[Kate Redman 08.5] Joy Read online

  Table of Contents

  Joy

  Requiem (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 2)

  A Prescription For Death (The Asharton Manor Mysteries: Book 2) – A Novella

  A Blessing From The Obeah Man

  More Books By Celina Grace…

  Hushabye (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 1)

  Imago (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 3)

  Snarl (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 4)

  Chimera (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 5)

  Echo (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 6)

  Creed (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 7)

  Sanctuary (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 8)

  Siren (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 9)

  Valentine (A Kate Redman Mystery Novella)

  Pulse (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 10)

  Death at the Manor

  A Prescription for Death

  The Rhythm of Murder

  Number Thirteen, Manor Close

  Acknowledgements

  Joy

  A Kate Redman Short Story For Christmas

  Celina Grace

  Joy

  Copyright © 2015 by Celina Grace. All rights reserved.

  First Edition: December 2016

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Joy

  Kate Redman paused by the bottom of the escalators and frantically tried to locate the payment tills. She was still wearing her thick winter coat and woolly hat and a scarf was wrapped snugly around her neck. All of this, plus the department store’s formidable central heating, meant she was currently bathed in sweat, despite the temperatures outside in the street dropping to minus figures. Her arms were piled high with goods in imminent danger of crashing to the glossy tiled floor.

  Ah, there they were. Kate spotted the tills and, simultaneously, the long queue snaking back from the desks. She groaned. Determined to just get this over with, once and for all, she panted over to join the back of the queue and shifted the pile about a bit in her arms to settle it more comfortably. Of course, Kate pondered, there was something to be said for doing your Christmas shopping early and beating the queues. But then, she’d learned the hard way that one could sometimes be a bit too efficient. For at least two years on the trot, Kate had dutifully made lists and bought Christmas presents throughout the year, when she saw something suitable or when various shops were running a sale. She would then stash the presents somewhere secure, like the back of her wardrobe or under the spare-room bed, promptly forget she’d bought them and then, in December, she would panic-buy a whole load of new presents for people she’d already bought gifts for. The worst case was when she’d snapped up an expensive Thomas the Tank Engine toy for her godchild, Harry, stashed it, forgot about it, rediscovered it sometime the next Spring and thought philosophically, ‘Oh well, I’ll give it to him this Christmas,’ only to find, the ungrateful child had switched his allegiance to Spiderman by the time the holiday season rolled round.

  No, this year Kate was doing things by the book. Once she’d paid for this little lot, that was the bulk of the present buying out of the way. She could then think about getting the Christmas food and decorations. Kate’s brother, Jay, and his wife, Laura, were coming over for Christmas Day, with Kate’s fellow officer Mark Olbeck and his husband, Jeff, joining them in the evening. Hot and tired as she was, Kate couldn’t help the warm anticipation that spread through her when she thought about Christmas Day. It would be the first time she’d ‘hosted’ and she was looking forward to it. Even the knowledge that her own boyfriend, Tin, couldn’t make it down on the day itself didn’t dampen her spirits. They had their own plans for Boxing Day – a wintry countryside walk in the day and a visit to the theatre in the evening – and Kate had to be content with that.

  Kate’s mind was so taken up with these seasonal musings that she scarcely noticed that she’d reached the front of the queue for payment. Thankfully, she unloaded all her gifts onto the desk in front of the cashier and reached for her purse.

  Packages safely stowed away in her massive cotton shopping bag, Kate made her way towards the exit. As she passed the ground floor displays of ten foot tall Christmas trees, hung so thickly with baubles and ornaments their foliage could scarcely be seen, the base of each tree heaped with gifts and goods and neatly folded piles of Christmas jumpers and soft leather gloves and cashmere scarves, she became aware of an altercation taking place just up ahead, by the exit. With a police officer’s fine-tuned sensitivity to trouble, Kate realised that the security guard for the store had apprehended a shoplifter – or so it seemed.

  She paused; a small selfish part of her didn’t want to get involved. It was late, nearly eight thirty at night, and she had a whole heap of household chores to do at home, her cat Merlin to feed and dinner to make. She was back at work tomorrow, so tonight was the only chance she had to get on top of everything. Kate looked at the guard, a heavy, middle-aged man, remonstrating with the person he’d apprehended. She looked at the miscreant more closely and sighed.

  “Can I be of assistance?” she asked as she walked up to the pair of them. A small crowd of late night shoppers was beginning to gather, silent but observant.

  For a moment she thought the security guard was going to tell her to sod off, and before he could think of it, she pulled out her warrant card and thrust it under his nose. He blinked and then said reluctantly, “Oh, right, officer. Yes, we’ve got a problem here.”

  “I should say so,” Kate said. She looked at the man standing in front of her, noting his old tweed coat was in an even worse state than usual. He’d wound a dirty scarf around his head and wisps of greasy grey hair stuck out from beneath it. Kate shook her head. “Charlie, Charlie, I thought we’d seen the last of you in here. Didn’t the last time teach you anything?” She was amazed that he’d even got through the door without being apprehended, looking as he did.

  Charlie Petworth hung his head. “I wasn’t doing any harm. I was only looking. Come in here for a bit of a warm and—”

  “He blatantly took three ornaments off that tree,” the security guard said hotly. “I was watching him. They’re in his pocket.”

  Kate sighed. “Come on, Charlie. Turn ‘em out.”

  Charlie, his head hanging down, dutifully did so. His fluff-filled pockets disgorged three golden glass baubles.

  “Oh, Charlie,” Kate said, shaking her head. “What are we going to do with you?”

  “I d’nt mean any harm,” mumbled Charlie.

  Kate shook back her hair, wishing she looked a bit cooler than she actually felt. “Look, Charlie, you know this isn’t right, don’t you?”

  “—es…” Charlie whispered. He was in his fifties, but at that moment he sounded like a small boy.

  Kate turned to the security guard. “You can leave him with me. I’ll take him to the station.”

  “But—”

  Kate put a hand on his arm and turned him around a little. “Are you new here?”

  The guard looked confused. “I started last month—”

  “Ah, well, you probably haven’t run up against Charlie before.�
�� Kate spoke low enough so the subject of her conversation couldn’t hear. “He’s a habitual thief. Always steals something small, something cheap. You’ll probably see him in here again next month.”

  The guard looked truculent. “Why does he do it?”

  Kate shrugged. “I would imagine he did it tonight so he can get a bed for the night. He’s homeless, you see.” She turned back to Charlie. “Am I going to have any trouble, Charlie?”

  “No, ma’am.” Charlie stood blinking and confused in the bright department store lights.

  “Is Baxter outside?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kate patted the security guard on the arm. “I’ll take it from here, thank you.”

  Outside the shop, Kate stopped to let Charlie gather up the lead of his dog, Baxter. “Come on, then. Down to the station with you.”

  Once they were all in Kate’s car, she turned the heater up to full. Charlie was shivering.

  “When was the last time you ate, Charlie?” she asked. She could smell the booze on him now they were both shut into an enclosed space.

  “Dunno.”

  “Okay, well – I’ll get the duty sergeant to get you something when we get to the station.” There were many things Kate would have liked to say to the man, but she knew it was hopeless. Why do you drink so much, why don’t you go to the refuge, what made you end up on the streets? Instead, she shook her head and drove to Abbeyford Police Station.

  “Evening, Charlie,” said Constable Boulton, who was manning the front desk. “Usual, is it, Kate?”

  “Yep. I’m not here, officially. Just dropping Charlie off. Can you make sure he gets something to eat, please?”

  “Of course.”

  Kate watched as Charlie was led away to the cells. Baxter, veteran of the police station, watched as his master was led away, his tail drooping.

  “Here you go, boy.” PC Boulton indicated a spot over by the radiator and Baxter, after a moment, sloped over and lay down with an almost human sigh.

  “See you tomorrow, then,” Kate said, waving. She hugged her coat tighter to herself as she walked back out into the cold.

  Driving home, she spared a thought for Charlie Petworth. She’d lost count of the times he’d been arrested for theft. It was almost always something small, something inconsequential. Occasionally he got sent to prison and was then released back into the community – which meant he went straight back to the streets. He’d got Baxter about a year ago and – now she came to think of it – this was the first bit of trouble they’d had with him for a while. Kate wondered whether Charlie had been ‘good’ so that he wouldn’t have to lose the dog if he ended up in prison again. Her thoughts flew from Charlie’s dog to her own cat, Merlin. He’d be yowling for food by now… She drove home, her mind full of Christmas lists and tasks and things to do.

  *

  The next morning was cold and bright, everything glittering with frost. Kate shivered as she scraped ice from the windscreen of her car before she could drive off. At least the central heating at work was efficient – almost too efficient. As Kate got to the office, she divested herself of scarf, gloves, hat, coat and cardigan, dumping them all in a pile by her desk.

  There was a garish, badly wrapped parcel sitting prominently in the middle of her desk.

  “What’s this?” Kate said suspiciously.

  Theo bounded up to her desk, grinning. “Secret Santa, innit? Didn’t you bring yours?”

  Kate had forgotten. “Oh. No.” she said lamely.

  “Well, aren’t you going to open it?”

  “Is this from you?” Kate asked.

  “It’s secret!” Theo cried in mock horror. “Go on. Open it.”

  Sighing, Kate did so, revealing a large cardboard box containing chocolates. On looking more closely, she realised the chocolates were shaped like tiny penises.

  “Theo,” she said, sharply. “This is definitely from you.”

  “Why do you say that?” Theo asked innocently.

  Kate sighed again. “No one could ever accuse you of subtlety.”

  “Aren’t you going to try one?”

  Kate gave him a look. “No. I am not.”

  Shoving the box of chocolate willies underneath a pile of paperwork, she turned to her computer, ignoring Theo’s giggles as he went back to his own desk. Shaking her head, Kate looked at the long list of emails awaiting her attention. There was one from PC Boulton, telling her that Charlie Petworth had been released that morning. The department store had declined to press charges. Kate sent a quick message of thanks back and then deleted the email.

  It was a quiet day, for once. Perhaps criminals like to take the holidays off as well, thought Kate, as she got to grips with paperwork that had been lying fallow for three weeks. She even had time to do her expense claims, something that almost never happened. At about three o’clock, she caved and ate a chocolate penis with her afternoon coffee, trying not to let Theo see her do it.

  It was five o’clock and Kate was thinking about heading home when the phone rang. It was the desk sergeant. “Kate? It’s Steve. I’ve got a couple here, reporting a missing baby.”

  “What?” Kate said sharply, although she’d heard perfectly well.

  “A missing baby.”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  The reception area of the police station was unusually empty, except for the two people standing by the front desk. Even if the area had been full of people, Kate would have been able to pick them out. They were so different to the people who usually frequented this area.

  “How can I help?” Kate asked, stepping up and introducing herself.

  The woman, tall and blonde and thin, swung around. “Oh, thank God. This is such a nightmare.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “I just turned around and Sophia was gone, just gone—”

  “I realise this must be very distressing for you, Mrs…?”

  “Walker. Amelia Walker. This is my husband, Paul.” Kate shook hands with the husband, a tall, handsome man in his forties.

  “If you could both just come through here with me…” Kate led them through to one of the more pleasant interview rooms. She sat them both down in chairs facing the desk, asked one of the PCs in the reception area to bring in coffee and returned to the room, shutting the door.

  “Now, how can I help you?”

  The woman, Amelia, spoke with a sob in her voice. “Our baby, Sophia – she’s been taken. I put her in the car and I went back to the house to get my bag and when I came out – she was gone.”

  Kate nodded. “Did you see anyone near the car?”

  Amelia was crying freely now. “No – no, nobody. I – I screamed and I ran down the road but there was nobody there. It was as if she’d just vanished into thin air.”

  Kate turned to the husband. “Mr Walker, were you there when this happened?”

  Paul Walker nodded. He was older than Kate had first assumed; fine lines radiated from the corners of his eyes and grey threaded through his dark hair. “Yes, I was working from home today – I’m a financial advisor – but I didn’t see anything. I was shut up in the study and the first I heard of it was Amelia screaming.”

  “And you came straight here?”

  Amelia shook her head. “Yes. I couldn’t wait for the police. I just had to come here straight away.”

  “Right.” Kate knew the machinery had to be set in motion. “Can you give me a description of Sophia? We’ll put out a call and get a search in motion. How old is she?”

  “She’s eighteen months.” Amelia fumbled in her handbag and withdrew her mobile phone. “Here she is.”

  Kate contemplated the photograph of the child; cherubic, blonde, blue-eyed. For a moment, she saw the photograph reproduced on the front pages of the broadsheets and the t
abloids and she saw the newspaper headlines of the future. Her gut twisted.

  “Please wait here, I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said and virtually ran out of the room.

  By sheer luck, Anderton was in his office. He looked up, startled, as Kate skidded into the room.

  “Missing child? My God. Right before Christmas,” was all he said, but he was already reaching for the phone before Kate had even finished speaking. She waited, jigging from foot to foot, as he spoke to various people, making sure that every box was ticked. Abbeyford didn’t often deal with child abduction but there was still a standard procedure to be followed. Waiting impatiently, Kate remembered the Charlie Fullman case, her first case upon joining the team here. She prayed for another happy ending in this instance.

  Kate ran back upstairs and back to the incident room, where the Walkers were waiting. Olbeck was already there, obviously alerted by Theo. Kate stood by the door, watching as he spoke to the Walkers with his usual gentle courtesy, glad that he was able to take over. He was so much better at this sort of thing than she was. She eyed Amelia Walker uneasily. The woman was clearly on the verge of breaking down – well, understandably. She was very thin. It was only now that Kate realised how thin she was. Fashionably dressed, wearing expensive labels that couldn’t disguise the too-big joints of her elbows, the jutting collar bones, the hollows beneath her cheekbones. Perhaps she was ill? Kate wondered but said nothing.

  After a moment, Olbeck paused and Kate was able to interject. “I’ve just informed the Chief Inspector, Mr and Mrs Walker. You can rest assured that we’ll be doing everything we can to find your daughter.”

  Amelia Walker said nothing. Her thin cheeks were glazed with tears. Paul Walker muttered a distracted “Thank you.”

  Kate hesitated but knew there was nothing more to add. She exchanged an eloquent glance with Olbeck – they’d worked together for so long now they could communicate without words – and muttered a goodbye, backing out of the room and shutting the door behind her.