Their…what?
She stopped abruptly. Two men, both with longish dark hair. But where their faces should be…it didn’t make sense. They were misshapen. Her brain struggled to frame what her eyes saw. They turned.
Masks. Nothing more than scary Halloween masks.
Neither man moved.
And Charlotte couldn’t. Her legs were frozen in place. Her mouth opened but nothing came out.
One man stepped her way and she instinctively backed off the grass verge onto the road as a car approached.
The other man grabbed the first man’s arm. “Leave it, Darro.”
They took off away from the bookshop, pulling off their masks as they ran.
“Wait!” Charlotte found her voice and her legs and sprinted after them. “Come back. I need to ask you questions.”
They disappeared around a corner and she halted, panting. What on earth was she doing chasing them? The car that had scared them off pulled up alongside and a window wound down.
“Are you okay?” It was a young woman. “Do you need a lift?”
“No. I mean, yes, I’m fine thanks. I live here.”
“If you’re sure.” The car left before Charlotte could ask what they saw. If they’d seen the masks, then she had witnesses.
To what? Charlotte hurried upstairs and locked herself in. She should be calling the police. But she knew what would happen. Sid Browne would come calling and make sure her concerns didn’t make it past him. She wasn’t about to have that man anywhere near her.
Somehow, she had to find Darro and his friend and discover what was going on. And she had to do it on her own. Rosie didn’t need to be frightened.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Grey skies and steady rain greeted Charlotte when she finally woke. Dreams had filled her night. People staring at her through the bookshop window. Just staring. And then a dream that had reoccurred her whole life and always woke her in frozen fear, when a simple walk along a street turned to nightmare as lights went off and breathing behind her closed in.
She’d not had that particular dream for a while and it unnerved Charlotte. It came when she struggled with controlling her environment and was a reminder to take a step back. Except she couldn’t. Not from the sinister behaviour of too many people in this town.
With a stronger than normal coffee, Charlotte checked on the tree on the balcony. It was one little thing that made her happy, seeing it recover a bit more each day. She was sure it was growing now, the tips of its branches green and healthy.
“One day, I’ll find the perfect place and plant you. Would you like that?”
Now she was talking to trees. It made sense though. She always told her patients to verbalise their fears and worries, or at least write them down. Instead of keeping them in an endless cycle of increasing concern, this was a simple and effective way to manage them.
“Doctor heal thyself. Okay, tree, I have a problem.” She sipped coffee for a while. The rain was slowing. Humid air promised more rain or a storm.
“I think someone is trying to scare me. Or Rosie.” Time to have some tree-therapy. “Sid was very interested in the bookshop last night, then our thieves—alleged or not—did the same. But you may have noticed they went a step further and used masks.”
The tree moved a little as a breeze picked up.
“Absolutely. I agree they might have used them to protect their identity. But why were they even there? Did someone know I was heading back?”
A shiver ran up her spine. If she was being watched, why? Was Sid so determined to uncover her past that he’d stoop to this? She’d need to leave Kingfisher Falls. Charlotte’s fingers reached for the bracelet. Was there no place she could be free of the bad decisions she’d made and have a chance to start over?
Before the panic swept through her body, Charlotte stood. There was no reason to believe Sid was doing more than bluffing. Intimidating a woman who’d stood up to him. Whatever was going on in town was not of her doing, nor would she stand by and let good people be hurt. She should call Trev. Ask him some hypothetical questions.
He’ll drop everything to get here and fix it.
She sighed. This was a new predicament. Not being able to speak to police about crimes, scare tactics, and goodness knows what else. When the only police officer in town was in the middle of it, what was she to do? Rosie’s call to the general police line wasn’t exactly taken seriously, or if it was, had been explained away by Sid. And Trev had no jurisdiction here, just a mother he’d needlessly worry about if Charlotte said anything.
Today, she’d take control. No more frightening dreams if she faced things head on.
“You do look so tired, darling.” Rosie peered over the top of her glasses as Charlotte set down two takeaway coffees on the counter. “I feel terrible putting you through so much.”
“I love it. The customers are fun, and I enjoy making everything look nice. Even sweeping out the front makes me feel like I…well, belong here.”
“Well, you do belong here and I, for one, am very happy to know you.”
Not if you really knew me.
Charlotte felt her lips tighten and tried to smile, managing a small one. She needed to fulfil her earlier resolve. Face the fears, deal with the problems.
“But we are almost there. Apart from today, we only have three shopping days. I had considered opening on Sunday, but we both need time to prepare for our own Christmas day, don’t we?” Rosie’s smile held a question.
“If you still would like me to come for Christmas—”
“Yes! Oh, goodie! The cats will be delighted.” Rosie clapped her hands. “The forecast is for a hot day, so let’s make it dinner?”
“The cats? Sure, I’m hoping they know how to cook?”
“Funny.”
“What shall I bring?”
“Nothing.”
“Not happening. Let me know by Sunday and I’ll go shopping.”
Customers came in, taking Rosie’s attention. Charlotte told her stomach to stop doing silly flutters. Christmas dinner with a person she liked so much was nothing to be anxious about. And now she had an even better gift idea. There must be somewhere around here that sold pet toys.
“Not as such,” Esther folded the emerald scarf into a box. “I think the garden centre carries a small range of pet supplies, otherwise you’d need to go to Gisborne. There’s a lovely shop there.”
“I can’t go too far until I get my windscreen repaired. Is the garden centre walking distance?”
“Yes, I’ll draw you a map. But there’s a mobile windscreen company in town.”
“Is it Ivan?”
“Yes. Did you try him?”
“I’d forgotten Rosie gave me his number.” Charlotte said.
“Call him today. I was talking to Ivan the other day and he mentioned the family is heading off to their beach house for Christmas.”
Esther drew a little map. “Here you go. About ten minutes each way. Veronica is apparently keeping it open until seven each night this week so you could easily make it after work. I imagine the bookshop is crazy busy.”
“It is. And I feel a bit guilty leaving Rosie alone but have no gifts at all yet.”
With a laugh, Esther handed over the box. “Rosie is a powerhouse. She can manage a store full of customers and take in a delivery at the same time. Probably unpack it as well. But I am thrilled she has you there. With Braden leaving to go to the city, we did wonder if she’d simply keep going on her own or sell up.”
“I’m learning so much from her.”
“From what I hear, you are an asset. How lucky was Rosie to find someone with such a lot of retail experience?”
Instead of correcting Esther, Charlotte smiled and took the box. “Thanks for the map. And this. I think Rosie will like it.”
On the way back to the bookshop, Charlotte phoned Ivan and was surprised when he said he would come around this afternoon.
The bookshop only had a couple of customers, both ch
atting to Rosie, so Charlotte dashed upstairs and left the box on the kitchen counter. She found her car keys to move the car onto the driveway, happy the rain had stopped. At least if she was busy when Ivan arrived, he wouldn’t need to wait around for her.
Her eyes lingered on the door at the back of the garage. What an interesting find the cane trunk was. If Rosie didn’t mind, she’d love to spend some time in there. How wonderful if she could reunite the owner of the contents with it. Something about the wedding dress and teddy bear with the bundle of baby clothes stirred her emotions. There was a story there.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mid-afternoon, a van pulled into the driveway. The logo across the vehicle—Kingfisher Falls Windscreens and Glass—was in bright pink, and Rosie told Charlotte to tend to Ivan.
A big man with a peaked cap, he stepped back from checking her windscreen and offered a large hand. “Afternoon, miss.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Charlotte. Or Charlie. Is it fixable?”
“Sure. No cracks appearing so no need to change the whole thing. Have it done for you in a jiffy. I’ll stick my head in when it’s done.”
True to his word, it was under half an hour later when he wandered in. Charlotte was finishing up with a customer, so he browsed. Rosie was ringing up a sale from him when Charlotte came over.
“Ivan’s donating some children’s books, Charlie.”
“That’s so kind.”
“Nah.” Ivan shuffled his feet. “Got grandkids and would hate to think another kid went without. Be nice if these made their way to little Lachie.”
“Lachie Forest?” Charlotte asked.
Ivan nodded. “He’s a good kid.”
“I met him last week. Rosie, can we make that happen?”
“Why don’t we put them to one side.” Rosie did so as she spoke. “Charlie will wrap them up and we’ll pop his name on them. Someone from the local charity group are dropping by on Saturday to collect what we have, so I’ll talk to them.”
After Charlotte paid Ivan, she put the car away, relieved to see a clear windscreen. He was at his van, packing up.
“Where’d you pick that stone up?” he asked.
“I was on the road back from the Christmas Tree farm. Went to get a little tree and of all things, got pulled over by Senior Constable Browne.”
Ivan gave her a look of disbelief. “Up there? Were you speeding?”
“Hardly. But he wanted to check my licence and while I waited, somebody hooned past and threw up a dust storm, including stones.”
“And Sid chased after them?”
Charlotte bit her bottom lip. She didn’t know Ivan. He might be Sid’s best friend. This was a time for caution. “He didn’t see what happened.”
“Humph. Didn’t care, you mean. You are very polite.”
“You don’t happen to know who owns a dark blue ute? Not all that modern, but not really old. Sorry, not good with cars.”
He chuckled. “Very descriptive. There’s a few around. Was that what did the damage?”
“Yeah.” Amongst other things.
“Let you know if I think of any.” With a tug on the front of his cap, Ivan closed the door and got into the van.
How interesting so many locals had little respect for Sid. It was as though they simply accepted that he was in charge but would do nothing. Charlotte knew if she was in Kingfisher Falls for any length of time, she’d end up reporting him for some reason or other.
“All fixed?” Rosie asked.
“He is great. And how sweet to buy those books.”
“We have a lovely community here. At least, for the most part. I’ve been thinking and wanted to ask your opinion on where we donate the money to. We’re getting quite a stash of five dollar notes now!”
Every time someone donated one of the books, Rosie took five dollars from the till and added to a locked metal box under the counter. At the end of each day, it went into the safe.
“Do you have anything in mind?”
“If it was my choice, I’d make sure it found its way to Darcy. Help with those rates.”
Charlotte grinned. “I love it. Every bit must help.”
“And he’s too proud to ask for help. All that family needs is a little bit of breathing space, and Christmas is the perfect time to give them that.”
As Charlotte wrapped the books up, a warm glow filled her. Despite the thefts and some shady characters, Kingfisher Falls had a heart of gold.
Even though the car was fixed, Charlotte elected to walk to the garden centre. If she purchased anything too large to carry, she’d collect it later. There was no sign of the earlier rain as she followed Esther’s map. It took her to the roundabout, then left and along a slightly winding road with houses on large blocks of land, some set back, and all very pretty with Christmas decorations in the gardens.
The garden centre was on a corner. Customers had to walk through the shop first. There was nobody around. A huge pile of boxed, artificial Christmas trees cluttered the entrance with a large ‘sale’ sign leaning against them.
Open roller doors at the back led to the outdoor area which stretched a long way back. Walkways went off in different directions and there were shade sails over some areas. Charlotte was curious about Veronica after the meeting that night and hoped she’d be able to observe her at work.
She heard her before seeing her. From the back of the property, Veronica’s voice screeched in an angry tirade. Charlotte followed the sound. What was noticeable was the lack of stock. A few shrubs here. A handful of roses there. Seedlings left out in the sun were almost dried out. Water gushed down the path from somewhere.
“How many times do I have to tell you the same thing?” Veronica was still yelling as Charlotte reached a large greenhouse.
Veronica, dressed in a short skirt and blouse, faced the other way, where a teenaged girl stood, face as red as her hair.
“I…I’m sorry. But they are almost dried out in here—”
“Are you telling me how to run my own business?” Veronica almost stamped her foot.
Charlotte would have been amused but the poor girl was distraught. This was no way to treat anyone and Charlotte wanted to tell the older woman off. But jumping into an unknown situation was likely to cause more grief than remedy it. She coughed.
Two sets of eyes spun to Charlotte. The girl’s expression was thankful, but Veronica’s face might have been carved from ice.
“Hi. Just looking for some gift ideas.” Charlotte made her voice friendly, as though she’d seen nothing out of the ordinary.
Veronica shook her fingers at the girl. “Leave for the day. Go.”
The girl flew past Charlotte, head down. Her heart went out for the youngster and the friendliness dropped from her voice. “Your daughter?”
“Staff. Stupid girl has no idea what she’s doing.”
Screaming at her reflects on you. Not her. Poor kid.
“You work in the bookshop. You’re the new hope for Rose.”
“New hope? I don’t understand.”
Veronica picked up the end of a running hose. She pointed it into a half-empty raised pond. “I need to turn this off.” She stalked off and Charlotte followed.
“What does new hope mean?”
“Poor old Rose can’t keep going forever now, can she? Dragging herself from home to work and back again. One wonders what the state of her house is because I’m certain she doesn’t get any help.” She leaned through bushes to find the tap.
It took all of Charlotte’s self-control not to push Veronica completely into the bushes. She practiced deep breathing until the other woman straightened.
“Oh, you’ve not been to her lovely home? You could eat off the floor there. And so welcoming.” Charlotte gazed at a pile of old pots. “Just like the bookshop. As neat as a pin.”
Veronica followed her gaze and her face hardened. “If Rose’s doing so well, why does she need you?”
“Anyway, I did mention I came to look for Chri
stmas gifts, but you don’t have very much?”
“We’ve been busy. Too busy to order, in fact. What do you want?”
“Cat toys. And perhaps something for the garden. A windchime?”
Play nice, Charlie. Works better that way.
With a dramatic sigh, Veronica was on the move again, this time toward the building. “I only have a small selection of things for pets. Not an animal lover so once they’re gone, they’re gone. But there might be some windchimes somewhere up here.”
Charlotte stopped to smell a tiny pot with a lovely white rose. Such an evocative perfume. Her hand hovered, ready to collect the pot, but she couldn’t keep collecting plants until she’d worked out what was already in the small garden behind the shop. She’d offered to maintain it and Rosie had been thrilled.
A moment later she stepped into the building and looked around. Veronica was behind a counter, reading something on her phone. She pointed to a corner without lifting her head. By now, Charlotte had no intention of giving this woman a cent, not even if she found the best gift ever.
It took less than five minutes of rummaging through a box on a shelf to find that what might have once been nice cat toys were all damp and falling apart.
Along a wall were sealed boxes. Across them, in black pen, were words such as ‘saucepans’, ‘glassware’, ‘shoes’, ‘hats’, and ‘books’. Books?
Charlotte didn’t bother searching for windchimes.
As she made for the door, Veronica suddenly looked up. “Nothing? I’ve been waiting and nothing?”
“Nothing. I’ve been looking and…well, I remembered a friend of mine can make a windchime to order. But thanks.”
Hands on hips, the fury on the other woman’s face was scary. Well, it would be for a teenager, so no wonder the poor girl had run. Surely there’d be better jobs around town?
Outside, Charlotte breathed deeply of the slightly cooler air. There were a few drops of rain and she was ready to go home via a supermarket. And she was going to ask Darcy if he’d make her a wind chime from his own timber once he had time. Something made with love and sold by an ethical person.
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