Aunt Bessie Goes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 7) (13 page)

“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 starts 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.”