Amber Reed Mysteries Volume One: Romantic Comedy Mystery Series Box Set (Amber Reed Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency Mystery Box Set Book 1)

by Zanna Mackenzie

  “I was going to the moor. I fancied a walk.”

  “In the pitch black?” he counters.

  I fumble around in the door pocket for a moment, remembering something Debs has said many a time about her car’s fondness for breaking down on dark lanes. “I have a torch!” I say, pulling it from the door and waving it in his face.

  He dodges back just in time to avoid the torch hitting him on the nose and looks at me as though I’m some kind of madwoman. “Oh well that makes perfect sense then. I didn’t realise you had a torch.”

  “Are you making fun of me?” I scowl at him.

  “Of course not. I’ve more important things to do.” He slams the car door closed. “Go home, Amber.”

  “No.” I wind down the car window. Yes, wind down. The car is that old and that basic. No electric windows on this model.

  He bends down and peers into the car. “No?”

  “That’s what I said. No.”

  “Amber, please,” he starts to reason. “This isn’t the time or the place for an argument. I need to go to the quarry and you need to abandon your midnight moorland walk plans and go home. It could be too dangerous around here. You’ve not forgotten about our dumper truck friends from before surely?”

  “I’m coming with you,” I reply stubbornly.

  “Go home, Amber,” he repeats and starts to walk back to his car which I now spot parked up behind some trees.

  I watch as he climbs in and drives off. How arrogant is that? He just shouts his orders and expects me to obey them? Perhaps that’s what they do at the CCIA but it isn’t what I do. I coax the car into gear and begin to follow him.

  He stops the car and gets out throwing his hands in the air with an exasperated expression on his face. I swear I can see him counting to ten even from here.

  I put the button down to lock my door and then, as he walks towards me, I remember the car doesn’t have central locking, so quickly lean across and lock the passenger door too. He strolls up to the window and gestures for me to open it. I wind it down a fraction of an inch.

  “Amber I refuse to talk with you through a one inch gap. Open the bloody window properly.”

  I wind it half way down and he crouches down so his head is at the same height as mine.

  “Be sensible. I don’t want you getting involved in this stuff tonight. Please. I’m asking nicely. Go home.”

  “No. I can help. Two pairs of eyes and hands are better than one and I’m capable of looking after myself. I’m even armed,” I add, brandishing the torch again.

  He sighs. “You’re not going to give up are you?”

  “No. I’m not. Let me help you find out what’s going on at the quarry. What happened to Joel.”

  He gets to his feet and raises his hands in a I give up gesture. “OK. Make sure your car is completely off the road and preferably out of sight as well. Pull it forward a bit so it’s behind those trees then come and get in my car.”

  “You make that sound so inviting,” I say sarcastically, earning myself another look of annoyance.

  Shaking his head he adds, “I have a definite sense of deja vu here. I must be going mad agreeing to this.”

  He walks off before stopping, turning and adding, I suspect with more than a touch of sarcasm himself, “Don’t forget to bring your torch!”

  Close to the entrance to the quarry Charlie parks his car in a dip behind some more trees. I never realised before how useful trees can be when you’re on some covert night time mission. The woodland is quite dense now, crowding around us, looking foreboding and impenetrable in the darkness.

  “Now what?” I ask, gripping my torch more tightly than is necessary, my knuckles white.

  “Now we walk. If we cut across the edge of the wood, we can access the quarry so we’re not too far from the office.”

  I get out of the car and try to look as though I’m perfectly at ease with the concept of breaking and entering a quarry in the middle of the night.

  “Wow,” Charlie nods approvingly. “You really carry off the cat burglar look very well.”

  “Ha ha, very funny!” I do a little twirl in my black stretch jeans, close fitting black jumper and flat black boots. I fix a brave smile on my face but inside I’m a nervous wreck. My whole body is quivering with nerves. And cold. The temperature has plummeted and I’m desperately trying to stop my teeth chattering. I stamp up and down on the spot to warm up a little and Charlie throws me a strange look.

  I’m not about to admit how scared (or cold) I feel to Charlie though, who is nonchalantly pulling on a black woolly hat as though we’re out for an evening stroll with the family dog, not breaking into a quarry. He hands me an identical hat. Standard issue CCIA assignment apparel? He probably has a bag full of them.

  “Put this on.”

  I eye it sceptically.

  “This isn’t a fashion show,” he says, seeing the way I’m looking at it. “Besides it will complete your sexy cat burglar outfit perfectly.”

  I pull the hat down over my hair until the edge is only just above the top of my eyes. Briefly I wonder if his comment means he thinks my outfit is sexy or if he thinks I’m sexy.

  Am I crazy getting myself dragged into all of this goodness knows what going on up at the quarry? Probably, but I feel I have no choice. I promised Ennis for a start. Plus, OK, I admit, I’m surprised, but a part of me is enjoying being involved, doing something practical to try to help solve the mystery of what happened to Joel.

  “Anyway, what’s this burglar business? I didn’t think breaking and entering was on the agenda for tonight?”

  “You never know what’s on the agenda for tonight,” he replies smoothly.

  He too is dressed head to toe in the cat burglar uniform – i.e. black everything. When he opens the boot of the car the interior light illuminates a black rucksack which he reaches for. I have no idea how heavy it is from the way Charlie easily slips it over his shoulders but it does look bulky.

  What’s inside it I wonder? Is there a gun, all black, heavy and metallic, nestled inside amongst whatever other equipment Charlie deems necessary for the mission tonight? How do I feel about the prospect of sharing a midnight walk with a man who might be carrying a gun? A gun is dangerous. A gun also offers us a degree of protection though…

  It’s no good, I have to ask. “Charlie?”

  “Yep.” He sets off at a pace across the woods, towards the rim of the quarry and I rush to catch up with him.

  “What’s in the bag?”

  He answers without a beat of hesitation. “Equipment for tonight.”

  “What kind of equipment?”

  “All sorts.”

  “Does that, by any chance, include a gun?”

  He slows and looks at me. “Do you want it to include a gun?”

  I haven’t figured out the answer to that question yet. How would I feel if Charlie admitted there was a gun? If there was, then clearly he would know how to use it properly. Has he ever killed a person? I swallow with difficulty at the thought.

  “You’re not answering the question,” I say, nervously rubbing my now sweaty hands down the legs of my jeans.

  “Neither are you.”

  “I don’t know if I want it to include a gun or not,” I eventually answer. “I don’t like the idea of a gun. But what if the guys at the quarry have one? What if…”

  An owl hoots somewhere close by and I feel my shoulders tense even more. Every little noise seems to be amplified. Every little noise sounds terrifying. I swallow and try to think calming thoughts. The moon puts in an appearance, lighting up the eerie woodland landscape around us.

  “Relax.” Charlie briefly rests a hand on my shoulder. “I seriously doubt Liam and Ryan, the Brothers Grim at the quarry, will have guns. This is deepest darkest Derbyshire here, not the Wild West. Right. We’re at the edge of the quarry now. You OK?”

  I nod even though I’m far from OK. Going back into the scary woods might actually be preferable to facing the steep clif
f and winding path down into the quarry. “As much as I’ll ever be anyway.”

  “If you’re doing this then I need you to understand I’m responsible for you. In truth you shouldn’t even be here but, once again, you’ve persuaded me to let you. So these are the rules. I’m in charge; you do exactly as I say. Understood?”

  He has that I-mean-business look in his eyes again and for a moment I stop feeling as though I’m turning into an icicle and experience a flash of warmth all over. “Are you always this bossy?” I ask.

  He continues looking at me for a moment longer, as though he’s contemplating something, before replying. “Not always, no.”

  “You mean sometimes you actually let someone else be in control?”

  I’m sure there’s amusement in his voice as he replies, “Sometimes.”

  I can’t help wondering when the occasions are that he happily lets somebody else be in control. I edge a little closer and try to meet his gaze again in the darkness. Is that a twinkle in his eyes?

  “Understood?” he repeats. “Are we clear about the rules?”

  He is strict, isn’t he?

  “Yes.” I nod, pushing a little fantasy about him relinquishing control firmly out of my head. I can’t be attracted to him. Not now, when we’re in the middle of an investigation. I kick my foot nervously at a stone in the rough ground. The spring air smells damp and hangs around me like a cloak of cold. I wish I’d thought to bring an extra layer of clothing. “Understood.”

  “Good.”

  Up ahead of us is a row of security fencing which stretches away into the dark. It must be about seven foot high and looks as though it has barbed wire on the top for good measure. Just in case anybody is stupid enough to try to climb over. It lends an ominous feel to proceedings. I hope we’re not going to be the ones stupid enough to try to climb over. Speaking of climbing over things – how are we going to get through?

  “Correct me if I’m wrong but aren’t there huge security fences all around the quarry?” I say, pointing at the barrier ahead of us.

  “In most areas but not all remember? Such as in the area where Joel fell to his death.”

  I gesture to the particular patch of very solid looking fence a few feet in front of us. “Then why are we not getting in through one of those areas instead?”

  “Because this area offers the nearest access to the quarry offices. Don’t panic, we can get through this fence; no worries.”

  I eye the fence. It looks pretty secure to me. “How exactly?”

  He shakes his head but he’s smiling. “Again with the questions.”

  When we reach the fence Charlie pulls some wire cutters from his backpack and cuts a hole at the bottom of it big enough for us to crawl through. The ground is wet and a mixture of earth and rocks. Charlie is through to the other side in seconds. I kneel down to follow, my trousers instantly damp, and try to wriggle through the hole, snagging my jacket on a piece of the cut wire. Charlie, still on his knees, deftly separates my coat from the wire then grips my arm and helps me through and onto my feet.

  As he slips the cutters back into the bag I nod towards them. “Standard issue agency equipment are they?”

  “Yes, they are actually.” He grabs my hand and leads me down the steep path towards the offices.

  An automatic, movement-activated security light -well, at least I hope it’s been triggered automatically- comes on, flooding the yard near the offices with bright white light. The huge metal gantry which delivers stone into the backs of the lorries looms above the quarry yard and looks like something from a sci-fi movie – some giant metal monster.

  Charlie ducks out of sight behind one of the lorries parked up for the night, pulling me with him, and stares around him. I love how he seems to take in every detail of our surroundings with just the quickest visual sweep. I squint into the semi-darkness on the outskirts of the security lights trying to do my own visual reconnaissance.

  “Are we going to break in?” I whisper, crouching beside him.

  “No.”

  “OK. I’ll rephrase that. Are you going to break in?”

  “No.”

  “But…”

  Charlie fishes in the pocket of his jeans. “I have a key. No breaking and entering necessary. I’ll just need to disable the security alarm first. Unfortunately I don’t have the code to switch it off properly once we’re inside.”

  “I’m not going to even ask where you got that key from.”

  He lets out a chuckle. “Remember earlier when I accidentally left my hat in the quarry office?”

  “You found a key at the same time?”

  “I wouldn’t say found exactly. More like searched in a few drawers for it.”

  “OK. What are we waiting for then? Let’s go.” I want to get this over and done with as quickly as possible.

  He places a steadying hand on my arm. “First, we need to wait until the security light goes off again. It should only be on for a minute or so. Second, we aren’t going anywhere. I am.”

  I begin to protest but he cuts me off. “I need you to stay here. Keep your head down. It’ll take me a few minutes to sort the alarm. Stay here, OK? Promise me. And I mean a proper promise.”

  “I promise,” I reply solemnly. Like I’m about to go wandering off in a dark quarry on my own? I’m not that crazy.

  “Good. From here you’ll see when I get the door open. At that point, when I gesture, come over, but keep low and behind the vehicles as much as you can so you hopefully don’t trigger the lights again.”

  The cheeky part of me wants to ask what kind of gesture he’ll be making but I bite my tongue. Now is not the time. Nerves are making me feel all tingly and scared and I blame those same nerves for making me attempt to crack jokes about rude gestures.

  I wait, hunched up, the smell of diesel and dust making me wrinkle my nose. I watch Charlie doing whatever he’s doing to the security alarm box on the side of the offices. It doesn’t take long before he’s opened the door and beckons across to me. I creep across the uneven ground, avoiding the giant puddles, being sure to stay low and hidden as much as possible as instructed.

  Inside the office Charlie, wearing black gloves, is already opening and searching desk drawers. “Don’t touch anything at all,” he warns.

  “Finger prints,” he says by way of an explanation as he sifts through documents in a folder.

  “But…” I stumble over something and yelp. Charlie gives me a look, shining his torch to the ground in front of me where a rubbish bin has now spilt its contents across the floor. Tin cans, old newspapers and fast food wrappers are scattered everywhere. I bend to pick it all up but Charlie gets there first, waves his gloved hands at me to remind me about fingerprints, and proceeds to scoop the contents back into the bin.

  Frustrated I stand and watch him systematically search the office and wish I’d thought to bring along a pair of gloves. Come to that, why hadn’t Charlie got some spare gloves in his car? Perhaps he had but chose not to offer me them. Too late now to go back and fetch some though.

  “Mmm, interesting,” he mutters as he takes photo after photo of some papers using his mobile phone.

  “What’s interesting?” I ask irritably. “Tell me.”

  “Shhh,” he replies. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

  More photos of papers. I try to peer over Charlie’s shoulder but he’s too tall, even hunched over a desk examining papers, so I move to his side and lean across as he flicks through some documents instead. “A planning application?” I ask, recognising the headed paper and the logo of the local council. “What’s it for?”

  “An extension to the quarry by the looks of it, further out towards the edge of the moor, near those ancient standing stones where Joel fell to his death.”

  “What?” I gasp. “The council will never grant that.”

  “They haven’t put the application in yet, these forms haven’t been signed.” He glances at me. “Have a nose around and see if you can spot anything whic
h might shed some light on what’s going on around here. But don’t touch anything.”

  I look around. The office is still a complete tip. If Charlie had come in and ransacked the place in search of whatever he’s looking for then I doubt the Turston brothers would even have noticed. I take a step nearer to a large noticeboard and begin to read the various things pinned up on it. Fire regulations. Health and safety certificates. A wall planner with various dates circled in bright red marker pen. I notice today’s date is one of those circled and wonder what it means. Is it significant? I suppose I’d better mention it. “Charlie, look at…”

  Charlie interrupts me. “Amber. Stay calm. I think we’ve got company.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “What?” I drop my torch. In a split second Charlie picks it up, takes my hand and pulls me across to a door in the corner of the room.

  Lights from a vehicle sweep across the wall of the office and my throat constricts. We’re about to get caught. “What’s going on?” I whisper. “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know do I?” he snaps. He yanks the door open and tucks me inside what appears to be a large store cupboard. “Look, stay here.”

  I can just about see him as he moves around the furniture in the office which has been plunged back into darkness as the car is parked up, headlights switched off.

  “Be careful,” I hiss as he makes his way towards the small window at the side of the building above one of the messy desks.

  At the window he flattens himself against the wall and carefully eases the slats of the metal blind away from the frame a fraction so he can see, at an angle, out into the quarry yard.

  “What’s going on?” I can’t help asking.

  “God knows, there’s a car parked up but I can’t see who is driving it. It does look familiar though. I think the same vehicle was parked here earlier when we visited the offices. Must be somebody who works here.”

  He can remember information on all the cars which were parked up near the quarry offices earlier today?

  Of course he can.

  “What…” I begin.

  “Get back in the store cupboard now and shut the door,” Charlie says in a don’t-you-dare-argue-with-me tone.