1 Aunt Bessie Assumes by Diana Xarissa Page B

wants,” Samantha said grimly, turning back towards Bessie.
    “You were going to tell me
your theory on the murder,” Bessie reminded her.
    Samantha sighed.  “But
now I have to go baby-sit the grieving parents while Vikky takes my boyfriend
for a ride.”
    “I thought Donny said she
wanted to go for a walk,” Bessie said sweetly.
    Samantha laughed.  “For
an old lady, you're kind of cool,” she told Bessie.  “Meet me tomorrow
around one at the Laxey Wheel and we can chat about my theory.”
    “Oh, but.... ”   Bessie didn't get to finish.  Instead Donny
suddenly came storming down the hall towards them.
    “Come on, Samantha, I need
you,” he demanded.
    The beautiful blonde rolled
her eyes at Bessie and then said a quick goodbye.  
    “Don’t forget, the Laxey Wheel
at one,” Samantha whispered in Bessie's ear just before she followed Donny back
towards the great room.
    Bessie frowned as the pair
disappeared from view.  She wanted to hear Samantha's theory and she
didn't want to wait until tomorrow.  After a moment, she sighed and then
turned to the door.  She pulled on the coat and boots she had left at the
door and grabbed her umbrella, then she pulled the door open and looked out at
the cluster of reporters who were still hanging around at the top of the drive.
 Sighing even more deeply, she stepped outside.
    “Aunt Bessie?”  The
voice came from her left.  She turned to see one of the security guards
from earlier standing there. 
    “You probably don't remember
me,” the man said, looking at her shyly.  He grinned and Bessie suddenly
placed him.
    “Robert, Robert Clague,” she
smiled.  “Your parents ran the Laxey post office for a few years in the
eighties.  Of course I remember you.  You still have the same shy
smile that you had when you were seven.   You tried to eat your own body weight in shortbread every time you
stopped to visit me.”  
    The man laughed.  “That's
about right,” he told Bessie.  “I still remember your shortbread biscuits.
They were something special.”
    “I didn't realise you were
working for the Pierce family now,” Bessie said.
    “Oh, I'm not,” Robert corrected her.  “I work for Manxman Security
Services.  The family has hired us to help out because of what happened
yesterday.”
    Bessie nodded.  “That
makes sense.”  
    “Anyway,” Robert continued, “I'm
done for the day; how about I give you a ride home?”
    “That would be wonderful,”
Bessie couldn't help but gush a bit.  She had found the visit emotionally
draining and the thought of fighting her way through the reporters and then
walking home the long way around seemed almost too much.  
    “I haven't made shortbread
lately,” she said in an apologetic tone.   “But I'm sure I can find you something to go with a nice cup if tea when
we get there.” 
    “That sounds great,” the man
grinned.  He escorted Bessie to a newer model car with the security
company's name painted on the side.  They climbed in and Bessie was
surprised when Robert drove off in the opposite direction from the gates.
 
    “There's a service entrance
around the back,” Robert told her as the house disappeared from view.  “There
may be a few reporters out there as well, but most of them are at the main
gate.  There's more to see there.” 
    As it happened, only a single
reporter was sitting inside a stationary car just outside the service entrance
gate as they approached.  Robert tapped a code into a panel near the gate
and it slid open soundlessly.  The reporter barely looked up.
    “I guess we aren't
interesting in this car,” Robert shrugged.
    On the drive he brought
Bessie up-to-date on his parents, who were now retired and living in Blackpool.
 Over tea and biscuits he politely, but consistently, refused to answer
any questions about the Pierce family.   Bessie couldn’t even get him to admit to having formed any impressions
of any of the family members in the limited time he