Amber Affairs

by Patricia Rice

  “We should ask Cass,” Samantha suggested. “She’s the only person who lives off that dead end. I know she can’t see the road, but she might have seen something.”

  “Or the car might have been one of Cass’s visitors or someone who wanted to see the cemetery,” Teddy suggested optimistically. “Cass knows a lot of people in the city who drive fancy cars.”

  Amber’s mind whirled at the possibilities. She released Josh’s hand, allowing him to better manipulate his keyboard.

  “We need to situate a camera better able to read license plates,” Walker decided, getting up for another brownie, not even noticing Amber’s distress.

  Fee did. She slipped from her seat, filled a glass with wine, and handed it to her. Amber nodded but her hand shook.

  “Invasion of privacy,” Josh countered. “But yeah, that would have been handy. The camera only catches that one piece of the main highway, so we don’t see the car returning. When we do see it again a few hours later, it’s leaving town on that same stretch. Given the way the road bends there, it’s not easy to tell what direction it’s coming from. It could as easily be the lodge as the cemetery.”

  Amber sipped her wine and anxiously wondered if it was possible to track the names of everyone owning a Porsche.

  “I’ll check with the sheriff, see if he’s reached Willa’s father yet. Have you given the name of the producer to anyone?” Walker asked, walking up to the screen to study the car image. “Is there any reason to think he’d be involved?”

  “Yes. It’s not a subject to be discussed in public. I’ll explain later. I just want to work this day through my head, get a clear vision of what could have happened and when. Ernest has included the video of every car coming into town after noon. I don’t recognize any others. The flashy Porsche stands out, but the other cars all look alike.” He clicked through a parade of vehicles. “Cars entering the lot from the lodge aren’t as visible. The camera is angled toward the road entering town.”

  He stopped to show the brief glimpse of his Prius leaving the parking lot just before three. The camera did not cover the highway to the lodge. Then he clicked forward to the crew and Willa gathering between the Chevy and the van after three.

  “Ernest claims Willa told him and Sarah to go back to LA to talk to her father at this point, so she must have been somewhere to receive messages—or the Porsche driver told her something. Ernest and Sarah drive off together. The wedding planner and Tessa walk away, presumably tidying up details. Brad stays behind to talk with Willa.” Josh moved the video forward a few frames at a time. “After Sarah’s Chevy leaves, Brad walks over to the café, and Willa heads down the boardwalk with her camera.”

  “She wouldn’t have sent Ernest and Sarah back to LA to help her father if Ivan was in the Porsche, would she?” Amber finally asked.

  “It could be the governor’s Porsche for all we know,” Teddy said dismissively. “With no license plate, we have nothing.”

  “Except timing,” Josh said with what sounded like finality. “Willa called me at three-thirty from the antique store to say she was going back to LA.” He fast-forwarded. “There’s the Porsche leaving town.”

  The time stamp showed ten after four.

  “If she left with this person, he had to have been waiting on the street,” Walker concluded. “The camera doesn’t reach that end of town. The pink car and the van are still in the lot.”

  “What about Willa’s car?” Amber asked. “It’s not at the hotel now. Where does it go? And her suitcases?”

  Evidently having run this video numerous times, Josh reversed it. “This is all I have, and I’m not sure what to make of it. Willa’s car is a sporty red Mercedes. Right before everyone gathers in the parking lot around three, there’s a glimpse of a small red car parking in front of Brad’s van. We can’t tell what direction it comes from with the camera angle. It slips in and parks between SUVs, so the camera doesn’t catch a good image. I don’t see anyone who might be the driver crossing the lot. That flash of red pulls out again at four-fifteen. But the van blocks our view of who’s driving, and the camera isn’t good enough to show the drivers as cars enter the road.”

  Amber felt a lead lump form in her stomach. “So the Porsche driver could have picked her up at the vortex when it arrived at one, driven her back to the lodge for her car and suitcases. Maybe they hung out at the bar for a while. The driver stays until four, but Willa drives back into town at three, parks between SUVs, and avoids being caught by the camera getting out of her car. She meets with her crew, wanders around town, then calls you at three-thirty? Why would she linger if she planned on leaving with the Porsche driver?”

  “That’s where all of you come in,” Josh said wearily. “I’ve run out of theories.”

  “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” Amber murmured from her pool chair while they watched Zeke still splashing around.

  Josh was pretty certain she wasn’t talking about her new swimsuit but their earlier discussion. They’d found no working theories, his brain was tired, and he was into denial. “You were most definitely cut out for that suit. It was made for you.”

  She rightfully cast him a nasty glance, but she knew him well and didn’t deny him his diversion. “Ernest has a good eye. I’ll have to thank him.”

  “How do you know I didn’t personally pick that out?” He used the voice of feigned indignation that his Jack character would have used.

  She laughed softly. After this past day, that sexy laugh was a Hallelujah chorus that picked his trampled spirits off the floor. His talk with the police chief after the video session, about his and Willa’s vendetta against Dell and his production company, had been an uncomfortable one.

  “It’s pink, for one.” She admired the gauzy fabric draping her full figure. “I adore pink but you always told me I couldn’t wear it. And it would never have occurred to you that I’d like a cover-up.”

  “It’s not pink,” Josh argued, simply because he enjoyed an excuse for studying her. “It’s a whole bunch of colors. You look like a floating rainbow.”

  “All rainbows float, and this is a pink one. Melon, tangerine, rose. . .” She lifted her arm so the gauze drifted in whatever air currents were stirring. “Give Ernest a kiss from me.”

  Josh snorted. “Kiss him yourself. He’ll faint either way, but my reputation is hanging by a thread as it is. Ginger can get away with kisses easier. And I wouldn’t have bought a cover-up because I like looking at you. I didn’t know Zeke would be here when we ordered it, though, so I guess that worked out.”

  She glanced at the kid diving off the board. “He needs rest. Tomorrow could be a long day.”

  “Are you expecting Crystal to show up?” He’d love a good fight right about now. If he couldn’t crush Dell’s windpipe, he could take on an old bitch.

  She began gathering up her things. “I don’t know what to expect. I’m trying not to believe that was Dell’s Porsche.”

  The complications were beyond numerous, now that Josh was forced to face them. If Dell had been in Hillvale, he could have seen Amber. If Dell had talked to Willa, Willa could have told him Amber was here. And now the kid was here too, and Dell and the kid’s guardian were in cahoots. It wasn’t all about him anymore.

  “Maybe it’s time you told me what went down between you and Dell,” Josh said, hating himself for having to say it.

  Amber’s pained expression told him she hated him for saying it too.

  Fourteen

  Josh’s cell phone beeped.

  Relieved at the narrow escape from an uncomfortable conversation, Amber sent Zeke off to change into street clothes. Now that she was dry, she merely pulled on her caftan. She really loved the way the new bathing suit supported her breasts and nipped in at her waist, making it look as if she had real curves, but she’d spent too many years concealed by fabric to be comfortable half naked.

  Josh wrinkled his nose in objection at her covering-up but read his phone without saying anything. />
  His heated looks this evening had churned memories better laid to rest. He made her feel like the teenager she no longer was, and he looked at her as if she hadn’t changed. Admittedly, her teenage-self had never been much to look at—sturdy and straight as a stick, thanks to constant dieting to stay in her boyish adolescent role. Josh’s taste had matured since then, if Willa was any example.

  Josh cursed at the text message and pressed her shoulder, preventing her from rising. “Wait,” he ordered in a low voice.

  She froze, not just at his touch but the authority in his voice. She’d accepted his touch earlier, when she’d been paralyzed at the thought of Dell in Hillvale. So she stifled her instinctive reaction and waited.

  He released her to answer the text, then turned the phone so she could read it.

  CK AND TTT AT DOOR. INVITED IN. HIDE

  “From Ernest?” she asked. “Who is CK and TTT?”

  “He’s in my suite, working. My guess would be Carmel Kennedy and Tinseltown Today. It’s nearly midnight. No one but the lodge manager knows what room I’m in, but Carmel is an owner. The manager couldn’t stop her if she wanted to find me. I can’t imagine why they’d be intruding at this hour, though, unless something urgent came up.” Josh rose to fling towels in the bin.

  She pulled on shoes. “I had a minor confrontation with Carmel earlier. She knows we’ve been using the pool and may just be getting even. And she called you my murdering boyfriend, so I’m guessing in her sick mind, she’s trying to show that you are two-timing Willa. Which is pretty ridiculous unless she knows I’m Ginger.”

  He sent her a sharp look. “Not ridiculous. You’re as gorgeous as Willa, if looks are what you’re referring to.”

  Amber gifted him with a glare at the flattery. “Carmel Kennedy is a sick person who apparently derives pleasure in making everyone as miserable as she is.”

  Which could be pretty darned miserable if reporters discovered Amber’s identity. She could see her current fat-self splashed on the front page of the tabloids, side-by-side with images from her younger days. She’d had enough humiliation for a lifetime. She didn’t want to encourage more.

  Josh produced a card key from his bag. “The lodge manager apparently has some experience in concealing guests. I had him rent the suite across from mine without using my name. There’s a private entrance. Wait in the suite, and I’ll come get you when the coast is clear. Or better yet, make yourself at home, put Zeke to bed, and I’ll come over so we can talk.”

  Walker had brought her over earlier. Josh had promised to take them home. At this hour, walking was not an option, even if she could manage a couple of miles, which she couldn’t. Amber gazed at the dark windows surrounding the pool. Despite the nighttime privacy, she still felt exposed.

  “This is beginning to feel like a Jack and Ginger episode, one where we sneak around at night and get caught with our hands in the cookie jar,” she complained, hiding her trepidation. “Is Hollywood catching?”

  “I’m not into the drama any more than you are.” He greeted a damp-haired Zeke as he emerged from the dressing room in shorts and t-shirt. “We’re playing hide and seek, kid. Take this key. Use it to take the back exit and hide your aunt in this room number.”

  It was Amber’s turn to wrinkle the Nose of Distaste at him. They’d developed these signals years ago but the habit returned easily. She might disapprove of his means of stifling Zeke’s questions, but they worked. Zeke eagerly took the card and raced for the exit.

  Josh planted a reassuring kiss on her hair. “I’ll do my best aw-shucks Jack act and get rid of them.” He aimed for the corridor entrance they’d used earlier.

  The damned man made it so damned easy to believe they could go back to who they once were. . . But they were adults now, and it just wasn’t happening.

  “Is Granny here?” Zeke whispered as they slipped into the cool night air.

  Of course, he would think it was all about him. Did she lie? How would she explain about a crazy woman and her own desire to avoid publicity?

  “We don’t know what it’s about,” she told him, honestly. “But for right now, we don’t want anyone knowing I’m Ginger, got that?”

  Zeke uttered an inelegant sound as he looked for room numbers along the back of the lodge. “Ladies don’t change their faces with their hair.”

  Her hair, her size. . . “I got old, okay? People think Ginger is a kid.” She waited as Zeke importantly waved the key over the lock and turned the light green.

  Unfortunately, he hadn’t learned manners and dashed in ahead of her. “Wow, look at this place. It’s a palace!” Zeke leaped for the huge screen TV.

  Amber thought a string of curse words but merely grabbed the remote. “Josh and I have things to talk about. Let’s check out the bed. He said you can sleep here, if you like.”

  Willing to be distracted, he raced for the nearest door. “There’s another TV in here,” he called back. “I want this room!”

  Rolling her eyes, Amber crossed the living area to check the second bedroom. A sumptuous king bed, desk, TV, mirrors. . . Good grief, the suite was probably larger than her cottage.

  She’d stayed in bigger hotel rooms, she supposed. There had been one presidential suite with a grand piano, if she remembered correctly. With a sigh, she crossed back to her nephew’s chosen room and took the other TV remote from him.

  “Sleep,” she told him. “No TV until after breakfast. And if I’m still asleep, you’d better not wake me.”

  He bounced up and down on one of the two regular-sized beds. “If you’re not awake by eight, I get to turn on this TV,” he argued. “I don’t have my Nintendo.”

  “You’ll have to find the remote,” she taunted, holding it over her head.

  “Nah, I’ll just use the buttons.” He found the panel and turned it on manually.

  Relieved at this little piece of normality, Amber laughed and swatted him with a pillow. “Smarty. Then just be quiet unless we’re being invaded.”

  Unexpectedly, Zeke hugged her waist. “I want to stay here with you. Granny shouts and never laughs.”

  Melting, near tears, she knuckled his tousled hair. “We’ll make it happen, but we both have to be on our best behavior until the lawyers work it out, okay?”

  He nodded against her, then stomped off to wash and prepare for bed.

  Her heart ached as she closed the door on him. She’d never really thought about having kids. Marriage had been too much of an impossibility. But having Zeke with her. . . filled an empty place she hadn’t known existed.

  The landline rang. She couldn’t decide if she hoped it was Josh calling off their meeting or not. She longed to see him, but she didn’t want to tell him what he wanted to know. Clenching her teeth, she lifted the receiver.

  Ernest whispered, “Josh is lousy at lying. Give me a distraction that will get them out of here.”

  Underneath her fretting and fear simmered a cauldron of anger. That made this an easy request—because lying was second nature to her. After what Zeke had told them, Dell deserved whatever she threw at him. “Tell them you just received word that the police and feds are searching Dell’s place for child porn. Say Josh needs to call the kids’ mothers and warn them the press will be on Dell’s doorstep in the morning.”

  Ernest cackled. “That’s evil. I love it. Love you.” He hung up.

  Evil, yup, the lodge had infected her already. Good thing she hadn’t brought her crystal walking stick or it would be bopping her on the head. Sooner or later, her lawyer would bring the police down on Dell, so maybe she could say she was psychic.

  It was nice to know that Josh was still lousy at lying. He’d never been much of an actor, but he’d been creative with expressions and voices, and the role of Jack had been written for his brash, honest self as the show went on. She’d been the one who had to really dig down and pretend she was the tomboy she most definitely was not. She’d wanted to be frilly and flirty and drive men mad with her smile. She’d wanted h
eels and prom dresses.

  They’d cut her hair even shorter and dressed her in sparkly overalls for award shows. Her counselor had called it psychological abuse, a form of bullying, but as a kid, she hadn’t known better.

  She turned off the air conditioning and pulled a shawl out of her swim bag. She’d already had wine this evening. Wine was mostly sugar. She shouldn’t have more. So she paced, waiting to see if Josh would show up.

  She’d swum four laps tonight. Surely that deserved a second glass.

  She was headed for the bar when she heard the latch turn.

  Josh slipped in and shut the door. When he saw her, he smiled wearily. Everything he felt was in his eyes, and she nearly wept for him. Hesitating, she opened her arms. She’d always been a hugger. It had only been after. . .

  She didn’t think about it but wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Buzzards,” he muttered, encompassing her in his arms. “I despise this business.”

  “It’s not the business,” she said, fighting the instinctive urge to push away. “It’s the rotten apples. There are always rotten apples.”

  “And fruit flies and maggots,” he said with a laugh. “I needed that.” He released her and walked off to find the bar.

  Despite her spineless quiver, she missed his hug.

  “Ernest told me you were the instigator of that awful rumor, thank you. The jerk from Tinseltown ran as if his pants were on fire, cursing all the way when he couldn’t reach anyone on his cell.”

  “That will teach him to follow legit stories instead of going for slime.” Amber accepted the wine he handed her, hoping it would settle her nerves. “And Carmel?”

  “Is a nasty piece of work, you’re right. She had no other reason to be there and had to follow him out. But the rags know where I am now. I’ll have to find a new place.” Weariness lining his whiskered jaw, he sipped his wine and watched her. “Now tell me why you really left Dell and why you don’t like me touching you.”

  Crap. He was too damned observant. She set the glass down and tugged her shawl around her. “Old news. We need to call Xavier, the rental agent, in the morning, see if any of the cottages are empty for you to hide in.”