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  Scissors, Siblings and Surprises

  Emily Selby

  Copyright © 2018 by Emily Selby

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Disclaimer:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book and the entire series is set in England and written using British English spelling, punctuation and some vocabulary.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Also by Emily Selby

  1

  Katie Redford watched Miriam Fischer, who had just announced her resignation as the president of the Paper Crafts Club, handing out the voting cards. With the candidates' presentations completed, it was time to choose the new president. Katie stood. As per the club's customs, the candidates couldn’t cast a vote, so Katie scanned the room, looking for Ally Baker, the other candidate, but she must have already left.

  Her jacket on and her handbag in hand, Katie headed for the door. On her way through the room, she glanced in the far corner where Miriam's husband, Julian, was supposed to sit. His chair was empty.

  Katie's heart flipped. She glanced over her shoulder, but Miriam's deep voice calmly reminding people how to vote, reassured her. Miriam must have seen Julian leave and, clearly, she wasn't worried.

  Outside, the darkness smelled of mould. It was the first dry day after a week of rain and the moisture hung in the air. Katie zipped up her winter jacket and reached for her handbag. She had only until the end of the week to let Roy Dunbar know what she wanted to do with the workshop she had inherited a few months earlier. Just before Christmas, Roy had told her that if she wanted to take over the building and the land, she would have to contribute to the inheritance tax. Katie spent the holiday period contemplating her options, until last week when she was offered a deal to exchange her inheritance for a nice little house on a new estate.

  All she needed to do was ring Michael Bower, the local building developer, and tell him she was up for it. She fumbled with the keyboard on her phone until her finger hovered over Michael's name.

  Was it really what she wanted? Was she able to accept the loans offered by her friends? Would she be able to find an extra job? How else was she going to pay off those loans? What if the new house needed even more investment?

  She didn't have the money.

  But she wouldn't have the money to do anything with the workshop either. The idea of turning it into a crafts shop was great, but she would have to apply for a building permission, and then refurbish the building completely. But the biggest risk entailed setting up a crafts shop in such a quiet spot. It just didn't sound right.

  She didn't need the hassles that would come with the workshop.

  She could sell the building and the land and use the money to pay for a smaller place, or even to go to university, but Michael Bower's offer was a fantastic deal. In exchange for the property, she would have a new build, two-bedroom, semi-detached house with a back garden and a view over the stream and the meadows.

  Her dream.

  And Michelle and Dorothy had reassured her several times that Katie could take as much time as she needed to repay the loans they’d offered.

  Bother! She didn't want to go through the wringer of rehashing her decision again. There was no harm in viewing the house, anyway.

  Katie forced herself to tap Michael's number. She listened to the beeping of the ringtone, breathing slowly. She would not change her mind. Not now.

  'Good evening, Michael Bower speaking.' A deep voice greeted her.

  'Hi, Mr Bower. This is Katie Redford.'

  'Katie! What have you decided?'

  'I would like to view the house, if possible.'

  'Of course, it is,' he said, sounding enthusiastic. 'When would you like to see it?'

  'Whenever it's available.'

  'It's our show home, it's always available. I can take you there. I'll try to adjust to your schedule,' he said and before Katie could say anything, he carried on, 'I think it is an excellent deal. The house is in great condition. I doubt you’d need to even refresh it. We've been looking after it. It's furnished, as all our show homes. The carpets may need a little cleaning, but the kitchen is spotless and, so is the bathroom. And if you don't mind neutral colour furnishings and features, you wouldn't have to worry about anything.'

  Ideally, Katie would love to redecorate the house to suit her and Julia's tastes but, given their financial situation, she was in no position to plan it anytime soon. Neutral beige, or whatever it was called, would have to do. Katie and Julia could always add a touch of colour by using their own handmade paper decorations.

  'How about tomorrow?’ Katie ventured.

  The sooner the better. Before she changed her mind.

  'That would be okay. Straight after work? What time do you finish?'

  '12.30 pm.'

  'Perfect. That's my lunch break.'

  She stood staring at the dark screen for a while after the call ended. Her stomach was twisted and knobbly and felt like a piece of old wood. Her finger hovered over the callback button –would she ever be able to earn enough money to pay it back? Was it really the right decision?

  Katie shuddered and dropped the phone back into her handbag. There was nothing wrong with just having a look, was there? As long as she didn't sign any documents, she could always backtrack on the decision.

  She checked her watch. It was just past 7.30 pm. Back in the crafts room, her fellow paper craft lovers were having what looked like a heated discussion. Too early to return.

  Katie stepped back and looked around. Ally was nowhere to be seen. Where had she gone? The space around the building on this side of the community centre was dark. Katie shivered again.

  She could sit in her car or walk a little. Her legs needed stretching. Katie hugged her jacket and headed to her right. When she reached the corner of the building, where they kept the rubbish bins, she stopped. Her stomach tightened. A tall, hunched, dark silhouette stood just by the bin.

  Her heart hammering, she stepped forward. Was it Julian Fischer?

  'Hello,' Katie called out. 'Mr Fischer?'

  The silhouette didn't move. Katie forced her feet forward.

  Yes, Julian Fischer. So, this was where he'd gone.

  'Mr Fischer,' she called out again. 'It's Katie Redford. Are
you alright? I think you forgot your jacket.'

  Katie kept talking and walking slowly towards him, but he didn't move. She stopped a couple of steps away.

  Julian was looking at something on the ground in front of him, his face tense. Katie inched forward. In the dim light of the street lamp overhead, something glinted.

  A knife?

  Katie's shoulders stiffened. Her heart broke into a gallop.

  A few more inches forward.

  No, scissors!

  Yes, Julian had been cutting something out in the crafts room, wasn't he?

  'Mr Fischer'? Her voice came out squeaky, and Katie cleared her throat. 'Aren't you cold without a jacket? Your wife will be quite upset. Your wife, Miriam,' Katie added, hoping that hearing a familiar name would snap him out of his strange, trance-like state.

  As though in slow motion, Julian Fischer turned his head to face her. He was pale and shaking. His eyes were wide open, eyeballs close to popping out.

  A look of sheer horror.

  His jaw dropped. Katie tensed hoping he would say something. But he just stayed like that - staring at her, frozen.

  A drop of cold sweat rolled down her cheek. Katie wiped it with the back of her hand. As if compelled by an invisible force, she moved forward two steps, close enough to see what the rubbish bin was hiding. The very thing Julian Fischer had been staring at.

  Something was propped against the bin, in a sitting position. A body!

  A hot wave of adrenaline-fuelled energy flushed through her body. She jerked her head to look at Julian Fischer.

  'What happened?' she croaked.

  Julian Fischer raised his hand, the one holding the scissors. Dark stains covered the blades.

  Blood?

  'Mr Fischer, did you...'

  Julian Fischer groaned, turned on his heel and trotted away.

  Katie started running after him but stopped. She needed to check on the body first.

  'Mr Fischer, could you please come back? I'll call Miriam,' she yelled and returned to the bin. She crouched by the dark-haired man, dressed in a shirt and a pair of dark trousers.

  'Hello, sir. Can you hear me?' she said, gently squeezing the man's shoulder. His face was yellowish and pasty-looking. He had dark circles under his eyes.

  There was no response.

  'Hello, are you okay?' she called again, moving his shoulder.

  The man's head flipped forward. Katie flinched. She reached out to check for a pulse at his neck.

  There was none.

  With her fingers still on the cool neck, Katie's slid her gaze down. A small, dark spot stained the front of his white shirt.

  Katie clambered to her feet. She rummaged in her handbag for her phone and punched in the emergency number.

  These words had become too familiar. Sometimes she wondered whether the emergency services had her marked somehow in their system. Katie the Bearer of Bad News, or something similar. Even though she had made several similar discoveries, finding corpses and reporting them hadn't become any easier.

  "Hello, this is Katie Redford speaking. I'm by the community centre in Sunnyvale. I've just found a dead body.'

  After making the emergency call reporting the relevant details, she phoned the local police number. Her friend and colleague, Sergeant Chris Fox, was on duty, which made the conversation easier.

  'Chris, I found a body and Julian Fischer has run off with what looks like the murder weapon. I've called the emergency number, but I need someone to come and find him while I keep an eye on the scene.'

  'What?' Chris snapped and inhaled sharply. 'I'll be there right away,' he rushed to add and ended the call.

  Katie wrapped her arms tight around her chest. During her short stay outside, the temperature had plummeted. She paced the area, trying to keep warm until the sound of an approaching car engine drilled through the tense silence.

  The police? That was quick.

  2

  Katie welcomed the familiar shape of the local police patrol car pulling up close to the bin. Her broad-shouldered friend, Chris Fox, emerged from the passenger side as soon as the car came to a stop.

  'Where is Julian?' Chris yelled.

  Katie pointed towards the front of the building, and Chris broke in to sprint following her direction.

  'Why did you call us, not the emergency number?' A sharp, female voice cut through the silence.

  Celia Baxter, one of the junior constables, with whom Katie had had some interpersonal difficulties, stuck her head through the driver's open window.

  'I did. They're sending an ambulance and the forensic team, I believe.'

  'Including your favourite inspector?' Celia's almond-shaped eyes drilled into Katie's face.

  Oh, for goodness' sake, would you just forgive me for having a favourite inspector.

  'I'm going to ignore that last comment, Celia,' Katie said calmly, keeping her word choice tightly in check. 'I don't know who they are sending, but I hope it happens very soon. The body’s over here,' Katie moved to one side so Celia could see the corpse.

  Celia snapped on a pair of gloves and walked to the body.

  'Where is Julian's wife? We've told her to keep tabs on him with one of those GPS-tracking things. You should ask Miriam where he is, rather than make Chris run around the town searching for him,' Celia said, lifting her head and looking in the direction where Chris had disappeared.

  'You mean Miriam has a way to monitor where Julian goes?'

  'Yes. Where is she?'

  'Still in the crafts room.'

  'Can you go and get her? I'll keep the scene secure.'

  Katie trotted around the corner. The light from the window created a bright spot on the ground. It looked as though the debate had ended. Miriam was collecting the voting cards.

  What should she say to Miriam to avoid panic? She hadn't quite thought it through.

  She opened the door, leaned inside, and waved. 'Miriam, could you please come over here? Grab your jacket, it's freezing outside.'

  'Sorry, Katie, a bit busy here,' Miriam replied.

  A warm wave crept onto Katie's face. She was never good at insisting that people did what she wanted them to do. 'You need to come. Please. Now.' She said as firmly as she could.

  Miriam flinched but put the stack of cards she was holding on the table. 'Sorry, ladies, I'll be right back,' Miriam excused herself, grabbing her jacket from the chair and marching towards Katie. 'What is it?'

  'It's about Julian. He's missing, and the police are saying you can track him.'

  'Oh, Julian again.' Miriam sighed and turned around to grab her handbag from the table. She fished out her phone and fumbled with it. 'Here’s the locator app. ... He's just across the car park. I think he may be behind the charity clothing bins. Really, nothing to worry about. He wanders off, but he's not in any danger.' Miriam continued to ramble, while Katie pulled her by the sleeve, gently trying to force her friend to leave the room so she could close the door and deliver the news.

  'Why are you dragging me? I told you, he's no bother to anyone. I wish he were because it would have been easier for me to get him help. Oh, Katie, it's bitter out here. Why are you closing the door?'

  Katie slammed the door, gulped and grabbed Miriam's hands. They were warm and soft, unlike her own which began to shake. Probably as much from stress as from cold.

  'Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I think Julian might be in trouble. You need to go and talk to the police.'

  'Why? Where are they?' Confusion filled Miriam's broad face. A few strands of her shoulder-length wavy hair stuck to her cheeks.

  'They are...' Katie paused, spotting the lights of an approaching van. The ambulance or the forensic team? Would Jack come with them?

  'Chris is over there.' Katie pointed behind her back towards the car park with the charity bins.

  'If he knows where Julian is, why bother me?' Miriam asked, pulling the sides of her jacket closer and buttoning it up.

  Katie took a deep breath. S
he didn't know how else she should tell her friend and if indeed, it was a good idea to tell her anything at this stage. The potential consequences of the discovery just dawned on her. Poor Miriam. Poor Julian, if indeed, Julian stabbed the dead man. Katie slid her arm around her friend's shoulder.

  Let the police deal with the body.

  'You know what, let's go and find him,' Katie said, and tugged Miriam gently towards the car park, deliberately choosing to approach it from the other side.

  Two paramedics dressed in green jumped out of the van as Katie and Miriam turned the corner.

  Katie spotted Chris checking the cars parked at the side.

  'Chris, check the charity bins,' Katie called out.

  Chris waved his thanks and ran towards the bins.

  By the time Katie and Miriam reached them, Chris was already squatting beside Julian, who was leaning on the bin, covering his face with both his hands. The blood-stained scissors were lying on the tarmac beside him. Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of gloves and a plastic bag.

  'What the heck is going on here? Julian are you all right, darling?' Miriam's sharp soprano cut through the silence.

  Julian Fischer lifted his head and stared at his wife with a look of sheer bewilderment.

  'What's happened, darling? You must be cold! You should have taken your coat. I told you so many times to put it on when you go outside.'

  'Mr and Mrs Fischer,' Chris said, putting the scissors in the bag and zipping it closed. 'I need you both to come with me to the police station. I'm afraid there has been an incident-'