Amber Affairs

by Patricia Rice

  A familiar blue Prius was waiting for them outside her cottage door when they returned with arms full of shopping bags.

  Josh knew he was being presumptuous by intruding on Amber’s life. At this point, he was too desperate to care. He’d just spent hours in the sheriff’s office in Baskerville being grilled on everything from Willa’s finances to their sex life. He’d uploaded his camera shots from the day of Willa’s death into their computers and felt like slime. And then they’d told him to lawyer up.

  He needed Ginger’s cheerful brand of defiant optimism. Whether she realized it or not, Amber’s true character had crept into the script over the years.

  Carrying in her grocery bags, Josh shoved packages in cabinets and refrigerator as directed and let her disapproval wash right over him.

  “I’m used to a sounding board, okay? You spoiled me like that. I’m working too many tricky things to go in without thinking them through.” He began rearranging her pantry to fit in the extra boxes.

  “And you’re missing Willa,” she said. “I get that, I really do. But Carmel is already spreading nasty rumors about us, and neither of us needs that kind of aggravation.”

  “I am not missing Willa.” He slammed a box into a cabinet. “Willa never listened to me. I was a means to an end for her. I knew that. It’s okay. I usually have assistants who can help me on the set, but this is real life, not a set. I’ve called my lawyer about Dell and called Willa’s accountants about the film project and the audit. Ernest is working through the parking lot video and the shots Brad sent from the last day and nothing is helping. I swung this even though the cops are all over me. I have too damned many balls in the air. And if this project fails, I’m dead in the water. I need help. Come have dinner with me.”

  “I don’t see how I can help. I have no money, no contacts, and I can barely take care of myself. What do you want me to do?” She sounded almost sad.

  “You don’t need to do anything except listen or pull out your tarot or Ouija board, if you like. You were always able to help me straighten my head. Zeke will be fine. He can play video games in my bedroom while we talk. Ernest will be in his room and available if Zeke needs anything. We’ll do dinner, talk, then swim, and I’ll be ready to face tomorrow.”

  Amber had sent the kid to play games in his room. Josh figured Zeke was listening to every word. That’s what kids did. So he tried not to beg too obviously.

  “After what Carmel said in the café today, everyone will know where I’m going if I take the cart up to the lodge. Can’t we just talk on the phone?” She finished off her nasty green drink and dropped the plastic cup in the trash.

  “That was going to be your dinner, wasn’t it?” he said, growing angrier. “You’re still starving yourself, for what? You don’t need anyone’s approval anymore.”

  “I need my own,” she shouted back at him.

  “Finally, I’m getting to you,” he said in satisfaction. “You don’t have to play Miss Sunshine for me. I appreciate it when you stop people in their tracks with that breathtaking smile, but I don’t appreciate it when you fake it with me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ve only ever stopped people in their tracks with my bulk. I need to stay healthy for Zeke. I don’t starve myself. I eat the way I should, in the right amounts and with the proper nutrients. The food at the lodge is too packed with fat and carbs and things I don’t need. So sue me for preferring an organic health food bar.”

  Josh crushed his hair with both hands to keep his head from flying off. “Fine. I’ll have rabbit food sent up here. Or to my place, where Zeke has a little more room.”

  “I’m old enough to stay here alone,” Zeke shouted through the thin walls. “I rode the bus all by myself!”

  Amber stomped down the hall to the kid’s room. Josh followed and watched her hug her nephew the way she used to hug him when he was that age. Until they’d developed hormones, she’d taken the place of the annoying little sister he’d never had. He hadn’t appreciated hugs then.

  Zeke didn’t particularly either, but he submitted graciously.

  “I know you can take of yourself,” she told the kid. “But right now, I’m a nervous mother. Humor me.”

  “Nervous?” Josh pounced. “What do you have to be nervous about?”

  “Crystal finally got around to filing a police report this afternoon. My lawyer called her and the cops. She reported that Zeke is fine with me and that she was filing a custodial suit based on child abuse and neglect. She’s also filing a protective order to keep Crystal away. I’m waiting for the sky to fall. So, no, I’m not leaving Zeke alone.”

  She looked ready to jump out of her skin. Josh smacked his temple to rearrange his thinking. “I’ve been making this all about me, sorry. This is why it’s not good to leave me cooped up by myself. I need someone to whack me occasionally.”

  “You’re Aries,” she said with a shrug. “I know you’re just throwing your weight around in frustration. I get that. And I know I can argue both sides of any argument you throw at me, which is why you need me as sounding board. I just don’t see any way to make that work right now.”

  “Neutral ground,” he suggested. “Neutral ground with wi-fi. I can leave my car at the lodge and no one will know I’m not in my suite. You can walk around with Zeke, and they’ll think you’re showing him the town. If there’s neutral ground out of sight of the public where we can meet, bring along your friends, if you like. Order whatever food makes you happy, I’ll cover it. Just let me have you as my friend for a while.”

  Her ocean-blue eyes moistened, and Josh thought he probably needed to kick himself again. He just didn’t know why.

  “The gallery,” she said with a sigh. “It’s a fairly public place, but it’s locked up at night. Val and Harvey have keys and practice there. I’ll call around and see who can let us in. I don’t know how you’ll keep from being seen though. I don’t think your delivery driver uniform will work at this hour and with no truck.”

  “I’ll handle it,” he said with confidence and utterly no idea how. “Let me remove my tell-tale car from your drive. I’ll meet you at the gallery at six. Come hungry.”

  Josh pecked her cheek, felt her flinch, and wanted to crush something—preferably Dell’s windpipe. He had known Amber would never have deserted him without a very good reason. That flinch told him he needed to learn that reason.

  Ernest met him at the lodge with still another list of to-dos. “If you want to stay on top of this project, you have to start taking calls,” he insisted, waving notes in Josh’s face. “I can only play phone tag for so long. Tessa is driving me insane with questions. Tell me I can fire her.”

  Josh had parked behind the lodge, where he’d had a light bulb moment while watching kitchen staff unloading a bread truck. Ignoring the paper waving, he walked past Ernest, stripping off his shirt and reaching for his cell—before realizing the phone wouldn’t do him any good.

  “No, neither of us can fire the vice-president of Willa’s company. Ivan probably will when he takes it back. But in the meantime, we’re establishing our own company. Pretend you’re me,” he told his assistant in frustration. “Call everyone back, say you’re Josh Gabriel, and we’re starting our own damned production company. You know how it’s done. I’m lousy at numbers and schmoozing. I’ll talk to my script people and the cast, if needed. But right now, I have a different production in mind.”

  “Me?” Ernest squeaked. “You want me to be you?”

  Ernest blessedly hushed while Josh called the lodge manager and made his request. He realized his assistant had been mulling over his command after he hung up.

  Before Josh could ring up the kitchen, Ernest shook his head and held up his hand. “If you want me to line up sponsors for your production, I’ll have to go after a different list than Willa’s. And now that I think of it, that’s the reason we’re not getting much response.”

  Focused on Amber, Josh didn’t respond but called the kitchen and ordered the menu
he wanted delivered to the gallery. But in the back of his brain, he considered Ernest’s usually correct assumptions—Willa’s sponsors weren’t calling back, why?

  Once he hung up, he eyed the usually fainthearted Ernest wearing a defiant expression. “Do I want to know why?” he asked warily.

  “You know why,” Ernest declared. “Don’t make me spell it out for you. Just think about the list of dirty old men Willa called sponsors and tell me how you want me to proceed.”

  Josh rubbed his forehead and tried to remember the money-grubbing details. He’d met all the men who wrote the checks. It didn’t take an idiot to grasp the dirty old man crack. “Shit. The morons thought her flirting meant she’d follow through with sexual favors, didn’t they? We need breasts instead of balls.”

  He crossed back to the front room to answer the door. A maid handed him a black jacket and tie with the lodge’s logo on them. Josh handed her a five, and she nearly dipped him a curtsy.

  “Sex greases the wheels,” Ernest said, following him around. “Willa knew that. She learned it at the knees of the best.”

  “Ivan is a prick.” Josh yanked a wrinkled white shirt out of his suitcase.

  “A prick who oozes charm at bored wives who know how to twist their husband’s arms. You could do what Ivan does. I can’t tap into that scenario. So if you’re refusing to schmooze the wives of Willa’s sponsors, you may want to find someone besides me. Maybe you should hire Tessa.” Ernest propped his fist on a cocked hip, demonstrating his ineffectiveness at seducing bored wealthy wives.

  Buttoning his shirt, Josh didn’t really have to think about what Ernest was telling him. He’d been in the business long enough to grasp the ramifications. “Ivan and Willa used sex. That’s their shtick, not ours,” he said bluntly. “There are plenty of decent people out there. You can call on anyone you like, but this is a kid’s film. It’s an investment that will make strong returns in money and goodwill. We want sponsors who want to be associated with a kiddie film, not lecherous old men.”

  Ernest clicked the pen he held in his fist, thought about it, and nodded. “Not easy, but if you mean this, I’m on it. Benefit there is that the clean types don’t know you from Adam, so I can be you and me without a problem. What the hell are you wearing?”

  “I’m a waiter, what do you think?” Josh held out his arms. The jacket was made for a smaller man, but waiters didn’t usually have tailors. “And be yourself instead of me unless necessary. You are now the official head of Josh Gabriel Productions. To hell with Ivan.”

  Ernest’s eyes widened. He mock staggered, holding a hand to his heart. Then he straightened and pointed his pen at Josh. “Ivan has money. You don’t. This should be right entertaining.” He spun around and marched out, a man on a mission.

  Even Josh knew he was spinning castles in the air, but he didn’t care. Willa might have been a sophisticated slut, but she’d been a brilliant, hard-working woman, and good to him, in her own way. He wouldn’t let her death go unavenged. Someone was going down for her murder. It wouldn’t be him.

  Thirteen

  Amber’s request to borrow the gallery key had inevitably led to half a dozen Lucys showing up out of curiosity and support. Fortunately, Josh arrived with the lodge’s catering staff and enough food for an army. He’d always been prepared for any event, once he’d worked out what he wanted and how he wanted to do it. Which is what she supposed she was there for—helping him plan a war on a killer.

  She just didn’t see how she could brainstorm justice, so she prepared herself for an evening of watching parking-lot video.

  Mariah had wired the gallery for cable and wi-fi and probably a satellite or two. After Amber pointed out the hidden computer screen, Josh removed the painting concealing it and started setting up his laptop.

  Zeke grabbed a plateful of food and wandered around the gallery, studying the artwork while his hands were full. She figured he’d return to his video game once he’d filled his perpetually empty stomach. She just needed to keep him in sight for a while until her nerves settled.

  Val and Harvey quit practicing and came over to investigate the table of food. They lingered to watch the video Josh had loaded. With their men still out of town, Fee and Teddy arrived, grabbed plates, and settled down to watch cars come and go on the screen.

  Josh halted the video to point out highlights. “Ernest edited this, so you’re not seeing it all, just the people we know, basically. There’s where Willa and I came down from the lodge in my Prius. The time stamp says before noon.”

  Amber handed him a sandwich so he could eat while playing with the keyboard. She studied the image of Willa looking as if she’d walked off a page in a fashion magazine. She was snapping pictures of the town, even as Josh held the door open for her. They didn’t look like a couple who had just spent the morning in bed.

  “The wedding planner was already there when we arrived. I don’t know which car is hers. That’s Brad Jones, the photographer, pulling up in his van a little later. Willa’s personal assistants, Sarah and Ernest, traveled together and were already there talking with the planner. That’s Sarah’s Chevy. There’s Tessa English, Willa’s VP of productions, pulling up in the pink Mazda shortly after Brad arrives. She parks it on the far side of the van, so it’s not very visible from this perspective. Willa left her Mercedes at the lodge, otherwise, that’s all our vehicles.”

  “Hold it there so we can study the people,” Teddy ordered. “I recognize Willa, of course. We had a long discussion on trending jewelry fashion. I don’t think I met the others.”

  “Fee?” Amber asked. “Did any of them come in the café? Did you have any sense of. . . I don’t know, whatever it is you sense?”

  “The assistants and planner stopped for coffee that morning.” With her usual self-deprecation, the little cook gestured at the screen. “They did not strike me as offensive. I do not recognize the one with red hair, Tessa? The photographer was there the other day when you came in, remember? I told you he smelled sort of off. . . as if he might have secrets? It’s a burnt toast sort of thing. I can’t explain.”

  “Good assumption,” Josh decided. “Brad is a contract employee who works for a lot of other people, including Willa’s father. I daresay he has lots of secrets. He stays employed because he keeps them.”

  Amber assumed one of the Lucys texted Samantha, because the environmental scientist showed up with her police chief husband, Walker before Josh was halfway through the video.

  They helped themselves to brownies from the table and settled in to watch.

  “After Willa gives her orders, we all go our separate ways, but we’re on foot. The camera only catches the parking lot and the road coming into town. At some point, Willa had to return to the lodge to pack her bags, but it’s not showing on here. Has anyone found her bags or the car yet?” Josh turned to the police chief.

  “Nothing. No phone either. They hid those better than her body, so we’re guessing they panicked at first, then had more time to think about car disposal.” Walker settled into a chair and finished his brownie.

  Amber caught Josh wincing at this callous description. When he glanced at her for support, she gestured from her diaphragm in the “deep breath” gesture they’d perfected all those years ago. He may not have loved Willa, but she’d meant a lot to him.

  He sucked in air and returned to the video. “After three, I was in the room and would have seen her. I didn’t drive her up to the lodge. My car stays in the lot until three. Willa might hike to the lodge, but she would most definitely not haul suitcases anywhere.”

  “And the van, the Mazda, and the Chevy stay in the lot,” Walker said, after licking chocolate off his fingers. “Willa does not climb into any vehicle there. So what vehicle came into town and picked her up somewhere other than the parking lot?”

  “Exactly.” Josh ran the video backward to the point where they all parted ways. “All the vehicles in the lot at one o’clock stay there until three.”

  Amb
er studied the image of Josh in director mode as he talked to the crew in the parking lot. He gave his instructions with authority and confidence and still managed to keep that youthful ranginess and roguish smile. “After you went to the vortex with Willa, you left her there taking pictures while you returned to town?”

  “Yes, and if she meant to practice walking that hillside, that would have been the time I’d say she did it. I had just asked her how she meant to navigate that aisle in heels.” Josh bit angrily into his sandwich and began a slow-motion forward. “Here, anyone recognize that car entering town? It doesn’t stop in the lot.”

  “We need Monty,” Fee said. “He can identify every car on the road. It just looks like a black sedan to me.”

  “Porsche Panamera,” Walker said. “Not the sporty one.”

  Amber sensed Josh’s shock but not the reason for it. From the bench beside him, she patted his arm. There was muscle under that ridiculous waiter’s jacket. “Deep breath,” she reminded him again. His temper often got the better of him unless he took time before speaking.

  He nodded and inhaled and exhaled before responding. “Willa’s father owns one of those. So does a producer I know.” He abruptly squeezed her shoulder, almost as if steadying himself.

  That gesture was all it took for her to recognize who that producer might be. She stared at the car on the screen in shock. No wonder Josh was giving off bad vibrations. She covered his hard hand with hers and squeezed back.

  “It’s a fairly popular model,” the police chief said, studying the image of the car going past the parking lot and continuing to the right, out of camera range. “Why is it headed to the cemetery?”

  “Willa was still up there. That would have been shortly after I walked back to town and everyone else is scattered, doing their jobs.” Josh continued forwarding the film with the hand not holding Amber’s shoulder.