The Fashion Police (Amber Fox Mystery No 1)
Page 27
I tried hard not to grin as Janice visibly squirmed in her seat. It was pretty difficult, but I just about managed to pull it off. Maybe I’d chosen the wrong career all along, and I should’ve actually been an actress.
Finally, it got to the part where Janice said, ‘Hang on. Let me get this straight. You want me to confess that you actually shot me by accident after I broke protocol at the shooting range by stepping out into your line of fire. And you want me to say how I cunningly and constructively manipulated your career advances, and purposefully got you thrown off the force...’
That’s when I couldn’t keep my enjoyment at bay any longer. My eyes crinkled up at the corners as I grinned like the Cheshire Cat. Then I strode to the door and slipped out, leaving Janice to get the biggest bollocking of her life.
****
Romeo brought round steaks, coleslaw, and potato salad. He even brought a special griddle pan from his house to sear the steaks with. The griddle pan touch made me smile.
‘What happened to the pot?’ Romeo asked, popping the cork on a bottle of wine.
‘Which pot?’
‘You know; the terracotta pot I bought you, which you said you liked.’
‘Oh that pot. Um…I had a slight accident.’
‘If you didn’t like it, you should have just said.’
‘I did like it. It was the most superb pot in the whole world, but smashing it was a matter of life or death.’
‘A matter of life or death involving a terracotta pot?’ He chuckled. ‘The weird thing is, that doesn’t even sound weird coming from you.’
‘I like your pan, too.’ I watched him get the pan to the right temperature before lifting the steaks onto the griddle with tongs, pressing them down so they sizzled in the heat.
‘You can’t have a special celebratory dinner without the proper equipment,’ Romeo said.
I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind. ‘How about we put dinner on hold and get out your other equipment?’
Romeo flipped the steaks over, switched off the gas, and turned to face me. ‘That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.’ He reached out, slid the back of his hand softly down my cheek, then picked me up and carried me to the bedroom.
‘So,’ I said as we lay in bed an hour later. ‘Why the hell were you driving Callum Bates’s van?’
‘I was doing an undercover operation, posing as a car thief to hopefully get enough evidence against the Cohens to put them away for life. I befriended Callum Bates, pretending to be this guy called Dave, and he introduced me to the Cohens. The plan was that Callum and I would steal high quality vehicles to order for the Cohens to export to Saudi Arabia. We intercepted their shipment and the Cohen brothers at the docks, and I was looking for Callum Bates to arrest him when I bumped into you at the industrial park.’
‘Why didn’t you just use one of the undercover police vehicles during the operation?’
‘The Cohens and Bates would’ve probably recognized every unmarked car we have, and Janice wouldn’t authorize bringing in another vehicle from elsewhere because she’s nuts, so I told Callum that I didn’t have any anonymous wheels at the moment. He loaned me his van to go scouting for possible targets to steal.’
‘Did you find Bates?’
‘No, I think someone’s tipped him off that we’re looking for him. I checked his usual hideouts, but there’s no sign of him. I’m guessing he’s done a disappearing act somewhere. But the good news is that after you left the police station, I did charge the Cohens with Heather’s murder and the robbery of the fashion collection and diamonds.’ He stroked my hair.
‘Well done, you.’
‘No, well done you. You just solved one of the most high profile cases we’ve ever had. I’m really proud of you, you know.’
‘Yes, but it wasn’t exactly the outcome I’d hoped for. I feel so sorry for Tia and Umberto.’ I exhaled a deflated sigh. ‘But I suppose at least Brad will be pleased that he won’t have to pay out the insurance claim on Callum’s stolen van.
‘Speaking of Brad…I’ve been feeling bad about telling you that you shouldn’t be working for him. I trust you completely, and I know that you wouldn’t…go back to him. It’s just that he’s obviously still in–’
‘I bet I know where you’ll be able to find Callum,’ I cut him off. I didn’t want to have this conversation. I wanted to be in denial. ‘And it’s somewhere that you’d never think of looking in a million years.’
‘Where?’
I gave him Bernie Crumpleton’s address.
‘How do you know that?’ He rolled onto his side, propping up his head in his hand, looking amused. ‘Do I even want to know how you know that?’
I tapped the side of my nose. ‘I have my ways.’
‘Well, I have some news that might cheer you up.’
‘What, Janice has been suspended, pending investigation?’
‘How did you know that?’
‘Just a wild guess.’ I smirked.
‘And the Chief Constable wanted me to tell you that you can have your old job back.’
I stared at the ceiling, looking, but not really seeing. My head spun like a twister at a hundred miles an hour.
‘What’s wrong?’ Romeo rolled on top of me. ‘God, Amber, you’ve been moping around, biting your fingernails to the quick, willing this to happen for the last six months.’
Exactly. So, what was wrong? Why did I feel so indifferent now about one of the biggest turnarounds of my life? I should’ve been ecstatic about this news. I should’ve been swinging from the chandeliers – although the fact that I didn’t have any in my apartment may have been a slight hindrance, but at the very least I should’ve been skipping around the room, whooping for joy. Instead, I felt like I was a little kid again, desperately waiting six months for Christmas to arrive, only to find that it was a huge anti-climax. I suddenly realized that I’d spent months craving for this to happen and now…now it just didn’t seem right. Had I finally moved on?
Maybe I needed to start a new chapter in my life. Maybe I just liked that fact that I had more freedom working for Brad, instead of dealing with all the rules and regulations of the police force. It would be good to make it under my own steam with no one breathing down my neck for once.
Or maybe I just didn’t want to face the prospect of never seeing Brad again.
I forced a smile and tried to muster up some happiness. The knife of guilt that had permanently impaled itself in my chest gave a painful twist. ‘Nothing’s wrong. Come on, let’s eat. I’m starved.’ I turned my cheek to avoid him.
****
The next morning I got up late. After all that had happened in the last few weeks, I seriously deserved a lie in. Romeo had already left for the station, mumbling something about arresting Bates.
I pottered around the house, drinking coffee and asking life advice from Marmalade; generally doing anything I could to put off making a decision about whether to accept my old job back or not. Marmalade’s advice seemed to consist solely of sleeping, eating, and snoring, which probably seemed like quite sound advice under the circumstances. It wasn’t until he started licking his bits and bobs that I thought he was really onto something. If only us humans could do that, we’d save ourselves a whole heap of trouble with the opposite sex.
Mum rang in the midst of my dilemma. ‘Hi, honey. I wanted to congratulate you on the good news.’
‘Mmm.’
‘What does that mean? Aren’t you happy?’
‘Yes – no – I don’t know.’
‘Well, you don’t have to make a decision right away, do you? Why don’t you have a think about things for a while?’
‘I have made one decision, though.’
‘What’s that, honey?’
‘I think I’ve definitely decided that I’m going to move in with Romeo. What do you think?’
‘Wow! That’s fantastic news. What did Romeo say?’
‘I haven’t told him yet.’
Mum paused for a second.
<
br /> ‘What?’ I asked.
‘How can you say “think” and “definitely” in the same sentence? And don’t you think that it’s a bit strange that you’re letting me know before Romeo? Surely, he’s the one you should be telling first.’
‘Are you trying to get me to change my mind?’
‘I’m not even sure you’ve made up your mind.’
‘Mmm.’ I hung up.
****
I decided to head in to Hi-Tec. I knew there were some loose ends that needed to be tied up there before I made any decision. Sliding into the Lemon, I turned the key. Nothing happened. Not a chug or a choking noise or even a mini splutter. I gave up after a few more tries and slammed the door. I thought about kicking it, but I didn’t think it would help, so I set off walking to the office.
I toddled down the road with the sun shining down on my back and the birds twittering away in the trees, so completely lost within my own head that I didn’t notice when a black limo pulled up alongside me and Sally jumped out of the driver’s side, followed by Tracy. Actually, Tracy didn’t jump, he kind of hobbled, what with the plaster cast over his foot and all. He looked quite fetching with the bandage on his head, as well. At least his accessories matched.
Tracy grabbed hold of one arm, while Sally grabbed the other, and they lifted me off the ground. I looked like one of those cartoon characters as my legs carried on a walking motion in thin air.
‘What now?’ I huffed.
‘My boss wants to talk to you.’ Tracy glared at me. He didn’t look too pleased to see me again, but the feeling was mutual.
The passenger door to the limo creaked open, and I got bundled inside. Sally and Tracy clicked the locks shut, and stood outside the door with arms folded and legs spread in a wide stance, looking like they’d watched the Sopranos too many times.
‘Hey!’ I cried, then froze in surprise. Sitting in the other passenger seat was Mr. Hottie Model from Fandango’s office. ‘Who are you?’ I asked, thinking that the tinted windows and locked doors made me feel like I was stuck in a crypt with a blood-sucking vampire.
Mr. Hottie held out his hand and motioned for me to give him something.
I frowned. ‘What?’
‘You have something I want.’ He looked me up and down slowly, then licked his lips.
I gulped. ‘I’m not on the menu.’
‘Nobody likes a smart-ass.’
‘And nobody likes a clever-dick either.’
‘Give me your rucksack.’ He snapped his fingers.
I rolled my eyes and handed it over.
I watched with confusion as he tipped the contents out onto the space between us.
‘Aha!’ He picked up Brad’s camera, turned it on, and flicked through the pictures. ‘Where’s the one of me?’ he looked up sharply.
‘Which one of you?’ I said, racking my brains to try and think what he was talking about. That’s when I had a sudden brain wave. The photo he wanted was on my camera, which just happened to be safely stashed at the office in exactly the same place where I’d left it to be recharged, which also happened to be a good bargaining point. It meant that he wouldn’t kill me, at least not right away.
‘Don’t play the innocent with me. You took a photo of me at Fandango’s office, and I want it back.’
‘Oh, I get it now. I know who you are,’ I said.
‘I know who you are.’
‘I said it first.’
‘Do you want a medal?’
‘You’re the new secret Godfather of the Fetuccini family.’ I stared him in the eyes. ‘And no one could identify you because you’ve never been caught on camera…until now.’
He clapped his hands slowly. ‘Bravo, Ms. Fox. So, where’s the camera?’
A sudden thought popped into my head. This was my chance to help Fandango and Tia, and a way to make sure I didn’t end up wearing last season’s unflattering concrete boots. And it had to work, because otherwise, I might be the first person in history to die from crapping themselves. ‘Who else knows that Umberto Fandango is really Carlos Bagliero?’
‘Only me and Enzo Fetuccini.’ Mr. Hottie’s cell phone rang. He answered, nodded a few times, said ‘no’ and ‘yes’ a few times, followed by ‘uh-huh,’ and hung up. ‘I’ll rephrase my answer. Enzo’s dead now. I’m the only one who knows about Fandango.’
‘I’ve got a proposition for you.’
He looked me up and down again.
I shivered.
‘Does it involve you lap dancing on me, naked?’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘Er…no.’
‘Pity.’
‘Several copies of the photo are in very safe locations all over the world. Places where you’ll never find them,’ I fibbed. ‘I promise never to release the photo to anyone as long as you promise to leave Umberto Fandango alone and never tell anyone about his past, so that he can get his life back to the way it was before Fetuccini found out.’
Mr. Hottie considered this for a few moments, head tilted to one side, eyes coolly summing me up.
‘If Fandango, Tia, or I wind up dead, I’ve left instructions for the photo to be released to the press, Interpol, the FBI, and the UN.’
‘Why the UN?’
I shrugged. ‘Why not? I have a personal hotline to the Secretary General. So, you only have two options, really. If the photo gets released, it will put a stop to your undercover crime career overnight, not to mention that fact that the Corleone and Rossi families will probably want to accidentally-on-purpose shoot you in the head now they can identify you. On the other hand, if the photo remains a secret, Fandango can get on with his life, you can continue with yours unhindered, and we’ll all still be alive to enjoy it. It’s a win-win solution for everyone. So, why don’t we forget this conversation ever happened?’
He stared at me. Finally, he said, ‘What conversation?’
‘Good choice.’ I pushed open the door, whacking Tracy on the back of his knees. His legs crumpled out from underneath him, and he fell onto the floor, banging his head in the process.
‘Can I shoot her, boss?’ Tracy wailed.
‘Ha! You could try.’ I eyed his foot.
‘No, you idiot.’ Mr. Hottie stared with distaste at Tracy, who was struggling to get up without putting any weight on his plastered foot. Then Mr. Hottie looked up at me. ‘Any time you fancy doing the lap dance, let me know.’ He gave me a smile like he’d already seen me naked, and liked what he’d seen.
****
At precisely three p.m. Fandango and Tia strolled into Hi-Tec’s office, bearing gifts of champagne and a platter of hors d’oeuvres, which included the fly poop.
Hacker pulled out his chair for Tia to take a seat. Tia blushed and gave him goo-goo eyes.
‘I don’t know how to thank you.’ Fandango handed me the champagne and passed the fly poop accoutrements to Brad.
I took the two bottles. ‘You don’t have to thank me.’
‘On the contrary, honey, I feel like I do.’ He pulled an envelope from the pocket of his perfectly tailored Fandango trousers. ‘Here.’ He handed it to me.
I gave him a questioning look and ripped open the envelope. When I pulled out a check for twenty-five thousand pounds, my jaw almost fell off. ‘I can’t possibly take this.’ I glanced up at him in shock.
‘Gee, honey, I’ve got loads of the stuff. It’s only right to reward someone who’s saved your life.’
‘Dad will be insulted if you don’t take it. So it’s settled. You have to take it,’ Tia said.
Brad expertly pried open a champagne cork and poured the bubbling liquid into five glasses.
I managed to reattach my jaw long enough to take a sip.
‘Tia’s got something she’d like to say,’ Fandango said.
‘Er…I was wondering…um, I’ve had such an awesome time in the last two weeks with Amber, jumping out of burning buildings and stuff. I was kind of wondering if you had any jobs going here, Brad.’ She did the snorty hyena giggle again.
<
br /> Brad’s eyes fell on me. ‘Well, we do need a new receptionist, but that’s not really a full time job. So, I guess it just depends on whether Amber thinks she needs an assistant.’
‘Huh?’ I said.
‘Let me put it this way; will you be coming back tomorrow, Foxy?’ he said, and we both knew exactly what he meant. He attempted a smile, but it sat unsteadily on his face as he witnessed my hesitation.
So here it is: Crunch time! And I haven’t got a clue what to do.
Because now I had an extra twenty-five thousand pound bonus, I didn’t have to stay at Hi-Tec until I found a new job. I could leave today. Right now, in fact. But…
But what?
But then, would it really be so bad to keep both Romeo and Brad in my life? And after all, what’s a girl to do when she’s in love with two people?
Help!
I gave him a soft shake of my head. ‘I’m sorry, Brad, but no.’
He stood there, keeping his eyes on mine, and I saw a shadow pass over them.
‘Tomorrow is Saturday. You’ll see me bright and early on Monday.’ I grinned.
The End
If you enjoyed The Fashion Police, read on for an extract of the second Amber Fox mystery Be Careful What You Wish For. For more details, please visit
http://www.sibelhodge.com/
Be Careful What You Wish For
For fans of Janet Evanovich, Kate Johnson, and Gemma Halliday...
Armed with cool sarcasm and uncontrollable hair, feisty insurance investigator Amber Fox is back in a new mystery combining murder and mayhem with romance and chicklit…
Three deaths.
A safety deposit box robbery.
The boxing heavyweight champion of the world.
Somehow, they’re all related, and Amber has to solve a four year old crime to find out why.
As she stumbles across a trail of dead bodies and a web of lies spanning both sides of the social divide, it’s starting to get personal. Someone thinks Amber’s poking her nose in where it’s not wanted, sparking off a game of fox and mouse – only this time, Amber’s the mouse.