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Forever Mine: A Fun and Flirty Romantic Mystery (Amber Reed Mystery Book 3)

Page 3

by Zanna Mackenzie


  “Oh I don’t really,” she replies. “It’s Ennis who knows her. They worked on a movie together last year and Amelia and Ty invited us along knowing that we’d only just returned from filming in Australia and poor Ennis was in great need of a break.”

  “How are you two lovely young things doing?”

  I look up to see a man I know to be Grant Wardle hovering over us. Mentally I run through the chalet’s guest list. He’s engaged to Cara Dawson, Ty’s sister. They’re staying in the Sapphire Suite.

  Some people you can tell at an instant are slimy. I immediately slot Grant Wardle into that category. He’s about six foot tall with foppish blond hair, a perma-tan and a leering smile.

  “I’m Grant,” he gushes. “And you are?”

  “Thirsty,” Siobhan says and makes a hasty retreat, heading for the bar in the corner of the room manned by Hannah.

  Thanks very much, Siobhan.

  “So it’s just the two of us now then, lovely lady. I’ve told you my name, now it’s your turn.”

  “Your name is Grant,” I deadpan.

  For a moment he looks confused. Then he laughs and puts a hand on my arm. “You cheeky little thing! No, I meant tell me what your name is.”

  Duh.

  “Amber.”

  “Perfect. With hair your colour that’s the perfect name for you.” He leans closer. “Before I swept Cara off her feet and proposed, I used to have a thing for redheads.”

  Oh goodie.

  “I’m not a redhead. My hair’s more blonde with a brown kind of red tinge.”

  “Nonsense! So,” he turns to inspect the room and his eyes settle on Charlie who is working the space like a pro and making polite (and I’m betting useful for the investigation) conversation with everyone. “You’re with him aren’t you?”

  “Not right at this moment, no. He’s all the way over the other side of the room.”

  “Ha ha! You are a funny one.”

  Cara pushes her way through a cluster of people and heads straight for us both with a chastising look on her face. “Grant! There you are. I wondered where you’d escaped to.”

  Grant lifts a manicured hand to cover his mouth and whispers to me. “Escape being the operative word.”

  Ah. All is not perfect in Grant and Cara’s relationship then I take it.

  “Come over here and listen to Daddy tell his story about what happened at the golf club last week.”

  Grant winks at me as Cara whisks him away, throwing a glare at me as she does so.

  “Found out anything interesting?” I recognise that soft but deep voice beside me.

  “Possibly. How about you?”

  Charlie nods. “We’ll compare notes when we get back to our room. Speaking of which, it’s late and I’m ready to head up there. How about you?”

  “Shouldn’t we stay until the last guests go to their rooms to maximise questioning opportunities?”

  “Nah, I’ve already maximised them for now. They’ll all still be here tomorrow,” Charlie surprises me by answering. “Besides we have a lot of work to do.”

  Ah. That’s the Charlie I know. Still focused on the job in hand.

  I’m barely through the bedroom door before Charlie has his laptop up and running and we’re logging into the agency database. He taps in all the names of the people we know of so far out here. As the search results start to filter back through we each get online and start reading through them, printing off, making notes. We work well into the early hours of the morning collating intel (see, I’m getting into the spy-speak now). By three o’clock we have basic reports back on everyone we’ve asked for, have worked through the file and highlighted bits which may be of relevance to the case and bits which require more in depth investigation or background stuff.

  Charlie leans back against the pillows of the bed. “So who do we have as our first main suspect to tackle?” he asks.

  “We don’t,” I reply, flopping down next to him, a headache thudding behind my eyes. “From the details we have so far there doesn’t appear to be any one person jumping out as a likely suspect above the others. Not yet.”

  He gets to his feet, picks up the sheaf of papers and starts reading through them again. “We have to narrow it down more. We need to go through all of these again and again until we get our key in-house suspects.”

  “I’m done in. Can we leave it for now and get some sleep?” I plead, struggling to keep my eyes open. I know this case is important but I am soooo tired.

  “You can if you want. I’ll go through these reports again. We must be missing something.”

  I groan, switch off my bedside light and crawl under the duvet still in the leggings and sweatshirt I changed into earlier when we got back to the bedroom.

  Then I feel guilty. I’m trying to sleep when Charlie’s right; we should be focused on compiling and prioritising our suspects list. Tomorrow we have to start our questioning and we can’t do it the easy way because nobody knows we’re here to work not play. Which means everything will take so much longer to do. We have to get chatting with each of them in turn, subtly try to find out more about them and their lives while not coming across as creepy or arousing suspicions. Meanwhile Amelia’s weirdo stalker is still out there (or in here, staying at the chalet, which makes it all even more worrying) and who knows what his next move will be? Who else is he going to threaten, shoot or cause to have an ‘accident’? I sigh. Charlie’s focus is always on the case and the client. He isn’t worried about getting some sleep. Will I ever be like that if I decide to try and train to be an agent? Could I, one day, move up from my current support officer role? I snuggle under the deliciously soft duvet and try to push away the guilt as my eyes slide closed of their own accord.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Amelia Kingston knocks on our door surprisingly early the next morning. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear looking nervous. “I wondered if we could have a proper chat now about the case?”

  “Yes please,” Charlie says immediately. He’s been chomping at the bit to get back to questioning her. Charlie is not the most patient of men.

  “We didn’t expect you to be back at the chalet so soon,” I say, joining Charlie in the doorway.

  “Ty is doing much better now so I came back to freshen up and talk things through with you guys. I’ll be heading straight back to the hospital afterwards and thought you might both want to come with me so you can talk to Ty this time. Nothing too strenuous though.” She steps close and lowers her voice. “And I forgot to say before that he knows nothing about the stalker so please don’t mention any of that stuff to him. Nobody here knows about it.”

  “Of course we won’t say anything,” I reply in a whisper, wondering why she’s keeping her stalker a secret from her boyfriend.

  “Why don’t I ask Greg if he can rustle us up some of his delicious chocolate cake and coffees in the lounge? We can talk there in private.”

  A leading Hollywood actress eats chocolate cake? Surely not. Then again, in the circumstances, she’s so stressed out it’s totally understandable she’s going for comfort food.

  “I’ll see you down there in ten minutes. I’m so glad you’re here,” she says giving Charlie a quick hug before disappearing along the corridor.

  “You two seem friendly,” I say as I close the door. “You’ve worked together before then?”

  Charlie flashes me a warning look. I have a tendency to get jealous sometimes and Charlie hates the fact I have trust issues. In my defence Charlie fits the classic tall, dark and extremely handsome description to a T. He’s also a special agent, so has the whole sexy spy-type thing going on, not to mention he’s smart, funny and charming. And he mixes with and comes to the rescue of celebrities, often stunningly beautiful actresses and pop stars, for his job.

  I’m sure you understand why I can get a bit insecure at times. I’m nothing special. Long hair which is neither fiery red nor true blonde. My mum calls it strawberry blonde. As nature usually pairs that hair
colour with pale skin I have a typically British skin tone and cheeks which blush at the drop of a hat – even when I’m not lying. I’m still amazed Charlie and I got together. He is way out of my league.

  I decide to take things off in a different direction. “She still looks pretty stressed. Are you sure putting her through questioning right away is a good idea?”

  “We have to get on with our jobs, Amber. We’ve waited too long already. The sooner we get this part over with the quicker we can crack on with finding the guy stalking her and shooting her boyfriend.”

  “The two things are definitely related then?”

  “Seems an unlikely coincidence if they’re not.” He slips an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, let’s go and do the questioning. If you want we can do the good cop, bad cop thing. I’ll ask the awkward stuff and you can try the softly softly approach.”

  “OK.”

  Except neither of us are actually cops. Charlie has agency jurisdiction which goes way beyond what the police can do if he decides he needs to pull rank. And me, well, I’m just the support officer.

  By the time we find our way to the lounge amongst the myriad of doors, staircases and corridors Amelia is already waiting for us. She’s sitting next to one of those trendy log burners with a modern steel chimney above it. Her cheeks are flushed, whether from the heat or the prospect of the conversation we’re about to have I can’t tell. I notice there’s an empty side plate in front of her with a fork on it. The dark crumbs on its surface suggest Amelia has started on the chocolate cake without us.

  “Come and sit down,” she says, pointing to the sofa opposite her.

  Charlie perches on the edge of the brown chenille sofa and pulls his black notebook from the pocket of his jeans. “How is Mr Dawson doing? He’s better you say?”

  “Yes, thankfully he’s on the mend,” she replies. “The doctor told me the shot hasn’t done any long term serious damage. It just grazed him. It could have been so… Anyway, I’m just beyond relieved he’s going to be OK.”

  “What exactly happened when Mr Dawson got shot? Were you with him?” Charlie asks, leaping straight back into questioning mode.

  Amelia shakes her head. “No, I’m not big on hiking. Ty was with a few of our other guests. They had a local professional mountain guide with them and everything but it still didn’t stop…” Her words trail off into nothing again.

  “Take your time,” I say, leaning forward to rest a comforting and encouraging hand on her knee. “This must be very difficult for you.”

  She nods, gulps and then continues. “There’s no way this was an accident like the local police are thinking. They said people do hunt in the forest around here illegally despite their best efforts and thought it might have been that Ty was in the wrong place at the wrong time. If it was genuinely a hunting accident then whoever shot him was poaching in an area which is a well-known hiking trail.”

  She stops and sniffs at a tissue. “If all the other things hadn’t been going on with me then maybe it could have been a terrible and unfortunate accident but now, with this stalker stuff, there’s no way this was an accident. It had to have been done deliberately. It’s all part of this twisted game he’s playing with me. Getting into my room, leaving the gifts and notes.” She shudders and moves closer to the fire.

  “I notice you’re assuming it’s a guy,” I say, throwing my thoughts into the mix. “It could be a woman.”

  She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so, not with the things which were written in the notes.”

  “Can you tell us which of your guests was with Ty when he had the accident up on the mountain?” Charlie asks. “We’ll need to have a casual chat with them to see if we can glean anything useful.”

  When I first found out we’d be working undercover on this case I’m afraid I have to confess a part of me thought it sounded glamourous and exciting. I can see the reality is very different. If we’d been here in our official CCIA capacity then we could have just formally questioned all of the chalet’s guests and sorted out all our suspects. This way we have to try to blend in with the group, make friends and find out information the hard way.

  Though we still have the research team back at agency HQ to run background checks and that kind of stuff for us, which is a huge help. I’ve been told by Charlie, and by my agency trainer and mentor James, that getting people to talk, to open up, is one of my strengths when it comes to this job. It’s looking as though I’m going to get plenty of chance to put that theory to the test.

  “Of course,” Amelia is saying. “His dad Howard and one of our guests Micky, they were both with him. Oh, and the professional ski and mountain guide Tom Williamson of course, like I mentioned before at the hospital.”

  “Can you tell us a bit more about this Tom?” Charlie asks.

  “Well, he’s British but lives out here doing ski and mountain guiding work and he also does some chalet handyman maintenance stuff.” She fidgets in her seat. “I can’t say much more about him really.”

  “So tell us about these gifts and notes you’ve been finding in your room instead,” Charlie says.

  Amelia gets to her feet and fetches a designer handbag from a nearby table. She sits back down and pulls a bundle of papers and a gift bag covered in gold stars from it, placing them on the table. “Take a look.”

  I peek inside the bag and see three small red boxes of varying shapes. The name Hunter Walker & Sons is written in gold on the lids. Opening each of them I see first a pair of gold and diamond earrings, then a necklace with a love heart pendant on it and finally a charm for a bracelet, it’s of a tiny camera. A taking-a-photo type of camera, not a filming-a-movie type of camera.

  I’m no expert but I presume each of the items is real gold so whoever is stalking Amelia has plenty of pennies in his bank account.

  Charlie takes the charm from me and examines it before turning to Amelia. “Do you think he’s selected these items for a particular reason? Why would he have chosen to send you a camera charm? Can you think of any significance? Might this person be involved in the world of media? A photographer? Somebody who has taken photos of you before for an interview or your portfolio? Some aspects of this case suggest an inside job but we have to be open to all possibilities.”

  Amelia looks thoughtful for a moment then shakes her head. She looks close to tears. “I don’t know. So many people take my photo for different projects and publicity. There have been a lot of creepy photographers in my life who could be possible stalkers.”

  “What about the notes? Are there any clues in those?” I ask gently.

  “He…” She pauses, looking around nervously before continuing. “He knows things about me, but how?”

  Charlie picks up the envelopes and I lean closer so I can read the cards too.

  My darling Amelia,

  I hope you like my gift. I chose it especially for you. I’m sure it will go perfectly with the green velvet dress you’re planning to wear for dinner tonight. I love the way that dress clings to you in all the right places. Now you’re wondering how I know about the dress aren’t you? Well, I know everything about you, Amelia, and I mean everything. I know your secrets and I could tell the world about them and ruin you and your career. I will as well, if you don’t do exactly as I say.

  You are Forever Mine

  Your biggest fan

  X

  I glance at Amelia and wonder what secrets her stalker is referring to.

  “Are all of the notes signed in the same way?” Charlie asks. “I’m assuming he’s referring to your latest movie, Forever Mine, the one you won the Oscar for?”

  She nods. “Yes, they’re all signed in the same way.”

  “So all of this could be connected to your recent success then. There might be some relevance in that. It might help us track down who he is,” I say.

  “But how could he know what dress I was going to wear for dinner?” she asks with an obvious tremor in her voice. “How did he get into my room? All
of this is driving me insane. He could have killed Ty and it’s all because of me. It’s all my fault.” She looks around as though expecting to spot someone skulking behind the floor length curtains.

  “All valid questions which I promise you we will find the answers to,” Charlie assures her. He picks up the second envelope and pulls out an identical card but with a different message on it.

  My darling Amelia,

  You didn’t wear that green dress last night. I’m very disappointed in you Amelia. Believe me, I am not the type of person you want to disappoint. When you get back to your room tonight I want you to put on the dress and my latest gift, then step outside onto your bedroom balcony so I can see you. Stay out there till you’re blue with the cold. That will give me chance to see you properly. If you don’t, well, let’s just say you’ll be sorry. I’ve already warned you what will happen if you displease me.

  You are Forever Mine

  Your biggest fan

  x

  “Did you do as he asked?” Charlie quizzes.

  Amelia nods. “On that occasion yes I did. I was worried what he might do if I ignored him. That night Ty stayed down in the lounge with some of the other guys to enjoy a few more drinks so I went up to my room alone. I put on the dress and the jewellery and went out onto my private balcony.”

  Charlie lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “That could have been a very dangerous thing to do.”

  “What?” Amelia snaps. “I should have just ignored him? I was scared what he might do either way. I didn’t want to aggravate him by ignoring him.”

  “So what are these secrets he’s referring to?” I ask.

  “I suppose most people have,” she pauses and draws in a deep breath before continuing, “skeletons in their closet. I don’t think he knows anything about me though, he’s probably just bluffing.”

  “Is there anything for him to know, Amelia?” Charlie asks, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “Are there any skeletons in your closet that Amber and I should know about?”

  She shakes her head. “Of course not.”

  “Then why were you worried about his threats?” Charlie asks, leaning forward to look Amelia straight in the eye.

 

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