“So, Charlie, you and Amber are still an item then huh?” Ennis says with a chuckle. “I’d have thought she’d have driven you insane by now!”
I kick him under the table. “Hey!”
“I’m just about managing to keep my sanity intact so far,” Charlie replies, playing along and winking at me.
I lean closer to Ennis and lower my voice. “How are you doing these days? It’s been a year since…”
“Since Joel was murdered. It’s OK, Amber, you can say it. It’s still tough going if you let your thoughts dwell on it but I try not to let that happen too often.”
“And your parents? How are they doing?”
“Mum’s in therapy still but I think Dad’s all right. Mostly, anyway. To be honest filming on location out in Australia came at just the right time. It was a very welcome distraction. Being out there got us out of the media spotlight which suited me just fine. Since we got back there’s been a little flicker of interest from some of the papers but not much, thankfully. For them, Joel’s murder is old news now.”
“So how do you two know Amelia?” a female voice interrupts.
“I’m Fran,” the woman in question adds. “I was at drama school with Amelia.” She tugs on the arm of the man sitting next to her. “And this is my husband Spencer.”
Spencer nods and smiles but says nothing.
“So?” Fran prompts. “How do you two know Amelia?”
“I’ve worked with her a few times,” Charlie replies, lying easily.
Fran’s eyes light up. “Oh, you’re in the film industry? Actor? Director?”
“Neither. I’m in the safety business. I provide specialist security.”
“You mean you’re a bodyguard?” She frowns. “I wasn’t aware Amelia needed a bodyguard these days. Is that what happens when you win an Oscar then?”
“I’m not a bodyguard and I’m certainly not here on business. This trip is purely for pleasure,” Charlie replies smoothly.
“So what sort of security do you supply?” she asks.
Persistent little madam isn’t she?
“Whatever type of security is required,” Charlie says then takes a sip of his drink.
“Secret stuff. Right. I see.” Fran nods. “Unfortunately our lives are as far from the showbiz lifestyle as you can get. Spencer is an office manager and I’m a personal assistant. All your average boring nine to five stuff.”
“So you never followed up on drama school and pursued acting as a career then?” I ask.
“No, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be, no matter how much I tried.” Fran turns to her husband and changes the subject. “Darling, what did you order for dinner this evening?”
I take it Fran isn’t keen on talking about her own acting career then. Or rather her lack of an acting career. My nosiness kicks in. She’s holding back and I want to know why. I’m itching to get to the bottom of her story but for now I let it go. There will be better opportunities. I’ll try to get her alone. She might be more likely to talk then.
“It’s so sad that Amelia and Ty can’t be with us tonight,” says Ty’s father as he stands up, raising a glass in a toast. “I’m sure you’ll all join me in wishing Ty a speedy recovery from his accident. As soon as the doctors declare him to be well enough my wife and I will be taking him straight home with us to London where we can ensure he receives the best of care during his recuperation.”
So his mummy and daddy are planning on whisking Ty off to their home in London, are they? I wonder if Amelia knows about that?
After we’ve all enjoyed a dinner worthy of a Michelin starred restaurant we congregate in the lounge and make pleasant chit-chat over what is probably eye watering expensive Cognac. The flames of the fire are still licking at the air and lending a soporific warmth to proceedings.
I look around, trying to take in as much detail as I can. I’m still trying to perfect the visual sweep which the other CCIA agents I’ve worked with do so quickly and easily. Charlie is brilliant at checking out a room in a matter of seconds. Bad boy Dan Stone, Charlie’s nemesis, can do it without even looking as though he’s scoping a room. Ditto for man-eater Martha, who I worked with on a case involving a murdered pop star on a Scottish island. In one discreet glance it always seems as though they have the measure of a room and its occupants. My visual sweeps however are not nearly so covert or effective yet. I wonder if they ever will be.
I spot Howard Dawson helping himself to another drink and wander towards him.
“Mr Dawson, I’m so sorry to hear about Ty’s accident. How dreadful for you and your wife to have to go through all of this. You both must have been so worried about him.”
He nods then sips his drink before replying. “Terrible business. It would never have happened if he hadn’t got himself involved with showbiz types.”
“But…” I’m about to quiz him further when he cuts off any further conversation between us.
“I have to go and check on my wife. She had a headache during dinner and wasn’t very well at all.”
I watch him walk away. Oh well, so much for trying to find out any useful information there.
On the far wall of the room I spot a gallery of black and white photos, all in the same cream frames. I wander over to take a closer look. Some of the photos document the various stages of the chalet being built; some are landscapes of the mountains. The majority though are of people. I lean closer and work my way through them, from top left to bottom right, trying to figure out if any of the people in the pictures are recognisable.
“I see you and Charlie are still going strong.”
I jump at the voice, so close to my ear. Siobhan. She envelopes me in a perfume-scented hug. I’m still getting used to this version of Siobhan. All she used to do was glare at me. Now she acts as though we’re the best of friends.
“Hi, Siobhan,” I smile. “You’re looking very well. It looks as though Australia agreed with you.”
“Thanks. You too. Though in your case I would say it’s dating sexy Charlie that’s got you looking so well.” She lowers her voice. “How’s the job going?”
“Good. Mostly. There’s a lot to learn but the agency guys are helping me loads,” I whisper back.
“I bet there is,” Siobhan replies. “Still, must be good to take a break in surroundings like this huh? I bet you’re in need of a holiday.”
I nod then raise my voice to normal volume. “So how do you know Amelia then?”
“Oh I don’t really,” she replies. “It’s Ennis who knows her. They worked on a movie together last year and Amelia and Ty invited us along knowing that we’d only just returned from filming in Australia and poor Ennis was in great need of a break.”
“How are you two lovely young things doing?”
I look up to see a man I know to be Grant Wardle hovering over us. Mentally I run through the chalet’s guest list. He’s engaged to Cara Dawson, Ty’s sister. They’re staying in the Sapphire Suite.
Some people you can tell at an instant are slimy. I immediately slot Grant Wardle into that category. He’s about six foot tall with foppish blond hair, a perma-tan and a leering smile.
“I’m Grant,” he gushes. “And you are?”
“Thirsty,” Siobhan says and makes a hasty retreat, heading for the bar in the corner of the room manned by Hannah.
Thanks very much, Siobhan.
“So it’s just the two of us now then, lovely lady. I’ve told you my name, now it’s your turn.”
“Your name is Grant,” I deadpan.
For a moment he looks confused. Then he laughs and puts a hand on my arm. “You cheeky little thing! No, I meant tell me what your name is.”
Duh.
“Amber.”
“Perfect. With hair your colour that’s the perfect name for you.” He leans closer. “Before I swept Cara off her feet and proposed, I used to have a thing for redheads.”
Oh goodie.
“I’m not a redhead. My hair’s more blonde with a brown k
ind of red tinge.”
“Nonsense! So,” he turns to inspect the room and his eyes settle on Charlie who is working the space like a pro and making polite (and I’m betting useful for the investigation) conversation with everyone. “You’re with him aren’t you?”
“Not right at this moment, no. He’s all the way over the other side of the room.”
“Ha ha! You are a funny one.”
Cara pushes her way through a cluster of people and heads straight for us both with a chastising look on her face. “Grant! There you are. I wondered where you’d escaped to.”
Grant lifts a manicured hand to cover his mouth and whispers to me. “Escape being the operative word.”
Ah. All is not perfect in Grant and Cara’s relationship then I take it.
“Come over here and listen to Daddy tell his story about what happened at the golf club last week.”
Grant winks at me as Cara whisks him away, throwing a glare at me as she does so.
“Found out anything interesting?” I recognise that soft but deep voice beside me.
“Possibly. How about you?”
Charlie nods. “We’ll compare notes when we get back to our room. Speaking of which, it’s late and I’m ready to head up there. How about you?”
“Shouldn’t we stay until the last guests go to their rooms to maximise questioning opportunities?”
“Nah, I’ve already maximised them for now. They’ll all still be here tomorrow,” Charlie surprises me by answering. “Besides we have a lot of work to do.”
Ah. That’s the Charlie I know. Still focused on the job in hand.
I’m barely through the bedroom door before Charlie has his laptop up and running and we’re logging into the agency database. He taps in all the names of the people we know of so far out here. As the search results start to filter back through we each get online and start reading through them, printing off, making notes. We work well into the early hours of the morning collating intel (see, I’m getting into the spy-speak now). By three o’clock we have basic reports back on everyone we’ve asked for, have worked through the file and highlighted bits which may be of relevance to the case and bits which require more in depth investigation or background stuff.
Charlie leans back against the pillows of the bed. “So who do we have as our first main suspect to tackle?” he asks.
“We don’t,” I reply, flopping down next to him, a headache thudding behind my eyes. “From the details we have so far there doesn’t appear to be any one person jumping out as a likely suspect above the others. Not yet.”
He gets to his feet, picks up the sheaf of papers and starts reading through them again. “We have to narrow it down more. We need to go through all of these again and again until we get our key in-house suspects.”
“I’m done in. Can we leave it for now and get some sleep?” I plead, struggling to keep my eyes open. I know this case is important but I am soooo tired.
“You can if you want. I’ll go through these reports again. We must be missing something.”
I groan, switch off my bedside light and crawl under the duvet still in the leggings and sweatshirt I changed into earlier when we got back to the bedroom.
Then I feel guilty. I’m trying to sleep when Charlie’s right; we should be focused on compiling and prioritising our suspects list. Tomorrow we have to start our questioning and we can’t do it the easy way because nobody knows we’re here to work not play. Which means everything will take so much longer to do. We have to get chatting with each of them in turn, subtly try to find out more about them and their lives while not coming across as creepy or arousing suspicions. Meanwhile Amelia’s weirdo stalker is still out there (or in here, staying at the chalet, which makes it all even more worrying) and who knows what his next move will be? Who else is he going to threaten, shoot or cause to have an ‘accident’? I sigh. Charlie’s focus is always on the case and the client. He isn’t worried about getting some sleep. Will I ever be like that if I decide to try and train to be an agent? Could I, one day, move up from my current support officer role? I snuggle under the deliciously soft duvet and try to push away the guilt as my eyes slide closed of their own accord.
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Amber Reed Mystery books by Zanna Mackenzie:
In The Stars – The Case Of The Celebrity Murder
On Trial – The Case Of The Vanishing Bride
Precious – The Case Of The Murdered Pop Star
Forever Mine –The Case Of The Movie Star Stalker
Past Perfect – The Case Of The Soap Opera Murders
Celebrity Mystery books by Zanna Mackenzie
Murder On The Menu
Holiday Heist
About the author:
Zanna Mackenzie lives in the UK on the Derbyshire / Leicestershire border with her husband, 4 dogs, a vegetable patch that’s home to far too many weeds and an ever expanding library of books waiting to be read.
Being a freelance writer and editor of business publications is her ‘day job’ but, at every opportunity, she can be found scribbling down notes on scenes for whatever novel she’s working on. She loves it when the characters in her novels take on minds of their own and start deviating from the original plot!
Find out more about Zanna on her website or over on Twitter or connect with her on Facebook
Precious: A Humorous Romantic Cozy Mystery (Amber Reed Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency Mystery Book 2) Page 21