What if whoever turns up does have a gun? I still don’t know if Charlie is armed or not. Do CCIA investigators carry guns?
What if they - whoever they are - have got Charlie and I’m going to be left all alone in the quarry? What if they lock me in? What if…
I hold my breath. Mind racing with thoughts.
I still can’t hear any sounds out there though.
Should I open the door? Charlie told me not to under any circumstances but if it’s quiet now then surely it will be OK to open the door just a touch. Enough to peer through and see what’s happening.
Yes or no?
I take a slow, deep breath and open the door a fraction, about to peer out when it’s yanked away from me and I leap back in fright.
Chapter Nine
I look up into Charlie’s eyes.
“I thought I told you to keep the door closed,” he hisses at me.
Before I can reply he grabs my hand. “We need to get out of here now.”
I nod and scramble to follow him across the room.
“Did you…” I try to speak but it’s barely more than a whisper when the words do manage to find their way out.
Charlie glances back at me briefly. “Not now,” he warns me, holding a finger to his lips to silence me.
Is the person who turned up still here somewhere? Are we likely to be caught at any second?
Outside he tugs me across the rough ground to an area behind some lorries and gestures for me to crouch down near the back chassis of one of the huge trucks so I’m out of sight. I stare back at him, so many questions tumbling through my mind, yet unable to speak. I hear a noise and see a man in a coat, the hood up, come out of one of the other quarry buildings with a rucksack. He walks towards the car and I hold my breath. As he opens the door the interior light flickers on and I catch a glimpse of the person’s face. It’s Liam. I’m sure it is.
Charlie and I stay out of sight until the car’s headlights disappear over the top of the quarry track, heading back towards the road.
“Right, the coast is clear. First I need to go back and lock the door again. I didn’t want to hang around before in case Liam came out of the other building. I just wanted to get you out of there.”
“Lock the door?” I frown. Did I see Charlie unlock the door when we hurried out? Meaning it was locked again when we were inside… “Did you lock the door again?” I ask, confused.
He nods. “Yeah. When the car turned up I didn’t know if Liam was likely to come into the main office or not. If he had come over and then found the door unlocked he’d have instantly been suspicious and been looking for intruders. So I scooted to the door and locked it again, removing the key, just in case.”
The footsteps I’d heard.
Clever thinking.
“You said, first, you were going to lock the door, then what? Was it definitely Liam who turned up? I thought it looked like him but wasn’t entirely sure.”
“Yes it was Liam. He just went into the other building which looks as though it’s a storeroom of some kind. He shut the door behind him so I couldn’t see what he was doing. I just wanted to get you out of the office whilst he was in the other building. Then he reappeared, zipping up his rucksack, like you saw. He must have forgotten something and come back for it but I couldn’t see what it was. I think that building houses quarry equipment so it could have been anything.”
“Why on earth would he want quarry equipment in the middle of the night?”
“Good question,” Charlie says. “Which brings me to the second item on my list. I want to get into that building and see what’s inside it.”
Now that Liam’s car has gone silence surrounds us again and I shiver. I just want to get out of here as quickly as possible. Charlie, now examining the lock on the other building, clearly has other ideas. Nervously I make my way towards him. “Can you unlock it?”
He’s systematically working his way through the various keys on the key ring he ‘borrowed’ earlier today from the office. “None of them fit,” I say as he checks the last one. “What now?”
“There’s more than one way to open a lock,” he says, putting his rucksack on the ground he opens it and pulls out a small black leather pouch. I watch in silence as he selects a slim metal tool and then, in seconds, picks the lock. I can’t help being impressed even though I know I shouldn’t be. Lock picking is not a skill I usually look for in potential boyfriends. Not that Charlie is a potential boyfriend of course.
“Why didn’t you just pick the lock on the first building? Why borrow the keys if you can get into a building easily anyway?”
“Picking locks isn’t exactly a subtle way of checking out a building,” he replies. “If you can get them then keys are better.”
Inside the building Charlie shines his torch around the room. Every wall has row upon row of metal shelving, about four tiers high. The shelves are stacked with all sorts of quarry-type equipment. High visibility coats and vests, hard hats, a whole section of mechanical stuff that I haven’t got a clue about and a stash of canteen supplies, from bags of sugar to spare mugs. “Why would you bother to come back to the quarry for anything in here?” I say looking around me.
“Maybe whatever he wanted wasn’t in here.” Charlie flashes his torch to the other side of the room and a padlocked door. “Maybe it was in there.”
Charlie examines the door but not only is it locked via a large keyhole it also has a smaller Yale lock too. Just to be extra safe there are two bolts with padlocks, one at the top and one at the bottom.
“Can you get in?” I ask, shining a torch on the Yale lock as Charlie inspects it.
He shakes his head. “Nope. Even I can’t get in there. I’ve got equipment to try and crack the padlocks and the Yale but nothing for the other keyhole. Trust me, this door isn’t opening any time soon. Not unless I put a stick of dynamite under it.”
I gasp. “Have you got a stick of dynamite?”
He looks at me as though I’m crazy. “No, I haven’t.”
“Oh. So that’s it then,” I say, feeling a little disappointed we can’t discover the secrets of the locked storeroom.
“For now,” Charlie says, packing his gear back in his rucksack. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Getting up the steep path out of the quarry is harder than getting down it. Charlie holds out a hand to help me as we begin to scramble up through bushes, trying not to get our feet tangled in bits of spiky brambles.
It seems to take an age to reach the top, crawl back through the hole in the fence and sprint down the lane towards Charlie’s car. During which time neither of us speak.
What just happened back there? Why was Liam in the quarry at almost one in the morning? What is inside that quadruple-locked storeroom?
By the time I get home I’m asleep on my feet. It’s been a long and stressful day. Flopping into bed I manage to keep my eyes open long enough to check my phone. A missed call from mum and one from Debs. Both want me to call them back as soon as possible. It’s too late to call them now. Mentally I add calling them to my extensive To-Do list for tomorrow.
Eventually I fall into a troubled sleep filled with dreams of guns, locks, murders and Charlie.
My alarm clock hasn’t even gone off when my mobile starts ringing. My first thought is that it’s Charlie. I scramble upright and grab the phone or at least what I thought, half asleep, was a phone. It’s a bar of chocolate instead, strategically placed for late-night snack emergencies. Throwing the chocolate back on the bedside table I pick up my phone, seeing it’s my mum calling.
“Hi, Mum! You’re up early.”
“I wanted to catch you and this time of day seemed like the best chance of speaking to you. You’re so busy lately.”
“Sorry,” I reply. “Things are a little crazy at the moment.”
“Does it have anything to do with this Charlie guy you’re seeing?”
Before I can answer she carries on, “I heard all about you and him in the
store cupboard at the pub the other night. Honestly, Amber I’m pleased you’re dating again, at last, I honestly am but I think that kind of behaviour is a touch unseemly.”
I thought Liam was the only one who’d noticed Charlie and I come out of the store room last night but apparently not. The gossips of Palstone have clearly been busy bees.
“I’m sure he’s a lovely young man but do you think the two of you can be a little more discreet when you’re, well, you know…”
“Mum! We weren’t doing anything in there other than talking.”
“Why would the two of you need to go into a cupboard to talk?” she says, sounding confused. “Oh, I see, it was that kind of talk.”
Lord help me. Now my mum thinks I’m dating some kind of dirty-talking-in-public pervert.
“No, Mum, it was just normal talking.”
“I don’t understand,” she replies.
How am I going to explain this without telling her about what Charlie and I are really up to?
“Look, I’m sorry, Mum. I have to go, my day is crazy today. I promise you though, you have nothing to worry about with Charlie and I and unseemly behaviour.”
“You’ll be more discreet with your carryings on in future then? Good.”
No! Oh, sugar. This conversation is impossible. I can’t tell her the truth. All I can do is agree.
“Yes, Mum, we will,” I say soberly.
“So when are you bringing him round for dinner? I’m sure your dad would love to meet him.”
“No he wouldn’t, Mum. Dad hates all my boyfriends, not that there have been that many of them to start with.”
“Nonsense, you’re imagining it. I’m doing my best to shield him from the gossip about the pub and the cupboard incident so when he does meet Charlie things won’t start off on the wrong foot.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling irritated I’m being painted as some storeroom harlot without getting any of the benefits.
I’m out of the door and in my car on the way to the newspaper when my phone rings again. I see Debs’ name on the screen so pull over on the edge of the village.
“Hi,” I say, one eye on the dashboard clock. I can’t be late for work.
“You are no longer my best friend!” Debs says, sounding miffed off.
“Why? What did I do?”
“You never shared with me about yours and Charlie’s cupboard love fetish.”
Oh no, not this again. I hate village gossip.
“What’s worse is that I was in the pub at the time and I didn’t see the two of you coming out of the stockroom. Honestly, you turn your back on somebody for five minutes so you can watch a darts match and all sorts of exciting things go on.”
She pauses for breath and I’m just about to start making my excuses when I realise I’m in exactly the same situation as I was with my mum’s earlier call. I can’t explain what Charlie and I were actually doing in the cupboard. I sigh.
“So how was he?” she says, switching from annoyed to curious in a split second.
“It was just a kiss,” I say, hating the fact I’m having to fib to Debs yet again. “Nothing more.”
“Oh.” Debs sounds disappointed. “So why did you go in the storeroom? You could have just kissed in the bar.”
“I was supposed to be working. I’d have got into trouble if the boss would have seen us.”
“Right. I see. I miss that.”
I frown. “Miss what?”
“When you’re first dating a guy and you can’t keep your hands off each other. It’s so exciting. I really need to find a new boyfriend,” she says with a sigh. “I need to get out more.”
“Want to go to the cinema tonight?” I ask, seeing a chance to get back in her good books. “Ennis’ new romcom is on at the multiplex. I’ll buy the popcorn.”
Chapter Ten
“That’s weird,” I say, checking my phone and then glancing across at Debs who is concentrating on her driving.
We’re on our way back from a night out in the big metropolis that is Sandgrove, a small town about ten miles away from Palstone. It’s the home of the nearest decent cinema.
There is a cinema in the back of a truck which tours round the villages every so often but the less said about that the better. We went to see Ennis’ latest film, a romcom in which he made many a heart flutter.
Today was spent juggling my task of shadowing Charlie as per Ennis’ wishes and working at the newspaper- writing horoscopes for the next edition and sorting the classified adverts. There were no major discoveries in the Joel case despite all our checking and double-checking and questioning. Time is running out. We still don’t know where Joel went that night between leaving the house and ending up on the moors. We still don’t know if he was alone up on that moor when he fell to his death.
I’ve left Charlie trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together back at Ennis’ guest wing whilst Debs and I had a much-needed girly night out. The past twenty four hours or so have been hectic, crazy and scary all rolled into one. I needed a night out with Debs to restore my sanity.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m still freaked about Joel’s death and worried that it might have had something to do with Ennis and that he might be in danger too. I’m still stunned I’m suddenly part of an ongoing investigation into the death of a man. But, having said all that, Debs and I were desperate to see Ennis’ new film and we wanted to see it via the cinema multiplex experience. You know, with the ear-splitting surround sound, the smell of popcorn and those comfy luxury seats you pay extra for.
“What’s weird?” Debs asks bringing me out of my cinema reverie. “You said something was weird then went off into daydream land for a minute. Thinking of Charlie?” she teases.
“Oh, sorry. What is weird is that I’ve just had a text message from Bert Golding,” I say, fiddling with my phone.
Debs checks the rear-view mirror of her aging Corsa and then wrinkles up her nose. “You mean that guy who’s the caretaker up at Ennis McKarthy’s place?”
“The very same.”
“What does he want?”
“He’s asking me to meet him. Tonight.”
“Eww. What as in some kind of date? He’s in his fifties isn’t he?”
“No, don’t be daft. Not a date.”
I’m about to say it must be something to do with the Joel case when I remember I’m not supposed to talk about that.
Sugar.
How am I going to explain my way out of this one to Debs?
“He wants me to meet him up on the lane that goes along the middle of the moor towards the standing stones.” I check the clock on my phone. “In ten minutes.”
“That’ll be midnight. Why on earth would he need to meet you there at that time?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “It must be something to do with Ennis.”
“Like what? And why would he need to talk to you?” Debs asks, looking confused.
“I don’t know!” I stare at the screen on my phone. Now I’m worried. What does Bert want?
“What are you going to do?” Debs asks.
I stare out the window, saying nothing.
“You are not going up there to meet him!” Debs says, correctly interpreting my silence. “No way!”
“He’s a friend, well, kind of. I know he’s been going through a tough time lately after his divorce. Perhaps it’s something to do with his daughter Tina, maybe he wants a woman’s perspective on a problem with her,” I say, frantically improvising. “He told me the other day that she’s been getting into trouble, hanging out with the wrong sort. That’s why her mum sent her to stay with him for a while.”
“Even so, he wants to meet now? How can it be so urgent? You’ve got to admit that’s odd behaviour, even for Bert. You cannot go up there; at least, you can’t go and meet him there alone.”
I turn in my seat to face her. “You come with me then.”
“No freaking way.” She shakes her head. “I’m not going up on some creepy moor to meet
a creepy guy. I manage to meet enough creepy guys in the village pub without going up on the moors in the pitch black to find them as well.”
Despite her protestations Debs slows the ancient Corsa, executes a perfect three point turn and heads back up the road towards the moor.
“Debs, no, I was kidding around before. You’re not getting involved in this.”
“We’re both going.” She turns the car down another narrower lane. “Now, let’s see what Bert wants.”
This last bit of the road across the edge of the moors is always a bit spooky. It’s not quite so bad tonight though because it’s clear and there’s an almost full moon illuminating the landscape. Debs slows down a little, her hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white. I glance across at the moon, the light silhouetting the standing stones up on the moor.
Something catches my eye, moving around amongst the tangle of brambles and grass. I hastily turn my attention back to the country lane just as a man stumbles onto the road, head down, clutching the side of his body. Instinct kicks in.
I scream.
Debs screams even louder. She hits the brakes. The car comes to a screeching halt a few feet away from the man. He slumps to the ground, his back to us.
I hit the lock button on my door and gesture for Debs to do the same with hers. She frantically scrambles at her lock. Neither of us speak. Or breathe.
I stare at the body. Beside me Debs’ breathing is strained and gasping. She sounds as though she’s about to have a panic attack.
“It’s OK,” I say, finding my voice, reaching for her hand. Trying to calm her.
“It’s not bloody well OK!” she shrieks back at me. I look over and see the tears in her eyes shimmering in the moonlight. “There’s a dead man on the road in front of us! Oh, God, what if the police think I killed him? Hit him with my car? Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.”
She has a point.
Suddenly, between the moonlight and the car headlights, I think I spot something familiar. The crumpled figure is wearing a red lumberjack coat. Where have I seen that before? In the pub, the other night, draped over the back of a bar stool. Who did it belong to though? Ennis? Liam? Ryan?
And The Earth Moved: Romantic Comedy Cozy Mystery (Amber Reed CCIA Mystery Book 1) Page 7
