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

If the Octavia’s and Marguerite’s of this world don’t like me, I’m not worried.”

“Even so, we can’t go through life with too many enemies.”

“Rosie, you’ve been so kind to me. Whatever is going on with them, whatever their problems are, we’ll deal with them. When you’re ready.”

With a slight nod, Rosie released her. River’s End suddenly felt very uncomplicated compared to the undercurrents and suspicions of the good—and not so good—people of Kingfisher Falls.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Charlotte walked home with Rosie. The afternoon had been much quieter than the morning, allowing them to catch up on cleaning and restocking. Charlotte had dashed to the bank to deposit the last few days’ takings.

There’d been no more talk about Octavia and, Rosie, although quiet, had regained her composure. When she’d asked Charlotte if she’d like to come over to visit the cats and have a drink, there was no hesitation in answering yes.

At the roundabout they stopped to stare at the fully decorated tree. It was a wonderful sight with its dark green foliage and fairy lights just visible in the still bright afternoon sunshine. “This is what a town tree should be!” Charlotte exclaimed.

“Does River’s End do this?” Rosie started off again and they crossed the road.

“No idea. I arrived early in the year and left…two weeks ago? A bit more?”

“Oh. For some reason I thought you’d lived there for much longer. So, why did you choose to move there?”

“Kind of a strange story. I’d had a patient in Brisbane who talked about the town a few times. He was the one who thought he was the rightful heir to Palmerston House.”

Rosie glanced up with her lips open in surprise. “I know some of this story but what made you want to live there? Did he describe it as somewhere particularly inviting?”

“He’d never been. And I’d had no conscious plan to end up living there.”

No. You just ran away from everything and headed south with nothing but a suitcase.

“I don’t mean to pry, darling.”

A couple approached them walking their dog and said hello to Rosie by name as they passed. The moment gave her a chance to find the right words.

“You can ask me anything, Rosie. Really, anything at all. I just can’t always answer well because there’s stuff in…well, my past, and around work and…it is complicated. About River’s End? I left a bad situation in Queensland and drove where the road took me. When I found myself in Victoria, something made me look up Palmerston House and I discovered it was a bed and breakfast near the sea. Sounded perfect.”

More people passed. Families. Older couples, hand in hand. “Good to see people feeling a bit more secure again.” Rosie commented. “I hope whoever was stealing those trees has given up, or left town. Preferably gone for good.”

They reached Rosie’s street at the same time as Sid’s patrol car drove toward them. He slowed, shooting them a glare.

“Oh, for goodness sake.” Charlotte muttered. “When will he give up this nonsense?”

There was no answer as Rosie turned the corner. When Charlotte glanced down, the other woman’s lips were tight together. Nothing changed until they reached Rosie’s house.

“I love your garden.” Charlotte smelled a flower. “What is this?”

“Freesia. Much of the garden is Graeme’s work.” Her smile was sad. “A legacy I love. Being a cottage style, many of the plants are perennial, so they die down over winter and bless me with beauty the next spring. Of course, autumn has its own share of flowers.”

She opened the front door and wheeled inside, and Charlotte followed, closing and locking it.

“Do you always lock doors? We are in a country town.” Rosie was already in the living room at the bar. “Same as last time?”

“Please. Remember I’m a city girl. My friend, Christie? She is married to a security fanatic—at least where she’s concerned, but I think some of it rubbed off on me.”

“I suppose with all the break-in’s recently, there’s merit in locking up when I’m home. I do though when I’m not here.”

Mellow appeared through a cat door in a window, running to Rosie and jumping straight onto her lap.

“Hello my sweet. Where’s your naughty brother?”

On cue, Mayhem slunk through the door, but did nothing more than acknowledge the humans were here with a twitch of his tail. Charlotte quite liked him. He had attitude.

“Here you go.” Rosie held out a glass. “This one is made in the Barossa Valley. Although best knowns for its wines, there are a couple of lovely little gin distilleries as well. Graeme and I visited several times. Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Charlotte tapped glasses. “How long were you married, if that isn’t too personal. I mean, tell me if I’m overstepping.”

Rosie’s smile was wide. “I love talking about Graeme. We married a little over forty years ago. Please, find a seat.”

The moment Charlotte took a chair, Mellow joined her, curling up on her lap.

“Oh, she does like you! Graeme and I had a wonderful life together. We travelled a lot around Australia and overseas, often so we could indulge our love of deep-sea diving.”

“Trev mentioned you used to do that. And that was where you lost your lower mobility.”

“Stupid accident.” Rosie almost gulped a mouthful, then sat for a moment, hand reached out to Mayhem, who surprisingly wandered across and allowed her to pet him. “Misjudged something and before I knew it, no feeling in my legs. Damned shame really.”

“Very big damned shame.”

“But we adjusted. Moved into this house and had it modified so I could function without too much outside assistance. Trev was young so it was hard on him, seeing his normally super-active mother relearning everything. Nobody thinks about things like the height a wheelchair has you, rather than your own legs.”

Charlotte lifted her glass. “I am in awe. To you.”

“Ha. I’ll toast, but let’s toast to us.”

“Us?”

“Yup. Two strong women against the world.”

“Two strong women, against the world.”

They downed their glasses and laughed. It felt wonderful to let go of the stress and tension of the