Deadly Start by Clark Nefri (summer beach reads .txt) 📕

and Doug got out, Charlotte was relieved. Only them. And on the trailer was a pine tree, so they must have been up at the Christmas Tree farm. She watched for a few minutes as Doug untied the tree and then he and Esther carried it inside. How brave to continue and not allow the thief to frighten them.

And that’s how it’s done.

Shaking her head, she wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. Hopefully there would be no more silliness in town. People had enough to do leading up to Christmas without worrying about break-ins or vandals.

This was Charlotte’s first Christmas away from Queensland, at least since she was a small child. There were some vague, fleeting memories of a sparkling tree and a red ribboned present with her name on it, but little else. Her mother’s progressive illness and refusal to treat it forced Charlotte to grow up too soon. Dad was long gone, and Mum had no interest in any kind of celebration. Besides, there was never any money so presents were restricted to those her school friends or kind neighbours gave her.

The pile of tinsel she’d bought glittered out on the table on the balcony. She’d not used it for the tree. But it would look great looping down from the windows. Charlotte grabbed some scissors, dug up some sticky tape, and scooped it up. This was her Christmas and she was going to enjoy every minute.

Chapter Ten

Charlotte went to bed happy. The living room was bright and cheerful with its tinsel, and she’d hung the remaining ornaments from the ceiling with string. It might not be much, but now she had a little touch of festive season in her heart. She read a new thriller for an hour, then slid under the sheets, knowing tomorrow was going to take every minute of concentration.

She woke at three minutes after midnight, her eyes flying open to see the time on the digital clock beside her bed. Why? It wasn’t a bad dream, nor a storm, and she couldn’t remember hearing breaking glass.

Go back to sleep.

She closed her eyes. From a distance came an odd sound. She’d heard something earlier exactly like it. A chainsaw. Eyes open again, she climbed out of bed and grabbed her dressing gown on the way to the balcony.

The sound stopped. There was no movement along the road. Esther’s shop looked fine. The Christmas tree rustled behind her and she glanced at it. Just a breeze. If it was a bit windy, perhaps a tree had come down somewhere and it was being cut up to move.

The buzz began again. It came from near the roundabout and Charlotte leaned as far over the railing as she dared. There was a lot of light there. But wasn’t that normal for an intersection? And the tree in the centre had spotlights pointed on it from memory. The chainsaw stopped.

Laughter. Male laughter and raised voices. Charlotte’s instincts went on high alert. She distinctly heard, “Pull, Darro.” Darro?

And then a long, loud crack.

Charlotte sprinted to the bedroom. In less than a minute she was dressed and running down the stairs with her keys and phone. She sped along her side of the road, close to the shop fronts to avoid being seen. But she knew something bad had happened at the roundabout. And she wasn’t about to phone Sid.

She peered around the last shop on the corner. A ute and long trailer sat partway on the roundabout. Two young men dragged pieces of the giant Christmas tree onto it. Charlotte unlocked her phone and searched for the camera. Her hands shook and it took several tries to open it.

“Hurry up, Darro.”

Whatever was going on, she needed to get evidence, so she snapped away as much as she could. The trailer had no plates and the men never turned her way, so she could only hope she’d got enough to identify them. The poor tree was in pieces, and one by one, the men threw them into the trailer. What wouldn’t fit went into the back of the ute.

The same ute from the other night.

From behind her, Charlotte heard a car approach and flattened herself in the doorway of the shop. Ahead, the ute’s engine roared and by the time the car passed her, the thieves were gone. All that remained were ornaments and a few broken branches.

This time, her phone call to the police was anonymous. Sure, they’d be able to find her if they wanted, but she had no intention of being Sid’s prime suspect. Every instinct told Charlotte to get back to her house and mind her own business.

Like you’re going to start doing that now.

She found a narrow gap between two shops and squeezed in. The roundabout was a mess with broken ornaments, discarded branches, and the ground dug up by the trailer and ute. This angle was better for photographs and Charlotte zoomed in to get more detail.

Sid arrived in the same singlet and pants from the other night. He parked where the ute was. So much for identifying the other vehicle from tyre tread. He kicked at a branch and squashed an intact ornament. Charlotte tried to switch to video mode and the phone dinged. She drew further into the gap as Sid spun around.

“Who’s there? Show yourself.”

Charlotte inched backwards, turning to her side to slide along the wall as footsteps approached. Cobwebs caught her hair and a squeal rose in her throat, but she forced it down for fear of discovery. Sid might shoot her if he found her. Who would ever look down this constricted space for a body?

“Is someone there?” A flashlight lit the entrance, then was directed toward Charlotte.

She kept moving until the gap suddenly opened to an alley and she threw herself around a corner. The light flashed where she’d just been, and Charlotte shoved her phone into a pocket and leaned against the brick wall drawing in short breaths. There was no