Chapter 11
1111 Words
Charlotte was too angry to continue her trip around the region and headed home. Sid had kept her for almost half an hour, checking her car from top to bottom when the breathalyser refused to give him the reading he wanted. Then, he’d sat in his car with her driver’s licence. Instead of marching up to him and demanding it back, she profiled him.
Definitely a bully, with a decent dose of narcissist. Probably insecure. Add the misogyny and superiority complex and he became a nightmare in this job. Out here, with few checks and balances, he’d run things his way.
When he’d eventually held out her licence, she’d been able to consider him with a little pity added to the mix. He needed help.
She parked in the garage, glaring at the chip in the windscreen. This was something she’d need to get fixed but at least she wouldn’t need the car for a while. That ute though. What she’d seen beneath the dust was familiar. If it was the one from the other night, then she wanted to find it. Sid saying he’d seen nothing gave a whole new element to this.
Was he part of it? Or just knew the culprit and didn’t want to do anything. Either way, he wasn’t the person for the job.
And you are?
And you are?As she lugged the tree upstairs, she grinned at herself. Charlotte Dean, Private Eye. If the bookshop didn’t work out, she could pursue the life of a private investigator. Smiling helped. Enjoying the small kick of serotonin, she grinned again.
Charlotte Dean, Private EyeAt the top of the stairs was a small landing near the door. And a box took up much of the space. Taped on top was a handwritten note.
Was delivered to us by accident. Rosie told us where to find you.
Was delivered to us by accident. Rosie told us where to find you.Charlotte took the box inside first, then returned for the little tree.
The balcony was in full sun, with only one spot dappled by the shade of a neighbouring tree. Rather than shock the poor pine, she placed it where it had both sun and shade. It was so dried out that she poured two full jugs of water into the soil before it did more than run straight through the pot.
Back downstairs, she retrieved the ornaments and tinsel.
Sid Morris was still on her mind as she let herself back in the house. She flicked the kettle on, then lay on the floor and focussed on a spot on the ceiling as it boiled. Her heartrate came down, the anger drained away, and she regulated her breathing, flicking the bracelet to focus the emotions.
Need to meditate more often, Charlie.
Need to meditate more often, Charlie.The move to Kingfisher Falls, leaving behind the friends she loved in River’s End, dealing with new challenges, all of this raised her anxiety. Which was perfectly normal. But it was time for some self-care.
She made her coffee strong and took it onto the balcony, which was quickly becoming her favourite place. From here she could sit unnoticed from the street yet watch the comings and goings of this small town. In the new year, she’d buy some new furniture for out here. Perhaps a little BBQ to cook with on warm nights. If only she could think of a way for Rosie to come upstairs, she’d have her over for dinner.
“You will come for dinner?” Rosie had asked that only yesterday. Christmas dinner wasn’t something Charlotte had often experienced. A couple of times she’d been invited to colleagues’ homes, but it had been out of pity for her being alone. She was sure of that. She’d eaten and nodded and smiled, left a generic bottle of wine and flowers, then fled the minute she was able to. Somehow, the idea of sharing a table with Rosie wasn’t as confronting. From the moment they’d met, Rosie and Charlotte clicked. Maybe she’d let Rosie know she’d be along, and even offer to come early and help.
Charlotte stared at the box. It stared back. At some point she’d need to open it, if only to discover the sender. There was nobody in her life who’d send a Christmas present. Nobody who’d know her address, that is.
Not Trev?
Not Trev?Surely, he knew better. Their relationship—if one could even call it that—was more a loose friendship. An occasional moment of laughter. Sometimes, a connection over a mystery. There she was again, back to being a detective.
Christie? Now, that made sense. Christie was the queen of mysteries and knew her address. But she was busy with opening her new beauty salon and being a newlywed. Of course, if Christie knew her address, so did most of River’s End.
andShe found a knife and cut through the tape on the top. She wanted to know what was inside. Charlotte pushed the flaps aside and looked in.
At first, she didn’t understand. There were books, and photo albums, and little trinket boxes, Christmas cards, and a whole lot of letters. And on the very top, in a plastic sleeve, an envelope. It was addressed to her.
Charlotte walked away. Went out on the balcony and played with the pine branches, whispering to them that they were wanted and needed to grow. She gazed down the road, not seeing a thing.
And then she returned to the box and slid the envelope out of the plastic sleeve.
Dear Dr Dean,
Dear Dr Dean,The board of Lakeview Care thought it was time to forward the remaining items Angelica kept from the house. With the deteriorating condition of your mother, we felt it prudent to send what is yours. She has held on to these as some kind of comfort but has not touched them in weeks. We believe it is safe to send them now.
The board of Lakeview Care thought it was time to forward the remaining items Angelica kept from the house. With the deteriorating condition of your mother, we felt it prudent to send what is yours. She has held on to these as some kind of comfort but has not touched them in weeks. We believe it is safe to send them now.Sincerely,
Sincerely,Maggie
MaggieCharlotte let the note escape her fingers and watched it fall to the ground. She walked to the kitchen. Then back to the balcony. And then, she collected a book from the pile on a coffee table and went to the bedroom.
- Writer
