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

Last of the lights off, Charlotte rattled the front door to be certain it was locked. Sid’s police car drove past, ever so slowly, then he did a U-turn. She wasn’t about to speak to him today, not after hours and in a dark shop, so Charlotte retreated behind a bookcase, where she hoped she couldn’t be seen from the street.

He parked outside and climbed out. Sid wasn’t in a hurry. He lit a cigarette and leaned against his bonnet as he smoked, staring into the shop. Charlotte’s senses were on high alert. He tossed the still-smoking butt onto the pavement and wandered along the shopfront. For a moment he looked through the window with the Christmas tree, then took out a phone and possibly took a photo. She was too far away to be certain.

The phone returned to his pocket and he moved along the windows to the door, turning the handle then pushing on it until it creaked. Charlotte’s heart raced and she clenched her hands to keep herself still. What the hell was he up to?

At the other window he put both hands against it and peered in. His eyes seemed to be directly on Charlotte, and she held her breath. This was not normal behaviour for a police officer. Esther was right. Something was wrong in this town and it included at least some shire councillors and the only police officer in the area. A couple wandered past taking their dog for a walk and nodded to him. He nodded back. The minute they were gone, he shot back to his car and slid in.

Charlotte waited until his car was gone and then she sped out of the shop, double checking she’d locked the back door, and up her stairs. She locked the door and pulled the chain across, something she didn’t normally worry about.

From the balcony she looked for his car. He’d gone. At least out of sight.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Too tired and distracted to cook, Charlotte wandered across to Italia in the hope she’d get a table without a booking. The other night from her table at the Indian restaurant across the road, she’d seen how busy this one was.

Tonight, it was almost deserted, and she was whisked to a round table with a bright tablecloth near a window. Although there were few patrons, the kitchen was noisy and several delivery drivers with ‘Italia to Home’ on their tops waited for their bags to be packed. Behind the pass, Doug called orders and cut pizzas.

“Welcome to Italia. I’m Bronnie and will look after you this evening.” A friendly faced older woman, red hair pulled back in a bun, appeared tableside with a menu and notepad. “Would you like to order a drink first?”

“Hello, Bronnie. I’m Charlotte. Um, yes, maybe a glass of red wine.”

“We have some nice Chianti if you wish?”

“I’d like that.”

When Bronnie returned with her wine, Charlotte ordered pumpkin gnocchi, suddenly ravenous and longing for a nice meal. She was no kind of cook, not really. From a young age she’d been responsible for feeding herself and often her mother and taught herself some basics. Enough to get by.

The months she lived at Palmerston House made a difference, with Elizabeth happy to let her help with meals and teaching her little tricks. Such as knowing when fish was cooked properly, and how to make delicious wedges in the oven rather than frying them. It didn’t interest her enough to make her take lessons, but at least now she had more than the standard five or six meals she’d rotated for years.

What did interest Charlotte was people watching. Humans were such intriguing things. She missed her practice at times. Missed some of the patients she’d helped.

An elderly couple were shown to a table and then a young family to another. The couple smiled at the children and then at each, holding hands over the table. They reminded her of Thomas and Martha Blake from River’s End. They were a couple with stories to tell, and such love for each other.

“Here we are. The gnocchi is steaming hot so please give it a minute.” Bronnie set a large bowl in front of Charlotte.

“This smells lovely! Bronnie, I’m surprised it isn’t any busier. Or is this a weekday thing?”

Bronnie frowned. “No, this is a Christmas tree thief thing, I’m afraid. People don’t want to leave their houses in case they are next. Takeaway is busy, but not the restaurant. I sent home all the other waiting staff early.”

Charlotte savoured a mouthful of the wine as Bronnie went to collect menus for the other tables.

The whole town was being hurt by the people behind the thefts. Was this their objective? To frighten families and the shopkeepers for some reason?

“But why?” she murmured. “Who is benefitting?”

Sid came to mind immediately, but this was baffling because all he’d got out of it was criticism for the car chase. Maybe it was just some bored thugs with nothing better to do.

The gnocchi melted in Charlotte’s mouth. She took time to enjoy the meal and atmosphere. Doug noticed her and waved.

Deciding she was too full for dessert, Charlotte paid and thanked Bronnie for a lovely meal and service. The air was warm and there were people walking along the main street, so she went window shopping. She wanted to find something to give Rosie for Christmas and so far, had little in the way of ideas.

A couple of shops caught her interest. The first was a homeware shop. Its window was brightly lit to display shelf upon shelf of Christmas ideas. Dinner sets, vases, glassware, beautiful tea towels and lined, thick towels, and all kinds of knick-knacks. There was a row of ceramic teapots and these appealed to Charlotte. Rosie drank coffee at work but had mentioned her morning cup of tea more than once. She filed that idea away for later.

Esther’s dress shop was more than simply clothing. She sold shoes, belts,