The Hard Way Duncan Brockwell (romance book recommendations .TXT) 📖

Every time she drove there, she wondered how Henry could own such a magnificent home. The interior décor matched the awe-inspiring exterior, every touch and nuance chosen by Henry.

Stopping outside their huge pillared front doors, Charlotte switched off the engine and sat waiting for Henry to move. Numb. She picked him up from the radio station, where she found him trying to get through the police cordon. “Let’s get you inside, shall we?”

Getting out of her car, she went round to Henry’s side and opened his door. He sat motionless, staring into the void, his eyes dead. She reached across him and unclipped his seat belt. “Come on, Henry, help me out here. I’m not strong enough to carry you.”

Not comatose, he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled himself out. Charlotte walked with him up the three concrete steps to the huge front doors. He handed her the key and she opened up, helping him inside. After closing the door, she walked him through to the huge lounge and eased him onto his expensive sofa. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Fussing over Henry made her forget about her poor little brother, slain. In the kitchen, she prepared two mugs of tea, while waiting for the kettle to boil. Her Colin was dead! Too numb to believe it, she made the beverages and carried them through.

After placing Henry’s mug on the coffee table, her mobile went off in her handbag. “That’ll be Richard.” Her brother-in-law lay on the sofa, sobbing. Charlotte went through his trouser pocket and took out the gate remote key ring. “I’ll bring it right back.”

She answered Richard’s call and pressed the “open” button. A couple of minutes later, she opened the door to her elder brother, who greeted her with his customary kiss on the cheek.

“How is he?” Richard seemed genuine.

“As you’d expect, devastated. He’s lying on the sofa.” She walked with him through the hallway to the lounge. “I’ve just made tea. Do you want one?”

While Richard sat with Henry, she went through to the kitchen and made another mug of tea, this time to her fussy brother’s specifications. She was used to his meticulous ways. Charlotte couldn’t fathom how her sister-in-law had put up with his habits for so long before separating from him. “Here!” In the sitting room, she handed him the mug.

Silence. When she sat on the sofa next to Henry, he crawled towards her, and lay his head on her lap, sobbing. Charlotte stroked his hair. Her poor Colin. She tried swallowing the lump in her throat.

Richard leaned forward. “Do you know what happened? Do you know how he died? Has anyone spoken to you?”

Charlotte shook her head. “I drove to the radio station and found Henry trying to get through the police cordon. I didn’t get a chance to speak to anyone before I drove him back here. I’m sorry! This is all too surreal for me. Who’d want to hurt Colin?”

Richard stood. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

When her brother took out his mobile, Henry’s landline phone rang. It sat next to the sofa, within Charlotte’s reach. “Shall I answer it, Henry?” When he failed to reply, she lifted the receiver. “The Curtis residence. How can I help?”

“Yeah, hi, I was hoping to speak to Henry Curtis.”

She looked down at him. “I’m afraid we’ve received some devastating news. He’s unavailable right now.”

“Oh, excuse me. I’m Detective Sergeant Rachel Miller, I’m investigating Colin Fisher’s murder. I was hoping to arrange a convenient time to come and speak to him?”

Charlotte waved at Richard, who stood faffing with his phone. She covered the mouthpiece on the receiver. “It’s the police. They want to set up an interview.” Her brother strutted over and took the receiver from her, identifying himself as Colin’s brother.

Still unreal, dreamlike, she listened to Richard converse with the detective with the lovely voice. “And? What’s going on?” She waited for him to place the receiver on its docking bay. “Did she tell you what happened?”

“Detective Miller and Hayes are coming over tomorrow at eleven. I’m going to identify Colin’s body at nine, and then drive over here straight after.”

“Identify his body?” Shit was becoming all too real, although it felt like a dream, a bad dream that she wished she could pinch herself to awake from. She only saw Colin a couple of days earlier, and he was in great spirits, all excited about his upcoming holiday with Henry. They were borrowing a friend’s luxury yacht and crew for a couple of weeks. Charlotte wanted to wake up now.

“Someone has to, sis. Henry’s not up to it, and I don’t want you to remember Colin lying on a slab in a morgue. So I said I would.”

She had to hand it to Richard, he always came through for the family, every time. Richard was a reliable rock. Whenever she found herself in trouble, she would seek out Richard’s advice. The family would have imploded without him. Charlotte nodded her understanding, while stroking Henry’s hair.

“I’ll do it.” Henry’s tiny voice, barely audible, broke their focus. “He was my husband. I’ll go and identify him. I need to say goodbye.”

Richard objected. “I don’t want you remembering Colin lying on a slab, either. Please reconsider, Henry. You mean a lot to us.”

“I’ve made up my mind. It’s something I have to do.”

Charlotte stopped stroking his hair and he sat up. “This is a shock, Henry. Lie back down, please?” He sat there, staring into space. Instead of forcing him, she got up and took the mugs back to the kitchen.

After putting the plug in, she filled the basin with hot soapy water and started washing up the plates left on the counter from the previous night. It seemed as though Henry and Colin had entertained at some point. Obviously not the previous night, because Colin was working at the radio station until late. There were a dozen plates to wash.

She would do anything to take her mind