Pumpkins, Peril and a Paella (A Charlotte Denver Cozy Mystery Book 4)

by Bryan, Sherri

  “Hmmm, y’know, that not a bad idea.” Charlotte pushed a button and the glass window behind the driver slid down smoothly. “Um, excuse me, could you go back via All Saints church, please?”

  The driver nodded and caught her eye in the mirror. “Whatever you say, Miss. Denver.”

  When they arrived at the church, there was a large table inside the vestibule laden with floral tributes.

  “Oh no! We’d better go. I don’t want to be looking around the grounds for the ideal photo opportunity if there’s a funeral taking place. It doesn’t feel right.”

  “For goodness sake, Charlotte. You’ve as much right to be here as anyone else. We’ll just make sure we keep out of the way and keep quiet, that’s all.” Jess looked around. “Actually, are you sure there’s a funeral? There are no cars and no mourners.” She went to look at the flowers on the table and read a note on a card propped up against them. “Oh.”

  “What is it?”

  “These flowers are for Samuel Slade. It says here that they’re for a memorial service being held later this afternoon. I suppose the family are having it in lieu of a funeral because the body hasn’t been released yet.”

  They all went to admire the flowers. Charlotte hadn’t known Samuel Slade but she felt as though she wanted to pay her respects. She said a little prayer for him as she glanced over the cards, reading the touching words of tribute on them all, apart from one which she couldn’t make out.

  “You know. I really don’t feel right about this. And it’ll be getting dark soon, anyway. We’ve had a lovely day, let’s just go home and leave it at that. Really, I’d rather just go home.”

  ººººººº

  Back at the cottage, the sun had warmed the living room and Charlotte began to feel decidedly drowsy.

  She checked the time. Nathan wasn’t due back until this evening and Pippin was still with Leo. I’ll just have a quick nap.

  She looked out of the window as she plumped up a cushion. The sun was low in the sky and the sea as still as a pond. As always, the view bought a smile to her lips and made her think of her old friend, Tom. When the cottage had belonged to him, he had loved to sit in the bay window or the front garden, admiring the view and chatting to passers-by.

  She stretched out on the seat and put the cushion behind her head. As her eyelids began to close, the last thing she saw before she fell asleep was the sky beginning to darken.

  ººººººº

  Her eyes opened with a start and she sat bolt upright.

  Disorientated, it took her a while to remember where she was. It was cold and the sky was pitch black, although her phone told her it was only five-past seven.

  The connection had come to her while she’d been asleep. The writing in the notebooks she’d found under the bar, and the writing on the card at the church that she hadn’t been able to read was the same. She was almost sure of it.

  Right, I’ll go and get the book from the café and then I’ll pick up Pip. Then I’ll call Nathan. He can take me to All Saints when he gets back.

  In the glow of the streetlight, Charlotte noticed that the snow had started coming down again. Pulling on her boots, she felt the all too familiar feeling of dread creep through her.

  She didn’t know what any of this meant but she didn’t like the feeling it was giving her. If the writing was the same, then the person had a connection to Samuel Slade.

  Why would someone with a connection to Samuel Slade have left those notebooks in her café?

  And more to the point, how did they get there?

  ººººººº

  “Thanks Leo. See you soon!”

  The snow was coming down heavily now and Charlotte pedalled along carefully, Pippin snuggled into the basket on the front of her bike. The streetlights flickered, lighting her way intermittently. It’s like riding a bike at a disco, she thought.

  She got to the café at just before eight o’clock and quickly found the notebooks. As she was about to leave, she noticed that the snow globe was still out so she put it in the cupboard under the bar. She wasn’t about to break her promise to Ava.

  As soon as they got home, she gave Pippin his dinner. Grabbing a piece of carrot cake from the fridge, she took a big bite before sitting down on the couch with a magnifying glass in an attempt to decipher the scrawl on the pages in the books.

  “Looks like these are names of places, Pip, but the writing’s so awful, I really don’t know ...” Pippin looked up at the sound of her voice before continuing with his dinner.

  “Matts Maid ...Hatt ... my God, this writing is dreadful. Hatts Hom ...Hal ... Hall’s ... It’s Hall’s Hardware!”

  As she continued, it began to dawn on her what the books were. Amongst the entries she found the names Hall’s Hardware and Granville’s Haberdashery, with weekly payments of £5.00 written in the columns alongside.

  All the businesses in the books had an entry of money paid next to their name, except one.

  Next to the name A. Dibble, Fishing Tackle Supplies, all that was written, in large, shaky letters were the words ‘OUT OF SERVICE - PERMANENTLY’.

  ººººººº

  “Okay, I’m here. What’s so urgent?”

  Nathan had left work twenty minutes early following Charlotte’s call, the tone of which had left him feeling slightly uneasy.

  “Nathan, you’re never going to believe what I think I’ve got but before I can be certain, can you take me to All Saints, please?”

  Nathan looked at his watch. “Charlotte, it’s ten-to nine. On a Saturday night. Why on earth are we going to church?”

  “I’ll explain on the way, but I promise, you’re going to be really pleased with me.”

  Nathan rubbed his forehead. “Oh God, Charlotte, it’s that voice”.

  “What voice?”

  “The one that tells me I should be worried. The voice you always use when you’re meddling in things that don’t concern you. Know the one I mean?”

  “Oh, shut up.” Charlotte grinned and pinched his cheek. “Come on, let’s go.”

  ººººººº

  At the church, the evening service had just ended and parishioners were filing out to be greeted by a heavy snowfall.

  Charlotte went in search of the flowers that had been in the vestibule earlier and spied them on a marble plinth at the side of the altar.

  “Nathan,” she hissed, “they’re here.”

  Pulling the magnifying glass from her pocket and one of the books from inside her coat, she held the card from the flowers against it. “See, it’s the same writing.”

  “I have to admit, it does appear to be the same.” Nathan looked closely at the unintelligible scrawl through the glass.

  “So? D’you think my theory’s right about who the owner of the handwriting is?” Charlotte pushed the book back inside her coat.

  “Well, if the writing is the same then it certainly seems to indicate that whoever wrote it was somehow involved in Bill Slade’s protection racket. And if the writing on the card which, with the help of the magnifying glass, looks like it probably says ‘With Love from Mum’, then those books are proof that Maureen Slade had some part in it.”

  “But how d’you think they ended up in the café?”

  “No idea at the moment but I’ll do my best to find out. In the meantime, I’m going back to the station to speak to the Super and I’m going to need those notebooks, Charlotte. Believe me, if that turns out to be solid evidence against Maureen Slade, I promise you, she’s going to pay for what those business owners went through all those years ago.”

  Chapter 9

  Charlotte dropped the last of her plastic bottles into the recycling bin and continued on her morning walk with Pippin.

  They walked along the seafront, past the marina and headed towards the town centre. “I fancy a change of scenery today, Pip. Let’s start the week with a walk along the high street.”

  As they crossed the road, she caught sight of a familiar car parked in a quiet side street.
With its tacky sun strip, it was instantly recognisable as the one she’d seen Richard Slade driving.

  She cast her mind back to his suspicious behaviour and how secretive he’d appeared when he’d put the holdall in the boot of his car.

  What was it Nathan said in his appeal for witnesses? “If you see anyone behaving in a suspicious manner, please do not approach them, but call 999 immediately.”

  Charlotte thought carefully about what to do. There was no doubt that Richard Slade had been behaving suspiciously. But that was then. There was no point in calling 999 now, after the event.

  She wondered where he was and made a snap decision. Crossing the road, she walked close to the car and felt the bonnet. It was warm. Hmmm. So he’s driven here recently. At that time of the morning, there were no shops open so she guessed he was probably having breakfast somewhere in the town.

  As she walked around it she noticed that close-up, the car was even more battered than she remembered and it put her in mind of a very old mini she’d had years ago in Spain when she’d been learning to drive.

  On the second day of lessons with her dad, she’d accidentally reversed it into a low wall and from that day, the boot would close but never lock. She’d taken it to a repair shop and when they’d told her that the cost of the repair would be more than the whole car was worth, she’d decided to make do with a boot that wouldn’t lock.

  As she looked over Richard Slade’s dented vehicle she wondered if, by the remotest of possibilities, the battered boot of his battered car might also have a lock that didn’t work.

  She looked around furtively as she sidled alongside the car. I hope to God no one can see me - I’m behaving just as suspiciously as Richard Slade was.

  She desperately wanted to see if there was anything of interest in the boot and doubted she’d get a better opportunity than this to find out.

  She reckoned she had another ten minutes of darkness before the sun rose. If I’m going to do anything, I have to do it now.

  Firmly pushing the telling-off she was going to get from Nathan to the back of her mind, she walked round to the boot and pressed the button with her gloved hand. For a moment, it seemed as though the lid was jammed tight but when she wiggled the button from side to side, it suddenly popped open.

  Feeling the adrenalin starting to pump, she whispered at Pippin to sit. Keeping a watchful eye, she turned on her phone torch and lifted the lid of the boot to reveal a veritable jumble of junk and the stomach-churning stench of rotting food.

  Apart from the obligatory jack, wheel brace and red breakdown triangle, the boot contained a battered picnic hamper full of tools, a rusty petrol can, stacks of old newspapers, empty cans and bottles and remnants of leftover food in takeaway cartons and sandwich boxes.

  There must be something in here to prove how shady Richard Slade is. There must be.

  Charlotte held her breath against the smell and shuddered as she flicked away what the packaging confirmed had once been a tuna sandwich, but which was now a triangle of green mould.

  There was nothing of any interest in the boot. Nothing at all. She was too late. Richard had obviously already removed whatever it was he’d put there the other day.

  Charlotte sighed in frustration. I’m sure I’m missing something. I’m sure of it. Or maybe I got it wrong. Maybe he wasn’t hiding anything at all.

  She was about to close the boot when a thought struck her. I wonder ....

  Pushing everything to one side, she lifted the cover to look inside the cavity that housed the spare tyre. Except there was no spare tyre. Just a small black holdall in the well where it should be.

  With the memory of the rotting tuna sandwich still fresh in her mind and its stench still in her nostrils, Charlotte gingerly unzipped the holdall and peered inside.

  Her mouth dropped open when she saw the contents.

  In amongst a selection of tiny crystal ornaments and jewellery inlaid with bright stones were a quantity of Christmas tree baubles, a snow globe paperweight and a solid gold watch with a hexagonal face.

  ººººººº

  “What am I going to do with you?” Nathan spoke through a mouthful of muesli as he sat at the breakfast bar. “How many times do I have to tell you not to go poking around in stuff, Charlotte? What if you’d been hurt? Good grief, you only went out to walk the dog.”

  As delighted as Nathan was that Samuel Slade’s missing watch had possibly come to light, he was in no mood to pussyfoot around the issue with Charlotte.

  “But I wasn’t hurt, was I?” Charlotte was in no mood for a telling-off from Nathan. “Anyway, he must be the killer! Why else would he be hiding his brother’s watch in the boot of his car?

  “Give me strength.” Nathan muttered. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I’m very happy to know that a watch that might be Samuel Slade’s missing watch has turned up, but right now, there’s no proof that it’s his.

  “And even if it is, that alone is not enough to pin the murder on Richard Slade. How do we know that Samuel didn’t give the watch to his brother? Unlikely, I grant you, but we don’t know for sure.”

  “But you’re going to bring him in for questioning, right?” Charlotte’s anxiety level was on high as she pushed for an assurance from Nathan. “Okay, so you may not be certain about the watch, but I’m telling you, I’m convinced that snow globe is mine. You have to bring him in.”

  Nathan scratched his head. “Bring him in for what? Concealing cheesy paperweights? And even if I did bring him in, how am I supposed to know what’s in the boot of his car? I can hardly tell him that my fiancée just happened to break into it while she was out walking the dog, can I?

  “Look, Charlotte, as much as you want it to be, you don’t know it’s yours - he could have got it from any gift shop in town.” He looked at her troubled face and chose his words carefully.

  “The thing is, as things stand, there’s no proof that he’s even committed an offence. But by breaking into his car, you have.”

  Charlotte waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind that. And, actually, I didn’t break into it ... it was already open. And why are you taking his side? It’s too much of a coincidence that my snow globe went missing and then the exact same one turns up in his car. Especially as I’m pretty sure he was the last one to touch it and he said he liked pretty things. I bet you any money it’s mine - it’ll have my fingerprints all over it.

  “And why would he go to the trouble of keeping it hidden so secretly if he’d bought it? He wouldn’t, would he? And what about all the other stuff? Yolanda’s Christmas tree decorations and goodness knows what else he’s taken a fancy to.”

  Nathan had a feeling that Charlotte wasn’t finished yet and he was right.

  “And what about the weirdo who’s been lurking around at the back of the café?” She wagged her finger at Nathan. “It’s seriously freaking me out. And what about someone drilling into my wall? You can’t tell me that’s not an offence?

  “I’m telling you, Nathan, the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that Richard Slade’s responsible for all the snooping around.” She wrung her hands. “And I’m certain he had something to do with his brother’s murder. The guy’s weird. Please, Nathan. Will you please look into it?”

  Nathan held up his hands in submission. “Okay, okay, I’ll look into it. I’ll speak to Richard Slade later. I won’t get time until tonight, but I’ll speak to him. Okay? And for the record, I’m not taking his side I’m just pointing out the facts.”

  Charlotte was pacified. Only slightly, but she felt better knowing that Nathan was taking her concern seriously.

  ººººººº

  “Come on, Pip, let’s go.” Charlotte pulled on her bobble hat and gloves and pulled the front door shut behind her.

  For the first time in days, she felt as though a ton weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

  After Nathan’s initial reluctance to take her concerns about Richard Slade as seriously as she would have liked, she was
delighted that he’d agreed to speak to him again.

  Had he murdered his brother? Had he been the one lurking around outside the café?

  Charlotte was over the moon that at last, Nathan was on the verge of finding out the answers to these questions, and probably a whole lot more as far as Richard Slade was concerned.

  A sudden blast of wind blew snow in her eyes and she blinked against it. Unfazed and head held high Pippin trotted ahead, his new waterproof coat with its fleece lining a worthy barrier against the horizontal snow and biting wind.

  If there was one thing Charlotte hated, it was clothes for dogs but the recent drop in temperature had persuaded her to relent. In his smart new hi-vis coat, she had to admit, Pippin was quite the dog about town as he garnered admiring glances from passing dog walkers.

  At almost quarter-to nine, the sky had been dark for hours and the wind was whipping up the snow into mini-tornadoes. As it started to come down thick and fast in a sudden blizzard, the streetlights flickered before going off completely and, in the pitch black, Charlotte lost sight of Pippin at the end of the lead as he lunged forward.

  “Careful, Pip! You almost had me over!” She righted her footing and walked forward tentatively, stopping when her foot came into contact with something in her path. With the toe of her boot, she felt around the obstruction - it was big and heavy. Her heart suddenly went cold. Oh, good God, please don’t let it be a dog that’s been hit by a car.

  She bent down and tentatively reached out her hand but it was difficult to feel anything with her thick gloves on.

  She took one of them off and put out her hand, jumping back in alarm when it came into contact with cold flesh. The streetlights flickered again and her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped in horror.

  Beside a car which bore the message, ‘SPEED DEMON’ on the sun strip, Richard Slade lay on the snowy pavement, foaming at the mouth, his eyes having seen their last.