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

by Zanna Mackenzie

  Dan’s laid-back pose and obvious confidence in my abilities actually relaxes me and soon we reach the edge of the resort, the scary mountain roads behind us and I heave a sigh of relief. I did it. I got us here safely. Go me.

  “Dan?”

  He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Yeah?”

  “I don’t know where you’re staying. Where do you want me to drop you?”

  “I’ve got an address,” he says, leaning forward and fishing a crumpled up piece of paper out of the pocket of his jeans. “The agency has booked me a studio apartment. It would look odd if I turned up to stay at our client’s chalet. Even odder if I stepped right into Charlie Boy’s shoes and started sharing your room right?”

  Right.

  Thankfully I recognise the name of the building Dan’s studio is in, skirt around the edge of the resort and pull up in the car park. I’m all hot and my palms are sweaty from my driving session and concentrating. I hope it doesn’t show.

  Dan steps out of the car. “Coming up?”

  I suppose I should. We need to plan what happens next in the investigation. Amelia’s already disgruntled about having to swap agents halfway through her case so we need to be super-efficient about this and crack on with catching her stalker. I nod and follow Dan into the building. There’s a concierge and Dan introduces himself, shows his passport and collects the keys from the man on duty. Dan is obviously fluent in French as well.

  We take the lift to the fourth floor in silence and soon we’re inside Dan’s home for the next however many days. It’s compact but nicely appointed. There’s a kitchenette, a sofa bed, a bathroom and a balcony.

  Dan flops onto the sofa. “So, we have three suspects we’re focussing the investigation on then. You’ve already made a start on this Fran, and Charlie Boy has done some digging with Micky, Spencer and a little with Tom. Let’s move things along a little shall we? How do you fancy taking some skiing lessons tomorrow?” He flicks a glance in my direction. “Can you ski? If so, you can ask for advanced lessons from this Tom guy.”

  “I can’t ski.”

  He nods. “Perfect.”

  “Why am I the one taking ski lessons?” I ask, having a vision of myself hurtling down a mountain and my teensy fear of heights putting in an appearance.

  “Because our suspect is male. I figure he’ll be far more interested in teaching you to ski and engaging in a little traditional instructor client flirting with a pretty young woman, than he would with me.”

  “That’s sexist,” I protest.

  He shrugs. “True but you’ve got to admit it makes sense.”

  I frown.

  “Hey!” He holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “If you really object then I’ll give it a shot. I’ve never flirted with a guy before but in the line of duty I’m game to try.”

  I burst out laughing. “OK. I’ll do it.”

  “Excellent.” He smiles. “I’m sure we’ll get better results this way. Now, can you contact this Tom today and sort a lesson for tomorrow? Is that doable? He’s the only one of our suspects not staying at the chalet so we don’t know where he was on the night of the fire. We need to get an answer on that front pronto.”

  “Yes, I think so. I can get his phone number from Amelia. Speaking of whom. She asked me to check what you want your cover to be. You can’t just turn up at the chalet as my boyfriend or something, Charlie’s already done that. With the fire last night parts of the chalet are going to need refurbishing. Amelia thought your cover could tie in with this. She suggested you being a builder, architect or interiors specialist.”

  “I’ll go for architect. At least I know a bit about that. I suppose I should come over soon and introduce myself to Amelia. I’m quite looking forward to it to be honest. I’ve seen all her movies. It’ll be great to meet her in person. Perk of the job.”

  “And what will you be doing while I’m attempting to flirt information out of Tom Williamson?” I’m aware the words come out sounding a bit as though I’m checking up on him. Not the best way to start a new working relationship. I needn’t have worried though. He doesn’t appear to have taken offence.

  “I’m going to have a chat with Amelia and check through the chalet and then do my flirting in the line of duty bit as well, only I think I stand a better chance of getting some results with Fran than I do with Tom.” He raises a hand for me to high-five it. “Deal?” he asks.

  I high-five him. “Deal.”

  Working with Dan is going to be very different from working with Charlie. In many ways.

  “Right, I’m going to unpack then maybe you can give me a tour of the resort?”

  I nod and sit on the sofa as he unpacks. OK, he doesn’t have that much to put away but what he does have he surprises me by putting away carefully and neatly. I suppose I’m just used to Charlie’s messiness. My mind flits to the time and I wonder where Charlie is and what he’s doing. He’s probably in London by now and waiting for his connecting flight to LA. He’ll have completely the wrong clothes with him. From a chilly France to a warm LA. He’ll probably have to do some shopping and grab some bits of clothes at the airport or when he arrives in LA.

  Briefly I wonder how much tidiness is down to genes and how much it’s circumstances and environment. Charlie is ex-army and I often think his untidiness is him rebelling against years of spick and span army indoctrination. Dan, I know, has never been anywhere near the army. He’s ex-police. According to gossip his maverick investigation techniques got him into trouble and on disciplinary hearings one too many times. His bravery, quick thinking and blatant disregarding of the rules got him head-hunted by the CCIA who aren’t quite as fussy about whether or not their agents stick to the rules.

  “Ready for the tour?” he asks, standing by the door, jacket in hand. “I’m eager to get this case sorted.”

  After a whirlwind tour we finish up at the chalet and I do the introductions. Everyone else is out so the three of us chat in the kitchen. Dan works his obvious charms on Amelia who, I get the impression, has already forgotten Charlie ever existed.

  “Of course I understand your concerns but I assure you headquarters briefed me thoroughly before I flew out here. I also had a hand-over with Charlie at the airport before he left. In addition Amber has also filled me in on everything from her side of the case so I’m completely up to speed, the investigation will continue seamlessly. We’ve already got our plan of action in place and will be finding your stalker in no time.”

  I spot a huge vase of brightly coloured flowers on the dresser in the kitchen. “Those are gorgeous,” I say to Amelia. “Where did they come from?”

  She chews on her bottom lip, anxiety flicking across her face. “They appeared just before lunch. The doorbell rang and Fran answered it. The flowers had been left on the doorstep. No note.”

  “Are they from him?” Dan asks, wandering over to inspect the flowers.

  Amelia nods. “I think they probably are. I would have just thrown them in the bin but that would have looked odd to Fran so I played along and put them in a vase.”

  “Flowers to go with the notes and gifts,” Dan says, and I can see his mind whirring into action from here. “I’ll check round the local florists and find out who delivered them. Hopefully somebody will be able to give me a description if the guy went in and purchased them. If he made the order over the phone then we can try and glean some info about if he had an accent, deep voice, anything that might help.”

  “Oh, do you have Tom’s phone number to hand?” I ask Amelia. “I’m going to ask him for ski lessons to see if I can get him chatting and find out anything useful.”

  “Yes, I’ll write it down for you but I’m sure it’s not Tom doing this. He’s such a sweetheart. He’ll do anything for me, any time. One call to him from me about a fuse blowing or a leaking tap and he’s straight over to sort it out. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

  “Does he have a girlfriend?” Dan asks, leaning against the kitchen counter top and
tilting his head slightly as he looks at Amelia.

  “I’m not sure,” she answers, looking a little flustered. “He probably just dates. I get the feeling he can’t be short of female attention.”

  “Has he ever asked you out?” Dan asks.

  Amelia laughs and her cheeks flush red. “Goodness no.”

  Dan fixes her with a steady gaze. “And that’s funny why? Because you’re a movie star and he’s just a handyman and a ski and mountain guide?”

  Oh-huh. Looks as though Dan’s maverick tendencies are already kicking in. I hope he doesn’t rub Amelia up the wrong way. We’ve only just placated her about the whole Charlie leaving stuff.

  She blushes slightly. “Of course not. I didn’t mean anything like that. I simply meant I see Tom as a friend, dating him would seem weird. Besides, I am with Ty and we’re… serious.”

  “Understood,” Dan says with a brief nod of his head. “Well, we’ll get going. Amber has a ski lesson to book and I need to get round the florists before they close for the day.”

  Tom is keen for me to hit the slopes for my first skiing lesson and suggests I meet him on the nursery slopes section of the glacier not far from the spot where the cable car ski lift docks - is that the right word? I’m not up on ski terminology.

  Earlier I’d spent ages being fitted out with the various equipment required in the resort’s hire shop. I’d left a message for Dan letting him know I’d got my lesson booked as per my instructions but I didn’t hear back from him last night so I have no idea how he got on with the florists.

  If I was working with Charlie I’d be completely up to date with the case. Not only because we’d have shared a bed together last night.

  Charlie. All I’ve heard from him is a text message saying he’d arrived in LA and was straight down to work. It seemed odd last night in bed alone. I’d sneaked a T-shirt from Charlie’s wardrobe before he’d packed and tucked it under my pillow so I could cuddle up to it at night. I thought it would help but instead I lay awake, the faint scent of his aftershave making me wish even more that he was lying next to me in the bed.

  I get off the ski lift having spent the entire journey up the mountain with my eyes closed to avoid taking in the views and triggering my fear of heights.

  The glacier is surprisingly busy but I spot Tom with a group of kids about twenty feet away. Strange. I make my way over.

  “Amber! Welcome to our little group,” Tom says beckoning me towards him.

  Group? I take in the sea of five-year-old faces staring at me. It looks as though my private lesson and the chance to chat to Tom is on hold and I’m joining a beginner’s class.

  A class of children.

  The only adults are Tom and I. I know I told him I was an absolute beginner but even so.

  It’s not long before I realise I should not be in this class. And it’s not because I’m an adult. It’s because the five-year-olds are far better skiers than I am. Perhaps they’re helped by having lower centres of gravity or something. Whatever it is, they are soon whizzing up and down performing perfect snowplough turns while I am spending most of my lesson on my bottom in the snow and not whizzing or snowploughing anywhere.

  This is so embarrassing. I am a complete incompetent.

  Oh well, I suppose it will mean I’ll be taking lots of lessons and having more chance to chat to Tom and do some discreet questioning.

  The hour-long lesson is over mercifully quickly. I must have bruises all over my bottom half by now and the thought of a soak in the bath sounds blissful. Then I remember I have to get to talk to Tom or I will have failed my mission.

  As the rest of the group head for the ski lift with joyous shouts and an impromptu snowball fight, I shuffle along as though I have glue on the bottom of my skis. If I don’t do that then I end up losing control of them and crashing into people and yelling at others to get out of the way, unable to stop my runaway skis which have developed a mind of their own. It seems I cannot achieve a happy medium.

  I hate skiing.

  “Tom!” I call as we reach the ski lift and the kids start to pile inside the cabin. “Can I have a word please?”

  He hangs back, keeping an eye on his charges.

  “I guess I’m an even worse skier than I suspected,” I laugh.

  He doesn’t argue with me on that point so I push on. “Is there any chance of a private lesson? You know, one to one.”

  “I don’t usually do private lessons for beginners,” he replies, gesturing for me to join the kids in the lift.

  “Oh.” I position myself inside the cabin so I cannot see outside and the scary views on the way down.

  “I can recommend somebody who does though,” he says.

  Fantastic. I don’t need ski lessons. Well, I do, but that’s a whole different issue. What I need right now is the chance to chat with Tom. If ski lessons are off the cards then should I ask him for a drink?

  One of the kids comes over and starts talking skis with him. What am I going to do now?

  Back in the resort I head for Dan’s apartment. I had my phone switched off during the lesson as per Tom’s instructions to the group. Five year olds have mobile phones they need to be asked to switch off? It seems so.

  I checked my phone on the way down the mountain (good way to avoid those scary views) hoping for something from Charlie. Nothing. There was however a message from Dan suggesting we meet up at his place for a catch-up.

  Twenty minutes later I’m sitting on Dan’s sofa and trying to get comfortable despite all the recently acquired bruises.

  He hands me a coffee and then flops down next to me. I catch a whiff of his aftershave. He wears the same one as Charlie. For a moment my mind is gone. Off to America and Charlie. I wonder how he’s getting on.

  “So how did the lesson go?” Dan asks, bringing me back to the here and now.

  Can I tell him the truth? I’m going to look like a complete and utter failure.

  It seems I don’t need to actually say the words. My silence speaks volumes.

  “That bad huh?” he grimaces.

  “He put me in with a group of five year olds. All of whom were better than me.”

  Dan smiles. “Wow, sorry, that sounds a bit awkward.”

  I find myself laughing, the tension of the day easing a little. “You reckon? I asked if he would do private lessons for me but he said he doesn’t do them for beginners. How am I going to get the chance to talk to him if I have to stay in that group class?”

  “I’ll give you private lessons,” Dan says then takes a sip of his hot chocolate. “Then you’ll get moved out of beginners and hopefully have your chance to speak to him properly.”

  “That’s going to take me ages,” I protest. “There could be another way. I wondered about asking him out for a coffee.”

  “I’m sure he’d be flattered but I don’t think you going out alone with him is the best idea. He is on our suspect list after all. Let’s call that Plan B shall we?”

  “I didn’t mean on a date type going out.”

  “Of course not. I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t be very happy about that anyway.”

  I fiddle nervously with the edge of a sofa cushion. “Speaking of Charlie. What did he say to you at the airport? As we were leaving I turned back and saw the two of you talking and looking very serious.”

  Dan laughs. “Ah, yeah. Charlie was just making it known that if anything happened to you on my watch I was going to be toast.”

  I stare at him. “He threatened you?”

  “Not as such.” He rests an elbow on the back of the sofa, turning slightly to face me. “It was a friendly warning that’s all.”

  It didn’t look very friendly from what I saw. Was Charlie warning Dan off? Telling him to behave himself perhaps?

  “Anyway, I found out some stuff when I called at the chalet today. Amelia and Fran were both home. Amelia made some excuse and left me supposedly checking the structural integrity of the chalet after the fire. Fran offered to make me a coffe
e after a little while and we had a chat.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. First off, I think you’re right, that stuff in your notes I read, about smelling alcohol on her breath. I thought I did too. She seems pretty low. Depressed almost. She wasn’t keen to open up about what was wrong though. No matter how much I tried the confide in me stuff. I think she’s keeping a secret about something. Classic signs. She kept fiddling with her hair. Avoiding looking at me. Seems worried, nervous even. I’ve asked the guys at headquarters to do some more in depth background research on her. See if anything turns up.”

  “And the florists? Any luck there?”

  He shakes his head. “Not much. There are only two in town. One of them admitted they delivered the flowers but couldn’t give me much information on who placed the order. They said when they opened up the shop that morning they found an envelope pushed through the letter box. Inside was a note requesting that a specific bouquet from their online catalogue was delivered to Amelia’s chalet. There was also enough cash to cover the cost of the flowers plus delivery and a tip as well. The instructions said to deliver the flowers, place them on the doorstep, ring the doorbell and leave before anybody answered the door.”

  “Which they did.”

  He nods. “Yep. They certainly did. And we’re none the wiser on who our mystery flower-giver might be.”

  “It seems to all be dead ends today. I’ll head back to the chalet and make some phone calls.”

  “To Charlie? How are things going out in the States?”

  “They’re fine,” I bluster, staring at my hands. I can’t admit to Dan that Charlie still hasn’t been in touch other than his one text. I’m beginning to worry something might be wrong but I don’t want to come across as the needy girlfriend to one of Charlie’s colleagues.