Deadly Start

by Clark Phillipa Nefri

  The door creaked as Charlotte opened it. Just inside was a light switch and thankfully the light worked. She sniffed, then coughed at the musty, and rather dusty space. The room ran the length of the back of the garage and deep enough for shelving as well as a pile of boxes at the far end. The shelves were full. Suitcases, trunks, gardening tools, lamps, what looked like old cooking pots, and so many sealed boxes. Almost at the end was a large, rectangular cane chest. This might be perfect. There were clips on either end which undid with a bit of persuasion. Charlotte lifted the lid off, expecting it to be empty.

  The sweet smell of roses and lavender wafted from red silk. Carefully, Charlotte moved it to one side. A teddy bear and bundle of baby clothes lay on top of a white dress. A wedding dress made of lace and silk, delicate and simply gorgeous.

  “Oh, who left you behind?” Charlotte brushed her fingertips across the silk. She wasn’t good with fashion, but this was perfect. And the baby clothes appeared to be handmade by someone who knew what they were doing. She adjusted the clothing and bear, covered them again with the red silk, and replaced the lid.

  She stared at the chest. There was a sense of sadness here. Something lost. But she was being silly. Of course, it was lost. Surely nobody would abandon such things.

  With a sigh, Charlotte moved to the pile of boxes and found one with only some old blankets inside. These she put on top of another box, then left, locking the door.

  Outside, she shook the box upside-down. It was clean and solid, so she left it just inside the back door, out of what was now barely more a sprinkle than rain.

  The shop was busy, so Charlotte tended to customers, gift wrapping presents, and adding to the giving box. Rosie was equally busy, and it was lunchtime before they had a chance to talk. Charlotte put the box on the counter and began covering it with Christmas paper before anyone else came in.

  “Did you know the people who used to live upstairs? Oh, can you put your finger there?” Charlotte tore strips of sticky tape off a roll. “Thanks.”

  “Well, yes. But nobody really knew them, if you get my drift. You missed a bit.”

  “This was a bakery?”

  “It was. A long time back though. This building must be eighty years old. The same family worked here for decades; it was generational. But Graeme and I moved into Kingfisher Falls thirty-five years ago. I was carrying Trev and we wanted a peaceful and safe place to raise a family. I used to come here weekly for a long time, but they were not part of the community type of people. Not the young generation.”

  “Is this okay?” Charlotte stood back from the box. The paper was festive with red bows and trees all over it. “Hope nobody thinks it is a Christmas tree and steals it.”

  “Funny. And it is lovely, so let’s put it on the floor in place of on the table.”

  Charlotte shuffled things around and tossed packing paper from the book deliveries into the bottom and then a layer of tissue paper. “That’s better, raises the books up a bit.”

  Rosie tapped the side of her chair as she thought. “There are a few people around who knew that family better than I did. Are you thinking of tracking them down to see if they want the contents of the cane box?”

  “It must mean something. The dress is gorgeous, and the baby clothes and teddy were perfect. The kind of thing you’d pass down to your children, not leave behind. Did they go in a hurry?”

  “Such a long time ago, darling. I seem to think they did. This place was for sale for a long time as a bakery. About a year. So, when Graeme and I finally got the courage to follow our passion and try our hand at small business, they were desperate to sell. I did none of the negotiations so there’s a lot I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m curious, that’s all.”

  “I’m beginning to think you are more than a bit of a sleuth. Trev told me you like mysteries.”

  “Did he now?” Charlotte kept a straight face but inside, a little flutter played in her stomach. “I’m sure I have no idea why he’d think so.”

  “Speaking of Trev,” Rosie said. “I might call him tonight to catch up. Anything you’d like me to pass on?”

  Only that he shouldn’t let you believe anything ever went on between us.

  “Yes. My thanks for introducing me to you. Kind of like it here.”

  Rosie reddened, her lips flickering up at the corners. She looked out at the street and her expression changed to serious. “You may change your mind. Here comes Glenys. But at least she’s alone today.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The stream of customers continued all day, to the point where Rosie and Charlotte ate lunch in shifts behind the counter. One after another, people commented on seeing the Facebook page, until Rosie insisted Charlotte show her. She brought it up on the computer and left Rosie to look as Charlotte helped a small group of teens.

  “Such a thoughtful gift.” Charlotte gave them change after wrapping a book. “Your grandfather will love reliving those cricketing days. How wonderful he played for the state, you must be proud!”

  She waved as they left then turned to Rosie, who was unusually quiet. The older woman discreetly pulled a tissue from the box on the counter and blew her nose. Charlotte watched her. Were those tears on her cheeks?

  “Rosie?”

  “Well, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen my shop in this light before.” She pointed at the screen, to a panorama of the store from just inside the front door.

  “You don’t like it?” Charlotte was afraid to ask. Had she overstepped?

  But Rosie reached for her hand and squeezed it, still staring at the screen. “I love it. This will change things. Christmas is always busy, and January because the children need their schoolbooks not to mention the long holiday, so parents buy more to occupy their families. February is always quiet and last year the sales slowed so much across winter.”

  “I think we can change it.”

  At last Rosie looked up. Those were tears and Charlotte’s own eyes got prickly and she blinked a few times.

  “Charlotte, if anyone can change things it will be you. When Trev came to visit and you went off and sold Glenys those books, I had a feeling.”

  Before they both turned into puddles on the floor, Charlotte needed to find some balance. “Yep, Glenys will do that. And if you really want feelings, Octavia and Marguerite bring their own special brand.”

  “I know what you’re doing.” Rosie reached for her bottle of water. “I’ll stop being all mushy now. What do you make of Glenys’s visit?”

  Relieved, Charlotte went back to tidying shelves, talking over her shoulder. “She likes to gossip?”

  Rosie chortled. “Apart from that. Because she’s always been a chatterbox, but never been nasty, and I thought her comments today were bordering on insulting about the Forest family.”

  Charlotte stopped what she was doing and wandered back to Rosie. “Obviously I know almost nothing about them, or her, or this town yet, but anytime a patient would tell me someone had brought it on themselves, I knew there was fear behind it.”

  “Interesting. So, Glenys starting off by wishing that the Christmas Tree Farm was in better state, and then that she was sad for little Lachie having to work at such a young age—”

  “Having to! Ha, he’s building an empire.”

  “He’s a smart little boy. But what started off sounding like she cared changed when she said it really was their own fault. Did you notice her tone of voice even sounded nasty?”

  “Or triumphant. Almost as though their misery takes away her fear. But what could she be afraid of from them?” Charlotte pondered. “You mentioned a bad history between the Forest and Morris families but how does Glenys fit into it?”

  “They’ve been neighbours for a while. Glenys and her poor husband—God rest his poor soul—moved in up the road from the farm a few years back. But both properties are large, so they’d not even see each other under normal circumstances. I couldn’t imagine what would make her like this.”<
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  Charlotte returned to the shelves, mentally adding Glenys to her list of Christmas tree thief suspects. Except her name wasn’t Darro and she wasn’t male.

  Just on closing time, the blare of sirens filled the shop. Rosie and Charlotte hurried to the window as Sid’s patrol car hurtled past, lights flashing, in the direction of the reserve.

  “That can’t be good.” Rosie said. “I hope nobody fell down the steps to the falls again.”

  “Again?”

  “There’s been a few instances where people slipped and fell. The path is fine, but those steps haven’t been maintained in years. I can never go further than the lookout because the ramp that runs alongside the steps has deteriorated so badly.”

  “Do you go to the lookout often?”

  “A few times a year. It is such a restful spot. You should go there. It is nice in the early evening when all the birds are out and sometimes, if you are very lucky, a Kingfisher appears.”

  “A real one?”

  Rosie smiled. “Yes. A real Azure Kingfisher, also known as Alcedo azurea. They’re endangered in the region, even here in the town named after the species.”

  “Well, I shall have to spend some more time visiting the falls and watching quietly.”

  “More time?”

  “I haven’t been all the way down.” Her stomach tensed.

  Stop giving things away.

  “Well, you should. Take a camera and a blanket to sit on.”

  “Sounds good.” Charlotte busied herself in the window, replenishing some books they’d sold out of before the latest delivery had arrived. The friendliness and genuine warmth that was Rosie made her do and say things she didn’t plan on. Too much sharing was the best way to damage a relationship.

  “Oh! Do you hear that, Charlie? Sounds like a car chase.” Rosie left the window to push herself outside and Charlotte sprinted after her.

  “Rosie! Stay back from the kerb!” The roar of a car engine grew louder, and gears crashed. A siren was behind it. Charlotte stepped between Rosie and the road. “Seriously, what if it crashes!”

  With a quick manoeuvre, Rosie backed into the doorway and Charlotte joined her, just as a dark blue ute careened around the closest corner, almost hitting another car as it skidded onto the main road. It righted itself and tore past.

  Charlotte tried to see the driver but could only glimpse a male wearing a peaked cap. The tint was so dark it was impossible to identify anyone inside. Bouncing around the tray was a Christmas tree.

  The police car was next, taking the corner only slightly less dangerously and pursuing the ute. Sid had a cigarette hanging from his lips.

  Rosie and Charlotte raced to the kerb to peer down the street. Pedestrians stopped, and other shopkeepers ran out.

  The ute barrelled through the roundabout, wheels up on the inside kerb and dirt spraying everywhere. Sid screeched to a stop as a car came through and shook his fist at the driver. By the time he got going again, the ute was out of sight, at least from the bookshop.

  “My, oh my!” Rosie’s hands waved around. “In our little town! Someone could have been killed with those two driving like maniacs!”

  Charlotte had no words. Something didn’t add up and she couldn’t pinpoint it yet. There’d been no plates on the ute, and she’d had time to look, it was the same vehicle she’d seen twice before. No, three times before. It looked exactly like the one that chipped her windscreen.

  Sid had said he didn’t see anything, despite the new chip in the glass and the cloud of dust settling on them from the speed of the ute only seconds earlier.

  “Rosie, did the ute look familiar?”

  “I’m too mad to think about it!” Rosie wheeled back inside with short, jerky movements of the chair.

  Charlotte wanted to reach out and help but didn’t know how to without offending the very capable woman in it. She trailed behind and went straight to the kitchen. “I’m getting us some water.” she called over her shoulder.

  She filled two glasses with ice from the freezer and then water and added a slice of lemon in each. When she carried them out, Rosie was on the phone.

  “Nobody should be racing along the streets of a shopping precinct, officer, not even in the pursuit of a murderer! And for all we know, this was simply chasing someone who’d stolen a Christmas tree.” She listened, her face red. “Yes, you heard me correctly. Some person has stolen a number of Christmas trees from Kingfisher Falls over the past few days and it would appear our designated police officer requires assistance.”

  After setting Rosie’s glass down near her, Charlotte perched on the edge of the counter. She’d never seen Rosie upset this way.

  “You may laugh but had one of those vehicles hit a person you’d be investigating a different crime. Exactly. Very well, I shall. And thank you.” Rosie hung up with more force than was required. “She laughed at me.”

  “Is she local? I got the impression Sid ran things here on his own.”

  “He does. This was a complaint line and I probably should have let it go.”

  “No. You were right. I’m pretty sure there are guidelines about pursuits in built-up areas, so Sid was in the wrong.”

  Rosie picked up her glass with both hands and sipped.

  “You’re shaking.” Charlotte pulled up her stool and lowered it, so she was on eye level with Rosie. “That was pretty scary seeing the cars at that speed.”

  “You were right about me not being out there. I couldn’t have moved fast enough if one had…” Rosie gulped.

  Charlotte took the glass and put it down, then wrapped Rosie’s hands in hers. “Nobody could. You are right to be angry about the risk Sid took in chasing the ute, but its normal to fear what might have happened.”

  Rosie licked her lips, then bit the bottom one.

  “My heartrate went through the roof as well.” Charlotte offered.

  With a sigh, Rosie retrieved her hands. “I wish I had use of my legs again. That’s all. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”

  “Well, hopefully Sid will be questioned about his poor driving and he’ll be the one feeling sorry!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Charlotte updated the Facebook page over a delicious dinner of pan-fried fish and salad. The page followers had doubled, and many people were commenting favourably about the giving box. After adding new photographs and reminding people how close it was to Christmas, Charlotte closed the laptop. She wasn’t risking a repeat of last night with unwanted emails.

  There was a tap on her door, and she froze halfway between the balcony and kitchen. Who on earth would come visiting? Before she could even call out, a folded piece of paper slid under the door. By the time she opened the door, the person was gone.

  The paper was a flyer.

  Who is stealing our Christmas Trees?

  Meeting at 8pm tonight at the fountain.

  The community wants answers.

  There was nothing else.

  It was almost eight now, but should she go? Her phone buzzed a message.

  If you didn’t get the note going around, there’s a meeting soon near the fountain. On my way there. Rosie.

  Charlotte collected her house keys and ran down the stairs. It was understandable the townsfolk would be anxious about the recent break-ins, particularly following the car chase today. Had Sid even caught the driver?

  A group of thirty or so people had gathered near the fountain. Rosie was at one side where she had a clear view of two people who had dropped a couple of crates on the ground.

  “Has it started?” Charlotte squatted beside her. “Who are they?”

  “Not yet. The man with the grey beard is Kevin Murdoch. His brother is Terrance who you met yesterday.”

  “The councillor?”

  “He’s also rumoured to be Octavia’s latest man friend.”

  This should be good.

  “The woman is Veronica somebody or other. I forget. She owns the little garden centre just out of town.”

&nb
sp; “I haven’t seen it.” Charlotte said.

  “Used to be owned by the nicest family but they moved on and she took over. She’s never been there when I’ve visited though.”

  Kevin stepped onto a crate and clapped his hands. “Right. Let’s get started.” He waited until all eyes were on him. Unlike his brother, Kevin had some hair remaining which was styled in an unfortunate comb-over. Charlotte struggled not to focus on it, rather than his face.

  “You may be aware of a recent crime spree in our town of Kingfisher Falls,” his voice boomed across the plaza. “No less than five Christmas trees have been stolen to date, including the beautiful one purchased by council at great expense, and erected on the roundabout. Three homes and Esther’s dress shop sustained damage during the robberies.”

  A few people whispered and from the sidelines, Veronica loudly shushed them.

  “Today, our ever-vigilant police office, Senior Constable Sid Morris, almost caught the alleged perpetrator of these crimes.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes.

  Ever vigilant at hassling me.

  “He was an idiot driving at that speed through town!” a woman called from the opposite side. A murmur of agreement rustled through the crowd, which was growing by the minute.

  “As I said, Sid almost apprehended the criminal but lost him somewhere on the road to the Christmas Tree farm.” Kevin said.

  “Then it must be true!” A male voice from the back.

  Charlotte couldn’t see from her position, so stood. It was Jonas, the other councillor.

  “I’ve spoken to everyone who’s had a tree stolen and guess what? Each of them replaced or plans to replace it with a tree from the Forests.”

  Kevin beckoned for Jonas to come forward and people parted to let him. He joined Kevin on a crate.

  “Don’t you all think it a bit suspicious that one business is profiting from all this misery?” Jonas asked. “At this time of year nobody has time to run into the next town to buy another tree, even if any decent ones are left. So, who are they going to turn to?”