Amber Reed Mysteries Volume One: Romantic Comedy Mystery Series Box Set (Amber Reed Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency Mystery Box Set Book 1)

by Zanna Mackenzie

  I look at him but don’t say anything either. I’m torn between making him say it’s over between us before it really began and wanting to act all blasé and non-committal and get out of here as quickly as possible before the threatened tears escape.

  “I’ll get dressed and get going,” I say.

  He shakes his head and reaches for my hand.

  Then the word is out before I can stop my mouth running away with itself. “Tonight?” I say. “What about tonight?”

  He tugs at my hand, pulling me towards the bed next to him. “Amber, come and sit down for a minute will you?”

  I sit. Very aware I’m only wearing a towel - albeit a posh Egyptian cotton one which is thick and luxurious yet soft as silk. I wish I was dressed so I could make a quick escape once he’s told me whatever he needs to. Memories of last night flash through my mind making my cheeks grow hot. Well, if that’s it, we’re over, then at least our one night together was good.

  No, scrap that. It was exceptional. The earth definitely moved - and this time it had nothing to do with earth tremors or quarry explosions.

  “I have to leave,” he says, snapping me out of my reverie.

  “Oh?” I squeak. Casual voice. Casual voice I recite to myself silently. “Something personal or…” It isn’t working. My voice is still squeaky.

  “Work,” he answers immediately. “It’s work. I’m sorry,” he adds. “I thought we’d get more time together but something has happened and I’m needed right away on another assignment.”

  I clear my throat and try for non-squeaky voice again. “Where?”

  “Los Angeles. They want me on the flight out this evening.”

  “Oh, right. So, LA eh? Which celebrity are you solving a crime for this time?”

  “I can’t say,” he replies in a quiet voice, staring again at his phone and his hands.

  “If we were involved, would you be able to say then?”

  The light comes back into his eyes briefly and a smile creeps across his lips. “If we were involved? What on earth do you do with a guy before you say you’re involved with him?” he teases. “I think, after last night, we can safely say we’re involved.”

  “So this is it?” I say, staring at my feet which are red and blotchy from the piping hot power shower.

  “What? No.” He seems offended at my words.

  Did he really just say no, that it’s not over between us? “No?” I clarify.

  “Definitely not. I’m not giving up on you that easily.” He looks at me, properly, deep into my eyes. “Unless you don’t want us to...”

  “I want,” I reply. “I want us very much. But with your work you’re always in different places which will make a relationship tricky.”

  “But not impossible,” he finishes. “Look, this is probably a long shot but I’m going to ask anyway.”

  I swivel round on the bed to face him, careful to keep one hand clasped to my towel as I do so. Now would definitely not be a good time to flash him thanks to a slipped bath towel.

  “Ask what?” I say.

  He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a rush. “I have a proposal.”

  Proposal? My own breath catches in my throat. No, he can’t mean… Can he?

  “What kind of proposal?” I manage to mutter.

  Part of me really hopes it’s not that kind of proposal. Not only because we’ve only just got together and technically it’s too soon. I’m also thinking I don’t want to look back on my first marriage proposal and picture myself sitting on the edge of a bed in a towel with messy hair and blotchy feet.

  I remember a conversation between us up on the cliffs during our picnic. Charlie saying maybe my knight in shining armour had arrived. Did he mean himself? Is he my brave knight? In some ways, undoubtedly yes. In others, I’m not so sure.

  “I’ve enjoyed working with you these past few days,” he says. “I think you’ve got real potential with this investigation stuff. You question things. You’re great with people and getting them to open up to you, confide in you and trust you. You’re brave and stubborn and smart.”

  I nod. Unsure what to say and still wondering what he’s about to propose.

  “The CCIA,” he continues, “are always after support operatives. People who do exactly what you’ve been doing with this case but they’re on the payroll. I think you could be brilliant at the job. In fact, I know you would be. You’ve known Ennis for years and are used to being around famous people. You don’t come over all star-struck which is another big plus in this line of work. If you wanted to go for it and you do get accepted by the agency then you’ll be sent on an intensive training programme.”

  “You’re proposing I apply to work for the CCIA as a support officer?” I say, my throat feeling constricted. That’s his proposal? That we make our working relationship official?

  He nods, taking my hands in his. Well, one of them. The other is still holding tight to my towel.

  “Would I be trained to drive like you and use a gun?” I ask.

  His face breaks into a smile. That smile. I love that smile. Maybe it’s too soon to be in love with the man sitting beside me but I know I love that smile.

  “No, not yet anyway,” he says, stroking a thumb across the palm of my hand. “If you want to do that training later, convert from support officer to investigative officer, then yeah, you’ll get to do the other stuff.”

  “I confess a tiny part of me has wondered if something like this might be an option these past few days,” I say. “I’m surprised but I’ve loved every minute – well, maybe not the jumping off a quarry ledge bit – of being a part of this investigation with you. I finally got to put being nosy to good use. But, even if I applied and got accepted, do I want to leave Palstone and my life here? It’s a lot to think about.”

  My life is here. My friends. My family. My work. My little flat. My alter ego Madam Zamber.

  Charlie squeezes my hand and continues, as though he can read my thoughts. “I know you love this place and you might not fancy the idea of working for the CCIA and having to be away from home all the time.”

  “If I did and I was accepted,” I say. “Would I be assigned to work with you?”

  “I’d make sure you were.”

  He encloses my hand in his and squeezes in an encouraging way. “I know you can do this. It’s just if you want to do it or not. If you want to work with me. Work with the CCIA. It would mean everything in your life would change.”

  Do I want that? I don’t know what I want right at this moment. Except for the man sitting next to me. I’m certain I want him in my life.

  Charlie leans forward and peers at me as though he’s trying to read my mind again. “So, what do you think? Do you want to do this?”

  Just a few days ago I was sitting at my desk at the Palstone Courier making up horoscopes and wanting something exciting to happen for myself and all of the other Gemini’s out there. Was it really only a few days ago? So much has happened since then it seems like a lifetime ago. I stare into his deep blue eyes. “Right now, I don’t know.”

  The end…..

  or is it just the beginning?

  On Trial

  Amber Reed Mystery #1.5

  On Trial, An Amber Reed Mystery (1.5) © 2015 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.

  ON TRIAL

  A rock star wedding. A missing bride. A mystery to solve – and the clock is ticking.

  Rock musician Tayler is just hours away from saying ‘I do’ to his fiancée Poppy when she disappears from their luxury hotel.<
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  Amber, an amateur sleuth with ambitions to prove herself good enough to join the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency (CCIA) is soon trying to figure out what happened to the missing bride-to-be. Did she just get cold feet or is something sinister going on?

  Desperate to crack the case and get a step closer to her dream job with the CCIA, Amber finds her determination challenged at every turn. She needs to stay focused – harder than it seems when her charming but stubborn special agent boyfriend Charlie shows up causing a load of complications and distractions.

  Is the bride-to-be even still alive? Amber has just 24 hours to find Poppy or it's game over...

  CHAPTER ONE

  “You’re ready.”

  I struggle to catch my breath. Tucking a strand of sweaty strawberry blonde hair behind my ear I gasp, “You’re sure?”

  James, my agency trainer and mentor, nods and smiles. “Yep. I’m sure.”

  When I signed up for the chance to become a support officer for the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency (otherwise known as the CCIA) I knew my apprenticeship would be tough. I’ve fought to put aside the aching limbs, lack of sleep and mental demands of these past few months and keep my eyes firmly on the prize - my dream job.

  If I do manage to complete my apprenticeship, and still be alive at the end of all of this, then hopefully the agency will offer me a job as a support officer. Right now though, I’m wondering if James is right. Am I really ready for the next stage of my training? It doesn’t feel like it. Despite all the efforts to build up my fitness I’m still gasping and out of breath after facing the assault course from hell. I have to confess, I didn’t realise throwing myself into muddy ditches, climbing trees and being abandoned in the middle of nowhere with just a map, compass and bottle of water would be the type of assignments I’d be put through. I mean, I’m applying to be a support officer, not a special agent. But as James pointed out, if I get this job I will work alongside agents, and where they go in order to solve a case, then so do I.

  The steady beat of helicopter blades makes me shield my eyes and peer into the skies above the hundreds of acres of woodland, moor and hills which surround agency training camp.

  “That’s our lift,” James says, gesturing towards the helicopter now coming in to land in the field just across from us. “You’ve got ten minutes to pack your stuff and meet me back here. This will be your final challenge. Fail this one and you’ll be on your way home with no job.”

  Nerves and anxiety bubble up inside of me. This is it. My last chance to prove myself. My last training exercise. Whatever I am about to face will determine my life from this point on. “Only ten minutes? Where are we going anyway?” I shout above the sound of the sinister-looking black helicopter.

  “Yes, you’ve only got ten minutes, so you’d better get a move on,” James shouts back. “I’ll explain later where we’re going and why.”

  I sprint for my cell-like bedroom in the training block and throw clothes, toiletries and my How To Be A Support Officer course folder and notes into my suitcase. As I tug the case down the hallways, dashing back to meet James, my mind is whirling. What will my assignment be? Where will it be? What if I fail?

  James is waiting for me with his holdall slung over one shoulder. “OK, Amber. Let’s get this show on the road. Well, I suppose in this case I should say let’s get this case up in the air instead!” He laughs and nods towards the helicopter. “After you.”

  I step forward but stop as James tugs gently at my arm. “You can do this, Amber. Just remember everything you’ve learned these past few months.”

  “Everything?” I gulp. “That’s a lot of stuff to remember.”

  James winks then pushes me forward, placing a hand on top of my head to indicate I need to stay well below the blades of the helicopter which are now powering up, ready for take-off. Clambering into my seat I fasten my seatbelt. My stomach is in knots. I’ve never flown in a helicopter before and I’m feeling a tad nauseous as we lift off. The land drops away below us and we soar over the forests and hills, off to goodness knows where.

  “Hey,” a voice says to the right of me. “I’m Mitch.”

  Caught up in what’s going on, I hadn’t even registered the fact there are two other people sitting beside me. Some support officer I’ll make. I definitely need to get to grips with being more observant. I also need to remember absolutely everything I’ve had drilled into my mind during training as well. Not an easy task. If I fail this assignment everything I’ve gone through so far will be for nothing. Plus, I’ll never get to work with Charlie. I need to do this, and I need to do it right.

  Forcing down my anxiety I fix a smile on my face. “Hi, I’m Amber.”

  “Support officer trainee, right?” Mitch replies, looking me up and down, his gaze lingering a little too long in certain places and making me feel uncomfortable.

  I nod. “You?”

  “Recently qualified special agent status,” he says proudly. “This will be my first case taking the lead.”

  He’s well spoken and has a British aristocratic air about him. His sandy hair is short and tidy but not in an army way, more in a this-haircut-was-done-in-a-trendy-London-salon-and-cost-more-than-you-earn-in-a-month kind of way.

  “This is Esme,” he says, leaning back in his seat to reveal a woman I’d guess to be in her mid-twenties.

  “Hi!” she waves and grins at me. “Don’t you just love flying like this? It’s awesome.”

  Actually, no, I don’t, but there’s no way I’m about to admit as much. Instead I nod enthusiastically. “Yes, it’s amazing. Are you an agent too?”

  She laughs. “I will be one day, but for now I’m a support officer trainee like you.”

  Esme’s deathly pale skin and jet black hair combined with numerous piercings on her ears, nose and mouth give her a don’t-mess-with-me look. I’m glad we’re both on the same side for this assignment. Fortunately, we aren’t competing for one job because the agency will take us both on - providing we meet this challenge and come up to the required standards.

  “So, where are we going?” I ask them. “Do either of you know what case we will be working on?”

  Mitch shrugs. “No idea. Apparently James is going to fill us in on the details when we arrive. From which point we’ll have just twenty-four hours to solve the case.”

  Only twenty-four hours? That can’t be right, can it? I turn to James for confirmation of this piece of news. He simply nods and a sneaky smile snakes across his stubble-strewn face. James has been a terrific trainer and mentor. He’s firm but fair, always encouraging, but he doesn’t stand for any wimping out. He’s also a good friend of Charlie’s.

  I sit back and focus on the horizon, forcing myself to think positive thoughts. I will not allow the rising tide of nausea and anxiety to take hold. I will not let negativity and doubt worm its way into my head. I think of Charlie instead. My Charlie. We’ve been dating for several months. He’s off working on yet another case at the moment. He’s a CCIA special agent and right about now he will probably be coming to the aid of some celebrity somewhere around the globe. He’s prohibited from telling me the details of what he’s investigating because it’s against agency rules. In addition, as all of the CCIA’s clients are famous, everyone has a big fat privacy clause written into their contract. Between his investigation caseload and my time at CCIA training camp we haven’t seen much of each other lately.

  The helicopter suddenly dips alarmingly and it looks as though we’re heading in to land at our destination. My stomach performs several somersaults and I’m glad I didn’t have time for any lunch. I feel hot and cold at the same time. What have I got myself into? What will my last test be? I gulp and remind myself to stay calm. I can do this. I can do this.

  Can’t I?

  CHAPTER TWO

  We’re landing on the helipad of a large country house which looks vaguely familiar. It’s built of Cumbrian stone and slate and looks very impressive. Where have I seen it before?


  “This is the Roseby Hotel,” James says, unclipping his seatbelt before we’ve even touched down.

  The Roseby. Of course. That’s why it looks familiar. I’ve seen it in loads of magazines and on the TV. It’s a five star hotel frequented by the rich and famous. Nestling in acres of private grounds, it sits part way up a hill in the Lake District, a few miles from the tourist town of Delamere.

  Wow. I never thought I’d get to stay at the Roseby.

  James opens the door, jumps out and beckons for the rest of us to follow. I fumble with my seatbelt to gain a few precious seconds so that by the time I do step out the helicopter has actually landed. I scurry over to James remembering to stay low down so as not to tangle with the helicopter blades. Seconds later we’re joined by Esme and Mitch.

  “This way,” James instructs, leading us along a path towards the hotel.

  The cool wind swirls around us and the fresh air thankfully calms my stomach, helping to clear my head after the flight. I glance around. The leaves on the trees are showing distinct flashes of yellow and orange as autumn gets into its stride. Far below us, at the edge of the hotel’s grounds, I can make out a stretch of water in the dusky afternoon light. A few yachts are moored in a small marina and islands stud the lake. I dread to think how much a suite at the Roseby costs per night. Are we actually getting to stay in a luxury hotel whilst we do our training?

  “In here?” I ask, as the path curves around some shrubs and a slate-tiled and decidedly grand entrance comes into view.

  “No,” James replies. “That’s for the guests. We’re using the staff entrance round the back.”

  Ah, yes, of course we are.

  Our little group traipses around the edge of the building before eventually taking the steps down to the door the hotel’s employees use.

  “OK, you have rooms in the staff quarters. Go down the corridor on the right and take the three rooms at the far end. Sort yourselves out then meet me back here in fifteen minutes,” James instructs.