Coffee. Christmas. Murder. In that order.
Three Boxing Days. Three dead girls.
And the killer's already in the queue.
DCI Fiona Weston has spent three Christmases failing to catch the man Hartington Heath calls the Christmas Killer.
No team, no working CCTV, no leads—just table four at The Grind, a pumpkin spice latte she didn't order, and Emily, the barista who remembers everyone's usual.
You'll meet him in chapter six. He's the quiet one by the window, cutting his cake into neat little cubes, tipping generously, and deciding who he wants for Christmas this year.
She's been hunting him for three years. He's been sitting at the next table.
A dark, funny, small-town Christmas crime novella. For readers who like their festive reads with a seasonal latte—and a body count.
