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

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Forever Mine: A Fun and Flirty Romantic Mystery (Amber Reed Mystery Book 3) Page 7

by Zanna Mackenzie


  “I’m going in,” Charlie says. “Before these guys find something they shouldn’t.”

  There’s no way they’ll let anyone back inside yet, I think. Then I see Charlie isn’t going back in via the main entrance. He’s scooting round the side of the building and climbing back up the fire escape which is out of sight of the police and fire crews. I snuggle into the interior of the car in search of a bit of shelter from the wind as Amelia and I wait for Charlie to return. He does so in a matter of minutes. There’s nothing in his hands so I hope he got to the card and box before the police or fire guys did. He’s pulled on a sweater I don’t recognise and I assume it’s from Ty’s wardrobe. The gift and card must be tucked under the sweater.

  Charlie climbs into the back of the car then leans forward to hand both items to Amelia.

  Nervously she slides a finger underneath the flap of the envelope and pulls out the slim card. I stay back in my seat, giving her a semblance of privacy, but Charlie leans forward to read the card over her shoulder. He takes it from her trembling hands, inspects it closely, then passes it to me.

  I warned you what would happen if you didn’t do as I ask. Your little chalet could have been burnt to the ground tonight. With you in it. And your guests.

  You are Forever Mine

  Your biggest fan

  X

  “What’s in the box this time?” I ask as Amelia unwraps the gold paper.

  “A watch,” she says as she moves to lift it out. Charlie stops her.

  “He’s never left fingerprints on anything else but let me check it out.”

  She nods, closes the lid and hands the box to Charlie just as one of the policemen walks over to the car.

  “Say nothing,” Charlie mumbles as the policeman opens the car door and leans down to talk to Amelia.

  A three-way conversation in French ensues and I only manage to pick up the odd word here and there. Fire. Damage. Careful.

  As the man walks away I ask, “What did he say? Something about damage?”

  “Thankfully the fire itself didn’t reach further than the lounge but there’s some smoke damage throughout the house. He suggests we all move into a local hotel for the night then we can assess the damage tomorrow and take things from there,” Amelia says.

  “It’s two in the morning. None of the hotels in the resort are going to be open for reservations in the middle of the night,” I say. My feet are freezing and right now I just want to crawl back into my bed.

  “He’s going to contact a couple of hotels he knows the managers of. The resort is busy but he says there should be enough rooms for all of us. Maybe not all in one hotel but we’ll be OK,” Charlie says.

  Once everyone has been checked over for any smoke inhalation problems we’re all ushered into a police van and driven down to the resort. I feel like a criminal as I stare out of the windows while the van whizzes through the darkness to take us to the hotels chosen by the local constabulary. So this is what it feels like to be arrested. Well, kind of what it feels like. We haven’t done anything too illegal (are there degrees of illegal?) but I’m uncomfortable with the fact we’re keeping secrets from the local police.

  The van pulls up at a hotel and half of us, including Charlie and I, are ushered out and into the reception area. The night duty receptionist, a man in his fifties with an air of seen-it-all-before about him, speedily assigns our keys as a policeman assures him the bill will be settled by Amelia in the morning as soon as she gets back to her room and her credit cards.

  Our bedroom is small but perfectly formed and I lift the duvet and crawl underneath. Charlie slumps in a chair and rubs at his eyes.

  “Are you OK?” I ask, concern making my throat go all tight.

  He nods. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  His phone rings and he pulls it from his pyjama trouser pocket. I didn’t realise he had it with him but of course it would have been the first thing he grabbed before we left our room. Charlie is rarely without his phone. I frown. It’s half past three in the morning. Who could be calling him at this time of night? It must be Amelia but she’s only just left us as she went off to her room on the same floor of the hotel we’re staying on.

  Charlie swears under his breath as he answers the call and I feel my stomach clench with nerves. Who is on the other end of that phone?

  I watch as he pushes a hand through his already ruffled hair. A sure sign he’s not happy. “Hello? Yes. Right. Yeah, really? I suppose so if I have to. OK. Er, yes, sorry, I mean, yes, sir.”

  “Sir?” There’s only one person Charlie calls sir. Why is he getting a call from that person in the middle of the night?

  This cannot be good news.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  He ends the phone call, shakes his head and sighs. “That was the big bad agency boss. Apparently I’m being taken off this case and sent to LA. A previous client has issued their demands and insists they want me to work a case which has just come up.”

  I frown and stupidly say, “But you’re working on this case already. Amelia is not going to be happy about you suddenly disappearing off to America. Why can’t they send somebody else?”

  “Because what the client wants, the client gets.” He pushes a hand through his hair again. “This particular client will only work with me,” he says with another sigh followed by yet more swear words.

  “What particular client?” I venture.

  “I can’t say any details about the case other than I’ll be going undercover and that the client is the actress Delilah Simmonds.”

  “Oh.”

  Delilah Simmonds has a fierce reputation as a Hollywood diva. What she wants, she does indeed get. In this case it looks as though it’s Charlie she wants. Oh, did I mention she’s also a former swimwear model?

  He shoots me a pleading look. “Come on, Amber. You know I’m not shutting you out on this. It’s a separate case, one that we’re not working on together and because of that I can’t discuss it with you.”

  All true but irritating and annoying none the less. “When do you have to leave?”

  “Pretty much first thing in the morning. They have a replacement agent all ready to come out to France. You’ll be getting a call soon to update you officially on the situation.”

  “Who are they sending here for me to work with?” I wonder if it’s Martha. Or James. Working with James would be great. He’s my agency trainer and these days I’d say he’s a good friend too.

  “I don’t know. They didn’t tell me. I’m officially off the case so who my replacement is, as far as they’re concerned, is none of my business. Except, of course, that whoever my replacement is will be working with you.” He gets to his feet and comes and sits on the edge of the bed. “Are you going to be OK with that?”

  “I don’t have a choice,” I reply, feeling anything but OK.

  Charlie snuggles onto the bed next to me and wraps his arms around my waist. “Sorry, Amber but there’s nothing I can do about it. When the agency say ‘jump’, I have to say ‘how high?’ You know how it works.”

  I do know how it works.

  That’s no consolation though.

  I realise my phone is back in our room at the chalet so I won’t be getting my call about who Charlie’s replacement is until the morning when we’re officially allowed back inside. I can grab a change of clothes and check my phone before heading off to the airport to get Charlie on his flight and meet the incoming agent at the same time.

  The early morning call on Charlie’s phone wakes us at what seems like only minutes after we’ve fallen asleep. It’s seven in the morning.

  Charlie answers the call as a part of me waits and hopes that it might be the big bad boss saying Diva Delilah has changed her mind and he no longer has to jump on a flight across the Atlantic to solve her case.

  “Right. OK. Thanks, Amelia. We’ll see you downstairs in ten minutes.”

  Ah. Amelia then, not the agency boss.

  Shame.

  I sit up in bed.
r />   “Amelia has contacted the local police already and been given clearance to go back in the chalet. She wants us to be the first to go back with her. Once we’ve looked the place over we can call the others and let them know they can go back too.”

  “Any news from the fire people about what started the fire? Are they suspicious of what happened?”

  “No, not so far anyway. They said they think it looked as though the fireguard wasn’t put on and a spark from the dying embers set off the fire.”

  “But we know otherwise. I saw Greg set that fireguard last night before we went up to bed. Amelia’s stalker must have moved it and agitated the fire to create a spark to start the fire. Isn’t that a concern? That they’ll interview Greg and he’ll say he put the guard there?”

  “Amelia’s one step ahead of us on that front. She’s spoken to Greg this morning as well. She told him she couldn’t sleep and went back down to the lounge after everyone had gone to bed. She said she moved the guard and forgot to put it back.”

  From the outside the chalet doesn’t look any worse for its fire ordeal. Inside is a different story though. The lounge is a complete write-off but elsewhere there’s no actual fire damage only smoke damage. The stench hangs heavy in the air making me feel sick.

  Once we’ve finished our tour of inspection we head upstairs and change into some daytime clothing. All of our clothes, unsurprisingly, have a smoky smell. Everything needs washing but there’s no time for that as Charlie starts throwing his stuff into a bag without folding or rolling anything - his version of packing. I feel that clench in my stomach again.

  Charlie is leaving and I’m going to be working with somebody else. I’m not feeling ultra-confident in my abilities yet. This is only my second case and with Charlie I know I can ask questions and not worry he’s going to think I’m stupid or incapable of doing my job. Working with someone else is a whole different kettle of fish. Especially if it’s a stranger. Martha can be demanding and a bit bitchy at times but at least I know her. James would be like working with Charlie – only without the bedroom benefits. James has a steady girlfriend anyway so even if I wasn’t already involved with Charlie then there would be zero chance of romance with James to complicate matters even further.

  “Right, I’m packed,” Charlie says as he zips the holdall shut. “Now I have to go and tell Amelia I’m off the case.”

  “She is not going to be happy,” I reply. “And neither am I.”

  He comes over and slips an arm around my waist, gently tugging me towards him. “You are going to be fine and you’re going to help solve this case in no time because you’re great at your job. I believe in you, you just need to get some more belief in yourself.”

  “What if it’s an agent I don’t know? It’ll be awkward. I won’t know their work style or personality. I’ll have to bring them up to speed on everything plus how are we going to explain his or her presence to everyone else?”

  Charlie shrugs. “I don’t know, Amber but you’ll figure it out. I have every faith in you. Can I ask one thing though?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Please, I beg, don’t go off doing stuff on your own that you shouldn’t. Remember what happened last time you did that?”

  I remember vividly. I remember the cold steel of the knife against my throat. I remember thinking I was going to be murdered in a cave on a deserted beach. My body never to be found.

  “I promise I won’t.”

  “Good.” Charlie kisses me on the lips, lightly. I hope this isn’t our official goodbye kiss. I want a proper deep and meaningful kiss before Charlie walks away from me at the airport. Goodness knows when I’ll see him again.

  “Guys?” Amelia’s voice drifts through the door of our room.

  “Looks like this is your chance to tell Amelia you’re leaving.”

  She knocks on the half open door and then pops her head around it. “Everything OK?”

  “Amelia, can you come and sit down for a minute please?” Charlie asks.

  She gives him a weary look but perches on the edge of the sofa in the lounge area of our room.

  “I had a call from my boss at the agency last night. I’m afraid I’ve been taken off this case and put on another one.”

  She frowns. “What? Why?”

  “The client insists it’s me and only me they want to work their case. I have to fly to America this morning.”

  She gets to her feet. “What? But they can’t do that! You’re working this case for me. I’m going to call up and complain.”

  “You can try but I think you’ll be wasting your breath. I’m sorry, Amelia. Amber will be staying on and will continue working this investigation. A new agent will be at the airport ready to come back here when Amber returns after dropping me off to get my flight.”

  “Who is the new agent?” she asks, looking first at Charlie and then at me.

  I can see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. She’s wondering if I can handle this. She’s hoping for a new agent every bit as good as, if not better than, Charlie.

  So am I.

  “We don’t know yet,” Charlie replies. “As soon as we do know we’ll let you know. And I’m sure you’ll be getting a call from the agency explaining the situation, apologising for the inconvenience and listing the credentials of my replacement.”

  “Well, I’m going to go and let my other guests know they can return to the chalet now and ask Greg to cook up an extra delicious breakfast to try and cheer us all up.” She gets to her feet and leaves, clearly still not happy about the agent swapping.

  Charlie grabs a notepad and starts scribbling notes which I have a good idea will be a list of the things I need to look into as I continue with the investigation in his absence.

  Then I remember I haven’t checked my phone for my message from the agency. Have they told me who I’ll be working with or just left instructions for me to call HQ?

  I find my phone on the bedside table and check messages.

  I listen as the agency allocation manager explains the situation. Clearly I am not important enough to get a call from the big bad boss himself. Only Charlie gets that. I get agency allocation telling me about the change of plan instead. I hold my breath, waiting to hear who I’ll be meeting at the airport to bring back to the resort. Please don’t let it be a stranger. Even working with Martha would be preferable to that. Then I hear the name and my mouth goes dry. I end the call and see Charlie standing looking at me expectantly.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Well?” he prompts. “Who are they sending as my replacement?”

  He is not going to be happy about this. I chew on my bottom lip and turn away.

  “Who is it, Amber?” he asks again.

  “Daniel Stone.”

  Charlie shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “Fan bloody tastic. Of all the agents, they have to send him.”

  Daniel Stone is the maverick of the CCIA, the bad boy of the agency. He gets the job done but it tends to be via even more unconventional means than Charlie goes to.

  Charlie and Dan do not get along. I don’t know the details of why. All I know is that they grudgingly respect each other as agents but cannot stand each other as human beings.

  I wonder what reasons are going through Charlie’s head as to why he’s so miffed about Dan being sent out here to take over the case? Professional pride perhaps? Worries for my safety as regards whether Dan will lead me into all sorts of dangerous situations and I’ll end up being the next one to get shot? Maybe even jealousy?

  Charlie doesn’t really do jealousy though. He trusts me. Usually. But we’ve never been in this kind of situation before. A situation where Charlie is being despatched to the other side of the Atlantic Ocean while I’m in another country working on a case, partnered with Daniel Stone.

  Charlie comes towards me and reaches for my hand. “You know what I said before about promising me you’ll not take risks and get yourself lined up as the next victim?”

  I nod and meet hi
s grave expression.

  “Well that promise comes into play even more now I know you’re going to be working with him.”

  We have time to grab some breakfast before we leave for the airport but I’ve completely lost my appetite. Charlie will be on his way to America in just a few hours while I’m left here to finish this investigation with Daniel Stone.

  How is that going to work out? What will Dan be like? I’ve only met him once and he seemed good at his job but a total flirt as well. Oh, did I mention he also looks as though he’s stepped straight out of one of those aftershave commercials on TV? You know the ones, a guy in a tux with the bow tie hanging loose and his shirt open, heavy stubble on his chin and an enticing wave in his dark brown hair.

  Not that I took that much notice of him last time of course. I only remember his looks so well because at the time I was still perfecting my visual sweep techniques and he seemed like a good target to practice on.

  The lounge is all boarded up this morning and the acrid stench of smoke still hangs throughout the chalet. We’re having breakfast out on the decking area and the sun is shining but with the chilly wind I shiver as I sip my coffee. Eating out here this morning has nothing whatsoever to do with enjoying the sunshine; it’s more about trying to get away from the smell of smoke.

  Charlie piles his plate high with hash browns, scrambled eggs and bacon. Clearly he hasn’t lost his appetite. I check my watch. We’ll have to leave in less than an hour. Charlie is chatting away to Mr and Mrs Dawson and Spencer, going over the events of last night. Which means he’s really still investigating, trying to gather any snippets of information, even down to the last few minutes before he leaves.

  I turn my attention to the other end of the table where, wonder of wonders, Pammie has surfaced before noon for once and is sipping at what looks like a glass of hot water with a lemon slice floating in it. She’s chatting to Ty’s sister Cara who is looking surprisingly business-like for a chalet holiday. Her hair is pulled back in a bun and she’s wearing head-to-toe black.

 

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