Deadly Secrets

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Trev climbed the stairs to Charlotte’s door two at a time.

He waited a moment before knocking, running a hand through his short hair, and taking off his sunglasses. Then, he tapped.

The door swung inward. “Hey.” Charlie held it open as he entered, then closed it behind them both.

He sniffed the air and his mouth watered. Whatever was cooking was good. Garlic and basil wafted his way and his stomach rumbled. Quietly, he hoped.

“Thanks so much for helping with this.” Charlotte disappeared around the corner and he left his sunglasses on the counter and followed. She was in the bedroom at the back of the apartment. The room was large and under furnished with only a narrow old bed along one wall, and the wardrobe—his target—blocking the window.

“It’s a big piece of furniture.”

“So, I’ll ask someone stronger?” she grinned.

“Hysterical. I just don’t want you hurt.”

“Then grab an end.”

If nothing else, Charlotte was an optimist. She believed they could move this thing without help.

The apartment was once the home of the family who built the building and ran the downstairs as a bakery until his parents bought it and turned it into the bookshop. Since then, there’d been various tenants renting the place, but this wardrobe was old. Probably an original piece left behind with the sale.

And heavy. It took them ten minutes to move it. Bit by bit. More push than lift. But once the wardrobe was against the wall, he joined Charlotte at the liberated window. Panting. A bit.

Covered in grime and spiderwebs, the window still flooded the room with daylight. Charlotte brushed a web aside and worked on the lock without success. “Darn. Would you have a go and I’ll get a brush and pan.”

By the time she returned with an assortment of cleaners, the window was wide open. It slid across and Trev blew dust out of the runners, wishing he hadn’t at the cloud of particles. “Think I made it worse.”

“I’ll do a proper clean in here later but will just move some of these…” she began sweeping away the long-abandoned webs, “so we can see out without them sticking to us.”

“Like this?” Trev extracted a cobweb from a strand of her hair. “Not a big issue for me as such.”

Charlotte stopped sweeping, her head tilting as she ran her eyes over his head. “Nothing could hide in such short hair.”

“What smells so good?”

Her eyes widened and she sniffed the air. “Oh, I’d better turn the oven off.” And she was gone again.

Trev finished cleaning around the window frame. He glanced around the room. It needed some love. Some cracks filled and new paint would go a long way. Updated furniture. The old bed was in poor condition beneath a large cardboard box. He’d noticed it before.

The only other time he’d been in here in years was to look at a corkboard Charlotte hid, one with her list of clues around the death of Octavia Morris. And his mood wasn’t good then.

A pile of Christmas cards sat on top of whatever else was in there. He picked up the top one. A beautiful handmade card.

“Oh. Um, here, I’ll put that away.” Charlotte hurried in and took the card from his fingers. Her face held the serious, slightly anxious expression he’d come to recognise. This box was related to her past. She slid the card away and folded the flaps over the contents.

“So, is lunch burnt?”

“Come and find out.”

Charlotte waited for Trev to bite into a slice of pizza, holding her breath as he chewed, not giving anything away. They sat on the balcony with iced tea and the pizza between them. She wasn’t going to eat until he gave her a hint of its palatability.

He swallowed. “Did you lace this with something?”

“Sure. I always poison people I invite over.”

“You’re not eating it.” He nodded to her plate. “Getting bored without any mysteries to solve, so creating your own?”

“By murdering the new police officer in town. Who happens to be the adored son of the woman I work for and love to bits.” Charlotte picked up a slice. “Where would I hide your body?”

“In the woods. And this is fantastic.” Trev took another bite and winked.

It wasn’t bad. The crust might have been a fraction thinner but tasted good. And the toppings were yum. Bocconcini, semi dried tomatoes, garlic, and basil from the garden. Yes, her own herbs were coming along as well as a selection of vegetables. Next time, she’d create something more ambitious and use more of her home grown produce. Next time.

“What’s the smile for?” Trev asked.

Being happy? Knowing you live here in Kingfisher Falls now? And like my pizza.

“Nothing really.”

The sparkle in Trev’s eyes told her he didn’t believe her.

“I can’t understand why anyone would deliberately cover this view!” Charlotte finished cleaning the window in the back bedroom and tossed her cloth into the bucket of soapy water. “It makes no sense.”

“Stopped trying to work out why people do things a long time ago.” Trev leaned out of the window to peer down. “Garden looks pretty. Lots of vegies growing.”

Charlotte joined him. “Carrots. Lettuce in two varieties. I’ll put rocket in. Some beetroot. And look at the basil and rosemary!”

“Always enjoyed my garden in River’s End.” Trev stepped back. “Hope it gives the next incumbent some pleasure.”

“I’m sure Rosie is happy to share her garden with you.”

“And I’m enjoying being home. But it’ll be good to find my own place again.”

“You could buy Octavia’s mansion.” Charlotte kept her face straight. “Or there is Glenys Lane’s place. I hear that’s going on the market to pay her legal fees.”

“Bit too spooky up there for me. Actually, both are too creepy. Good thing you’re not a real estate agent.” He glanced at his watch. “Sorry. Speaking of Mum, we have a shopping date. Apparently, I need new sheets and blankets.”

He headed for the door, giving Charlotte a much-needed moment to control a sudden rush of heat to her face. She’d once slept at Rosie’s in the room always kept ready for Trev’s visits. The sheets were fresh, yet his scent had lingered on the soft cotton.

In your mind!

“Where are you shopping?” She pulled herself together and followed. “Can’t imagine there’s too many places close by.”

“She has her heart set on Highpoint. There’s a place there she likes. About a forty-minute drive, so I’d better get a move on. Unless you’d like to come along?”

“Tempting. Thanks, but I might give the bedroom a full clean and get an idea of how to jazz it up a bit. For the next shopping trip.”

Trev opened his arms and Charlotte nestled against him for a moment. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Pleasure. And lunch was lovely, Charlie.” He released her and reached for his sunglasses. “Enjoy cleaning.”

“Sure. Love to clean. Best. Thing. Ever.” Charlotte pushed the bucket away and closed the wardrobe door. Whoever once lived here might never have cleaned the inside of this heavy timber unit. But now it was done and after two hours working non-stop, so was Charlotte.

The air was cooling since the mid-afternoon sun had moved to the front of the building. She slid the window across to close it and locked it with a bit of pressure. The view from up here, high above the track behind the fence, let Charlotte see into the bushland. There were gaps she’d not noticed. Sunlight on the trees gave an impression of a path of sorts. One with a trail of colour alongside.

Charlotte put her cleaning gear away and considered making a coffee. But the odd path intrigued her. And she had the rest of the afternoon free.

A few minutes later, she unlocked the gate. Standing in the middle of the track for a moment, she looked back to the window then across to where she remembered the path beginning. At first there was nothing to mark a path. Only the usual dense undergrowth and the familiar sensation of trepidation. But then it opened to a narrow but defined trail.

To where?

The path was dirt underfoot. Flowers grew in scattered clumps on either side. Daisies. Or, daisy-like flowers in purple. Almost as though they’d been sown along here because Charlotte hadn’t come across them toward the river, nor, as she looked side to side, were there any further off the path. She took some photos. Perhaps Rosie would know what variety these were.

After a few minutes, the path disappeared, and Charlotte stopped. Behind, there was nothing to indicate a whole town was close by. A little shudder rippled across her shoulders and she clenched her hands.

“It is quiet. Isolated. Nothing more.” The sound of her voice offered little comfort. The path may have ended, but the flowers continued off at a sharp angle. Charlotte followed them, skirting bushes, and stepping over logs. A clearing opened in front of her. A long-fallen gum tree rested to one side. Tree ferns softened the perimeter. Somewhere close by, the river gurgled.

This was a peaceful place. Beautiful in its solitary way. Cool. Restful.

Beneath the two tallest tree ferns, the flowers massed to form a long, purple rectangle of sorts.

Charlotte’s stomach tensed and she stopped. At one end of the mass, there were other flowers. But in a wreath. A fresh wreath.

This was a grave.