Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) (6 page)

“There, now, what about some tea?” she said, mostly to herself.

“Doona said you have something important to discuss with her,”
Spencer said, his tone anxious.
 
“I
hope, I mean, I’ve really been enjoying spending time with her.
 
I hope she isn’t just trying to put me
off.”

“We do have some rather important things to talk about,” Bessie
told him after she’d filled the kettle.
 
“And they really can’t wait, either, unfortunately.
 
I’m awfully sorry that you had to change
your plans for tonight, though.”

“It’s okay,” Spencer said, waving a hand.
 
“We’ve had dinner together for the last
two nights and I’m quite sure Doona is ready for a break from me.
 
I get rather too intense in
relationships.
 
I’m trying to learn
to be more relaxed, but it doesn’t come naturally to me.”

“When do you go back across?” Bessie asked, aware that the man was
only meant to be on a two-month holiday, which he was spending in the rental
cottages down the beach from Bessie.

“Early next month,” Spencer replied in a gloomy tone.
 
“I’m not looking forward to it,
either.
 
When I was a kid, I thought
living across would be wonderful, but now, having done it for fifteen-odd
years, I’m ready to come back to the island.
 
It’s the one place in the world that
truly feels like home.”

“I felt that way as well, when I came back,” Bessie told him.
 
“Even though I’d moved to the US when I
was only two.
 
When I came back here
at seventeen, the island felt like where I wanted to be.
 
Of course, if things had gone
differently, I’d have ended up back in the US, but now I can’t imagine that.”

“I can’t imagine you anywhere but here,” Spencer said.
 
“You’ve been a fixture on
Laxey
beach for as long as I can remember.”

“I know you initially moved across on a transfer for your
work.
 
Do they still need you over
there or is there a chance you could move back?”

Spencer shrugged.
 
“I
don’t actually work for that company anymore,” he told Bessie.
 
“I’m sort of between jobs at the
moment.
 
I’d been planning this
holiday for the last year and just before I was due to travel, I got made
redundant.
 
Since everything was
already paid for, I decided to come and have my holiday anyway.
 
As soon as I get back home, of course, I
shall have to start sending out my CV to all and sundry.”

“Maybe you should be looking for jobs over here,” Bessie suggested.

“I’ve thought about it,” Spencer told her.
 
“I guess I’m just dragging my feet and
trying not to think about the whole issue.
 
You’re
right,
I should be applying for jobs
here.
 
I’d love to move back, but
it’s easier to play golf and sit on the beach and pretend that I still have a
job to go back to in a few weeks.”

“Perhaps you should dust off your CV tonight, since your plans with
Doona were cancelled,” Bessie said.
 
“I can lend you a typewriter if you want to borrow one.”

Spencer laughed.
 
“I
have my laptop with me,” he told her.
 
“I should make a start.
 
Maybe Doona will take me more seriously as a suitor if I’m looking to
stay here, rather than leaving soon.”

“I’m not sure Doona is looking for a suitor,” Bessie said, choosing
her words carefully.

“I know, she’s been totally upfront with me about everything,”
Spencer said gloomily.
 
“She’s not
really looking for anything more than a friend.
 
But she’s an attractive and interesting
woman and I can’t help it.
 
I’m
really falling for her.”

Bessie sighed and poured the tea.
 
“I wish I could give you some advice,”
she told the man.
 
“But I’m the
wrong person to ask about romance.”

“I don’t believe that,” Spencer told her.
 
“You must have seen a lot of
relationships succeed or fail over the years, and you’re
Doona’s
closest friend.
 
I’m sure you could
give me great advice.
 
I’m just
probably too dumb to take it.”

“It seems to me,” Bessie began cautiously, “that you’re at
something of a crossroads in your life right now.
 
I think maybe you should focus on
figuring out what you want to do before you worry about getting another person
involved.”

Spencer nodded.
 
“You’re
right, of course,” he said.
 
He
sipped his tea and then bit into a biscuit.
 
After a moment he smiled at Bessie.

“I’m going to go back to my cottage and get to work on finding a
job,” he said.
 
“I understand the
banking industry is growing quickly on the island at the moment.
 
And I don’t need a work permit, which
might just give me a small advantage.”

“I did hear that the work permit committee is quite backed up,”
Bessie told him.
 
“It’s taking
months for them to approve permits at the moment, and some companies are
getting quite frustrated.
 
Not
needing one should be a real plus.”

“I’m not sure I can afford to buy a house back here, of course,”
Spencer said thoughtfully.
 
“I can’t
imagine I’ll make enough from the sale of my little place across to be able to
buy anything here.
 
House prices are
quite ridiculous as the moment.”

“They are quite mad,” Bessie agreed.
 
“But there are still bargains around if
you’re happy to do some renovations.”

“That’s a thought,” Spencer said.
 
He finished his tea and grabbed another
biscuit.

“I’ll just take this one for the walk back to my cottage, if you
don’t mind,” he told Bessie.

“That’s fine,” Bessie laughed.
 

“I’m quite eager to get back there now,” he said.
 
“I’m going to start working on my CV and
maybe make a few phone calls as well.
 
Maybe I can line up a few interviews before I head back home.”

“I’m afraid I don’t actually remember what you do,” Bessie said apologetically.

“I work in IT,” he told Bessie.
 
“Mostly in systems management.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“I’m
not sure I know what that is, but let me give you a few names, anyway.”

She tore a sheet of paper off the tablet she kept by the phone and
copied down the names and phone numbers of three people from her address
book.
 

“I don’t know if any of them will be able to help,” she told
Spencer.
 
“But if they can’t, they might
know someone else who can.”

“I can tell them you gave me their names?”

“Of course,” Bessie laughed.
 
“I don’t know if that will help or hurt you, but you can certainly tell
them that.”

“Ah, Aunt Bessie, thank you so much,” Spencer said, giving Bessie a
hug.
 
“This could be just the break
I need.”

“Just be sure you’re thinking of moving here because it’s what you
want,” Bessie cautioned him.
 
“Don’t
be thinking you’re moving so that you can be with Doona.
 
I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Spencer frowned.
 
“I
wish I could disagree with you, but I think you might be right.
 
I do enjoy her company, though.
 
I hope we can still go out while I’m
here and maybe, if I do move here, she’ll give me a proper chance.”

He looked at Bessie and laughed.
 
“From the look on your face, maybe not,”
he said with a shrug.
 
“Never mind,
I’m definitely wanting to move back for me, so that’s okay.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Bessie told him.

With Spencer out of the way, Bessie checked on the
lasagne
, which was bubbling away nicely in the oven.
 
She switched the oven off and left the
lasagne
in it to stay nice and warm.
 
Doona was due in about half an hour and
Bessie wasn’t sure what to do with the time.

The book she had been reading didn’t really appeal.
 
She looked out the window at the
afternoon sun shining on the beach.
 
She headed out the back door and walked to the water’s edge, barefoot.

The water was cold, the sea never really got warm, but it felt good
as it splashed against her legs.
 
She waded in a short distance and simply stood, eyes closed, and enjoyed
the feeling of the warm sun on her face and the cold water at her feet.
 

Bessie could hear excited children shouting and shrieking as they
played on the beach in front of the holiday cottages.
 
In spite of the fact that the entire
beach was a public one, for some reason the families in the cottages generally
seemed to stay right in front of their temporary homes, rather than spread out
towards the stretch of beach behind Bessie’s house.
 

After a few minutes, Bessie sat down on the large rock that was
behind her house.
 
Its base was
currently partially submerged, as the tide had only just begun going out.
 
She turned to watch the holidaymakers
for a short time before turning back to simply watch the sea.
 
So many upsetting and unsettling things
had happened in Bessie’s life recently.
 
While she used to lose herself in books, she now found more comfort in simply
sitting and watching the water.
 
She
still read a great many books each month, but the sea calmed her anxious spirit
in ways that books did not.

When she heard a car pull into the small parking area beside her
cottage, Bessie climbed down off the rock.
 
She smiled when she
recognised
Doona’s
sensible sedan.
 
Her friend was just climbing out and she
spotted Bessie as she did so.

“I brought an apple pie,” she called to Bessie after she’d shut her
car door.
 
“I hope that’s okay.”

Bessie grinned.
 
“It’s
just about perfect,” she replied.

Chapter Three

Bessie opened the door and the two friends made their way into
Bessie’s kitchen.
 
The whole room
smelled of garlic and tomato sauce.

“What did you make that smells so wonderful?” Doona asked as she
set the pie on the counter.

“It’s just a
lasagne
,” Bessie told
her.
 
“It was fairly quick and easy
and it sounded good.”

“Well, it smells amazing,”
Doona
replied.
 
“Is it ready?”

Bessie laughed.
 
“It
should be.”
 
She pulled the dish out
of the oven and put it down on the counter.
 
She could see through the clear glass of
the casserole dish that it was done.”

Doona pulled down plates and quickly set the table with
flatware.
 
“Your flowers are
beautiful,” she commented to Bessie as she did so.

“Thanks, but they’re your flowers,” Bessie told her.

“What do you mean, they’re my flowers?” Doona asked.

“Spencer dropped them off for you earlier,” Bessie explained.
 
“He’d already bought them for you for
tonight and he didn’t want them to go to waste.”

Doona sighed.
 
“You’ll
keep them, won’t you?”

“But they’re lovely,” Bessie protested.

“Yeah, so were the ones he gave me last night and the ones he gave
me the night before.
 
I understand
that he’s trying to be romantic, but there is such a thing as too much of a
good thing.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“If
you’re sure you don’t want them, I’ll happily keep them,” she told her friend.

“What did you and Spencer talk about, then?” Doona asked as Bessie
slid generous squares of
lasagne
onto plates.

“Lots of things,” Bessie said, deliberately vague.

“You’re not going to leave it at that, I hope,” Doona said with a
grin as she carried the plates to the table.

Bessie poured iced tea for them both and then carried the glasses
to the table, where she joined Doona.
 
“No, I’m not going to leave it at that,” she laughed.
 

“This is delicious,” Doona told Bessie, interrupting the
conversation about Spencer.
 
“Why is
it so much better than mine?”

Bessie shrugged.
 
“I
make my
lasagne
American-style, with cheese layers
instead of béchamel sauce,” she told Doona.
 
“That might be why it tastes different.”

Doona nodded.
 
“I like
it a lot.
 
You’ll have to give me
the recipe so I can try it at home.”

“Remind me,” Bessie said.

“I definitely will,” Doona replied, forking up another bite.
 

The pair ate silently for a moment.
 
It was only when plates were empty that
Doona restarted the conversation.

“So what did you and Spencer discuss, exactly?” she asked.

“He was telling me how he’s between jobs right now,” Bessie
replied.
 
“I encouraged him to start
job hunting here if he thinks he might want to move back.
 
There’s no point in waiting until he
gets back across and then sending applications over.
 
He’d be better off trying to get
interviews before he goes.”

“I told him that as well,” Doona said.
 
“He didn’t seem to be listening to me,
though.”

“I hope he listens to me,” Bessie answered.
 
“I gave him the contact details for a
few friends as well.
 
I don’t know
anyone who’s actually hiring at the moment, but at least it gives him a
starting point.”

Doona sighed.
 
“I’m not
sure I want him moving back here,” she said, staring down at her empty plate.

“Why not?” Bessie asked.

“He’s a really nice man,” Doona said.

“But?”

“But he isn’t right for me.
 
There just isn’t any spark.
 
I’ve gone out with him nearly every night for the past fortnight, and
try as I might, I can’t generate anything other than mild affection for him.”

“Poor Spencer,” Bessie said with a small chuckle.
 
“I hope you’ve told him that.”

“I’ve told him that, repeatedly.
 
He keeps insisting that I give it more
time, and I do enjoy his company, so I keep agreeing.
 
I was actually going to tell him tonight
that I thought we should stop seeing each other.
 
He keeps saying he understands how I
feel, but I feel like I’m giving him false hope.”

Bessie nodded.
 
“I think
you should stop seeing him,” she told her friend.
 
“He did say that you’ve been very honest
about your feelings, but he does seem to be hoping for more.
 
I think the kindest thing to do is to
stop seeing him.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow night,” Doona told Bessie.
 
“He insisted we reschedule tonight’s
meal for then.”

“I’m still rather hoping he moves back to the island,” Bessie
said.
 
“It’s always nice when good people
move back.”

“But that’s enough about Spencer,” Doona said as she served up
slices of apple pie with Bessie’s ice cream.
 
“What is this about moving into
Douglas?
 
You can’t be serious.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“No,
I’m not serious,” she assured her friend.
 
“But Bahey is worried about some strange things that have been happening
in the building she lives in and I told her I’d poke around a bit.”

“Bessie, surely you know better than to get involved in any
investigations,” Doona said, shaking her head.
 
“What would John say?”

John Rockwell, the CID inspector who ran the
Laxey
police station, was
Doona’s
boss, and was also
Bessie’s friend.
 
He valued her
insider knowledge of the island and its people, but he hated when she got
involved in police investigations.

“It isn’t a proper investigation,” Bessie protested.
 
“And nothing that’s happened would be of
any interest to the police, either.
 
There are just lots of slightly odd things happening.
 
Bahey’s
always
been a bit of a worrier anyway, and since everything that happened with the
Pierces she’s been somewhat worse.”

“What’s happening exactly?” Doona demanded.

Bessie shook her head.
 
“I forgot all about the strange man in the empty flat,” she exclaimed.

“What strange man?” Doona asked.

“We heard noises in the flat underneath
Bahey’s
and when we went down to investigate, there was a man on the floor inside the
flat.
 
I was going to ring Inspector
Corkill to see what the man had to say when the police talked to him,” Bessie
explained.

Doona quickly made a call to the station in Douglas, requesting the
information.

“They’re going to ring me back,” she told Bessie after she hung
up.
 
“In the meantime, what else is
going on?”

Bessie quickly told her friend about the handful of unusual
incidents that Bahey had described.
 
“Howard doesn’t seem to see anything odd about what’s going on,” she
added.
 
“Really, I’m just indulging
Bahey.
 
I think she’s mostly worried
about her investment.
 
Two empty
flats in the building could damage the value of the remaining properties.
 
I think she just wants me to have a look
around and reassure her that there’s a good reason why the empty flats haven’t
sold.”

“What sort of good reason?”

Bessie shrugged.
 
“Maybe
they’re both hideously decorated,” she offered. “There are a lot of reasons why
a flat or house doesn’t sell.
 
Bahey
only needs one or two to make her feel better.
 
Certainly the flat where we found the
unconscious man needed new carpeting.”

“Why didn’t she just have a look around herself?” Doona asked.

“Ah, that’s where Alan Collins comes in,” Bessie replied.
 
Doona’s
mobile
rang, interrupting them.

Bessie watched her friend’s face as Doona murmured “yes” and “uh
huh” and then “thanks,” which was nothing but frustrating.

“So, what’s happening with the man?” Bessie asked when Doona had
finished.

“No one seems to know,” Doona replied.
 
“He was treated at Noble’s and then
checked himself out without answering a single question.”

“So we don’t even know his name?” Bessie asked.

“He refused to give his name or to provide an address where he was
staying,” Doona told her.
 
“The
doctor who examined him reckons he was in his fifties somewhere and was
reasonably fit, at least until he got into a fight with someone.”

“And he wouldn’t answer questions about that, either, I suppose.”

“Nope,” Doona replied.
 
“The best guess at this point is that he’s homeless and spotted the
empty flat and decided to move in, but it’s just a guess.”

“What about the fight?”

Doona shrugged.
 
“Life
on the street is tough,” she told Bessie.
 
“There could be a dozen explanations, really.”

“It’s strange to think of people being homeless on the island.”

“It’s an old problem that never seems to go away,” Doona told
her.
 
“The Douglas Constabulary has
a small division to help deal with it, but mostly it’s down to various charitable
groups to try to help the people.”

“Why didn’t he just stay in hospital, then?
 
They would have looked after him until
he was well again.”

“Again, there could be dozens of reasons,” Doona said.
 
“But you were going to tell me about
Alan Collins,” she reminded Bessie.

“Honestly, you’d think the flat was his personally and showing it
to me was going to cost him money, the way he went on and on about it.
 
He certainly doesn’t make it easy for
people to see it, which could be why it’s just sitting on the market.”

“He seemed rather strange on the phone when he rang me,” Doona told
her.
 
“He asked a lot of questions
and I told him more than once that I didn’t think they were things that were
any of his business.”

“What did he say to that?”

“Oh, he always had a smooth excuse for why he was asking, but I
didn’t tell him everything he wanted to know, that’s for sure.”

“What did he ask, exactly?”

“First he said he just needed to verify that you were a real
person, which, of course, I was happy to do.
 
Then he asked about your home.
 
He wanted to know where it was and what
I thought it was worth.
 
Of course I
told him I have no idea what it’s worth.
 
He’s an estate agent; surely he should be able to figure that one out.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“I’ve
no idea what my cottage is worth, either,” she told Doona.
 
“As I have no intention of ever selling
it, that’s something my heirs
are
going to have worry
about, not me.”

Doona nodded.
 
“Anyway,
after that he wanted to know about your reasons for moving to Douglas.
 
As we didn’t have a chance to discuss
that, I just babbled on a bit about the convenience of being able to walk to
the shops and whatnot.
 
What should
I have said?”

“I don’t suppose it much matters,” Bessie said.
 
“I said something similar and I also
mentioned knowing people in the building.
 
I’ll make something up on Monday when I meet him.”

“He asked me what your budget was for your new flat.
 
I told him that I had no idea and that
he needed to talk about that sort of thing with you, not me.”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“I suppose I’ll need an answer to that by Monday as well.
 
He did mention that he’s going to put
the particulars of some other flats in the post to me.
 
I can’t wait to see what he sends.”

“Don’t be surprised if he sends details for some rather expensive
properties,” Doona told her.
 
“I may
have hinted that you were fairly wealthy.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“Let’s
hope he doesn’t ring my bank manager,” she said.
 
While she was able to live comfortably
and didn’t have to worry about little extravagances like books, Bessie didn’t
consider herself wealthy.