I dial the number and someone answers straight away. “Agency administration, Lydia speaking. How can I help you?”
“Oh, hello,” I check my scribbled notes to remind myself what I need to ask. This is my first time talking to agency support and nerves flutter inside of me. “I’m calling about case three thousand and forty four.”
I can hear fingers tapping across a keyboard before Lydia replies. “Ah. Yes. I see. Please confirm who you are and the nature of your enquiry.”
“Trainee support officers Amber Reed and Esme Hughes. We are on final assignment for the CCIA, prior to being considered for roles with the agency. We are investigating the case of the kidnapped bride and would like to request details on a man called David Smith,” I answer, coming over all formal.
There’s silence on the other end of the line. She’s probably waiting for more details. There must be hundreds and thousands of men called David Smith. She’ll need more information to pin down the man we want background details on. “He lives in London, works for his family’s business, which we think is called Hammond and Astor.”
“That information has already been requested for your case,” Lydia replies instantly. “Special Agent Hargreaves has all of the details.”
Of course he does. The only problem is he’s unlikely to want to share that information with us. “Would it be possible for you to tell us the details as well, please?” I ask, anxiety flickering away inside of me. We can’t let Mitch shut us out of this investigation.
“Why would I need to do that?” Lydia replies, and I can hear the frown in her voice. “You are aware that you and trainee Hughes should be working as part of a team on this assignment with Special Agent Hargreaves?”
“Er, yes, but there’s been a bit of a breakdown in communications.”
“Then I suggest you address that breakdown immediately,” Lydia replies curtly. “Have a nice day.”
The line goes dead and I click my phone to end the call.
“What?” Esme asks eagerly. “What did they say?”
“They won’t give us the information because they’ve already given it to Mitch. I explained there was a communication glitch in that department and they said we need to address that matter.”
“Hell,” Esme mutters, flopping back against the pillows of my bed. “This is all some test within a test, isn’t it? They’re going to make me grovel to Hargreaves, apologise for my behaviour and play nice so he’ll co-operate with the investigation.”
I nod. “Looks that way.” I check the clock on my phone. “It’s well past nine o’clock. Shall we go and knock on the door of his room now or shall we just go through our own stuff on the case and wait until morning to tackle Mitch?”
“We don’t have time to wait until the morning. We’ve got a deadline. How about we venture into the hotel and see if we can find anyone else to interview first? If we can find out anything useful we might be able to trade info with Mitch. That will put us in a stronger position to get him to co-operate. What do you think?”
I scramble to my feet, grabbing my notepad and pen. “Sounds like a plan.”
The doors between the staff quarters and the posh hotel all have keypads for which we have not been given the codes. “We’ll have to go to the hotel’s front door,” Esme says. “Unless you know how to disable a keypad lock.”
I shake my head. “Sorry. Charlie would probably know how to do it but I don’t.”
“Well, as you sent lover boy packing and we can’t utilise his breaking and entering powers for the greater good, we’ll have to go outside and round to the front entrance.”
“We’re not allowed in the front entrance of the hotel though,” I say, remembering how James had shepherded us all round to the staff entrance when we’d arrived. “Though that was before we were appointed as the investigation team for this case. If we say we’re CCIA, then they’ll let us in, right?”
“Definitely.”
Time now: 21:45
Time to deadline: 20 hours and 15 minutes
The autumn evening air smells even more of damp leaves now. I shiver in the chilly breeze as I follow Esme around the side of the hotel. At the front entrance we try the door but, as suspected, it’s locked. Typical. I spot an intercom devise and press the button.
“Hello?” a disembodied voice echoes around the limestone floor of the entrance portico.
“Hello! Er, we’re part of the team sent to investigate the kidnapping and need to get into the hotel so we can interview a few people.”
“Somebody will greet you at the door,” the voice says.
Yay! We’re in!
“Ladies,” a man in a suit says as he opens the door.
I step forward but he holds a hand up to stop me. “I’ll need to see your identification before I can let you in.”
I exchange glances with Esme. “We don’t have any official identification.”
“We’re trainees,” Esme adds. “So we haven’t been issued with CCIA documentation yet.”
The man clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, in that case, I cannot let you into the hotel. Good evening.”
He steps back, closing the door in our bemused faces.
“Seriously?” Esme shrieks. “They’re not going to let us inside? How are we going to be able to investigate the case if we can’t get into the hotel? That’s crazy!”
“Mitch will have CCIA identification with him so they’ll let us in when we’re with him…”
“Which doesn’t help us now,” Esme says, finishing my sentence.
“Guess we’ll have to come up with a plan B then. Let’s see if there are any other doors we can try.”
We make our way around to the other side of the building, following the signs towards the car park. There must be a door from there into the hotel, surely?
Esme suddenly grabs my hand and drags me behind some bushes just off the path.
I stifle the urge to call out as I stumble and dive behind the damp shrubs. “What’s going on?”
“People in the car park,” Esme explains, pointing around the bush.
“OK, but why does that mean we have to hide in the garden?” I brush a bug from the knee of my jeans and it leaves a smudge of mud. Lovely.
“Check out what they’re doing,” she replies, gesturing towards a car parked under a tree.
In many hotel car parks you get a few dark and dodgy spots where the floodlights don’t quite reach, well, that’s clearly not the case at the Roseby. Which explains why the couple making out against the side of a flash BMW have parked under the tree – it’s the only thing affording them some degree of privacy.
I lean forward and squint into the shadows. “Who is that…?”
Esme shrugs. “No idea, but things are looking pretty hot and heavy over there.”
A female voice drifts towards us on the night air. “Stop it!”
“Do you think she needs help? Is she OK?” I frown, straining to listen.
“Don’t do that here!” the woman says before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “Let’s go to your room.”
The man grabs her hand and they stumble out from the shadows and into the security lights of the car park. I still don’t know who they are, but it does register that the man is wearing jeans and a leather jacket, whilst the woman is dressed in the hotel’s uniform.
“Hi there!” Esme says, walking towards them from her hiding place and startling the couple. “Nice night for it, isn’t it?” She inclines her head back towards the car park, making it obvious she saw what they were doing moments earlier.
The woman blushes and looks as though she wants to make a run for it.
“You work at the hotel?” Esme directs her question to the woman.
“Yes, and I’m late for my shift, so I really need to go,” she blusters, stepping away from us.
Placing a hand on her arm I say, “Isn’t it against the rules for staff to mingle with hotel guests in the way the two of you were just doing?�
� I have no idea if that is indeed the case, but I can well imagine the hotel imposing such rules in employee contracts.
“Perhaps you might be able to help us,” I add, holding her gaze and trying to project a don’t-mess-with-me air, just like I’ve practised so many times in training. “We need to get into the hotel.”
She blinks several times then, taking in our scruffy appearance, asks, “Are you guests?”
“No,” Esme says with a smirk. “But that doesn’t matter in the circumstances, does it?”
“I suppose I can let you in the staff entrance,” the woman replies nervously.
“No good,” Esme says with a shake of her head. “We need access to the main hotel.”
“Follow me,” the man interrupts, walking towards the side entrance of the hotel. “I’ll let you in.” He swipes a key card against a panel and we dip inside before the door closes behind him. “I’m going to my room. I trust nothing more will be said about any of this? I don’t want Tammy to end up in trouble with her employers.”
Esme taps him on the shoulder. “Your secret is safe with us.”
“Do you need anything else?” he asks grudgingly.
“Which way to the bar and lounge areas?” I check.
“Down that corridor,” he replies, before turning and disappearing in the opposite direction.
We make our way along the corridor, taking in the thick carpet, decadent gold scrolling on the hall’s cornices and the probably-worth-a-fortune paintings on the walls. Eventually, we find ourselves in the hotel’s bar. I look around. Logs roar and crackle in the grate of a very impressive stone fireplace. Red velvet and dark wood chairs and settees are arranged in small groups around the room, most of them empty. Only two tables in the bar are occupied. Sitting on a cluster of chairs by the huge bay window, which overlooks the floodlit grounds, I spot Taylor and Dorothea, along with the three bridesmaids.
Across the room, close to the fire, sit James and Charlie.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Charlie? What’s he still doing here? I thought he was heading off to his bed and breakfast for the night. But then he and James are friends. The two of them have worked several cases together for the agency over the years. James probably just invited Charlie to join him for a quick drink, rather than head back to his room alone at the local bed and breakfast.
It can’t be anything more than that, can it? My stomach clenches at the thought Charlie might be here to pull some strings. He knows how much I want to pass this last part of my training and be offered a job with the agency. He wants me to succeed and become a support officer too. He wouldn’t be tempted to fix things though, would he? Is he trying to ensure I pass and get a job offer? He probably could do that. He’s an experienced special agent and has been with the CCIA a good few years. He’s widely regarded as one of the best operatives they have. If he wanted to make sure his girlfriend got a job, well…
“Excuse me, ladies.”
A man in uniform walks towards us, having slipped out from behind the bar. He looks us up and down, taking in our jeans and boots. “Are you guests of the hotel?”
“No, but…” I start to reply.
“I’m sorry, the bar is for hotel guests only,” he recites parrot-fashion. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“They’re my guests.” We all turn to find Charlie standing next to us. “I’m in room number…” He shoots a questioning look back at James who lifts his right hand, showing two fingers, in reply. “Room number two,” Charlie finishes, having taken James’ gesture as an indication of his room number rather than a rude response.
“Oh, I didn’t realise, my apologies,” the barman says, looking between the three of us and clearly not believing a word Charlie says. What can he do about it though? Argue with him in the middle of the bar?
Charlie steps back and raises a hand towards the table he was sharing with James. “Please, come and join us. I’ll get us some drinks, what would you like?”
I’m pretty certain I should not be fraternising with my trainer and a CCIA agent in the hotel bar right now but I’m stuck. The barman is only letting us stay because Charlie has vouched for us.
I shoot a nervous glance towards James. What will the assessors think if they see us all drinking together? I know he said he had approval to be here but I still feel awkward about it. A part of me is annoyed Charlie is taking this risk, putting me in an awkward position. But then maybe he knows that it doesn’t matter what I do or say or who I fraternise in the bar with - because he’s fixed it for me to pass this test anyway. A flicker of irritation bubbles inside of me. If I get offered a job with the CCIA I want to know – no, need to know – I’ve done it on my own merits. Not because I’m dating a CCIA agent.
“Great, thanks!” Esme beams, accepting Charlie’s invitation and plonking herself down in a chair opposite James. “I’ll have a cider.”
Charlie raises an eyebrow at me. “Amber?”
My eyes dart from Charlie to James and then to Esme, chatting away at the table. It looks as though we’re sitting and drinking then. “Orange juice, please.”
Inclining his head towards the bar he says, “Want to give me a hand?”
On the way across the room Charlie reaches for my hand and tugs gently, leading me into an alcove with one table which is out of view of everyone in the bar.
“Charlie!” I hiss at him. “What are you doing? You’re going to get me into a load of trouble. I’m supposed to be working on this assignment!”
He shoots me a hurt look. “It’s fine, don’t worry. James isn’t going to drop you in it. He knows when to keep his mouth shut. I just wanted a few more minutes with you, on our own.”
My resolve to get back to the investigation wavers slightly as he entwines my fingers with his. “I miss you. It’s been so crazy these past few months with you training and me working all hours.”
I nod. Hmm. I need to be firm here but…Charlie is smiling at me in a way which makes me go all mushy. “I know, it has been a while since we had some proper alone time.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to ditch the case for a few hours and come back to my bed and breakfast?” he asks hopefully, sliding hands around my waist now.
“I…”
He leans in and plants the gentlest of kisses on my neck.
“Charlie…”
Another kiss, as he pulls me closer. My hands, acting of their own accord, find their way up into his short dark hair.
Oh boy… I need to stop this before my willpower goes completely.
“Charlie, much as I want to, I can’t…We have less than twenty-four hours to complete this assignment and if I fail, then…” I step away and let the sentence hang unfinished, but the meaning is clear. If I fail then I have to go home and try to find a regular job, whilst Charlie jets off around the world working for the CCIA.
He pulls back and sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. I’m not being fair at all, am I? You want to focus on this assignment right now. I understand.”
I squeeze his hands. “It’s not just a case of want to focus but also very much a case of need to focus. What if I can’t do this?” Doubt crashes in on me again. “What if I fail?”
“You’re not going to fail,” he reassures me. “You’ve got this, no problem. Right?”
Have I?
He strokes a thumb tantalising down my right cheek. “Right?” he repeats.
I nod. “Yes. I have. It will all come together and we’ll solve the case.” My eyes dart towards the clock on the wall above the bar. “Time is running out though.”
“Hey!” Charlie gently chastises. “Believe in yourself. Everything will be fine. You’ve got plenty of time to solve this case.”
“How quickly did you solve your final assignment case when you were training to be an agent?” I frown, wondering if I should have asked that question. He probably did it in about three hours or something, knowing him. Charlie is super competitive, stubborn and extremely de
termined when he wants to be.
“Not sure,” he replies, feigning forgetfulness. “I can’t remember.”
“Hey! This is not cool!” Our precious bit of alone time is disrupted my James joining us in our little hideaway corner of the bar.
I leap away from Charlie as panic surges through me. “Am I about to be thrown off the assignment?” I ask James nervously, clenching and unclenching my fists.
He shakes his head at me before turning to glare at Charlie. “You’re not the one in trouble here, Amber - he is!”
Charlie holds both hands up as if to say, ‘what did I do?’
“Come on, I just wanted to talk to Amber,” he cajoles. “No harm done.”
James takes a step closer and lowers his voice. “I can’t sit in the bar with Amber and Esme. They’re on assignment and I’m in charge of overseeing this whole case. I need to get out of here.”
“OK. If you must, but I’m not working tonight, so I can stay and chat,” Charlie says, standing firm, arms crossed.
James looks from me to Charlie. “What if Amber doesn’t want you to stay and chat, huh? She needs to concentrate on solving this case. The deadline is going to be here before they know it.”
“Amber, do you want me to go?” Charlie asks, pinning me with his most seductive smile.
My inner good girl is battling with my rebellious side. I sigh. “I don’t want you to go but James is right, in the circumstances, I think you probably should go.”
“OK.” He shrugs. “If that’s what you think.”
“Is there a problem?” the barman asks, suddenly materialising beside us.
“No, no problem,” I reply awkwardly.
“We were just leaving,” James says, grabbing Charlie by the arm. “But the ladies will be staying.” He looks pointedly at the barman. “I trust that will be OK?”
The barman, whose nametag I notice says Michael, nods. “Of course, sir.”
“I’ll ring you tomorrow,” Charlie says, kissing me on the cheek before he reluctantly follows James out of the bar.
Amber Reed Mysteries Volume One: Romantic Comedy Mystery Series Box Set (Amber Reed Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency Mystery Box Set Book 1) Page 24