Charlie is out of the car and pulling our luggage from the boot. I clamber out and breathe in the fresh mountain air.
Mmm. Great. It’s even more bracing here than it was at the airport.
As we make our way across to the entrance the door of the chalet is flung open and a man in jeans and a jumper comes running across to us. “Mr Huxton and Miss Reed?”
“That’s right,” I reply as Charlie gives up trying to haul my misbehaving case on wheels across the driveway and just picks it up instead.
“I’m sorry but you have to go!” the man pretty much shouts at us, waving a hand back in the direction of the road we’ve just driven up.
Charlie puts my case down. “Why do we have to go exactly?”
“Hospital.” The man pauses for breath. “Amelia said to tell you to go straight there.”
I glance at Charlie, instantly on alert. “Has something happened?” I say to the man.
He nods. “Yes. Mr Dawson, Ty…”
“You mean Amelia’s boyfriend?” Charlie cuts in.
“Yes. Mr Dawson, that’s right,” he nods, looking distraught. “He’s been rushed to the hospital. Ms Kingston, she just got the call and raced over there.”
“Why has Mr Dawson been rushed to the hospital?” I ask as Charlie throws our luggage back in the boot of the hire car.
“Because he’s been shot!” the man replies, his eyes wide with shock.
CHAPTER TWO
“This is the place,” Charlie says as he throws the car into the first vacant parking space we spot at the hospital.
We dash inside, following the directions we got from the woman manning the main reception. Too impatient and concerned to wait for the lift we head for the stairs. Thankfully it’s only the second floor we need to get to so we can track down Amelia and find out how Ty is doing and the seriousness of his injuries.
The second floor seems to stretch on forever. Eventually we locate the waiting area we need and see Amelia sitting all by herself.
Charlie strides ahead of me. “Amelia?”
She lifts her head at the sound of her name and pushes to her feet. “Charlie!”
“We came as soon as we heard.” Charlie envelops Amelia in a quick hug then steps back and turns towards me. “Amelia this is Amber. Amber, meet Amelia.”
Amelia envelops me in a hug as well, squeezing me so tightly I’m amazed her slim frame is capable of inflicting such pressure. This woman looks nothing like the one I see on the front pages of gossip magazines or in the movies. Understandably she looks tired and stressed out. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, her hair pulled back in an elastic band, she looks more girl next door than glamourous film star.
“Charlie, it’s good to see you again. I was so relieved when the agency said they were able to send you out here for my case.” She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear looking nervous. “Sorry, that’s not to say… I didn’t mean to imply the other agents aren’t up to the job. I know they are. It’s just that I know you and you were brilliant on that case for Pamela. She told me all about it.”
Charlie smiles. “Relax, Amelia. I know what you meant. So, do you want to fill us in on all the details of what’s going on around here? How is Ty?”
Typical Charlie. Straight in there with questions for the case. No asking how she’s coping with being stalked by some crazy guy. No checking if she’s feeling up to answering some questions.
I give Amelia what I hope is an encouraging and reassuring smile. “Is there any news?” I ask gently. “Have they said how Ty is doing yet?”
Amelia nods. “A few moments ago a doctor came to see me. Thankfully whoever shot him…” she pauses and swallows.
Resting a hand on her arm I wait for her to continue. “Take your time.”
“Well, the bullet just grazed his right leg. He’s going to be OK. They’ve dressed the wound or whatever it is they do. I’m useless at medical stuff. Makes me come over all squeamish.” She shudders. “He’ll be kept in here for a few days though. They want him to rest.”
Relief flashes briefly into her eyes and I get the feeling it’s not just relief that Ty is going to be OK but also relief that he’s being kept in for a while because she’s thinking he’ll be safer here than back at the chalet.
Amelia clearly thinks this was no random shooting accident. She thinks her stalker did this. Whoever he is he’s progressed from breaking and entering and leaving her threatening notes to shooting her loved ones.
“Can we see him?” Charlie asks. “I’d like to talk to him.”
“No, I’m so sorry, I don’t think so, not today,” Amelia replies. “He’s sedated at the moment.”
“Where did it happen?” Charlie asks, pulling a notepad and pen from his jacket pocket.
Amelia takes a seat again and Charlie and I join her, sitting each side of her. “Ty went out for a hike with a local mountain guide. He got a little group together, you know, some of the guys staying at the chalet.”
“What’s the name of the guide?” Charlie asks, tapping his pen against his pad.
“Tom Williamson. He’s OK. I know him well. He does handyman stuff for me at the chalet.”
Charlie frowns. “Sorry but we don’t know if anybody is OK or not, Amelia. Not in these circumstances. We’ll still need to get him checked out. So was Ty with the others when he was shot?”
“No. Tom told me that Ty said he needed to erm, answer a call of nature. Tom told him to go off the hiking trail and into the trees. Said he’d carry on ahead with the rest of the group to give him some privacy.”
“And that’s when he was shot?” Charlie asks with a quizzical raising of an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Amelia replies.
“And what did the others do when they heard a shot?”
She frowns. “I don’t know, Charlie. Look, I’m sorry my head is all over the place.”
“Do you know where this Tom guy is now? I want to question him.”
“I think he said he’s got a ski lesson to teach, up on the glacier. He had to rush off.”
Charlie and I exchange glances.
“Do they do hunting out here?” I ask. “You know, shooting pheasants or stuff like that? Could this have been an accident?”
“They do but it’s way outside the shooting season,” Charlie replies. “Nobody should be out hunting in May around here.”
“Poachers?” I venture.
Charlie shrugs. “Possible. I’m thinking as this is a big adventure sports area there are probably people offering leisure shoots of some kind, clay pigeon stuff, but that wouldn’t be going on in the forest in a hiking area. Somebody might have got carried away on a leisure shoot though so that’s a possibility as well.”
Amelia sighs and leans back in her chair, covering her eyes with her hands. “Look, thanks so much for coming over but maybe the two of you should just go to the chalet and get settled in.”
“I don’t think so,” Charlie replies.
“Please,” Amelia says. “I’ll be fine. They said they might let me go and sit in his room until he wakes. You know, so somebody is there as soon as he opens his eyes. But they’ll only let me go in so there’s no point in the two of you waiting around. Please, go back to the chalet. I asked Greg, the chef at my chalet, to get you to come straight here because, at that time, I didn’t know how serious things were but now I know Ty’s going to be OK.”
“Come on, Charlie,” I say, tugging at his arm. “Let’s head back like Amelia suggests. You’ll let us know how things go?”
She nods and flashes me a grateful look. Reluctantly Charlie closes his notebook and gets to his feet.
We arrive back at the chalet, minds in a whirl. As soon as we pull up the same man from earlier appears on the driveway, looking marginally less stressed this time around.
“Come inside, it’s bitter out here today,” he says as he beckons us towards the steps. “Here, let me help you with those.” He reaches to take my suitcase from Charlie.
I close the door behind us, noticing how heavy and solid it is. I suppose it has to be to keep the fierce winter winds and blizzards out.
“I’m Greg, the chef and chalet manager,” the man says as we all stand in the cosy hallway feeling awkward.
“My wife Bethan is the housekeeper, and your chambermaid will be Hannah,” he continues. “If you need anything then somebody is around twenty four hours a day. Just use the phone in your suite and press zero. Would you like to go straight up to your room or would you prefer a hot toddy and cake in the lounge by the fire first?”
“Our room please,” I say on behalf of both of us. The hot toddy, cake and real fire do sound appealing but I’m ready for a soak in a bath and freshen up after the drama of Ty’s shooting. Travelling always makes me feel grubby as well.
The man nods and sets off down a corridor, pulling my suitcase and saying, “Follow me!”
The carpet is so thick beneath my feet I fear I may sink so far in to it that I’ll disappear. All around us are what look like expensive paintings, furniture and ornaments. I’m glad Greg, not me, is manoeuvring my case en route to our room. By now I’d have probably knocked something over.
“I hate to bother you by asking,” Greg says as he leads us to our room, “but how is Mr Dawson doing?”
“He’s going to be fine,” I reply. “The bullet grazed his leg so he’s sedated at the moment and they want to keep him in for a few days, you know to rest, but then he should be home.”
“Oh, that is a relief,” Greg sighs, a hand fluttering to his chest.
I just manage to stifle a gasp when he opens the door to our room. It’s like something from the lifestyles of the rich and famous. Even the huge wooden four poster bed looks lost, the room is so vast.
Greg picks up a remote control from a unit at the bottom of the bed.
“You’ll find that everything in here can be operated from this control,” Greg says mainly, I notice, addressing his comments to Charlie. Do I not look capable of operating a remote control?
“This button,” he continues, “is for the television.” As he speaks an enormous flat screen TV pops up from a mahogany unit across the room.
“And these ones are for the heating and air conditioning. This will control water temperature for the spa bath and the shower experience. There’s also a heated mattress on the bed which you can switch on by pressing this button here.”
Shower experience? What’s a shower experience?
I zone out and take a stroll around the room as Greg continues with his operating instructions. There are two sets of French doors which appear to open to our personal balcony. A wall behind the bed encourages me to be nosey (it doesn’t take much) so I duck around it and discover his and hers walk-in wardrobes. Another door leads to the bathroom.
I have never seen a bathroom this size.
There’s a double size spa bath, a separate shower for two (is that the experience?) and a wall of mirrors behind a counter with two sinks sporting gold taps. There’s even a TV.
“Quite something huh?”
I turn to see Charlie standing in the doorway.
“I’m speechless,” I reply.
“Well, let’s make the most of that rare moment then.” In one second Charlie is across the room and pulling me into a kiss.
Charlie and I have been together now for ten months. I’d say ten completely blissful months but then I’d be lying. And I’m a rubbish liar. My cheeks go all red and I get flustered. It’s been ten mostlyblissful months. Some of the time we were together we were also apart, if you see what I mean, because I was off doing my CCIA training and Charlie was working agency cases all over the globe.
Anyway, back to the mostly part. Naturally neither Charlie nor I are perfect. We clash over things and we both have the sometimes useful and sometimes obstructive personality trait of stubbornness. Which, of course, can lead to issues.
I love Charlie and I told him so. Admittedly it was really bad timing as I said it in the middle of an argument about him and another woman. Charlie didn’t immediately reciprocate with I love you too but he did a day later. Well, I think he did. We were on a ferry at the time, I was feeling seasick, there were huge waves, a lot of boat engine noise and screeching seagulls. I think he whispered in my ear that he loved me but it could just have been wishful thinking on my part.
“Did you take notes on how to use the remote control?” I tease when our lips eventually part.
Charlie shakes his head. “No need. There’s a hefty instruction manual on the coffee table.”
“I’m struggling to believe we get to stay here,” I say. “I’m not accustomed to this kind of living.”
“Working for the agency means you end up staying in all sorts of places and most of the time they are nothing like this so make the most of it!”
Our first case together involved us staying in a charming but pretty basic cottage on a remote Scottish island so I decide he’s right. I’m going to try and enjoy our chalet stay as much as it’s possible to when you’re working on a case.
“Greg left us an envelope which I’ve just opened. It contains a list of chalet guests. Amelia must have already put it together for us, before the shooting. Oh and he said dinner will be served in about an hour. In Amelia’s absence Ty’s mum and dad will be hosting the meal apparently,” Charlie says as he leans against the doorframe.
“Strange they’re not at the hospital don’t you think?”
He nods. “Yeah, I thought the same. Wonder what that’s about?”
“You know, sometimes I love this job but other times…” I pause, looping my arms around Charlie’s waist. “Other times, it terrifies me. People being shot at, being stalked, murdered. It’s scary stuff.”
Charlie hugs me tight. “Makes you realise you’ve got to make the most of your life while you can, doesn’t it?”
CHAPTER THREE
“I still feel guilty,” I say as I watch Charlie undress, scatter his clothes all over the bathroom floor, and climb into the other side of the double bath. “We shouldn’t be indulging in all this luxury; we’re here to work.”
“Are you the same woman who wanted to go to a fancy Highland party up at the manor house on our last case? I seem to recall being the one to protest on that occasion that we shouldn’t be off learning how to do Scottish country dancing but carrying out an investigation instead.”
I flick soapy water at him playfully. He’s right. Life is precious. Love also. Moments like this are special. “That was because you didn’t want to have to wear a kilt for the Scottish country dancing,” I tease.
“True. That kilt was draughty and made me feel very uncomfortable. Anyway, like I said before, it’s not often we get to sample this kind of luxury, the agency is very tight with the old expenses budget, so on this occasion, as sampling the luxury is an intrinsic part of the case, I say we make the best of the situation. Plus, Ty is going to be fine, thankfully, so we don’t have to worry on that front. What we do have to worry about though is getting to grips with this case and finding this stalker. Unfortunately we can’t go through everything with Amelia until tomorrow when she gets back from the hospital but, for now, we can make a start on familiarising ourselves with our fellow guests before dinner tonight.”
Sounds good to me. “Where do we start with going through this guest list Amelia left with Greg for us then?”
“Well, obviously we can eliminate Ennis and Siobhan from our enquiries unless your university boyfriend has recently taken up sharp-shooting.”
“Ha ha, very funny. I’d say it seems an unlikely list of candidates because everyone on here is either family or a friend of Amelia’s. But I seem to recall you telling me once that victims often know those stalking, threatening or injuring them.”
“So you do listen to me sometimes then,” he teases. “Right, let’s begin our investigation at the top of the list and see who has motive to want to scare Amelia. After that we assess any likely candidates.”
I s
hudder and dip down a little further in the hot and sweetly scented bath water. “Why doesn’t she get herself a couple of bodyguards?”
“I think she hates the idea of having people traipsing around after her everywhere. It must be tough being famous. It can be difficult enough to get some private time and personal space. I’ve seen it drive some celebs insane.” Charlie rests his head back against the rim of the tub. “So, whose name is at the top of this guest list then?”
I dry my hands on a towel draped over the edge of the bath and reach for the list. “Staying in the Topaz Suite we have Fern and Howard Dawson.”
“Ty’s parents?” Charlie checks. “Who else have we got on the list?”
“Fran and Spencer Curran are staying in the Emerald Suite. Fran is an old friend of Amelia’s from drama school.”
“She’s an actress too then?” he asks.
“Not sure, if she is then I don’t think she’s in the spotlight like Amelia is. I’ll get a background check done on her and her husband.”
“Right. Next?”
“Residing in the Amethyst Suite we have Micky Adamson and his latest girlfriend Pammie Cleeves. He’s an actor.”
I check the digital clock on the wall. “It looks as though working through the rest of this list will have to wait for now. We need to get dressed and down to the dining room to meet our suspects in person.”
An hour later we’re all seated around a grand mahogany dining table making small talk as the bowls from our starter of broccoli and Stilton soup are removed by Greg’s wife Bethan and the chalet’s chambermaid Hannah.
Everyone, much as I suspected, is all dressed up. I have no idea if the suits and dresses are all Prada or not but I think there’s a very high probability they are. I opted for a navy velvet dress which is definitely more high street than designer but I hope I don’t look too out of place.
Ennis is seated next to me, Charlie, in black trousers and open neck blue shirt, is opposite. I know we’re here to track down Amelia’s stalker and the mystery of who shot Ty but it is lovely having the chance to catch up with Ennis and Siobhan again as well. He’s been filming in Australia for the past few months, and Siobhan, having made her sabbatical from her airline stewardess job permanent, joined him out there.
Precious: A Humorous Romantic Cozy Mystery (Amber Reed Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency Mystery Book 2) Page 20
