Precious
An Amber Reed Mystery
By Zanna Mackenzie
Precious © 2014 Zanna Mackenzie
The moral rights of the author have been asserted. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All plots, incidents, characters, locations, organisations, names etc. are fictitious, created from the author’s imagination and any resemblance to real persons, incidents, locations, organisations, names is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be stored, shared, copied, transmitted or reproduced in any way without express written permission from the author.
PRECIOUS
"Addictive new series, approach only if you are willing to read into the early hours of the morning!!!"
Chicks That Read
'Humorous romantic cozy mystery in the world of the rich and famous'
Who would want to murder pop star Flynn Garrison?
That’s exactly what Amber Reed needs to find out. As the lowly support officer and newest recruit at the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency’s (CCIA), she has a lot to prove. She’s desperate to get to grips with her first assignment and show that she’s up to the job with the elite agency who specialize in solving crimes for the rich and famous, but there’s a lot at stake… and it’s not only her new career that’s on the line.
Is mixing business and pleasure ever a good idea? Will her relationship with CCIA special agent Charlie survive the challenge of the two of them working together? And then there’s the added complication of agent extraordinaire Martha, a man-eating goddess, also assigned to this investigation, who clearly has designs on Charlie.
Working on the case leads Amber to a glamorous red carpet film premiere, learning to dance at a party in a grand country house - and the distinct possibility of becoming the murderer’s next victim.
Can Amber manage to catch the killer, solve the case, stay alive and still keep her relationship with Charlie on track?
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Chapter One
“So is this your first time?”
I nod and turn away, feeling decidedly queasy.
“It could be worse,” the man continues. “My first time, there was blood everywhere and…”
“OK thanks I’ll sort things from here, Constable McKenna,” Charlie says, strolling over and interrupting the local policeman before things get too gory.
Charlie slips a hand into mine and leads me away from all the commotion and, much to my relief, away from the dead body. The wind is whipping up white tops on the waves as we walk slowly along the stretch of pristine pale sand. Who knew beaches in the wild and isolated islands of the Scottish Outer Hebrides looked like this? We could be on a beach in the Caribbean if it wasn’t for a bitingly cold wind and the miles of moorland and desolate nothingness which surround us.
But we aren’t. We’re on the island of Farra because Flynn Garrison, the former pop star who made women around the world drool over his gorgeousness, who quit at the height of fame to become a scientist and TV presenter, has been found dead, washed up on this very beach.
Just over six months ago I started my employment at the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency - otherwise known as the CCIA - where Charlie works. I finished my support officer training last week and this is my first assignment. It looks as though I’m not prepared – emotionally or mentally – for coming face to face with a dead body yet though. Are you ever?
“You OK?” Charlie asks, turning to face me.
I nod but stare out to sea. The sea which has just washed up a dead man.
“No you’re not.” He pulls me into a hug and much as I need a cuddle right now I feel a flicker of embarrassment and awkwardness. Are the other guys on the beach – the police, some medical people and a few locals having a nose at what’s going on – all laughing at me right now? Laughing at the agency officer sent to help investigate a death when she can’t even cope with seeing the victim. The woman who needs to go off and have a cry while getting a cuddle from her fellow CCIA agent and – though they don’t know this – also her boyfriend.
“It’s perfectly normal,” he continues, as he strokes hair out of my eyes. “I’d love to be able to say it gets easier with time but the truth is it doesn’t. It does help a little if you try to focus on the fact we’re here to work out what happened to him and, if it is murder, then find out who did this and get them locked up.”
I bury my face in Charlie’s jacket and sniffle, fighting back the tears. He says nothing, just holds me.
What seems like an eternity later a voice says, “Er, excuse me, sorry to interrupt but…”
We turn to see one of the medics looking at us. I hastily wipe my eyes with the back of my sleeves and try to put a capable and professional expression on my face.
The woman looks at me. “Are you all right, sweetie?” she asks in a strong Scottish accent. “Did you know the man?”
“No.” I sniff and try to get a grip of my whirl of emotions. “I’m the support officer on the case. I work for the agency, CCIA.”
“Oh, right, sorry, I…”
Charlie chips in to explain. “First case, first time seeing a dead body.”
The woman gives me a sympathetic smile. “Ahhh, I see. Sorry.”
“So, any ideas what happened to him?” Charlie asks with a nod towards the screened off area where our victim is.
“It looks as though he could well have been strangled,” she says. “Then he fell or was put in the water somewhere. Could have been inland, edge of a tidal river or something and the body was washed to sea at high tide. The local police will look into tidal patterns and then we’ll have a better idea. I definitely don’t think we’re looking at an accident or suicide here though.”
“Pretty much as we expected then.” Charlie shoves a hand into the pocket of his jeans. “Thanks for letting us know.”
“We’ll remove the body and carry out some proper tests back at the medical centre. I have your mobile phone number, Mr Huxton. I’ll be in touch as soon as I have any further news.”
“Thanks,” Charlie nods. “And please, it’s Charlie, not Mr Huxton.” He turns to me and adds, “And this is Amber.”
“OK then, Charlie and Amber it is. If we’re on first name terms then I’m Gwyn.” The woman leans forward and places a hand on my arm. “Why don’t you head back to wherever you’re staying, sweetie and get a nice soothing cup of tea and take it easy for a little while eh? It’s always a bit of shock, you know, seeing the victim. If you want I can give you a sleeping tablet or something to calm your nerves?”
I shake my head. “Thanks but I’ll be OK.”
Gwyn nods. “Fine but if you do need me for anything just ring.”
Charlie wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Thanks, we will.”
“Let’s go back to the bed and breakfast for a while. I want to call a few people and there’s some stuff we need to look up on the Internet as well,” Charlie says. “Might be best to see if we can rent a cottage too, it looks as though we could be here longer than originally expected.”
We make our way up the beach towards the hire car and I look away as the screens are removed and the body, now covered, is taken to the waiting ambulance.
“Do you th
ink he suffered?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper. Why am I asking the question? Whatever answer I get from Charlie won’t change what has happened here or the way I feel.
“I don’t think so. It would probably have been fairly quick,” he answers. I’m not sure if it’s the truth or whether he’s just trying to placate me.
I stop and look at him. There’s concern in his eyes. Whether it’s just for my mental and emotional health or also about my ability to do this job I’m not sure. Charlie is the reason I’m here; the reason I work for the CCIA. If I get this wrong, if I’m not up to doing this job, it will reflect badly on him.
We reach the car and climb inside. I pull on my seatbelt, glad to be out of the fierce wind. “Right now, I just need to get back to our room and you can make me a strong cup of coffee.”
Charlie pulls the car away from the beach and sets off along the single track road, back towards our village B&B. “You’ve got it,” he says, flicking on the windscreen wipers as it starts to rain and then resting a hand on my thigh. “I’ll even let you finish the choc chip cookies.”
By the time we’ve reached the B&B the rain is torrential. The weather around here changes in a millisecond. We grab our coats and make a dash from car to building. The B&B is in a grey and unattractive property. From what I’ve seen most buildings around here are built for practicality and to withstand the ferocious gales and storms – aesthetics clearly aren’t a priority.
“Ah, good, you’re back.” Bethan, the woman who owns the B&B, says as we dash into the entrance hall, dripping rain all over the carpet. She’s standing behind the little reception desk and next to her is a stunningly attractive woman in jeans and a close-fitting jumper, a suitcase at her feet. “I was just talking to Martha here about how you were both down at the beach with the murder victim.”
Strange – does she usually welcome guests by telling them about bodies washing up on the local beach?
“It hasn’t been confirmed as murder,” Charlie says, following me inside, head down as he pulls off his wet coat. “Not officially.”
The beautiful woman steps forward, ignores me and envelopes Charlie in a hug, catching him off guard. “Charlie!” she squeals excitedly. “It’s ages since we’ve worked together. So good to see you again!”
Did she just say “work together”?
I watch as Charlie hugs her back, meeting my questioning gaze over her shoulder.
“Martha, what are you doing here?” he asks once she’s eventually disentangled herself from him.
“The agency sent me to help you out with this case.” Martha casts a dismissive look in my direction. “They wanted their best agents working up here. So,” she shrugs her shoulders in a here-I-am way, “they sent me to work with you. I understand this is Amber’s first case and we don’t want her getting all overwhelmed on an important job like this do we?” She giggles and pushes a hand through her long honey-coloured hair.
“This might be Amber’s first case but she’s more than capable…” Charlie starts to reply and I step forward, interrupting.
“I’m glad you’re here, Martha,” I say, while thinking the agency don’t trust me. They don’t think I’m capable of doing this.
Do I think I’m capable of doing this?
They’ve sent Miss Beautiful CCIA Agent to work with Charlie. I’ll probably be relegated to fetching her cups of coffee and typing up her paperwork.
“Anyway,” Miss Beautiful continues, “the boss wants a thorough investigation and expects us to be on this godforsaken island for a while so I’m told the guys back at base have arranged a rental cottage for us all to share. If you want to get packed and meet me back down here then I’ll lead the way to our new home. Ten minutes OK?”
Fantastic.
Not only do my new employers not trust me to do my job, they send another agent, a very beautiful one with a superior attitude, to work with Charlie and me on this case.
Oh, and we all get to share a rental cottage together as well.
I was so wrong when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse…
Chapter Two
“Don’t put that in here,” I say as I reach for my suitcase which Charlie has just dumped on the double bed next to his own holdall. The cottage which the guys at the CCIA have booked for us has three bedrooms. It too has the grey utilitarian look on the outside but thankfully inside it’s modern, bright and cosy. Miss Beautiful CCIA is currently singing as she unpacks in one of the bedrooms. I, however, am scowling as I haul my case from the bed back to the floor.
Charlie raises an eyebrow as he slumps on the bed and reaches for my hand. “Why not? Why are you moving your case?”
I lower my voice to a whisper. “I think I should sleep in the other room.”
“Fed up with me already?” he asks with a cheeky grin.
As if.
“It doesn’t feel right us sharing a bed,” I reply inclining my head towards the wall and the bedroom where Martha is settling in. “Not with her in the cottage with us.”
“Don’t be daft.” Charlie looks mystified. “What difference does that make?”
For an intelligent investigative agent sometimes he can be quite dense. “Because…” I hiss. “She clearly already thinks I’m not up to doing my job. If she knows we’re involved then she’ll think that’s the only reason I’m here, because I’m sleeping with you, and then she’ll think even less of me.”
“You have an overactive imagination.” He shakes his head. “And anyway, I would think she already knows we’re dating. Everyone at the CCIA probably does. When I recommended you as a possible new support officer I had to declare that we were involved on the forms. Normal procedure.”
I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. “Everyone knows?”
He nods. “I’m sure she won’t mind. What we do in our own time and our own private space is up to us and has nothing whatsoever to do with this investigation and the agency.” He reaches for my hand again but I plant my feet firmly on the floor and resist even though, at this particular moment, I would love nothing more than to climb onto the bed with Charlie for a cuddle.
“It just doesn’t seem, well, you know, professional.” I shrug. “I’ll move to the other room.”
He stops slouching on the bed and sits up. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.” He looks well and truly fed up now so I add, “I can always sneak into your room in the middle of the night for a quick cuddle.”
He shakes his head.
“No?”
“Nope,” he replies, feigning indignation. “No chance. It’s all or nothing. If you’re not staying the night with me then you’re not nipping in here for a quickie before skulking back to your own room under the cover of darkness. Those are the rules.”
“Rules?” I try my best seductive smile on him. “Since when were you one for following the rules?”
He shrugs. “It’s different if I’m the one making the rules.”
I lean down to kiss him on the lips. “You’ll change your mind soon enough,” I say as I pull my suitcase towards the door.
He gets to his feet and starts unpacking his own bag. “Nope, I won’t,” he says with a wink. “It’s all or nothing. Remember that.”
“So you’ve worked with Martha before,” I say, stopping in the doorway. My case, with its dodgy wheels, decides not to stop at the same time as I do and promptly whacks me across the ankles. I wince at the pain.
“Yeah, a couple of times.” Charlie is doing his version of unpacking – grabbing random handfuls of clothes from his holdall and flinging assorted items into drawers without even looking at them. It’s one of many traits Charlie and I share – untidiness. We’re both also stubborn and can be incredibly nosy.
“She seemed very pleased to see you.” I stand on my right leg and surreptitiously rub the other foot up and down the back of my still painful ankle.
Charlie gives me a warning look. “We were never involved,” he says, clearly cutting off my
line of questioning before I can get into my stride.
“Just friends then eh?”
“Not even that really,” he replies, opening the wardrobe door and chucking the now empty holdall inside. “Just work colleagues.”
“Right.” I nod. “Well, I’m off to unpack.”
I take a leaf out of Charlie’s book and fling my clothes into various drawers and wardrobes, feeling miffed about Martha being here and about everyone at the CCIA knowing that Charlie and I are involved. Charlie’s the reason I’m working for the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency because we met when he came to investigate the death of Joel McKarthy in the village of Palstone where I live.
Joel was the brother of an old friend and former boyfriend of mine – Ennis McKarthy. Ennis is a famous actor these days but when I knew him he was just Ennis, a great guy with a passion to one day be an actor. Ennis fiercely guards his privacy and wanted to make sure Charlie wasn’t going to sell the story to the media hounds, so he begged me to shadow him throughout the top secret investigation into Joel’s death. Charlie, much to my shock, agreed to the arrangement and we discovered we worked well together and ended up collaborating on the case. Actually, in the interests of full disclosure, we ended up doing far more than that, but that’s a whole other story!
When the case was solved Charlie and I got involved and, well, he thought my investigative skills (i.e. stubborn nosiness) would make me a great support officer for the CCIA, so he recommended me and… well, here we are.
I used to be a part-time barmaid and part-time newspaper administrator back in Palstone, Derbyshire. My duties at the paper also used to include making up the horoscopes under the name of Madam Zamber.
Now here I am, after six months intensive training, working on my first official case for the agency, with Charlie as my supervising officer, and me not dealing very well with seeing the dead victim. I feel as though I have a lot to prove. Doesn’t everyone when they start a new job? In this case though, because of the way Charlie recommended me to the agency, I feel I have even more to prove. I don’t want to be the woman who got her job because of who she’s dating.
Precious: A Humorous Romantic Cozy Mystery (Amber Reed Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency Mystery Book 2) Page 1
