“Back to my place I think,” he says. “The guest house has just what we both need right now.”
“Right, of course, a fire,” I say as we speed towards Ennis’ place.
“No,” he replies, doing another one of those super quick gear changes. “A hot tub.”
“There’s a hot tub at the guest house? How come I didn’t see that the times I stayed in the spare room?”
“It’s out the back in an enclosed courtyard area.”
I try to stop my teeth chattering as we make the ten minute journey back to the house.
It probably looks as though we’re attempting to play a game of Twister as we move around each other, hopping from one leg to another as we pull off wet boots and dispose of coats in the hallway of the guest house so we don’t drip too much on the expensive flooring.
“I’ll go and get us some towels,” I say, having learnt where the linen cupboard was on my sleepovers.
“You OK up there?” Charlie’s voice drifts up the steep stairs to where I’m standing, trying to decide what to do. I’ve just realised, as appealing at the hot tub sounds right now, I am minus a swimsuit.
“Yes, fine,” I shout back then make my way downstairs.
“Come on.” He reaches for my hand and leads me through the kitchen towards the back door and into a utility room. He’s been reaching for my hand a lot these past few days and, despite the often dire circumstances, I like it.
“There’s a clothes dryer hidden in that cupboard just behind you,” he gestures.
I stand, still unsure what to do.
“What’s wrong?” he asks as he starts stripping off. First the jumper, then the t-shirt and now his hands are heading towards the zip on his black jeans.
“I don’t have anything to, er, put on,” I say, feeling my cheeks flush red.
He stops undressing. “That’s OK. Clothing is optional in this hot tub.”
“Oh, but…”
He steps forward and rests a hand on my arm. “Amber, you are going to freeze to death if you don’t get those clothes off now. Why don’t you go outside, get undressed, leave your clothes on the floor and hop straight into the water? It’s a deep tub, you’ll be fine. I’ll stay in here till you shout it’s OK, then come out and fetch your clothes and chuck them in the dryer. How does that sound?”
It sounds perfectly reasonable.
Unfortunately.
“OK.”
Outside I do a strip in record time, fling my stuff on the floor and sink with a huge sigh of relief into the bubbling and steaming hot tub.
“OK,” I shout to Charlie sliding further under the water because it’s blissfully warm. And also because I want to hide my practical but less than sexy underwear beneath the bubbling waters of the tub as quickly as possible. Well, who goes on a secret mission to a quarry in the middle of the night wearing their finest lingerie? A balcony bra and hipster briefs in delicate silk aren’t exactly practical for the kind of night I’ve had.
When I leapt off the edge of that quarry – my heart starts to pound again at the memory – I was glad I was wearing a practical and comfortable black sports bra and what my mother would call ‘sensible’ black briefs. Now, in the hot tub, they could pass for a bikini-of-sorts. Just. I couldn’t strip everything off. I chickened out.
The door from the cottage opens and Charlie appears, a towel wrapped around his waist. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. Tall, lean but with those strong arms and shoulders. Not a hair on his muscular, battle-scarred chest. Injuries from what I wonder? From his time in special ops in the Army? From his work with the CCIA?
He picks up my discarded clothes and takes them inside the cottage, presumably to bundle them in the dryer.
“Is this seat taken?” he asks a few moments later as he reappears, fixing me with a cheeky smile and gesturing towards the opposite end of the tub.
“Nope, help yourself.”
He reaches for the edge of his towel. “I decided to just dump everything in the dryer. Easier that way. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, but…” I hastily avert my eyes, inspecting the evergreen climber which curls its way up the fence next to the hot tub to avoid seeing something I shouldn’t. Well, maybe I should.
I could probably just sneak a little look but then…
I feel his hand on my own, resting on the edge of the tub, but I daren’t turn round.
“It’s OK. You can look. I’m decent.”
Gingerly I turn to face him and try not to let my eyes drop down, you know where, into the water. Just in case.
“Mmm. This was a good idea,” he says as he sinks deeper into the water and rests his head back against the brick wall behind him, eyes closed.
I know that old adage about telling somebody not to do, say or look at something invariably makes the forbidden far too enticing and the person ends up with a compulsion to do, say or look anyway. That’s my defence I decide as I stop fighting it and let my eyes drift down into the water. I don’t know whether to be disappointed or pleased that he was telling the truth. A pair of black boxer briefs are clearly visible through the swirling water. I let my eyes linger a fraction too long.
“Told you I was decent.”
Sugar.
I’ve been caught ogling him. I slowly lift my gaze to see Charlie, eyes now open, with a sexy grin on his face.
“I wasn’t… I mean…” I cough and try to look in control. “I just wanted to make sure. That was all.”
He nods. “Only natural.”
I close my eyes and sink lower in the water, enjoying the warmth starting to seep deep into my bones. I think I might finally have stopped shaking.
“Look, about what you went through tonight. It was entirely my fault. I should never have let you talk me into it. Again. Are you sure you won’t be mentally scarred for life after throwing yourself off a quarry ledge?”
“I’m fine,” I say. “It was bloody terrifying but I’m OK now. The closest I’ve ever come to doing something like that was on an outward bound adventure holiday with the school when I was about twelve. I had to do one of those zip wire things. I was terrified but didn’t want to admit it to my friends at the time. If this kind of stuff is a regular part of your job then you must be some kind of adrenaline junkie.”
He shrugs. “I can be. I admit I like having a job which has a certain degree of excitement to it. For me, it’s kind of necessary.”
I open my eyes. That’s a strange thing to say. “Throwing yourself off things and getting chased by a pack of dogs is necessary for you?”
“Kind of. It gives me a buzz. I need that.”
A flicker of concern shoots through my mind. He seeks danger. He thrives on it. I’ve read about people like him. People who need a regular high. They can get it from drugs, drink or from risking their lives.
Silence hangs in the misty air above the hot tub. Time for a change of subject.
“What was in the boxes, Charlie? Did you get into the cave? Did you see?”
He stares at me for a moment, clearly contemplating how to answer. “It’s best if you don’t know. You’re involved too much as it is.”
No way is he going to shut me out of this now. “You can’t do that. I’ve come this far. I have to know. You promised. If you don’t tell me I’ll find out myself by…”
He holds up a hand to stop my tirade and pretends to cower into the water as if trying to hide from my verbal assault. Then he smiles. That bloody smile. It will be the undoing of me, I feel sure of it.
“OK. OK.” He sighs. “I honestly don’t know how you do it. Persuade me to let you go to the quarry; get caught up in all this. Have you put some kind of spell on me?”
I laugh nervously. “Of course. That would be the curse of the local standing stones. Have you not heard? They’re said to have magical powers you know? I’ve discovered how to harness that power to get people to comply with my every wish, reveal all their deep, dark secrets to me.”
He
mutters under his breath words which I don’t hear fully but I think it sounds suspiciously like something about him being delighted to comply with my every wish. I feel colour rising in my cheeks again.
No. Get back to business. Think of those boxes and what’s going on at the quarry and how Joel might have been involved.
“Charlie?” I prompt.
“Drugs,” he finally says with obvious contempt in his voice. “The boxes were full of drugs.”
“There were a lot of boxes so I’m thinking that’s a lot of drugs which are worth a lot of money.”
“Yep. A huge amount. Seems Ryan and Mitch are part of some drug-smuggling operation. Don’t know where they got the drugs from but the guys from the police are already on the case. I let them know when you were upstairs getting the towels. I didn’t get chance to phone them for back-up before when I went to see what was in the boxes. The heavy mob turned up and I had to get out of there and make sure you were OK. The police will check their contacts; see if they can piece the bits of the jigsaw together on that side of things.”
“Those guys are going to go ballistic when they find out that their hiding place has been discovered. They know someone was around, when they chased us, but do they know you found the drug cave at the quarry? Will there be some kind of raid?”
“Yes. We’ll continue surveillance on them and then hopefully the guys will be able to catch them red-handed and have all the evidence they need to charge them. I’d have thought they’d try to move the stuff very soon just in case.”
He closes his eyes and rests his head back again. “They deserve everything they get. The people who peddle drugs, feed people’s addictions, are the scum of the earth. They ruin people’s lives. Have numerous deaths on their hands because of what they do. All for money. For greed.”
“But we still don’t know what was going on with Ryan, Mitch and Joel. Do you think Joel knew they were smuggling this stuff and was trying to buy drugs from them or something?”
“From what I’ve heard about Joel, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was trying to blackmail them too. He was known for doing drugs anyway. Maybe one of his regular Manchester contacts told him he could get stuff out here and put him in touch with Ryan.”
Pieces were falling into place. “So Joel was up at the quarry the night he died trying to find the secret drug stash then?” I say.
“Could well be. We still need to know what happened up there though. Forensics said he wasn’t high at the time. There were no drugs or alcohol in his system.”
“And what’s going on with those explosions we’ve been hearing and that earth tremor we felt that night we were watching the smuggling operation take place in the quarry?” I say, feeling the tension in my body finally start to ease as the hot bubbling water works its own brand of magic. “Do you think the guys are doing some blasting on the side to make more storage space in the quarry caves they’re creating to stash more drugs?” I look down, watching my hands swirl in the water. “By the way I’m sorry I went all girly on you and panicked up on that quarry ledge.”
He lifts his head and then allows his body to dip lower into the tub. I feel one of his feet touch mine and it sends a tingle of something exciting all the way through me.
“Girly? I didn’t take you for being sexist. Why does panicking have to be girly? If it is, then I’ve been girly more than a couple of times in my life too!”
“You have?” I’m surprised by his admission.
“Definitely.”
“I thought you were the brave CCIA guy. On a mission to right the wrongs of this world.”
His voice is low, subdued almost, when he replies. “Everyone is scared of something.”
“Even you?”
He nods but doesn’t speak.
“Your clothes aren’t quite dry yet.”
I’m still submerged in the Jacuzzi, finally feeling relaxed.
I wonder if my clothes really aren’t dry or if this is some kind of ploy to keep me in just my underwear. I purposefully didn’t bring any new clothes from my flat to the guest house the other day because I was determined I was moving back home. And staying put.
“I’ll go and find you something of mine to wear,” he says before heading back into the kitchen.
By the time I’m out of the hot tub and wrapped in a huge bath towel he’s downstairs again. “I’ve put some tracksuit bottoms and a sweatshirt on the bed in the spare room along with some shorts and socks. All clean I promise you. They’ll be way too big for you but you can pull the cord on the trousers as tight as you can get it and they should just about stay up.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll let you go and get dried off. Come through to the kitchen when you’re dressed. I’ll make us something to eat. Pasta OK?”
“Pasta sounds great, thanks.”
“Feeling OK now?”
I look up from staring into the dancing flames of the fire. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“Not every day you get chased through woods by guys with dogs and end up jumping into flooded quarry holes,” he says, gently nudging my leg. “Or is it?”
I laugh. “Of course not!”
He leans closer. “Sure you’re OK?”
“Yes, absolutely.” My mind has been elsewhere. Turning over a thought which insists on popping into my head even though I’m tired and just want to switch off. A thought about Charlie and that kiss back at the quarry.
“Come on, spill. Tell me what you’re thinking.” He drains his coffee and puts the empty mug on the floor next to the sofa. “I can see you’re miles away.”
I turn to face him. “OK. Can I ask you something?”
“Ah, I see. Have you been silently psychoanalysing me tonight? Figuring out all my secrets eh?”
I push myself upright on the sofa. “So you admit you do have some secrets then?”
He turns away and then gets to his feet. “I think the fire needs another log.”
I let him do his man-tending-to-fire bit and wait for him to sit down beside me again.
“That time we were following Candi,” I begin, forcing myself to say the words. If I can jump off a quarry ledge into a black pool of water I can ask him this question. “And we ended up making out against the wall. Well, I know it was only for cover purposes then but tonight, well, you kissed me, properly this time, up at the quarry.”
“Guilty as charged.” He holds both hands up in a gesture of surrender.
“Why?”
He raises a quizzical eyebrow. “Seriously? Why did I kiss you? I thought that would have been obvious.”
I don’t say anything for a few moments and he touches a hand to my knee. “Hey? What’s wrong? Did I overstep some line? Did I make a mistake? I thought you…”
“You didn’t make a mistake.”
“Good. I’m pleased to hear it.” He edges a little closer on the sofa. “In that case…”
I feel myself easing back into the soft cushions of the sofa as his lips brush against mine and his hand traces tantalisingly slowly down my cheek.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
“Do you think Liam will be OK?” I ask.
It’s the next morning and we’re at the local police station. After Charlie had contacted the police about the smuggling operation they’d set up surveillance at the quarry. Ryan had gone back to check on things along with some guy who was looking to buy some ‘stock’ and they had been caught with the evidence and arrested.
He’d confessed to setting up the smuggling operation as a favour to a mate who had ‘lost’ his usual storage place. He’d said he’d done it because the quarry had serious financial problems since he and Liam had taken on running the business.
He’d also said Liam was in no way involved in the smuggling operation and had gone on to explain how he was worried about his brother and his increasingly erratic behaviour. Upon further questioning he’d said he’d found Liam a couple of times doing stuff as though he was in a trance and knew absolutely nothing about it.
Right now Liam is sitting in the interview room at the police station looking angry and frustrated.
“I’ll go through. You can stay here and listen in if you want to?” Charlie says. “I’ve cleared it with the guy in charge of the police station.”
I nod.
Charlie opens the door and heads into the room where Liam is sitting along with one of the local policemen.
“Liam, your brother is worried about you,” I hear Charlie saying. “He thinks you might not be well.”
Liam bashes a fist on the table and I jump a foot, but neither Charlie nor the police officer so much as flinch.
“I’m fine,” Liam shouts.
“He says he’s found you doing stuff you don’t know you’re doing,” Charlie continues. “As though you’re sleep-walking or in a trance. If that’s true and you’ve been doing these things up at the quarry then you know that’s dangerous right? To you and to other people.”
Liam says nothing, glaring at the wall above Charlie’s head.
“You’ve been under a lot of stress lately haven’t you? With the death of your father recently. Your brother told us the quarry is in financial difficulties. You’ve both been struggling to keep the business going. He says you’ve lost some contracts to supply stone to places. People have said they no longer want to work with Set In Stone, now that your dad isn’t running the quarry.”
Still Liam says nothing.
“You know about all this right? You understand what I’m saying?”
Still nothing.
I clench my fists. Poor Liam. He’s always been volatile but we should have spotted his behaviour and his moods had become even more erratic in recent months.
Charlie presses on. “I’m going to get someone to come in here and ask you some more questions, Liam,” he says, his voice calm. “Her name is Mary. She’s a psychologist. She wants to try to help you sort some stuff out. Things are going on in your head. Things you feel you can’t control. OK?”
Nothing.
Charlie gets to his feet, nods to the local policeman and leaves the room, walking back to the room where I am.
Amber Reed Mysteries Volume One: Romantic Comedy Mystery Series Box Set (Amber Reed Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency Mystery Box Set Book 1) Page 16