1 Aunt Bessie Assumes (27 page)

“It means I can date lots of women and
when they start whining about wanting a commitment I’ve got the perfect excuse
to dump them,” Donny chuckled.
 
“All
men should marry young and inappropriately.”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“What’s Maeve getting out of the
relationship?” she asked curiously.

“Money, what else?” Donny told her.
 
“As long as we’re legally wed, she gets
a monthly stipend that means she doesn’t have to work.
 
Why would she rock the boat?
 
Besides, we still hook up once in a
while.
 
She’s a great girl, lots of
fun to spend time with, especially in bed.”

Bessie blushed, which made Donny
laugh.
 
“Sorry, I guess that isn’t
really an appropriate comment to make in front of an old spinster lady.”

Bessie bit her tongue.
 
The man was already planning to kill
her; she didn’t want to argue with him.
 

“Anyway, Samantha was starting to get on
my nerves, and she knew too much.
 
It was easy enough to get her fighting with Vikky so that Vikky took off
as soon as we got to the wheel.
 
Then I just had to follow Sam into the mine.
 
There wasn’t anyone else around; I was
surprised at how easy it was, actually.”

“Why did you leave Vikky’s phone with the
body?” Bessie didn’t really care, but it was another topic for discussion.
 
Hugh and Doona must be at the cottage by
now.

“That was a mistake,” Donny shrugged.
 
“I meant to leave Sam’s phone with her,
but she was taking pictures with it when I stabbed her and she dropped it.
 
I picked it up and tucked it in my
pocket while I put her body in the cart and then I grabbed the wrong phone out
of my coat.
 
Danny had Vikky’s phone
in his possession.
 
That’s how he
saw the sexy text from Jack White, and then he actually used it to record his
conversation with Jack.
 
In the
recording, Jack was dumb enough to admit that he used be my supplier before he
moved to the island.”
 

Donny shook his head.
 
“I’d happily kill him, too, if I could
get near him, just for being so stupid. The police have him wrapped up tight,
though.”

Bessie thought she heard a sound outside
the sitting room window.
 
She tried
to look towards it casually, but from where she was sitting she couldn’t see
anything but beach and sky.
 
Donny
didn’t seem to have heard anything.

“What about Vikky?” Bessie asked.
 
“How does she figure into all of this?”

“Dear, sweet Vikky,” Donny shook his
head.
 
“She really is nearly as dumb
as she seems.
 
She was dating Jack
White when I met her and I was able to tempt her away from him by suggesting
she go after Danny instead.
 
She’s
just another gold-digging slut, but Danny was too taken with her to notice.”

“And that was to your advantage?” Bessie
wondered.

“Sure, she was able to keep track of Danny
for me.
 
She was the one who let me
know that Danny was talking to lawyers about breaking the trust because of my
drug use.
 
I told her to hurry up
and marry him before the trust got broken.”

“And she did just that.”

“Yep, I’m not sure how she managed it, but
she did it, and then I killed Danny and put her in line for a nice little
inheritance.
 
Of course, my father
wasn’t going to sit back and let her collect a penny, but I sorted that out as
well.”

“Did you?”

Donny grinned nastily.
 
“Just last night I got Miss Vikky to sign
a bunch of papers rescinding any claim to Danny’s estate.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she knew she’d have a huge legal
battle on her hands if she refused.”
 
Donny held up one finger and then a
second as he counted the next reason.
 
“Because we offered her what she thinks is a generous settlement to get
her to sign.”
 
He grinned and held
up a third finger.
 
“And because she
thinks I’m going to marry her once all the dust has settled.”

“But you’re not?” Bessie kept the
questions going.

Donny shrugged.
 
“I might, you never know.
 
She isn’t bad-looking and she could be
fun, for a little while anyway.
 
I’ll have to get rid of Maeve first, though.”

Bessie shuddered as she wondered exactly
how Donny would ‘get rid’ of his first wife.
 
“Vikky doesn’t know about Maeve?”

“Nope.
 
Samantha didn’t know about her
either.
 
It’s helpful that my
parents refused to let her name be spoken in their house,” he grinned.

“So why did you push me down the steps?”
Bessie had to ask.
 

Donny shrugged.
 
“I was a little bit drunk and decided to
go out and get some fresh air,” he explained.
 
“I saw you talking with Robert and
decided to follow you, just because I could.
 
Then, when you were walking so carefully
down those slippery steps, I just couldn’t stop myself.
 
Killing gets easier and easier, you
know.
 
Especially if you start by
killing someone that you love.”

Bessie’s blood ran cold as he finished
speaking. She swallowed hard and tried, desperately, to figure out what to say
next.

“Anyway, I suppose I better get the job
done and get back home,” Donny told her, rising to his feet.
 
“I’ve really enjoyed our talk.
 
It’s been nice to have someone to talk with
about it all.”

Bessie couldn’t even begin to frame a
reply to that.
 

Donny tilted his head as he studied
her.
 
“What do you think?” he
asked.
 
He pulled a huge knife out
from his coat pocket.
 
“It’s another
one from the set that my parents bought Vikky and Danny,” he explained.
 
“It’s a really nice set and the knives
are really sharp.”

He took a step towards Bessie, twirling
the knife in his hand lightly.
 
“I
thought the police would confiscate the rest of the set after I killed Danny,
so I grabbed a couple of spares before they got to Thie yn Traie.
 
I used another on Samantha, and that
left this one for you.”

Bessie frowned.
 
“You don’t have to kill me,” she said,
surprised at how loud and shaky her voice sounded.
 

“Oh, but I do,” Donny told her with an
evil grin.
 
“The question is
,
how should I do it?
 
As nice as these knives are, I’m getting bored with them.
 
Maybe it’s time for something a little
bit different.”

“Variety is always nice,” Bessie said
inanely, struggling to keep the man talking.
 
Hugh and Doona had to be somewhere
nearby.
 
Why weren’t they
interrupting?

“I don't suppose I could persuade you to just
swallow the whole bottle of tablets that you're meant to be taking for pain?”
Donny asked her.

“I guess I'd rather do that than be stabbed.”

“Yes,” Donny frowned.  “But if we do it
that way, I'd have to sit here and wait for the tablets to work.  I've got
better things to do with my time.”

“Oh, goodness, don't let me inconvenience you,”
Bessie said crossly.  

Donny laughed, a hollow sound that seemed to
echo through Bessie's small cottage.
 

“No need to get grumpy,” Donny told her.  

Bessie just stared at him.

“You know what?” he asked Bessie as he took
another step towards her.  “I think I'll just hold a pillow over your
face.  It'll be pretty quick and if I do it right, it might even look like
natural causes.  That'd be pretty good, and it will be a lot less messy.
 Danny ruined my favourite coat.  This one doesn’t fit nearly as
well.
 
I was lucky that Sam was
wearing a raincoat herself; I was able to keep her blood off of me that time.”

“How nice for you,” Bessie muttered.

“Anyway, if I suffocate you, there won't be any
blood to worry about.”

“Then what?” Bessie asked.  “Do you just go
back to Thie yn Traie and have dinner?”

“Pretty much,” Donny shrugged.  “The police
are supposed to be letting us go tomorrow.  Once I'm off the island, I
guess I'll just take a long holiday somewhere warm and then return home once
things have died down a bit.”  

“Holiday where?”
 
Bessie struggled to keep the man
talking, expecting someone to burst in at any time.

“Oh, I don't know,” Donny waved the hand that
still held the knife.
 
“Somewhere
that I can live quietly with my millions, I guess.”

“I thought all of your money was tied up in
trusts?”

“It's complicated,” Donny admitted, “but I've no
doubt my father will be happy to fund my ‘retirement.’”  Donny made
quotation marks in the air around the word retirement, nearly dropping the
knife in the process.

“Why?”

“Because he suspects I killed Danny.
 Actually, he probably knows I did it, but he'd rather play dumb than see
his only remaining son in prison.”

Bessie shook her head.  “That doesn't make
sense,” she said.

Donny shrugged again.  “You'd have to know
my father.”

“I think I'm glad I don't,” Bessie shot back.

Donny chuckled.  “Okay, then, let's
get
this over with.  I've been away too long as it is.
 Someone might notice my absence.”

“You really don't have to kill me.
 
I won't say anything to anyone.  If
you leave me alone, you should be able to leave tomorrow.  If I turn up
dead, the police are going to start asking questions all over again and they aren't
going to let you go for ages.”

“My father has it all sorted out.  No
matter what happens in the next twenty-four hours, we're getting off this godforsaken
island tomorrow.  If they don't let us go, the police know they’ll have a
lawsuit on their hands.” 

Bessie looked desperately towards the window as
Donny advanced towards her, but she could see nothing but sea and sky.  

“This will be easier if you don't struggle.”

Donny set down the knife and picked up one of
the pillows that Doona had so thoughtfully arranged for Bessie.

“I'm not interested in making things easier,”
Bessie told the man.  

As Donny lowered the pillow, Bessie lashed out,
clawing desperately at his face and hands.

“Ouch!” Donny shouted as she dragged her nails
down one of his cheeks.
 
“Cut that
out before I get really cross,” he told Bessie.

He pushed the pillow over her face.  Bessie
tried to kick him, but her legs were tangled in the blanket that was tucked
around her.  

This was not in the plan, Bessie thought as she
struggled against the man.  Slowly, the world went dark.

Chapter Fifteen

“This is all your fault,” a loud male voice was shouting.
 “I told you this was a bad idea.”

“It isn't all my fault,” a second voice, this
one female, responded.  “You were supposed to be back here in ten
minutes.”

“I got an emergency call,” the man
answered.
 
“I had to answer it.”

“Enough.”
 
The third voice was also male.
 
It was quieter, but authoritative. “Shouting at each other isn't going
to help.”

Bessie sighed as she opened first one eye and
then the other.  She was flat on the floor in her own sitting room, with
an oxygen mask pinching into her face.  She pulled the mask off and
breathed deeply.

“Ma'am, you really should leave the mask on,” a
man wearing a white uniform and sitting next to her on the floor said.

“Nonsense,” Bessie answered.  “I'd rather
breathe sea air anytime.  Help me up, please.”

The man frowned.  “We have a doctor on his
way to check you over,” he told her.  “Apparently you had a bad fall
yesterday and now I’ve been told that today someone's tried to kill you.”
 He looked a bit incredulous as he spoke.

Bessie glared at him and struggled into a
sitting position without his help.  She looked over at Doona, Hugh and
Inspector Rockwell who were still arguing and hadn't noticed her return to
consciousness.

“I can just about understand how Doona came up
with this crazy scheme,” Rockwell was saying to Hugh, “but I can't believe that
you were foolish enough to go along with it.” 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Bessie exploded at
them.  “I went along with it as well, you know.”

“Bessie?  You're okay?”  Doona was on
the floor next to her in seconds, tears falling as she hugged her friend.
 “I would have never forgiven myself if you weren't okay,” she sobbed.

“I guess it's a good thing that I'm fine, then,”
Bessie told her.  “Now, someone needs to help me up.”

“I wouldn't advise that,” the paramedic said.

Bessie rolled her eyes at him.  Hugh and
Inspector Rockwell got on either side of Bessie and slowly brought her to her
feet.  She took a couple of cautious steps and then sank down in what used
to be her favourite chair.

“I think I'll replace this chair,” she said
softly.  She couldn’t help but feel that now it would always remind her of
Donny Pierce and his attempts to kill her.

“I'll buy you a new chair,” Doona told her.
 “It's the least I can do after putting you in all that danger.”

“Before we talk about how it all went wrong,”
Bessie said.
 
“What's happened to
Donny?”

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the
conversation.
 
A uniformed constable
standing in the doorway opened the door and allowed Dr. George Quayle to enter.

“I wasn't planning on seeing you again so soon,”
he told Bessie.  “What's this I hear about attempted murder?”

Bessie started to explain, but the man waved
away her story.  “I haven't really got time to hear it all now,” he told
Bessie apologetically.  

“Mrs. Christian is in labour and I need to get
over there.  She's insisting on another home birth and the midwife can
handle it, I'm sure, but her husband is quite excitable.  When she had her
last one, she ended up delivering the baby herself while the midwife dealt with
him.  He was so nervous that he tripped over the birthing pool and fell
and knocked himself out.  I promised the midwife I would be there this
time to keep Mr. Christian out of the way.”

Five minutes later he'd checked all of Bessie's
vital signs.
 
“Well, you don't seem
any worse for whatever happened here tonight,” he told her.  “The good
news is that you still have plenty of tablets left from yesterday's
misadventure, so I don't need to prescribe anything else.  The tablets
should be strong enough to let you sleep without any nightmares, as well.”

Bessie shivered as she thought about trying to
sleep.  Every time she closed her eyes she could see Donny Pierce looming
over her with the pillow.
 
That pillow
was something else she suddenly wanted to replace.

Doona noticed the shiver and squeezed her
hand.
 
Inspector Rockwell followed
the doctor out, talking quietly with him as they left.

When the inspector returned he smiled at Bessie.
 “Well, it looks like you're going to be just fine in spite of everything.
 I guess you’re tougher than you look.”

Bessie grinned at him.  “You bet I am.”

Hugh sank down on the couch opposite Bessie and
gave her a huge smile.  “I was so worried,” he told her.

“You need to tell me what happened,” Bessie
said.

“Tomorrow,” Inspector Rockwell insisted.
 “Dr. Quayle was quite clear that what you need now is a good night's
sleep.  We can all have breakfast together and go through the whole thing
in the morning.”

Bessie wanted to argue, but she was overcome by
a sudden wave of exhaustion.  Tomorrow would be soon enough to hear all of
the details, she decided, but there was one thing she needed to know
immediately.

“Where's Donny?” she asked.

“Locked up tightly,” Rockwell assured her.
 “He won't be able to try to hurt you again, not tonight or ever.”

Bessie stood up shakily and
gave both Hugh and the inspector quick hugs.  

“I'll see you both at
breakfast, then,” she told them.  Doona helped her make her slow progress
up the stairs.  Once she was in her nightgown and tucked into bed, Doona
brought her a tablet that Bessie took gratefully.  Dr. Quayle was right;
she slept deeply and dreamlessly, waking feeling amazingly refreshed in the
morning.

Doona was already up and
dressed and sitting by Bessie’s beside when she awoke.
 
“Good morning,” she told Bessie.
 
“Are you ready for some breakfast?”

“I’ve just realised that I
never got any dinner last night,” Bessie answered.
 
“I’m starving.”

Doona laughed and then helped
Bessie out of bed.
 
In spite of the
previous day’s events, Bessie found that she was feeling less stiff this
morning.
 
She managed to shower on
her own and only needed a minimum of assistance in getting dressed.
 
Doona still walked in front of her down
the stairs, holding tightly to Bessie’s arm.

Bessie was shocked to find
that Hugh was already up as well.
 
“What time is it?” she demanded.

“Just before seven,” Hugh
answered.
 
“Inspector Rockwell will
be here any time now so that he can get your statement.”

Doona made tea and
toast.
 
“I’d make a proper breakfast
today, if I could,” she said apologetically.
 
“Unfortunately, I didn’t think to get
eggs or bacon at the store yesterday.”

“Toast is fine,” Bessie
assured her.
 
“I told you I’m not
much of a breakfast eater.”

She changed her mind a few
minutes later when Inspector Rockwell arrived bearing bags crammed full of
muffins and pastries.
 

“This is delicious,” she said
around a mouthful of chocolate croissant.
 
“Thank you.”

“I figured it was the least I
could do,” Rockwell answered with a grin.
 
“Especially since now I have to ask you to relive everything that
happened here yesterday.”

Bessie closed her eyes and
breathed deeply.
 
“I know you need a
statement,” she told him.
 
“I’ll do
my best.”

The inspector had her start
from the time she left the hospital, slowly taking her forward until her
confrontation with Donny Pierce.
 
Bessie did her best to remember everything as clearly as she could.
 
She was interrupted the first time when
she explained Donny’s entrance.

“He was watching the cottage
and waiting for us to leave?” Doona demanded.
 
“That sneaky little, well, I don’t like
to say what he is.
 
I can’t believe
we didn’t think about that when we made our plans.
 
We thought we had at least fifteen
minutes for Bahey to tell everyone what was happening and then for the killer
to get over here.
 
If he was just
waiting for us to leave, that means he was here for a lot longer than I
realised.”

“It felt like he was here for
a very long time,” Bessie told her with a shiver.

Doona got up and gave her a
warm hug.
 
“I feel like I can never
say ‘sorry’ enough.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Bessie
insisted.
 
Doona stayed on her feet,
with her arm around Bessie as Bessie continued with her story.
 
When she got to the part where Donny
complained about the blood on his favourite coat, the inspector interrupted.

“He actually told you
that?”
 
Rockwell shook his
head.
 
“Once we had him on attempted
murder charges, we were able to get a search warrant for his suite at Thie yn
Traie in spite of his father’s connections.
 
We found the coat he must have been
wearing rolled up in a ball in the back of his closet.
 
We’re having the stains on the coat
checked out, but it sounds as if they’ll come back as a match for Danny’s blood
type.”

“Did you find anything else
interesting?” Bessie asked.

“We’ll talk about that once
you’ve finished your statement,” was all that she could get out of the man.

He didn’t interrupt again
until she mentioned how she had scratched Donny’s face when he first approached
her.
 

“That was very clever of
you,” he said.
 
“He gave me three
different excuses for how his cheek got scratched when I questioned him, but
none of them were believable.”

Doona was in tears when
Bessie finished talking.

“And to think, you could have
died,” she said sadly.
 
“It would
have been all my fault.”

“I’m fine,” Bessie
replied.
 
“Don’t fuss.”

Rockwell laughed and closed
his notebook.
 
“I guess that’s all I
need from you,” he told Bessie.
 
“I
suppose you have a few questions for us, though.”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“A lot more than a few,” she told him.

“In that case, I suggest we
get another round of tea and pastries.”

A few minutes later they were
all settled in with their second lot of breakfast.
 

“Okay,” Bessie said.
 
“Off you go.
 
Tell me what happened from where Hugh
left onwards.”

“I guess I’d better start,
then,” Hugh told her.
 
“You heard me
leave.
 
I was just going to drive straight
over and park at the cottages, but then there was a car crash on the coast road
and I got tagged to head over and help sort things out.
 
It wasn’t much more than a fender
bender, really, but one of the cars was pretty much inoperable and blocking the
road, so it took a while to sort through.
 
I guess it was probably getting close to an hour before I got back to
the cottages.
 
Doona’s car was there,
but she wasn’t, so I parked up and walked across as quickly as I could.
 
I got here just in time to see Doona and
Inspector Rockwell going in the back door.”

“My turn,” Doona picked up
the story.
 
“I followed Hugh out and
drove over to the cottages, but I took a roundabout route, stopping at the
corner store to grab a few things.
 
The whole journey took a bit longer than I expected.
 
I got caught behind a bus after the shop
and it stopped on every single corner.
 
I couldn’t get around it, either.”

Now Bessie patted Doona’s arm
as she heard the frustration in her voice.
 
“Really, it’s okay,” she assured her friend.
 
“I’m sure you did your absolute best.”

“I didn’t really rush,” Doona
said apologetically.
 
“I assumed
that Hugh would be in place and I thought we had lots of time.
 
When I got to the cottages and Hugh’s
car wasn’t there, that’s when I started to worry.”
 

Hugh got up and poured
everyone another cup of tea.
 
Doona
was obviously finding telling her story difficult and everyone welcomed the
distraction.
 
As Bessie stirred a
second spoonful of sugar into her cup, she patted Doona’s arm again.

“You really must stop blaming
yourself for what happened,” she told Doona.
 
“Firstly, I’m absolutely fine, and
secondly, if you want to blame someone, blame Donny Pierce.
 
He’s the one who turned out to be a
murderer, after all.”