Friends and Frauds (An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Book 6) Page 4

  “Do you know this Marjorie she wants me to meet?”

  “I’m sure I must have met her at one event or another, but I don’t remember the name. Still, if Liz wants you to meet her, she’ll make sure it happens.”

  “I can believe that.”

  “When I first met her, maybe fifteen years ago, she was almost shy,” Donald said. “Working with Manx Cloan has energized her, though. Or maybe it’s the five children.”

  Fenella laughed. “I should think five children would have the opposite effect.”

  “Whatever, she’s one of the busiest and most productive people I know, and I admire her immensely.”

  “I can see why.”

  The pair had been standing just inside the entrance doors while they’d been talking. Now Donald sighed. “We need to mingle,” he said. “There are at least a dozen people here that will be expecting me to say hello.”

  “I won’t remember anyone’s name,” Fenella sighed.

  “It doesn’t matter in the slightest,” Donald assured her.

  In the next hour Fenella felt as if she met a hundred new people. As she’d expected, she struggled to remember names while she was speaking to people and as soon as she and Donald moved on to the next group, she forgot everything about the previous one. She was relieved when they finally reached a table with food and drinks on it.

  “We should have started here,” Donald murmured as he handed Fenella a glass of champagne. “The last hour would have been a lot easier with a few glasses of champagne inside of me.”

  “I thought you enjoyed this sort of thing,” Fenella replied. “You certainly go to a lot of similar events.”

  “I go because it’s expected of me, not necessarily because I enjoy it. If I had a choice, I’d much rather be somewhere alone with you, maybe Paris or on a cruise in the Caribbean, but you wouldn’t agree to that. At least you were willing to be here tonight.”

  “Nothing like a long night of chatting aimlessly with strangers to make Paris sound more attractive.”

  “Really? Because we could leave in the morning.”

  Fenella sighed. “No, not really. I mean, it’s very tempting, but it would be, well, I’m not sure what it would be.”

  Donald laughed lightly. “It would be an admission that we’re more than just friends,” he said softly. “It would be the beginning of a beautiful and intimate relationship that could be exactly what both of us need. It would be an amazing chance to experience everything that Paris has to offer when money is no object. It would be…”

  Fenella held up hand. “It would be more than I’m ready for,” she said, letting him hear the regret in her tone.

  “It may well be more than I’m ready for as well,” he surprised her by replying. “I’ve been on my own for a long time now and I quite enjoy my freedom. You aren’t the sort of woman with whom I can simply play games, though. Perhaps we both need time to think.”

  Fenella sipped her drink and then filled a plate with a little bit of everything that was on offer. It was all delicious, and she ate while she thought about what Donald had said. It had sounded very much like he was rethinking their relationship. Maybe she didn’t need to end things with him. Maybe he was going to end things with her.

  “Donald, I knew you’d be here somewhere,” a stunning redhead who looked no more than twenty-five said as she pulled Donald into a hug. “I miss you,” she added in a low voice that Fenella just overheard.

  “Leslie, this is Fenella Woods. Fenella, this is Leslie Grant,” Donald said.

  The woman looked Fenella up and down and then shrugged. “She’s older than your usual companions, but maybe she hasn’t had any work done yet.” Leslie leaned closer to Fenella. “Some advice from a younger woman, get it done now. The earlier you start, the better the results.”

  “I’m not interested in having work done,” Fenella said. “But thank you, anyway.”

  Leslie shrugged. “I was just trying to help. If you want to keep a man like Donald interested, you’ll have to give it some thought, though.”

  “If Donald is only interested in superficiality, he isn’t the man for me,” Fenella said sweetly.

  The other woman frowned. “That sounded like an insult.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be,” Fenella assured her.

  Leslie looked at Donald. “Is she richer than you? Is that the appeal?”

  Donald laughed, but it sounded forced. “She may be richer than I am, actually, but no, that isn’t the appeal. Fenella is, well, special in many ways.”

  “I thought I was special,” Leslie simpered.

  “You’re married,” Donald replied.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Leslie replied.

  Fenella was still wondering if it was possible that she was actually wealthier than Donald was when she noticed someone new arriving.

  “Who is that?” she asked Donald, interrupting his reply to Leslie.

  Donald turned to look where Fenella was looking. “The gentleman with Liz? I don’t believe I know him,” he replied.

  Fenella nodded, unable to take her eyes off the man who was smiling and chatting with Liz just inside the tent’s entrance. It seemed strange that a man who’d only just moved to the island had managed to get himself invited to the party, but Lance Thomas seemed quite at ease in the crowd.

  3

  Should I be worried about him?” Donald asked a moment later as Leslie walked away. “You seem mesmerized by him.”

  Fenella looked over at Donald and smiled. “Sorry about that. I met him earlier today, that’s all. He’s the man who upset Shelly.”

  “Did you tell me that he was looking for her husband?” Donald asked.

  “Yes, at least that’s what he said. He claims that he and John were childhood friends but that they’d lost touch in the last few years.”

  “He claims? You don’t believe him?”

  “I don’t know,” Fenella sighed. “Maybe I’m just suspicious of everyone. Shelly wasn’t sure either, but she said something as a test and he passed with flying colors.”

  “But you still don’t trust him.”

  “No, not at all,” Fenella admitted. “Something about him worries me and I don’t really want him around Shelly. Even if he is exactly who he claims to be, he upset Shelly quite badly.”

  “So do you want to go and talk to him or not?”

  Fenella shrugged. “Yes,” she said.

  Donald chuckled. “And women wonder why men don’t understand them.”

  “Let’s leave it for a few minutes, anyway,” Fenella said after watching Lance for a while longer. “Tell me about the people he’s talking with and then we’ll see.”

  “I’m afraid the people in that little group are all strangers to me.”

  “I thought you knew everyone on the island.”

  “Not at all. I do have a great many business connections, but beyond that I don’t actually socialize very much. Anyway, I’d be willing to wager he and his friends are all from across.”

  “All of them? He’s brought quite a few guests, then. Seems a bit rude for a man who only moved to the island today.”

  Donald raised an eyebrow. “He only moved here today? I wonder how he managed to get a spot on the guest list for tonight on such short notice. I may have to have a chat with Liz about that.”

  “And not just for himself, but for several friends as well,” Fenella pointed out.

  “Yes, the next time Liz goes past, I’ll try to catch her.”

  Fenella watched as Lance and his friends began to slowly circulate around the room. She sipped her champagne and tried to look as if she wasn’t staring at Lance as they went.

  “I was wrong. I do know one of them, but only slightly,” Donald said after a while. “And we really need to stop staring at them, I think.”

  Fenella turned back to the table full of food and selected a few more items while Donald did the same. Then the pair walked over to a quiet corner and settled into chairs. />
  “So who do you know?” Fenella asked as soon as she was sitting.

  Donald grinned at her. “Evenings with you are never boring. The shortest of the men, the very slender man in the, um, unattractive suit, he’s the one I know.”

  “It is an awful suit,” Fenella agreed after she’d worked out which was the man in question. “Why would anyone want a suit in that muddy brown color?”

  “An excellent question. Perhaps I’ll put it to Neil later.”

  “Neil?”

  “Oh, sorry. That’s his name. He’s Neil Hicks. We’ve worked together on a few small projects over the years, but it’s been, oh, at least twenty years since the last one.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  Donald laughed. “What makes you think there’s something wrong with him?”

  “If there weren’t, you’d still be working with him.”

  “Perhaps, but I wouldn’t say there was anything wrong with him, exactly. The two projects we worked on together both went well and made me money.”

  “But?”

  “But what?”

  “If they did well and made you money, why haven’t you worked together again?”

  “Perhaps the right project simply never came up again.”

  Fenella frowned at him. “There’s more to it than that, but you don’t have to tell me what it is if you don’t want to.”

  Donald shrugged. “I’m not trying to be difficult, truly I’m not.” He reached over and took her hand, leaving her temporarily unable to enjoy the food on her lap. “Let’s just say that he made me uncomfortable, shall we? The projects did well, but things weren’t always dealt with in the way that I would have preferred.”

  “Uncomfortable?”

  “I’m not suggesting that Neil was doing anything illegal or immoral or even ethically questionable, but, well, once those two projects were completed, I found I didn’t want to work with Neil again. Sometimes business decisions have to made based on gut instinct and my instinct told me not work with the man. I may have been far more successful if I’d ignored that instinct, of course.”

  “If you were any more successful, you could simply buy the entire island,” Fenella suggested.

  Donald grinned. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. But seriously, I’ve never had any reason to believe that Neil is anything other than a successful businessman. He has a great many interests in the UK and spends most of his time there. I believe he only comes back to the island occasionally because his mother is here and doesn’t want to move to London.”

  “Would he have been invited to tonight’s party?”

  “Maybe, I know Liz has been trying to include new people where possible, so maybe he was invited as part of that. He isn’t known for being especially generous, though.”

  “Perhaps he brought Lance, then.”

  “Lance?”

  “Oh, didn’t I mention his name before? He’s Lance Thomas. Apparently he grew up on the island, but moved across for university and never came back, well, not until today.” Fenella tried to casually pull her hand out from under Donald’s so that she could get back to enjoying the delicious food. He frowned slightly as she did so, but she was quick to start eating so that he would know why she’d done it. When her plate and her glass were both empty, she sighed.

  “That was delicious.”

  “The food is always good at these things,” Donald replied. “And now that you’ve eaten, we should probably mingle some more. Do you want to meet Lance and his friends or should we steer clear of them?”

  “I’m still not sure. I’d really like to speak to Liz before I speak to him, anyway.”

  “Finding her in the middle of all of this might not be easy, but we can try.”

  They got to their feet and handed their dirty plates and glasses to a passing waiter. A moment later Liz rushed through the tent.

  “The auction will be starting in ten minutes in the other marquee,” she announced loudly. “Please don’t take any food or drinks with you into the auction marquee. There are many valuable items up for auction and we don’t want to risk anything getting spilled on any of them. Besides, you’ll all want to keep your hands free for lots of bidding, right?”

  Several people chuckled lightly as Liz began to encourage everyone to move into the next tent. Fenella shrugged at Donald. “Maybe we’ll have to talk to her later,” she whispered.

  “That would probably be for the best.”

  Charity auctions like these were always somewhat boring for Fenella. She couldn’t afford to buy anything, not at the outrageous prices everything seemed to sell for, and she didn’t want Donald to buy her anything either. Tonight, however, she quickly got captivated by watching Lance and his friends.

  When the first item was announced, Lance bid twice the starting bid. A moment later one of his friends added a hundred pounds to the bidding. A few other people threw in smaller increases until the item eventually sold to one of Lance’s friends.

  “That was stupid. He’s paying nearly ten times what that’s worth,” Donald said in Fenella’s ear.

  For the next hour Lance and his friends started the bidding on every single item that was available. Between the five of them, they drove up the prices to ridiculous levels and won every single item. By the time the auction was finished, Donald was angry.

  “That may be acceptable behavior in the UK, but it isn’t here,” he grumbled to Fenella as the last item was sold for a crazy amount to Neil Hicks. “I’m always happy to see the charity making lots of money, but bidding up everything between themselves was out of order.”

  As Fenella got to her feet, she could hear similar words being muttered around the room. Meanwhile, Lance and his friends were queuing to pay for all of their purchases.

  “What are they even going to do with everything?” Fenella whispered. “Lance bought a dozen paintings. I’m not sure his apartment has that much wall space.”

  “I’ve no idea and I really don’t care,” Donald said, clearly still annoyed.

  Fenella bit her tongue as Donald headed for the bar. He’d only gone two steps when he stopped and held out his hand. “Sorry. It isn’t your fault. I’m used to coming to these things and bidding too much myself. It’s annoying to watch others do it, though. Come with me and we’ll get drinks and then find Liz.”

  Taking the offered hand, Fenella thought that a drink was exactly what she needed. She still wasn’t sure whether she wanted to speak to Lance or not, and now it seemed as if Donald definitely did not want to meet him. Fenella got another glass of champagne, while Donald opted for whiskey.

  “I know I’m driving, but not for at least another hour,” he told Fenella. “It would be rude to leave before then.”

  Fenella nodded and then sipped her drink as she surveyed the room. Liz was talking with Lance and his friends.

  “Well, that was interesting,” a voice said at her elbow.

  Fenella smiled at the stranger as Donald nodded. “I’m not sure that’s the word I would have used,” he said. “Fenella, this is Michael.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Michael said, barely glancing at Fenella. “Do you know any of the men who ruined the auction?” he asked Donald.

  “Only Neil,” Donald replied. “I’m not sure Liz would agree with your assessment, though. They must have raised a good deal more than she was expecting for Manx Cloan.”

  “Oh, yes, but it’s hard to imagine why they would be willing to pay such crazy prices for the items they bought. There’s something odd about the whole thing.” He frowned and then turned and walked away.

  “He’s not happy, then,” Fenella said softly.

  Donald chuckled. “These sorts of things are always a chance for local businessmen to show everyone else how successful they are by overpaying for things. No doubt he was hoping to impress someone in the crowd with his bidding, but Lance and his friends made that impossible.”

  “Donald, if anyone will know who those men are, it’s you
,” a female voice came from behind Fenella.

  She turned and studied the woman who was standing there. At a guess, she was around fifty, but her face barely moved as she spoke again, suggesting that she’d had a lot of cosmetic work done. “Who are they?” she demanded.

  “You know Neil,” Donald replied. “I suggest you ask him about his friends.”

  The woman shook her head very slightly. “I don’t speak to him, not after the way he behaved with Suzanna.”

  Donald shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t know any of the others.”

  The woman sighed and then spun on her incredibly high heel and strode away.

  “Who was that?” Fenella asked.

  “Oh, I am sorry. I should have introduced you. That was Annabelle Quayle-Quayle. She’s a real character, or at least she likes to think she is.”

  “Quayle-Quayle?”

  “She was a Quayle from one branch of the family and she married another Quayle from a totally different branch. It’s one of the most common surnames on the island. She insisted on hyphenating her name to honor her father and her husband in equal measure, or some such nonsense.”

  “How old is she? I mean she didn’t look very old, but she did look very, well, artificial.”

  “I believe she’s around sixty, but don’t ask her. She’d probably tell you that she’s no more than forty and be insulted if you didn’t tell her she looked even younger than that. I should have introduced you, though; she idolized Mona.”

  “Really? And what did Mona think of her?”

  “I don’t think Mona was aware of her existence,” Donald laughed. “Mona had a way of very politely ignoring people which I wish I could emulate. Annabelle wants more than anything to be just like Mona, but Mona was in a league of her own.”

  “Donald, I’m sorry you didn’t win anything,” Liz Martin said as she joined them at the bar. “I believe I’m going to be saying that to everyone for the next hour or so.”

  “It isn’t your fault. I do think some of your guests were rather rude, however,” Donald replied.

  Liz sighed. “Yes, I know. I probably should have stepped in and asked them to stop bidding after a while, but it all seemed to happen very quickly. The good news is that we raised a lot of money for Manx Cloan, of course. Anyway, you know you didn’t actually need or want any of the items up for auction. You would have just been buying them to be polite. Think of the money they’ve saved you.”