“Now what?” Martha asks, pushing her laptop away from her. “We have all these bits but they’re not coming together, are they? The stuff about Cate’s stepbrother and the boat and smuggling has screeched to a dead end. Ditto regarding the forging designer clothes and jewels angle. And now we don’t know if Cate’s baby is in some way connected to the other stuff.”
“That could be the thing Frank was bribing his stepsister with to get her cooperation with the sneaking clothes and jewellery off the set of North Shores,” I ponder. “She wanted to keep the news that she’d had a baby years ago out of the papers when she became famous, then Frank could have been blackmailing her with that.”
“Yeah,” Dan says, moving to stand next to me, far closer than a person would usually stand next to a work colleague. “I’ve checked and none of the gossip rags have carried stories about Cate’s baby, so that could be what’s going on.”
“But what about Denver and Lindy? They must be in on it as well to have sent us to that Ponytail Guy, supposedly to get the pieces authenticated,” I say. “And there was that conversation I overheard between them at the party.”
Charlie flops onto a sofa and rubs at his eyes. His phone rings again. He checks it and swears under his breath. As he leaves the room we just catch him answering the phone and saying, “Yes, sir, how can I help?”
“Ooohhh,” Martha says. “If Charlie is calling somebody sir that means the call he just took is from the big bad agency boss. I guess he’s getting on Charlie’s case because this investigation is going nowhere and isn’t all done and dusted yet.”
Leaping to his defence, I reply, “But that’s not fair. We’ve only been here a few days and there’s so much digging to do, especially with three victims to check through their lives and friends and all the financial stuff.”
“The boss doesn’t do fair,” Dan says with a shake of his head. “We’re all going to get it in the neck if we fail on this job, but as Charlie Boy’s in charge, well, he’s first in the firing line.”
I stare at the closed door and strain to hear Charlie’s voice outside in the corridor. “Guys, we’ve got to help him.”
Dan and Martha raise eyebrows at each other. “Things back on between you two?” Martha asks.
“No,” I reply disconsolately. “But we’re working on it.”
The door bursts open and Charlie storms back in, muttering under his breath and rubbing irritably at the back of his neck this time.
“Is everything all right?” I venture.
“Not unless you’ve all cracked this case while I was on the phone getting my ears chewed off for not coming up with the desired results for agency HQ.”
“Sorry, mate,” Dan says. “We haven’t managed to fit all the pieces together in the five minutes you were out of the room.”
Dan’s being nice to Charlie? Well, kind of nice. Things must be bad.
“We’re trying, Charlie, you know we are,” Martha says, starting work on the computer again, striking the keys far more forcibly than required.
We all sit in silence – well, silence except for Martha battering away at her laptop.
“I need some fresh air,” Charlie announces and leaves the room.
Martha pauses in her computer research. “I’ve honestly never seen him like this before. It’s almost as though he’s about to give up.”
“No way,” I say. “Charlie’s too stubborn for that. I might just go and see if he wants some company. I’ve got a headache coming on and could do with some fresh air myself.”
On my way outside, I spot Charlie running across the lobby towards the underground car park. Hmm. Strange place to go for fresh air. I speed up and am just in time to see him getting into one of the hired SUVs. Where is he going? Without thinking, I step out into the exit lane as he switches on the car’s lights and heads right towards me. The vehicle screeches to a halt, the squeal of the brakes echoing through the parking structure. Getting out he yells, “What the hell are you doing? It’s a bloody good job I was concentrating and spotted you!”
“Wherever you’re going, I’m coming with you,” I say as I dodge past him and jog towards the passenger side door.
“No, you’re not,” he protests. “It’s not safe. Go back inside, Amber, and help the others.”
“No,” I reply. “You can’t make me and, oh, let me think, wouldn’t stopping me from going with you come under the category of holding me back work-wise and being over protective? Wasn’t that what Dan accused you of before? Of stifling me? And anyway, we’re a team. All of us, you and me and Dan and Martha and Jack. It’s not just your neck on the line with this investigation.”
Charlie sighs, shakes his head and swears under his breath. I think I hear Dan’s name mentioned but don’t listen too closely. “OK. Get in.”
I slot my seatbelt into position as we roar out of the parking garage. “Where are we going?” I ask.
“A spot of surveillance on the warehouse near the docks where Mr. Ponytail works.” He checks for traffic then pulls the SUV onto one of the main roads across the city. “But, I can tell you now, you’re going to hate this. Surveillance is boring and we might need to stay there all night, which means you’ll end up falling asleep. You know you can’t pull all-nighters. You’re rubbish at staying awake much past midnight.”
I smile into the darkness of the car’s interior. He’s having a bit of a rant because he knows I won about the stifling and over protective jibe of Dan’s. Plus, I like the way he’s remembering quirky things about me. It reminds me of how it used to be between us.
When we reach Ponytail’s building, Charlie finds a suitable slot to park the SUV, which hides us a bit but still affords us a decent view of the front of the mystery business. Switching off the engine, the silence closes around us. We stare at the warehouse.
“Do you think they’ll come down here tonight? Maybe Frank being spooked by our earlier visit will prompt them to take action and move stuff earlier than planned.”
“Maybe. The police couldn’t detain him on anything so he’s still out there somewhere doing God knows what.” Charlie taps his fingers against the steering wheel. A nervous habit I’ve spotted him doing a lot lately. Does he only do it when I’m in the car with him I wonder?
“Have you heard anything from Jack?” I ask, just to make conversation.
“Yeah, it sounds as though the Toronto and Acting Up Production Company and City Wives angle is turning up nothing. We’re running out of ideas here.”
We sit in silence for what seems like hours, but when I check, we’ve only been here for fifty minutes. Sitting in the dark like this could be a good opportunity to try to continue our stilted conversation from earlier in the café in Stanley Park. “So,” I start tentatively. “We both admit to not being model partners in our relationship. I’m stubborn and jealous, lack self-esteem when it comes to guys and find it difficult to trust.”
He doesn’t say anything, so I plough on grimly. “And you’re stubborn and work-focused and sometimes thoughtless and…” I pause, then decide I need to say the words, “and you never tell me how you feel. I mean, emotionally-speaking. Yeah, we talk about when we’re mad or irritated and the like, but not, you know, the good stuff.”
More silence.
“When I said I loved…” My attempts to explain how I’d like Charlie to be more open emotionally are stopped by a black minivan pulling onto the forecourt outside the warehouse. Charlie moves his hand from the steering wheel to my knee but he doesn’t need to do that to warn me to pipe down and concentrate on the occupants of the van. I know how these things work by now. The side door of the vehicle opens and Mr. Ponytail gets out. There’s a gun in his hand. I catch my breath. He’s closely followed by Frank and then a woman, her hands tied behind her back and what looks like tape across her mouth.
“Charlie,” I whisper-hiss.
He squeezes my knee, eyes staring out of the windshield of the SUV. The woman stumbles and they haul her to her feet. “Tha
t’s Lindy!” I whisper-hiss again, my hand clamping down on top of Charlie’s.
The men hustle Lindy inside the building and I turn to see Charlie reaching for his gun. “Charlie, don’t even think about it!” I warn him. “You can’t go in there!”
“Call the city police, you’ve got the contact number for this case on your phone. Dave Metcalf, that’s the person to speak to, he knows what we’re doing. He’s our liaison at city PD.”
“Charlie!” I fumble for my phone, and as I do so he forces something cold and metallic into my hand. A gun. In an instant I have a flashback to my previous case in France. A crazy fortune teller woman freaked me out when she told me I worked with a man who would put himself in even greater danger than usual. She said she pictured a man handing me a gun. When I’d asked if he would be all right, she’d clammed up and not given me a proper answer. Now, all my senses snap onto full alert. I’m struggling to breathe and feel sick. This cannot be coming true. What she said was all made up, wasn’t it? I won’t let it happen. I can’t lose Charlie. OK, we’re not exactly together right now, but I still love him.
“Take the gun, Amber,” Charlie says, shoving it onto my lap.
I stare at it, blinking rapidly, my hands clammy. “I can’t use a gun.”
“Yes, you can use this one, it’s just a Taser,” he insists. “You did Taser use training with the agency. You’ll be fine.”
In France Dan had told me pretty much the same thing when he’d handed me his spare gun as we were trying to catch a movie-star stalker on a mountain top. When we’d got out of that situation safely, I’d hoped that was an end to the fortune teller’s possible premonition. It seems not… but does a Taser gun count?
“Charlie…” I start.
“The keys are in the ignition. Give me five minutes, if I’m not back, get out of here. Don’t come back. Just go to the apartment. Let the police handle things at this end. Promise me, Amber.” His voice is a mix of calm special agent trained for instances just such as this, with, I suspect, anxiety about my safety. “Promise me!” he insists.
I nod, still struggling to speak. He opens the door and steps out into the night. A blast of cold air makes me grab at his arm again, trying to pull him back. “Charlie, don’t, please. It’s too dangerous. They’ve got guns!”
“So have I,” he replies without so much as a flicker of fear in his eyes. He lives for this job. For the challenge and excitement, and for catching the villains.
“But there’s two of them and...” I try to scramble across the seat to follow him. “Let me come with you.”
“No!” he snaps. “Stay here, and that’s an order, as your boss at the agency. Stay here, otherwise you’ll end up on disciplinary back at HQ.”
“Stay here with me then,” I try to reason. “The police will be here before we know it and then you can go in after them.”
“And in the meantime we sit out here while Lindy gets shot? No way.”
My nails are clawing at his arm. “Charlie, please!”
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out those three words I’ve said to him before but have never heard back from him. “I love you!”
He pauses for a second and gently lifts my hand to his lips.
“I love you too, Amber, but you have to stay in this car.”
And with that he’s gone, disappearing into the night. He said he loved me. He actually said he loved me. How long have I waited to hear him say those words? I glance around, straining for a sight of him, but there isn’t one. He’s gone, off to save Lindy, to do his job. Much as I’d like to savour his words and hug myself with happiness, now is so not the right time. Right now, I have a job to do, too.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Right. Focus. Stay calm. Charlie said to call the police but instead I decide to call Dan for advice. He answers on the first ring.
“Yep, what’s up, Amber. Where are you? You and Charlie have been gone ages.”
I tell him where I am and what is happening.
“Hold tight. We’ll be there in ten minutes,” he says, and I can hear him grab keys and run for the door, in the background Martha’s asking him what’s going on.
“Should I call the police?” I ask, my eyes trained on the door of the building, hoping to see Charlie reappear, safe and sound, at any moment.
“No,” Dan tells me. “Don’t do anything. Just stay in the car, with the doors locked.”
“Charlie said I should leave if he isn’t back in five minutes, but I can’t…”
“No,” Dan repeats firmly. “It’ll just attract attention to you. Stay in the car and out of sight. We’re on our way.”
It seems like an eternity before my phone beeps and I see a message from Martha telling me that they have arrived and are parked further down the street. They’ll proceed on foot from here. I reply that I want to go with them but Martha pulls rank, reminding me that she and Dan are trained and qualified agents and that I am just the support officer, not qualified to handle situations such as this. I stay in the car and think I spot first one movement in the shadows and then another, but I don’t know if it’s my eyes and mind playing tricks on me or if the shapes in the darkness I spotted were Dan and Martha making their way round to the side of the warehouse.
Can I stay here and leave it to them to get Charlie out safely? My hand moves towards the door handle. I’m not a fan of being told what to do. A part of me thinks the circumstances warrant me breaking my promise to Charlie and disobeying his orders. Will my going in to the warehouse jeopardise this investigation and potentially put all of us in even greater danger though? It could well do. Even so, I find my hand opening the door and I step out on trembling legs into the cool night air. There has been no sound from the warehouse at all. Is that a good or a bad sign? I don’t know. I crouch low, somehow thinking straight enough to remember to hide behind cars, bushes, anything else suitable I can find. As I near the entrance to the warehouse the door flies open and my heart jumps into my mouth. Is it the guys with Lindy? What’s happening? Is it Charlie and Dan and Martha? I relax just a fraction and start breathing again as I see Dan and Martha. I’m unsure whether to rush over to them or stay hidden where I am. I peer at the warehouse doorway but there’s no sign of Charlie. A horrifying thought knocks me back. No. Please no.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“You can come out, Amber,” Martha says into the night.
I step out from behind a car. “Where’s Charlie?” I demand.
“Gone,” Dan replies solemnly.
I can’t breathe, think or speak, and my knees are feeling like they might start to crumble beneath me.
“He doesn’t mean gone, as in gone,” Martha says, shooting Dan an angry look. “We mean there was nobody inside the warehouse. No sign of anybody at all. If you’ve been sat outside the front since Charlie went inside, then everyone must have left through another door.”
“The question is,” Dan continues. “Did Charlie follow them or was he taken by them?”
“We need to find him,” I say, fighting to keep the panic out of my voice.
Martha appears at my side. “Don’t worry, we will.”
“Charlie’s more than capable of looking after himself,” Dan chips in.
Usually he is, yes, but lately he’s been distracted and not his normal self. He’ll be fine, I tell myself firmly. Everything will be fine.
We have everybody looking for Charlie. We tried to locate him via his phone. All special agents with the CCIA have a tracking device activated on their phones when they are on assignment. Of course, things were never going to be that easy, were they? It turned out his phone had been switched off – or tossed somewhere and broken. So, we’re having to find him without the aid of GPS technology. Now, even Dan is out scouring the city. Martha insisted I came back to the apartment with her. She’s coordinating things, and said she needed my help. A part of me would rather be more active, but this is my role and I’ll support Martha in the search in any way possible. The priority
is finding Charlie.
The apartment door bursts open and Dan walks in. I rush to his side and grab his arm. “Have you found him?”
Dan shakes his head. “Not yet, but we will.” He reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. Hastily, I pull away. I can’t face him being nice to me right now. I’ll just get emotional, and I need to hold myself together and focus on this search.
“Why are you back here then?” Martha demands, glaring at Dan.
“The police are regrouping, and I thought I’d grab ten minutes back here so we can update each other and check on things.”
“You mean you wanted to check how Amber is doing,” she snaps.
“Hey!” Dan starts to protest.
I rest a restraining hand on his arm. “Leave it, Dan. We’re all a bit tense and worried at the moment.”
He looks at me and then at Martha. “OK, fair point.”
Dan’s phone rings and he answers it, avoiding looking at me as he steps outside the apartment to take the call. With a sickening jolt it registers he’s doing that in case it’s bad news he’s about to hear.
“It’s going to be OK. Before you know it, Charlie will be back here, regaling us with stories of his big rescue of Lindy and bossing us all around again,” Martha attempts to soothe.
I pray she’s right.
“Have the police tried the area around the warehouse where Charlie disappeared?” I ask.
She nods. “They’ve tried everywhere we could think of but we won’t give up looking for them.”
“Frank’s boat!” I say, aware of the desperation in my voice. “Have they looked there?”
Martha nods again. “It was moored in the harbour, nobody on board.”
We sit in silence and then both turn questioning eyes on Dan as soon as he re-enters the room.
“The police have received reports of a disturbance on a boat just off the cargo area of the docks. They’ve contacted the coastguard.”
I’m instantly on my feet. “What’s the name of the boat? Did they say? Do they know?”
Past Perfect: A Fun and Flirty Romantic Mystery (Amber Reed Mystery Book 4) Page 15