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

Great. One minute in a new town and you’ll be arrested.

She forced her voice to be calm. “I heard the glass break and phoned the police.”

He looked her up and down. “I’m Senior Constable Sid Browne.”

Browne? Surely not.

“Nice to meet you. I am Charlotte Dean.”

“Did you say Christmas tree?” He crunched his way to the open window.

“There’s ornaments all the way along the road.”

Sid pulled a flashlight from the belt and stepped inside. “You sure nobody’s in here?”

“Not at all. I’ve told you what I saw. I’m hardly going to interfere with a crime scene by stepping all over it.”

“Crime scene.” He laughed. “Everyone’s an amateur sleuth.”

“No, but I’ve been around crime scenes and there are protocols to follow.”

“Like getting someone at this hour to clean this mess up.” He came back outside, scrolled through his phone, and dialled a number.

He turned what Charlotte decided were beady eyes on her again. She stared back. His shoulders were hairy. Funny the things one notices.

“This is Senior Constable Sid Browne. Someone’s broken into your shop, so I need you down here.” He listened, looking bored. “Instead of having a meltdown, hurry up and bring a broom. It’s a mess.” He hung up.

Charlotte knew her eyes widened.

“What is it with you females? Hysterical over nothing.”

“Right. I’ll be going home now.”

“I need your details. But I haven’t got my notebook.”

“Pity. Anyway, I work at the bookshop, so am easy to find.”

Sid crossed his arms, his face even sourer. “So, you’re the new girl. When’s Rose leaving then?”

“You’d need to ask her. Goodnight.” Charlotte walked away, not trusting herself to stay near the man for a second longer. She’d dealt with many police officers over the years through the course of her work, not only as an expert witness, but counselling people on both sides of the law. This was the first time she’d wanted to punch one.

And then there was Trev. The corners of her mouth involuntarily lifted. Rosie’s son, and the sole police officer in River’s End. And nothing like the one here.

Outside the bookshop, Charlotte stopped and glanced back. Sid still watched her.

Creepy, nasty man.

Perhaps she should stay to make sure he didn’t bully the poor woman whose shop was violated. From the alley across the road, a sound, a crunch sounded. Charlotte pulled her keys out and climbed back up the stairs.

Chapter Five

“I hope you don’t think this town is overrun with mean people.” Rosie handed books to Charlotte from the counter, where she was unpacking a delivery. “And most of the book club ladies are nice. I promise.”

“Hm. Let’s see.” Arms filled, Charlotte tried and failed to count her fingers. “The meanies so far are Mrs Morris, Mrs Browne, and Mr Browne.”

“Senior Constable Browne to you.” Rosie grinned.

“Not in tracksuit pants and singlet. He’s just good old Sid.” She glanced around to make sure they were alone. “How does he have the job instead of someone like…”

“Trev?” The smile faded and Rosie busied herself. “He’s been here a long time and finds a way to stay firmly entrenched.”

“But we’re not a country where local politics plays a role in choosing the police. Surely there’s been enough complaints to have him removed?”

“Most of us just avoid him. Once you’ve put these on the shelves, please take some money from petty cash and run over to the cakeshop. I think a selection of pastries might cheer up poor Esther.”

All morning, Rosie and Charlotte had taken turns checking outside on the progress around the boutique. Much earlier, from the safety of the balcony, tea in hand, Charlotte had seen Esther and a short, balding man that Rosie later assured her was her husband, arrive. Esther had stood on the road, hands over her mouth until her husband wrapped his arms around her. At least she’d had another person there to keep Sid off her back.

As a glass company installed a new window, a car with a security logo had arrived. Once it left, Rosie said it was time to offer some sympathy and comfort.

“I’m okay to stay here if you’d like to go, Rosie.”

“Actually, that would be good, if you’re sure?”

Of course, the minute Rosie left, customers filled the shop. Charlotte darted between people with a word here, a book recommendation there, checking everyone was fine before starting over again. It was fun. Frantic but fun.

“Now, how may I assist?” Charlotte was aware of someone in the back of the shop but only reached them as they turned around. “Senior Constable Browne. And you are in the mystery and thrillers section!”

“I don’t read.”

“That’s a shame. I have a new true crime book that is heavy on procedure—”

“I’m here to discuss the break in.”

Charlotte glanced around the shop. They were alone. Even though Sid wore a police uniform now, Charlotte was uncomfortable. Something about the way he stared, the slight smirk, unnerved her.

“Happy to help, but if customers come in, I’ll need to attend to them.”

He pulled out a notebook, ran his thumb over a white-coated tongue, and flicked to a blank page. “I’ll need your full name, address, date of birth, previous address—”

“No. I’m merely a person who heard a noise and then saw a car. I am not involved with the break in. My name is Charlotte Dean, and I live upstairs.” She raised her chin, eyes steady.

“I think I’ll decide what information I want, missy.”

“I’m not going to argue with you, Senior Constable, so what questions do you have?”

Sid’s beady eyes narrowed, and his face reddened from the neck up. He snapped his notebook shut. “Don’t make an enemy of me.”

“Hello, Sid.” Rosie called from the doorway. “You look a bit hot and bothered.”

He turned to go, then paused. “I’m going to find out what your story is. Missy.” He sneered.

Charlotte kept her back straight until he was out of the shop, then she took a deep breath. She folded her arms, so Rosie wouldn’t see her hands shake. “Well, he is a charmer.”