Ring of Lies

First published as a Kindle e-book in 2011

©
Copyright 201
0
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

To my
wonderful friends
and
f
ellow
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 woul
d al
so 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 n
ot 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

G
race
Elliott
followed her husband’s coffin down the cobbled path from the church to the graveyard and tried not to s
tumble 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, a
nd guilty.

Da
niel’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
inscripti
ons faded and barely readable.
High in the branches of a gnarled yew tre
e,
a rook
cawed.
Even the angels on top of the mo
numents seemed to frown on her.

Grace straightened her shoulders and kept her eyes firmly fixed on the single wreath of yellow chrysanthemums, solidago, and eu
calyptus on top of the casket.

Apart from her he
avily pregnant best friend
,
Olivia, only half a dozen mourners clustered around the open grave.
Daniel had
many friends
and business associates
. W
here 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. Sh
e looked at the small group;
D
aniel’s business partner
, Shaun,
a
nd 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 eye
s with a crumpled handkerchief.

She didn’t
know the short, smartly dressed
middle-aged
man with the pale, square jaw.
But s
he recogni
z
ed two of Daniel’s f
riends from the local golf club
who had forsaken th
eir daily round to
attend
.

But
the person whose support she needed most of all was ab
sent.

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 i
t
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 no
w commit his body to the ground.
E
arth 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
organize
d
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 a
nd picked up a handful of earth,
allowing it to slip through he
r fingers, dusting the casket.
The
service
over,
the mourners crow
d
ed 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 a
s well as my business partner.
’

‘
Daniel…
Daniel would have been pleased that
you
remembered him
.
I
really
appreciate
d
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 tr
ouble at all.
’
Shaun leant
forward and kissed her cheek.
‘
Keep in touch.
’