Aunt Bessie's Holiday (27 page)

The weather hadn’t improved, but Bessie
struggled into her waterproofs and went out for her walk anyway.
 
She kept it short, just a quick circle
of the smaller of the two lakes, and returned back to her cabin without seeing
another person who’d ventured outside in the miserable weather.
 
After hanging her things up to dry, she decided
she might as well work on another book.
 
Before she got settled in, though, her mobile rang.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m on
my way,” John told her when she answered.
 
“I should be with you around midday if everything goes well.”

“Ring my mobile when you arrive at the park
and I’ll let you know where I am,” Bessie suggested.
 
“I have a watercolour class at one
o’clock, so I’ll probably be getting some lunch around midday.”

Bessie had barely disconnected when someone
knocked on the front door.
 
She
crossed to the door, wondering who had braved the rain.
 
When she pulled the door open, she could
only stare at Doona for a moment.

“I’m getting rather wet,” Doona said as
Bessie gaped at her.

“Oh, goodness, but do come in,” Bessie said,
stepping backwards to let her friend through the door.
 

“My keys are somewhere in the bottom of my
bag,” Doona told her.
 
“It was
raining so hard I didn’t want to open it.
 
Then I was afraid you might be out somewhere,” Doona explained.
 
She stood for a moment in the doorway,
waving to the man driving the police car that was stopped outside their
door.
 
He waved back and then drove
slowly away.

“I thought cars weren’t allowed in the
village,” Bessie said.

“Clearly they make an exception for the
police,” Doona replied.

Bessie shook her head to try to clear it and
then gave her best friend a big hug.
 
“I missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you as well,” Doona replied.
 
“Although everyone I met at the police
station was very nice and they treated me very well.”

“It still wasn’t much of a holiday, though,”
Bessie complained.

“No, but anyway, I’m back now,” Doona said
brightly.
 
“In time for the watercolour
class and the castle tour tonight.”

“Why did the inspector let you go?” Bessie
asked.
 
“Did she finally realise you
didn’t do it?”

“I think she just got rather busy with other
things,” Doona replied.

“What other things?”

“She’s arrested Lawrence Jenkins.”

“For Charles’s murder?” Bessie asked
excitedly.

“Unfortunately, no.
 
He’s been arrested for things related to
his business ventures.
 
I gather she
uncovered some evidence of fraud or money laundering or something.
 
She wouldn’t give me any details, but
she suggested that my solicitor might want to be on standby if I really did
inherit anything from Charles.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Bessie said,
frowning.

“No.
 
I suppose even if I am Charles’s heir, I won’t be inheriting millions,”
Doona said.

“But if Lawrence has been arrested, what
about Herbert Howe?”

“As far as I know, only Lawrence has been
arrested.
 
That doesn’t mean Herbert
isn’t next, of course.”

“I wonder if Andrew knows more than you do,”
Bessie said speculatively.

“Why don’t you ring him and invite him
over?” Doona suggested.

Bessie tried his mobile number, but no one
answered.

“Never mind, I’m sure we’ll all find out
more as the day goes on,” Doona said.
 
“Margaret is going to hold a press conference at five to announce the
arrest.”

“So does she also think he’s the killer?”
Bessie asked.

Doona shrugged.
 
“I think she’d like him to be.
 
It would be neat and tidy and get two
big cases off her desk at one time, but she won’t be charging him with murder
until she’s absolutely certain he did it.”

“Which means you aren’t off the hook yet,”
Bessie said with a sigh.

“No, but at least everyone will have
something else to talk about for a while,” Doona replied.

“I’m just so glad you’re back,” Bessie
exclaimed, giving her friend another hug.
 
“John’s on his way over.
 
He
should be here around midday.”

“I hope he isn’t in too much trouble for
just taking off like this,” Doona said.
 
“But it will be nice to have him here.”

“I’m not sure where he’ll stay, but we can sort
that out when he gets here.
 
What do
you want to do now?”

“Really, I’d love a long nap, but I’ll
settle for a long and very hot shower,” Doona replied.
 
“And then, when I feel properly clean
again, I’d like to get some lunch.
 
I’m starving and I feel as if I haven’t eaten anything in days.”

“We’ll go over to the Squirrel’s Drey and
you can get something from every single food court vendor,” Bessie suggested.

“Perfect,” Doona laughed.
 

Bessie sat down with her books again, in a
much happier frame of mind.
 
She
read the last few chapters of
The Murder
of Roger Ackroyd,
enjoying the story even though she knew the twist that
was coming.
 
By the time Doona was
ready for lunch, Bessie had finished with Agatha Christie and was laughing her
way through Bill Bryson.
 

“I hate to interrupt your reading, but I
need lunch,” Doona said when she walked into the small sitting room where
Bessie was curled up.
 
“Even if we
do have to fight our way through the miserable rain to get it.”

Bessie looked out the window and
frowned.
 
The rain was still coming
down heavily.
 
Bessie’s waterproofs
were still damp, but she put them on again.
 
She hadn’t bothered with an umbrella
earlier, but now she picked hers up from the small foyer.
 
“I hope it isn’t too windy for this,”
she remarked.

“Let’s hope,” Doona replied, waving her own
umbrella.
 

The wind was only light and the pair were
quickly walking single-file down the path towards the Squirrel’s Drey under
their protective covers.
 
Although
there were a few more people out and about than there had been during Bessie’s
earlier walk, the village still felt much quieter than normal.

“It’s checking in and out day,” Bessie
exclaimed as she noticed the cars that were beginning to line the side of the
roads.

“It is,” Doona agreed.
 
“Everyone who is leaving must be out
before midday and then the new arrivals can’t arrive before two.
 
I suspect it will be very quiet in the
Squirrel’s Drey.”

Doona was right.
 
The large and usually bustling food
court was almost empty.
 

“Too bad we don’t have time to go to the
pool now,” Doona commented as they studied the various food choices.
 
“We’d have the place practically to
ourselves.”

“But we have our class at one,” Bessie said.

“If we ever visit again, we’ll plan it
better,” Doona told her.
 
“And plan
to spend the whole afternoon during check-in at the pool.”

“That’s what my children are doing,” a voice
from behind them announced.

Bessie turned around and smiled.
 
“Andrew, how nice to see you again.”

“And you,” he said with a small bow.
 
“And it is especially nice to see you
again,” he said to Doona.
 
“You
don’t look too distressed after your ordeal.”

“Everyone was as pleasant as they could be
under the circumstances,” Doona replied.
 
“But the food wasn’t terrific.”

Andrew laughed.
 
“Let’s stop talking and focus on finding
you some food, then,” he suggested.

Doona quickly decided on Indian, ordering
herself enough food for two people.
 
Bessie placed her own smaller order at the same counter.
 
When they turned around with their
trays, Andrew waved from a corner table where he was sitting with a slice of
pizza and a fizzy drink.

“We tried to ring you earlier,” Bessie told
him when they’d joined him.
 
“We
were wondering if you’d heard anything about Lawrence’s arrest.”

“Only that it was going to happen,” he
replied.
 
“And that it has to do
with the business, not murder.”

“So we aren’t any closer to finding out who
killed Charles,” Bessie said with a sigh.

“I’m sure Margaret is looking even more closely
at Lawrence for it,” Andrew said.
 
“And maybe at Herbert Howe as well.”

“Speak of the devil,” Bessie muttered as
Herbert and Jessica walked into the building.

“I thought you’d been locked up for killing
Charles,” Jessica called across the room, staring hard at Doona.

Bessie glanced around, relieved to find that
there were only a handful of people in the room who might have heard Jessica’s
words.
 
None of them seemed to be
paying Jessica the slightest bit of attention.

Jessica strolled over to their table.
 
“Don’t tell me you didn’t do it?” she
demanded of Doona.

“Of course I didn’t do it,” Doona replied
angrily.
 

“But then who did?” Jessica wailed
dramatically.

“Now, now,” Herbert said as he joined
them.
 
“You mustn’t upset
yourself.
 
I’m sure Inspector
Hopkins will work it all out soon enough.”

“Have you seen Lawrence today?” Jessica
asked abruptly.

“No,” Doona replied.
 
“Should I have?”

“Maybe not,” Jessica said with a shrug.
 
“Only he was supposed to be meeting us
here and he isn’t around.”

Bessie exchanged glances with Doona.
 
Clearly news of Lawrence’s arrest hadn’t
reached the Howes yet.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Herbert
suggested to his wife.
 
“When Lawrence
gets here, he can join us.”

Jessica shrugged and turned away from Bessie
and her friends.
 
Without another
word or a backwards glance, she walked off.
 
Herbert glanced at Bessie and then
quickly followed his wife towards the food counters.

“What a thoroughly unpleasant pair,” Bessie
said when they were out of earshot.

“Ah, Doona, there you are,” a voice called
across the large space.

Bessie sighed at yet another
interruption.
 
She wanted to talk to
Andrew and spend some time with her friend.
 
She still managed a smile when Harold
joined them a moment later.

“I rang the police this morning and Margaret
told me she was letting you go,” he said to Doona.
 
“I was so pleased to hear that.
 
I wanted to talk to you about my job
here, and, well, some other things.”

Doona shook her head.
 
“I don’t think I’m the person you want
to talk to,” she said.
 

“But I heard you were inheriting Charles’s
share of the company,” Harold protested.
 
“We really must talk.”

“I don’t know that I’m inheriting anything,”
Doona replied.
 
“Let’s have this
chat after the will is read, okay?”

Harold frowned.
 
“I suppose,” he said, clearly
reluctantly.
 

Doona ignored him and began to eat her
lunch.
 
After an awkward moment, he
turned and walked away.

“You’re very popular today,” Andrew
remarked.

“Lucky me,” Doona retorted.

“And another one,” Bessie murmured as Nathan
Beck walked into the food court.
 
He
looked around the room and then headed straight for them.

“Where’s Lawrence?” he demanded, staring at
Doona.

“I haven’t seen him in days,” Doona replied,
returning the stare.

“We were supposed to meet to discuss
suppliers this morning,” Nathan told her.
 
“He never showed up.”

“I’m not sure why you think I’d know where
he was,” Doona said.

“You’re partners now, right?
 
That’s what I heard, anyway.”

“We aren’t anything of the kind,” Doona
replied sharply.
 
“I barely know the
man.”