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

by Zanna Mackenzie

  “Nothing happened?” I say, seeking his confirmation of the fact.

  “Nothing happened,” he repeats. “I swear.”

  I’m acutely aware that he has completely ignored my declaration of love. Is that because he doesn’t feel the same way about me or because he’s being typical Charlie, a man who doesn’t find it easy to talk about his feelings? Showing his feelings with a kiss, a hug, the physical stuff, yeah, he can more than handle that side of things. He can even deal with showing support for my new career with the agency and comfort for life’s everyday little knocks and upsets. Love. Talking about love and his emotions - that’s a whole different kettle of fish.

  Now I feel mad about the secret and about Martha, as well as feeling mad that he didn’t just turn around and say I love you right back to me. Swirls of emotions are making me feel light-headed. I move back to sit on the edge of the rocks and Charlie comes and sits next to me.

  Silence hangs between us once more.

  The seagull is back, this time he or she has bought along a friend. They hover nearby, still hoping for food.

  Eventually Charlie speaks. “I hate that you don’t trust me.”

  “I know you do,” I reply, my throat tight.

  “I want you to trust me. Need you to.”

  I nod but don’t say anything.

  “These past few months while you were off doing your agency training and I was working on cases all over the place, while we were apart, I could have been getting up to anything, with anyone.” He throws a glance at me before continuing, “But I wasn’t. I’m not that guy. Equally, you could have been getting up to stuff, plenty of opportunity, but I trust you. I trust that you weren’t cheating on me.”

  I think back to the past months and my intensive preparation to start working with the CCIA. “You’re joking right? During agency training I didn’t have the energy for anything by the end of the day,” I say, attempting to lighten the atmosphere between us.

  “How can we make this right?” he asks, his gaze far out to sea where a fishing boat is bobbing on the waves. “I can get former girlfriends to provide you with references on my good behaviour if you want.”

  A smile flickers across my lips at his attempt to lighten the mood. Then I see his intense stare and realise he means it. He’d actually do that?

  “They’ll probably say I was away with work too often. That I think about work too much. That I’m not ready for settling down and doing the whole marriage and children thing.” He shrugs. “But you know all that stuff already. I’m not perfect, Amber but I promise I have never cheated.”

  Can we make things right?

  Charlie kept a secret.

  I have trust issues.

  Suddenly he stands up and reaches for both my hands, squeezing them with his, pulling me to my feet. I look into his eyes and I see it. A tumult of emotions and I could swear amongst them I can see love. Is it wishful thinking? Am I imagining it?

  He pulls me into a fierce hug and I squeeze him back every bit as tightly. We stay like that for I don’t know how long. I want to make this relationship work with Charlie. I really do. Maybe we can work through this. Learn from our mistakes and move forward.

  Charlie releases me and takes a step back. Lifting my chin gently with the tip of a finger he looks deep into my eyes.

  “I’m sorry for not telling you about the room share,” he says. “I thought it would create complications where there honestly weren’t any.”

  I nod. “I believe you. And I’m sorry for going off to the beach and cave, following Marston, without telling someone first.”

  “Are we OK?” he asks quietly.

  I nod again, my voice lost for a second in the whirl of emotions which are making it increasingly difficult to fight back the tears.

  “No more secrets,” I say, as much a statement as a question.

  “No more secrets about us,” Charlie replies.

  I give him a weary look.

  “Amber, you know that in this line of work, sometimes there will be things we can’t tell each other, especially if we’re working on separate cases. But I swear, no secrets about anything relating to us.”

  “OK.” I let out a long sigh.

  “And you have to agree to something else too,” he says.

  “Oh?” That I didn’t expect. What does he need from me?

  “You have to learn to trust me,” he says. “I swear, Amber it’s OK. I know you’ve been hurt in the past but this time it’s honestly all right to let your guard down. You have to trust me. I’m not going to mess around. I’m a one-woman kind of guy. I want to be with you. Just you.”

  Sugar.

  Why did he have to go and say that? I mean, yeah, I wanted him to say it, needed him to say it but now I really can’t hold back the flood of tears. They flow down my cheeks and I wipe at them with the back of my sleeve.

  Charlie lifts my hand out of the way and softly brushes the tears away from my cheeks with the edge of his thumb.

  Maybe we will be OK. We can make this work.

  No more secrets.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  If anything the waves are even fiercer than before. I’m standing on the deck of the car ferry which is taking Charlie and me back to the mainland. The flights were all full and I just wanted to get home as quickly as possible so I agreed to get the boat. Again. This frequent ferry travel is not helping me to get my sea legs though.

  The boat hits another wave and the deck beneath my feet dips alarmingly.

  “You doing OK?” Charlie asks.

  I nod. He’s standing behind me, arms around my waist, holding me close. A powerful wave of nausea rises up inside me. I fight the urge to throw up over the side of the boat. What did I say about not getting my sea legs? If anything today I feel even worse than my last ferry trip. I’ve never had nausea this badly before in my life. Maybe it’s a side effect of my bump on the head a few days ago.

  “Look at the horizon, not down,” Charlie suggests. “It’s supposed to help reduce sea sickness.” He strokes a hand down my cheek. “You’re really pale. Are you sure you’re OK? By law there has to be a medical or trained first aid person on a ship. Do you want me to go and get them? They could probably give you some really strong sea sickness pills rather than just those over the counter ones.”

  I shake my head. “No. No pills. I’ll be OK.”

  Charlie snuggles closer and squeezes me gently. His lips nuzzle at my right ear and I figure he’s trying to distract me from feeling ill, bless him.

  The throb of the engines and squawking seagulls combined are giving me a headache.

  He nibbles my earlobe and I wish I was in a better state of health and a better frame of mind so I could enjoy the delicious sensation.

  But I’m not.

  He stops nibbling and instead brushes his lips against the side of my face and then puts his mouth close to my ear.

  He whispers something and my fuzzy head tries to make sense of the words. I feel a jolt of shock when my brain offers me the words it thinks Charlie has just said.

  It sounded remarkably like…

  It couldn’t have been…..

  Could it?

  Did Charlie actually just say the words I’ve been longing to hear from him for months?

  Did he really just say I love you?

  Or was it wishful thinking on my part again, combined with a head which can’t think straight thanks to nausea the likes of which I’ve never experienced before in my life?

  Find out what happens next, read on for an extract from Forever Mine,

  The Case Of The Movie Star Stalker,

  and join Amber and Charlie on another exciting adventure….

  FOREVER MINE

  Amber’s on the case again.

  Stalkers, shootings and special agents. All part of being famous, right? Well, they are for Oscar-winning actress Amelia Kingston when she starts getting deeply disturbing and threatening notes left by a stalker. When her boyfriend Ty is sh
ot she calls in the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency (CCIA) the elite agency who specialize in solving crimes for the rich and famous.

  The CCIA send new recruit Amber Reed and her rather handsome special agent partner Charlie undercover to Amelia’s luxury mountain chalet to investigate.

  But circumstances force the agency to pull Charlie off the case, meaning Amber has a new crime fighting partner to try and catch the stalker with – and he’s trouble with a capital T! He throws Amber’s life into chaos, making her question herself and her abilities as well as her relationship with Charlie.

  Can the two of them manage to pull together and stop the stalker before anyone else gets shot?

  The Amber Reed Cozy Mystery series combine celebrities, romance, comedy and adventure into fun cozy murder mysteries.

  Download your copy of Forever Mine today and join Amber in the luxury mountain retreat as she tries to catch the stalker, be nice to her new special agent co-worker and stop her feet from freezing on the snowy ski slopes.

  Read on for an extract…

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Who’d want to be famous?”

  Charlie and I are hovering in the airport’s baggage reclaim area, hoping our luggage has managed to find its way to France too.

  “Before I got this job I thought being a star was all glamourous living, oodles of money in the bank and being worshipped by all your adoring fans.”

  The baggage carousel emits several loud clunks closely followed by a high pitched screeching noise before slowly starting up.

  “But now,” I continue, lowering my voice, “I know being famous makes you a target for all the stalkers, murderers and crazies out there. One minute Amelia Kingston is receiving her Oscar for best actress in the blockbuster movie Forever Mine. The next she’s well, you know....”

  Beside me Charlie nods and grabs his battered holdall from the baggage carousel. Then we have to wait for what seems like an eternity before my bright purple suitcase puts in an appearance too.

  “Still not got the hang of this travelling light business have you?” he says hauling my own case from the conveyor belt.

  “We’re staying in a luxury mountain chalet in the French Alps. Who knows what outfits I might need? I can’t pack light for this,” I retort while feeling a tad guilty about just how much I have crammed into my case. I had to sit on it to force the lid closed.

  He shakes his head. “We’re working, Amber.”

  “Yes, but we’re working undercover and the other guests will be glam celebrities wearing designer outfits so I’ll need to have some half-decent clothes with me. I can’t just turn up for dinner every night in jeans and a sweater.”

  “Why not? I am,” he replies as we head for the exit, Charlie tugging my suitcase behind him.

  “It’s different for men,” I reply as I race to keep up with him.

  Outside the wind is bitingly cold and almost blows me off my feet as we exit the airport terminal and head for the car hire offices. We left behind a warm spring day in the UK but here it feels more like February than May. I pull on a jacket.

  See, that’s another reason why I needed to pack quite so much. The weather in the mountains is notoriously fickle. A girl needs to be prepared for sun, snow and rain where we’re going.

  This is my second case as a support officer for the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency (otherwise known as the CCIA) and I’m still nervous about the whole catch-a-killer side of my work. OK, it’s mainly for the fully trained CCIA agents to do that side of the job while I provide, as my job title suggests, support on the case.

  I do have a tendency to get a little bit carried away sometimes though and find myself in, shall we say, tricky circumstances. Like on my first case when I ended up in a cave on a deserted beach with a murderer who had a knife at my throat.

  Anyway, technically, it’s the agents who are the guys with the special ‘clearance’ to do all sorts of things (sometimes against the law) to solve a case and get murderers put behind bars. Charlie even carries a gun. Which, to be honest, freaks me out a little. Though he says he only ever uses it to ‘disable’ the bad guys and stop them escaping, rather than actually kill them.

  We reach the car hire building and Charlie starts talking to the woman behind the counter in fluent French.

  Show off.

  Eventually, after much checking and signing of documents, we are in possession of our rugged-looking 4x4 vehicle and are heading for the resort where we’ll be staying and working.

  Our mission?

  Hollywood actress Amelia Kingston, the owner of the aforementioned luxury chalet, has found herself on the receiving end of some unwanted attention. She’s hosting a week-long party at the chalet with specially invited family and friends. Unfortunately the whole thing rapidly went from good to bad when she started finding unexpected gifts in her bedroom at the chalet, and not in a good way. These gifts were of the creepy variety and were also accompanied by threatening and equally creepy notes. Then she called the CCIA and well, here we are.

  As Charlie slows the car for a worryingly narrow stretch of road I take in the view. The landscape is basically jagged mountains and miles of pine forests. It’s beautiful. The sun is out and the grass is green in the valley but the tops of the mountains are still wearing their snow caps and the wind is hand numbingly cold.

  We round another tight bend and I grip the sides of the passenger seat as my stomach dips at the steep drop just feet away from the edge of the road.

  A sign tells us we are five kilometres from Montagne Verte, our destination.

  “Montagne Verte, that means green mountain right?” I say to Charlie as he slows for an even narrower stretch of mountain road with an even steeper drop on one side.

  “Yep,” he says glancing across at me. “You speak French?”

  I nod. “Oui. Un petit peu de l'école.” Scrabbling around in the back of my memory I dredge up some more schoolgirl French. “Le chien est sur la table.”

  Charlie frowns. “The dog is on the table?”

  “Oui.” What else can I remember from French lessons? “La poubelle est pleine.”

  “The dustbin is full?” Charlie laughs. “What the hell kind of French teacher did you have in school if those are the phrases you can remember?”

  “A young and very pretty one I seem to recall. All of the boys spent their French lesson trying not to drool on their textbooks.”

  “Well, some French, of any kind, could be very useful over the next week I’m sure.”

  “What do we know about this case then?” I ask. “How many people are staying in our client’s straight-out-of-the-pages-of-Architectural-Digest chalet?”

  “A lot. It has seven double bedrooms plus staff quarters. Fourteen guests. Besides the two of us and Amelia and her boyfriend Ty and, of course, Ennis and Siobhan, everyone else could potentially be on the suspects list. Plus we have three live-in members of staff and one casual handyman who have access to the lodge as well.”

  Typical Charlie. He’s memorised all of the case information we’ve been given so far.

  “We’ll need to check everyone out,” he continues. “The client insists the place has the latest high-tech security so a stalker shouldn’t be able to get inside, especially not as far as her bedroom, to be leaving these notes and unwanted gifts. So at this stage it suggests this could well be an inside job but we can’t rule anything out.”

  “So basically we have a chalet full of people then, most of whom could be suspects.”

  “Yep. And because of that we’re undercover on this job and can’t go down the conventional route of just cross-examining everyone. We have to do this the hard way.”

  I stare out of the window as I contemplate this fact. Our official cover for joining Amelia’s chalet party is that she invited Charlie along because he’s an old friend. I’m here as his girlfriend. The last part is actually true.

  Charlie and I met when he was sent to deepest darkest Derbyshire where I live. He wa
s on a mission to figure out who murdered the brother of heartthrob actor Ennis McKarthy. Ennis, in the days long before he was famous, was my boyfriend at university and we’re still friends after all these years. Nowadays Ennis is heavily involved with a woman called Siobhan who used to hate me (long story) but now we’re all friends. Which is a good job because Ennis and Siobhan, as Charlie mentioned, are amongst the guests at this chalet. At least we can cross both of their names off the suspects list. They, of course, know the truth about the agency Charlie and I work for, but they have been sworn to secrecy. On this occasion though, even they think we’re here just as guests of Amelia and purely for a holiday. Amelia wanted it that way. She’s not keen for her guests to know what’s going on with the whole stalker thing.

  “Right, this is the start of the resort,” Charlie says as we drive along a road with picturesque traditional wooden buildings on either side. “Amelia’s chalet is through the town and up another mountain road.”

  The buildings are the usual mix of bars, shops, cafes and restaurants. The town is bustling with people, some in brightly coloured ski suits and woolly hats, others looking strangely dressed up in what I hope are fake fur jackets and boots. Montagne Verte is apparently one of those trendy posh resorts where people go as much to be seen as to actually strap on some skis and venture onto the slopes.

  “They’re still skiing? In May?”

  “Glacier skiing,” Charlie replies. “Get the ski lift to the top of the mountain and there’s an area with specially prepared and groomed pistes so people can ski almost all year round if they want to.”

  Ten minutes later we crawl up the drive to Amelia’s chalet.

  “Well, this is the place,” Charlie says as we pull into a parking area off to one side, which looks as though it is packed with an A to Z of the most expensive cars on the planet. “Pretty impressive, huh?”

  I stare up at the huge wooden chalet. Impressive? It’s far more than impressive. It’s built in the local traditional style with overhanging eaves but in a grand way. It’s four storeys high and each level has its own balcony.