Precious: A Humorous Romantic Cozy Mystery (Amber Reed Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency Mystery Book 2)

by Zanna Mackenzie

  “Don’t you all look stunning?” Rhona says as she sweeps down the steps at the grand entrance. She’s wearing a midnight blue dress with a tartan sash, her hair clipped up in an elegant style and her eyes shining with excitement. An impressive necklace of blue and white stones finishes the outfit to perfection.

  “Wow, you look stunning,” I say to her. “And that necklace looks a million dollars.”

  Rhona gently fingers the necklace. “Thank you. It’s my favourite piece of jewellery.” She leans closer and lowers her voice to a whisper. “It’s fake I’m afraid but I love it. It’s based on a real piece of jewellery made from stones found on Scottish islands, including Farra. Now, come along inside and help yourselves to a drink. The first dance will be starting soon. Don’t look quite so worried. We’ll pair you all off with experienced locals and they’ll keep you on the right track with the music and the steps. You’ll be fine.”

  Down the hallway we follow the crowds of people into a room which is lined with shelves of books. There’s a grand and rather formal air to what is clearly the house’s library. The room is huge and it is also packed with people.

  “This doubles as the ballroom,” Rhona explains, appearing at our elbow. “It’s a bit of a squeeze for evenings like this when all of the islanders come along but the party generally spills out into other rooms and, if it isn’t raining, then on to the terrace outside as well. Now, I’ll go and round up some dance partners for each of you.”

  “No need to worry about me,” Charlie hurriedly says. “I’m only here to work.”

  Rhona slaps him playfully on the arm. “Don’t talk nonsense. You’ll dance. You have to at a Big House ceilidh, it’s compulsory. And,” she taps the side of her nose conspiratorially, “I have the ideal partner in mind for you. I’ll go and fetch her.”

  Charlie downs a drink in one. “Wonderful. Just wonderful,” he mutters, and he isn’t talking about the Champagne either.

  “Just relax and have some fun,” Martha chimes in, taking tiny tips of her own champagne.

  I notice her eyes are scanning the room and I wonder if it’s because she’s being vigilant about work and the case, seeing what she can spot, who she can talk to or whether it’s because she’s checking out the local talent. Across the other side of the room Theresa and Harry wave at me as they whirl around the dance floor and I wave back, delighted to see them both.

  Rhona pushes her way back through the crowd, followed by three people. “Here we are,” she sings. “Three talented locals who have agreed to teach you the steps to the first dance this evening which will be the Frisky.”

  Martha almost chokes on her drink. “The what?” she giggles. “Did you say frisky?”

  “I did indeed,” Rhona replies.

  “You have to watch remote islands like this you know,” Martha whispers as she nudges me. “They get up to all sorts.”

  “This is Ewan,” Rhona says, pushing forward a man in his fifties with a ginger beard and a wicked gleam in his eyes. “And this is Jonah.” A handsome man, probably in his late twenties, nods a hello to us all at the sound of his name.

  “Don’t fancy yours much,” Martha whispers at me as she steps past and links arms with Jonah. In a second she’s whisked him away and is listening intently as he starts to show her some of the Frisky’s steps ahead of the music starting up.

  “And this,” Rhona continues, “is Ailsa.”

  I try to stop my mouth dropping open at the sight of Charlie’s dance partner. A stunning redhead in her twenties she’s dressed in a green silk ruched bodice top teamed with a black and green tartan skirt. The same tartan as Charlie’s. It must be the tartan fabric for a local clan.

  “Hi, Charlie,” Ailsa says with a shy smile. “Shall we go and practice a few of the key steps before we start the main dance?”

  Charlie reluctantly nods and follows her onto the dance floor where Martha is currently being whirled around at breakneck speed by Jonah.

  “Shall we?” Ewan asks, offering out an arm for me to slip a hand through.

  Nervously I nod. Tonight is going to be quite an experience.

  Rhona places a hand on my arm. “And Rory asked if you would share a dance with him later in the evening?”

  “Of course, that would be lovely.” I can just about make out Rory on the other side of the room surrounded by eligible females of various ages. The Laird of Farra is obviously quite popular with the ladies.

  An hour later the music and dancing has been nonstop and I’m exhausted mentally from trying to remember the steps to each of the various dance sequences and physically from all that high energy reeling. Making my excuses to Ewan, who has been a delightful partner, I head for the now-open doors onto the terrace. I need some fresh air and a sit down.

  To my relief everyone else is inside doing the next dance - called Jennifer’s Jig I think by the guy making all the announcements for the dances. I lean back against the smooth stone of a pillar and savour the cool feeling which seeps through my body.

  “You OK?”

  I turn to see Charlie standing in the doorway.

  “Yeah, just needed some air.”

  “Know what you mean.” He moves to stand next to me. “It is pretty hot in there. Not to mention noisy and crowded.”

  “So how’s your first Scottish country dance lesson been? Getting on OK with Ailsa?”

  Charlie smiles. “She’s a miracle worker. She even managed to get me through one dance without me tripping people up, barging into them or completely ruining the sequence of swapping from one dance partner to the next. Apparently she teaches traditional Scottish dancing to the kids at the local school. Deserves a medal for getting me through tonight so far I reckon.”

  “You’re seriously that bad a dancer?” Charlie and I have never been dancing – of any kind – before. And we haven’t had chance to share a single dance so far tonight either.

  He nods. “I’m seriously that bad a dancer.”

  “Martha seems to be having fun dancing with Jonah though. That should distract her from you for a while.” My mouth has an unfortunate tendency to speak before my brain can stop it. I wish I could take back the words even more when I see the frown on Charlie’s face.

  We stand in silence and I feel a little frisson of awkwardness bubbling between us. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned Martha and been catty about her. I don’t know what’s got into me lately. OK, I’ve have some ex-boyfriends who have messed me around and one in particular who broke my heart when he cheated on me with his ex but it’s not fair to keep dragging the past into the present and hassling Charlie with my insecurities.

  “I thought we’d sorted this out,” Charlie says.

  I slowly shake my head. “I just struggle to believe you’re content, you know, with me. Just me.”

  “Why? And why the issue with Martha in particular?” he persists.

  “She’s smart, pretty, good at her job.” I shrug in a need-I-say-more kind of way.

  “So are you,” he answers in a matter of fact tone.

  “But…” I start to argue.

  He holds up a hand to silence me. “Amber, I wish you’d have more confidence in yourself and your abilities. It’s your first official CCIA case and I know you want to impress everyone. To prove you’re up to the job. OK, that’s perfectly normal. In a way I understand this thing about you wanting to sleep in the other room at the rental cottage as well. You want to be professional around Martha. Fine. I totally get that.”

  “But you really need to get your head around why you’re here. It’s not because I recommended you and we happen to be dating. It’s because you’re good at this type of work.” He pushes a hand through his hair looking a little exasperated with me. “Yes, you’re still learning but everyone has to go through that stage when they start a new job. But you’ve got natural instinct for this type of work. You think outside the box. You don’t give up until you get the answers you need. You’re stubborn and nosy. People find you easy to talk
to. You’re good at chatting with them and getting them to reveal stuff about cases.”

  I feel tears prickling dangerously close to the corners of my eyes so I stare at my shoes. He’s saying such nice things about me. Despite me going on about him and Martha and my trust issues like some cracked record.

  “After the Joel case when we unofficially worked together I’d still have done the same thing, whether we were involved or not. You know that right? I’d have suggested you apply to the agency, recommended you, regardless,” he continues. “I didn’t do it just because I fancied you and wanted to get you into bed.”

  Briefly a smile flickers on my lips at the memory of the first night Charlie and I slept together. “I know you didn’t do it for that reason. You’d already got me into bed before you suggested I apply to work for the agency.”

  “Oh, yeah, so I had,” he says, looking pleased with himself. “Anyway, you need to believe why you’re here doing this job and you also need to believe why I’m with you. You’re smart, sexy. You’re fun to be around.”

  I say nothing, unsure of the right words.

  “Well, usually you’re fun to be around,” he adds and nudges my arm playfully. “Have some confidence in yourself OK?”

  I nod. Still not trusting myself to speak. I don’t want to go all girly and start crying.

  “Good. Now, can we stop with the heavy stuff and have some of the aforementioned fun instead?”

  He’s right. I step towards him. Time to lighten up. “You know what I’ve been wondering all evening?”

  “What?” He leans back a little and eyes me wearily.

  “Are you being a true Scotsman and wearing nothing underneath your kilt?”

  A deliciously cheeky smile flickers on his lips. Lips that I know I want to kiss. “Want to find out? Maybe that’s something you should get on with investigating right now,” he replies.

  My hand snakes up from his knee towards his thigh. “See there are some advantages to wearing a kilt,” I say. “Such as easy access.”

  “That’s the only one though as far as I can make out. It’s too draughty and this feeling of fresh air and fabric moving around your legs, it’s all a bit unnerving. I feel a bit vulnerable to be honest.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “The great Charlie Huxton feeling vulnerable? Not possible.”

  “It’s possible,” he replies softly. “In more ways than you’d ever believe.”

  “Oh?” Are we still talking about him feeling vulnerable for wearing a kilt and getting a draught in private places or is he about to reveal some emotional vulnerability?

  “Come on let’s get out of here,” he says, slipping an arm around my shoulders and instantly lightening the mood. “We’d better tell Martha we’re leaving first though.”

  Martha is still on the dance floor and still in the enthusiastic hands of Jonah who is looking as though all his Christmases have come at once. We wait as an energetic jig comes to an end then make our way over towards them.

  Charlie taps her on the shoulder. “We’re leaving.”

  She frowns. “Already? But I’ve agreed to dance with a few other guys yet.”

  He shakes his head. “No, not we as in you as well. I meant Amber and I are leaving. We’ll take the car, I haven’t had much to drink, but just text me when you want to come home and we’ll come back and fetch you.”

  “No need for that,” Jonah says, “I’ll happily escort Martha home.”

  Charlie claps him on the back. “Thanks, mate, much appreciated. Have fun you two.”

  “Charlie!” I poke him in the ribs to try to wake him up.

  He doesn’t wake up properly but he does turn over and snuggle up.

  “You need to go back to your room,” I hiss at him as he loops an arm around my waist. “It’s five in the morning.”

  “That,” he says, muttering into my ear, “is a great reason to stay right where I am and not get out of bed. Just go back to sleep.”

  “I can’t! You’re not supposed to be here remember?”

  He sighs and just cuddles even closer. “Martha knows. Why do I have to go back to my room?”

  “Because you do. I’m trying to maintain some signs of professionalism here.”

  He pulls away, rolls onto his back and eyes me wearily. “You’re serious?”

  I sit up and nod. “Yes, I’m serious.”

  He sighs again and mutters something under his breath which I take to mean he’s not amused about being pushed out of my bed at five in the morning.

  “OK,” he says with a yawn. “If that’s what you want.”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s what I want but I feel it’s what we should do,” I say as he climbs out of bed and heads for the door.

  A moment later he reappears. “You’re safe. Martha’s bedroom door is wide open. She’s nowhere to be seen.”

  I leap out of bed. “You’re sure?” A thought occurs to me. “She did come back last night though didn’t she? Must admit I didn’t hear her get back from the party. Did you?”

  “Didn’t hear a thing,” he replies. “Maybe she decided to spend the night with Jonah. She did seem pretty keen on him at the dance.”

  “You think she’d have gone to his place?” I frown, hoping she’s OK.

  “She’s a grown woman and capable, more than capable in fact, of looking after herself. She’ll be fine.”

  “Should we send her a text, ask where she is?”

  “At this time in the morning?” He shakes his head. “Honestly, Amber, she’ll be fine. Stop worrying. Any guy who attempts to tangle with Martha when she doesn’t want to be tangled with will be well and truly put in his place by her.”

  “I guess.”

  Charlie takes a step towards me, lifts me off my feet and back towards the bed. “If Martha’s not home that means we can both go back to bed. To your bed.”

  True…

  I’m making coffee when the front door opens at just after eight o’clock. Charlie is in the shower.

  “Hi,” Martha sings as she wanders in looking every bit as gorgeous as she did at the party last night. How does she do that?

  “Have fun?” I ask, leaning back against the counter top. “We were worried about you.”

  She waves a hand in dismissal. “That’s sweet but I’m more than capable of looking after myself.”

  “That’s exactly what Charlie said.”

  “He knows me so well.” She moves to pour herself a mug of coffee.

  “Did you stay with Jonah?” I ask and then wish I could take it back. I sound like her mum, checking up on her, questioning her.

  “Where else would I be?” she says, giving me a strange look. “And in answer to your earlier question. Yes, I had fun. Lots of fun.”

  “I’m sure you did too,” she says with a glance towards the bathroom door where we can hear the shower switch off. “House all to yourselves. Well, I’m off to get changed and go for a run.”

  By the time she reappears in a tiny pair of tight black shorts and a pink crop top, hair pulled back in a ponytail, Charlie and I are sitting at the dining table eating croissants and jam.

  “Hey,” she smiles at Charlie.

  He lifts a hand in greeting while still munching on his breakfast.

  “I’d ask you if you want to come for a run with me but you’re eating so I guess not.”

  “Thanks but I’ve already had my morning workout,” he replies with a wicked smile as I kick him under the table.

  “I’m sure you have,” she laughs as she heads out the door.

  “So I was wrong,” I say, starting to clear away the breakfast plates.

  “About anything in particular?” he replies cheekily, leaning back in his chair.

  “About Martha and her being involved with someone in the agency. If she spent the night with Jonah then I guess I got it wrong and she’s not involved after all.”

  Charlie doesn’t say anything and moves to put the jam and butter back in the fridge.

  “Why have you
gone quiet?”

  He shrugs and turns on the hot tap starting to wash up dishes.

  “Charlie! Come on tell me. You still think she is involved with someone at the agency despite last night?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “But if she is with someone then I guess it’s not serious. Not after she spent the night with Jonah.”

  Charlie shrugs. “I suspect last night, well, it was what it was.”

  “Meaning it was just sex, no emotions, just scratching an itch. That’s what you’re saying?”

  “I guess, yeah. Look, who cares what she’s up to, that’s her business. So long as she knows what she’s doing and why, and she can handle herself, stay safe, then I figure it’s nothing to do with us.”

  “You’re not exactly painting a picture here of a woman with…” I break off, searching for the right words.

  “Morals? Scruples? A conscience?” Charlie supplies. “Look, Martha is the kind of woman who sees what she wants and goes for it, regardless. Simple as that.”

  “And you wonder why I was worried about you and Martha going to Edinburgh together.” There goes my mouth again, goaded by those pesky insecurities of mine.

  Charlie turns around, leaning against the kitchen worktop and crossing his arms. He shakes his head. “No,” he says. One word, but it’s loaded with meaning.

  “But…” I begin.

  “No,” he repeats. “Anything you want to discuss relating to the Edinburgh trip and the case fine, go ahead. Anything relating to Edinburgh and Martha and I, to your lack of trust and your inability to believe what I’ve already told you, then no, no more talk on that. End of subject.”

  “Charlie…”

  I hear sounds outside and realise Martha is back.

  The front door opens and she bounces in looking red faced, hot, sweaty but still, somehow, glamorous. How long has she been outside? Did she only just arrive or has she been waiting for us to finish our little discussion?

  “Right, let’s get on with some work then shall we?” he says, reaching for the car keys and making a hasty exit. “I’ve got an appointment with McKenna down at the local police station. I’ll see you guys later.”