t interested.”
“Maybe he’s just lonely. He’s been on his own for years. Maybe he’s just enjoying having someone to spend time with, just as friends.”
Fenella thought about arguing further, but she was interrupted by a cacophony of barking. She turned around.
“Winston and Fiona, how lovely to see you both,” she told the large and small dogs who were straining at their leashes.
“They saw you from the opposite end of the promenade and nearly pulled my arm out of its socket trying to get to you,” Harvey Garus said with a laugh.
Fenella and Shelly both fussed over the dogs as they chatted with the elderly man who lived in the apartment building next door to their own. Fenella had looked after both dogs for a short while in June and she still felt sometimes that her apartment was too quiet without them.
“And now we must go and see Mr. Stone,” Harvey told them, referring to the local veterinarian. “They’re both having their annual checks.”
“They both look happy and healthy to me,” Fenella said. “But good luck anyway.”
She and Shelly watched as the trio walked away from them.
“Should we turn around and keep going or just walk home?” Shelly asked after a moment.
“Let’s keep going. I need the exercise,” Fenella replied. “I’ve put on five pounds since I moved here and I’m sure I’ll put on more if I don’t start b
eing more careful.”
“Five pounds doesn’t seem very much. You’ve been here for over six months. That’s less than a pound a month.”
“That’s why I want to get it off now, before it takes up permanent residence. I’d hate to find that Mona’s clothes stop fitting.”
Fenella had moved to the Isle of Man in March when she’d learned that she’d inherited her Aunt Mona’s estate. The gorgeous apartment that she now owned had also come with a wardrobe full of her aunt’s fabulous clothes. So far, everything Fenella had tried from the collection had fitted her perfectly.
“That would be awful,” Shelly agreed. “I still can’t believe the three dresses you’ve given me from her collection actually fit me. Mona and I were rather different sizes.”
“I’m just glad you found a few things that you liked in the wardrobe. There’s far too much in there for me to ever wear. I’m starting to think that Mona never wore the same outfit twice.”
Shelly looked thoughtful for a minute. “You may be right. She always looked so fabulous that I rarely noticed exactly what she was wearing, but now that you mention it, I don’t recall ever seeing her in the same outfit twice.”
“It looks as if it might rain,” Fenella said a moment later as dark clouds began to drift into view.
“It wasn’t meant to rain today. But what shall we talk about now? We’ve talked too much about Gordon. Let’s talk about the men in your life.”
Fenella laughed. “We talked about them quite enough earlier,” she said firmly. “I don’t know that any of them actually qualify as men in my life, anyway.”
“Donald would very much like to be the only man in your life,” Shelly suggested.
“Well, that isn’t going to happen. Like I said, tonight I’m probably going to tell him that I don’t think we should keep seeing one another.”
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