Charlotte Dean Mysteries Collection

Chapter 17

Laptop open on the kitchen counter, Charlotte perched on a stool as she ate with one hand and set up the shop f*******: page with the other. Tomorrow she’d take photos in and outside the bookshop and upload those. For now, she did the basics and prepared what she could without images.

Next on her long list was to create signage for what she and Rosie had decided to call the ‘giving box’. Rosie suggested covering a large cardboard box with Christmas paper and placing it near the counter, so Charlotte added this to her job to do, but this one for first thing in the morning.

After playing with fonts and images for a while, Charlotte was satisfied with the wording and appearance of the signs. They’d be printed in colour downstairs, then put around the shop and in the windows. Charlotte wrote herself a reminder to ask Rosie who would be best to speak to about the donations. Most likely a local church group or other care workers who’d know where a little extra would be appreciated.

Charlotte already planned to add a few books. Something told her the Forest family were putting their all into keeping the Christmas Tree Farm afloat, so hopefully they wouldn’t mind a couple of books heading their way for Lachie.

She got up to stretch and get some water. It reminded her to water the pine tree, so she filled a jug and went to check on it. This time it took less water to soak in properly, and Charlotte was certain the branches were a little more robust than this morning.

“You’re going to be just fine.”

She adjusted a bauble, then wandered to the railing.

A police car cruised past. Charlotte couldn’t see the driver but was there anyone else but Sid in this town? It slowed to a crawl near Esther’s shop, then parked a little further along, closer to the roundabout. Keeping an eye on things? About time.

Before she could get riled up at Sid and his council friends, she went inside, locking the door behind herself as if to shut them out. If they couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do their work in finding the thief, then she wasn’t about to do it for them.

Or was she? Charlotte came to a halt in the centre of the living room. Three thefts of artificial Christmas trees in three days. And the audacity of stealing the one belonging to the town. What was motivating the person, or people, behind it?

Charlotte returned the water jug to the kitchen and opened her emails. There was one person who loved a mystery even more than she did and was brilliant at solving them. Christie Ryan. She started an email.

Hey Christie,

Hey Christie,I know you have your hands full but if you’d like a distraction, let me know and I’ll fill you in on some odd happenings here in Kingfisher Falls. Someone is stealing Christmas trees, of all things! Artificial ones, or perhaps that is coincidence. And I’ve managed to put the local police offside by being my usual self.

I know you have your hands full but if you’d like a distraction, let me know and I’ll fill you in on some odd happenings here in Kingfisher Falls. Someone is stealing Christmas trees, of all things! Artificial ones, or perhaps that is coincidence. And I’ve managed to put the local police offside by being my usual self.As she typed, a new email arrived, and she stopped to read it. For a moment she simply looked at the sender. Maggie from Lakeview Care. Subject: Angelica Dean. What was wrong now?

She dropped her hands from the laptop, awash with a familiar coldness. As her own therapist, she recognised the response to seeing her mother’s name. The coldness wouldn’t go until she dealt with whatever this was.

Charlotte opened the email.

Dear Dr Dean,

Dear Dr Dean,I’ve left a message on your phone this evening but thought it best to follow up with an email. Your mother has recently begun asking to see you again. She’s experienced a few episodes that lasted longer than in the past, requiring additional medication to manage her outbursts.

I’ve left a message on your phone this evening but thought it best to follow up with an email. Your mother has recently begun asking to see you again. She’s experienced a few episodes that lasted longer than in the past, requiring additional medication to manage her outbursts.She reached for her phone. The battery was depleted, so she plugged it in and let it recharge. For a moment she stood at the sink filling a glass with water. It overflowed. Once she’d dried her hand, she forced herself back to the email.

Her illness is taking a toll on her. Some days she sleeps despite our best attempts to keep a normal routine, and then she wakens disoriented and the paranoid episodes begin.

Her illness is taking a toll on her. Some days she sleeps despite our best attempts to keep a normal routine, and then she wakens disoriented and the paranoid episodes begin.Mrs Dean’s deterioration since you last visited is dramatic. I would appreciate the opportunity to speak with you by phone to discuss several matters. Although I understand you are no longer in Queensland, please consider coming to see your mother while she still recognises you.

Mrs Dean’s deterioration since you last visited is dramatic. I would appreciate the opportunity to speak with you by phone to discuss several matters. Although I understand you are no longer in Queensland, please consider coming to see your mother while she still recognises you.Charlotte closed the laptop with a click. Dementia on top of paranoid schizophrenia and other diseases was why Angelica was in residential care. A lifetime of refusing treatment drove everyone away. Every friend. Any family, including the man who’d bravely married a woman who turned on everyone, sooner or later.

Including me.

Including me.If she was treating a patient, Charlotte would know what to do. How to create a management plan and adjust medications and therapy to provide the most comfortable level of living possible.

But she’s not a patient. Not my patient. Not now.

But she’s not a patient. Not my patient. Not now.Charlotte was barely aware of grabbing her house keys and slipping her feet back into shoes. She was down the back steps in seconds and running. Running as fast as her legs would let her.