Amber Affairs

by Patricia Rice

  “We help each other. As long as there are no reporters here yet, you might as well see what I mean.” She started down the boardwalk toward Dinah’s café. Fee ran it now, but she hadn’t changed the name.

  “You need to video your local talent,” Josh said, scuffling along at her side, apparently inhabiting his own little world. “There’s money to be made online. It wouldn’t take long to find an audience for talent like we saw back there. Throw in the scenery, a few ghost stories, a wedding or two, and you have a storyline happening. The more followers you have, the more money you can make in sponsorships.”

  “I’ll let someone else fill you in on the rise and fall of the artists who built a commune up the hill back in the seventies. Wealth, fame, they had it all. But the mountain corrupts. We don’t know how or why. It all went bad and destroyed entire families. We’re just coming back from that. We don’t seek fame and fortune these days.” Steeling herself, Amber directed him into the café.

  “Power corrupts,” he said. “And greed. Not mountains.” He shut up when the café went silent at their entrance.

  Fiona emerged from the kitchen, waving menus. “Have a booth. Juice, right?” Once she had them seated, she leaned over and whispered, “Stranger on far end. Doesn’t smell quite fishy, but he’s not an honest person.”

  “I thought you decided fishy went with drug dealers. You don’t have a comparison for killers.” Amber handed back the menu, knowing Fee would bring her what she needed.

  Fee grimaced. “You’re right. Our last killer smelled fishy, but he associated with drug dealers. Still, our crooked county attorney also had an off odor like this guy. I’m calling it dishonest until I know better.” She hurried back to her kitchen.

  “She smells honesty? Isn’t that a little far-fetched?” Josh glanced over his shoulder in the direction indicated. “That’s just Brad Jones, Willa’s cameraman. He works hard, probably hung around for more shots, and he’s waiting for orders. I don’t know him well enough to know if he’s honest, but how many people are these days?”

  “Define honesty,” she countered. “Is acting honest? Fiction? If Harvey is really Isaac, is he being honest? But the crooked attorney Fee mentioned was a killer, so I’m going with her version of dishonesty as being bad.”

  “You can’t call a man a killer because you think he smells bad,” Josh protested.

  “No, and that’s why what we do can’t be explained. I couldn’t tell from reading your cards yesterday what would happen. I could just tell you it would be bad. We can only use our instincts to steer clear of dangerous people or keep an eye on them while evidence directs us one way or the other. And then it gets weirder.” Amber scooted over as Mariah approached.

  “Sam will have already told Mariah what little Walker knows,” Amber told him.

  Mariah was tall and carried her muscular weight with more grace than Amber. She was also seven months pregnant and took up more than her fair share of space. She held out a broad brown hand to Josh. “I’m called Mariah these days.”

  Josh took her hand and shook. “And I gather I would probably recognize your other name but you’d rather not go into that. I’m really liking this town.”

  Amber snickered. “You like Hillvale because it’s just like Hollywood. No one is who they say they are.”

  “It’s like a mystery book, where I get to guess who everyone is.” Josh accepted the juice Fee delivered to the table and swallowed half of it in one gulp. “I’m just not liking being one of the characters in the story. I’d rather be the author and go after the killer with a hatchet.”

  “That’s where Mariah comes in. She can research the characters and tell us who they really are.” Amber nodded her head at the back of the room. “We need to know more about Brad Jones, the cameraman at the counter.”

  “I’m only doing normal searches these days,” Mariah warned, rubbing her belly. “We don’t know the effect on the princess here.”

  “Do you have a name for her yet?” Josh asked.

  A man who asked after an unborn baby instead of following the logical question about normal was a dangerous charmer. Amber narrowed her eyes at him, but he seemed genuinely interested.

  “Cassandra already has the best name,” Mariah said with a laugh. “So we’re researching Keegan’s genealogy for a powerful one. His family tree is littered with gifted women. Amber explained about Lucys, didn’t she?”

  “She did. So you think there’s a genetic connection to Lucy gifts?” Totally focused on the conversation, Josh didn’t notice the gorgeous waitress placing a plate of burritos in front of him.

  “Beware, he will put us all into a film,” the waitress warned as she released the plate.

  Knowing the burrito deliverer didn’t care if Josh noticed her, Amber grinned at Sam, the police chief’s wife. Tall, slim, a natural platinum blond, the environmental scientist/waitress regarded Josh with sympathy. “We are devastated by your loss and will do everything in our power to find out what happened.”

  “Walker will be delighted to hear that,” Amber said wryly. “He can just sit back and wait for us to mumble magic spells.”

  “Feed her.” Sam pointed at the fruit and granola she’d set in front of Amber, then returned to working behind the counter.

  Mariah slid awkwardly from the booth. “Walker can provide the forensics we can’t. It all works out. I’ll take a little peek into the police files once I think there’s anything there to find. That’s a basic hack and doesn’t need any energy.”

  “This is Narnia, isn’t it?” Josh asked, picking at his burrito. “Pretty soon, the animals will be arriving to tell us their tales.”

  “Do you think C.S. Lewis visited Hillvale? Or maybe there are other towns like us elsewhere? Or maybe he just met some of Keegan’s relations. Keegan is from Scotland and has family all over the UK.” Amber popped a sweet strawberry in her mouth and savored it. Fruit was filled with sugar, and she shouldn’t indulge, but Fee kept reminding her that it was all about balance and some sugars were better than others. She needed the reassurance occasionally.

  Josh rubbed his head. “I’m still waiting for Willa to pop out of a closet. This is a nightmare, and I’m afraid it’s just beginning.”

  “Real life isn’t as much fun as make-believe, is it?” Amber said, understanding. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go home, where your friends are? What about your family? Are they still in Nevada?”

  “Mom is happy in her retirement cottage. She only met Willa once and wasn’t impressed, so I’ve kept them apart. My brothers graduated college and took off on their own careers. There’s nothing they can do to help. I feel better if I stay here. You’ve always been able to keep me stable. I need that right now.”

  She waved her spoon cynically. “I’ll be your teddy bear. I’m too big to fling across the room the way you do phones.”

  He chuckled and snapped her picture. “Not necessarily. I took up martial arts when I made my first film. But I never lose my temper with you, so you’re safe. I think I’ve calmed down enough to get a little rest. Thank you for holding my hand.”

  That sounded like a dismissal to her. She should be relieved. Once strangers started pouring into town, she’d rather hide in the shadows of her shop. “I’m here to hold your hand anytime you like. I’m sorry if you felt I abandoned you earlier. I had no idea that my mother or Dell wouldn’t tell you at once what I’d done.”

  “They tried, in their own limited way. I just didn’t believe them. That’s on me. You had a right to escape in any way you could, and I’m proud that you did.” Josh pushed away his half-eaten burrito. “And you’re probably right. You gave me the freedom to walk out on my own. So I’m guessing I owe you. Have dinner with me tonight? We can have it in my suite, out of sight of strangers. We can go swimming again.”

  “In my underwear? You liked that, did you?” Amber didn’t know whether to be appalled or thrilled at the idea.

  “I’ll have a suit delivered. Black? One piece?
Lots of frills?” He grinned at her.

  “Can it come down to my knees?” She shifted along the bench in an effort to escape the boyish grin that had tugged so hard on her heart all those years ago.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” He stood up and kissed her on the cheek.

  Damn, but she almost fell weeping into his arms thinking of all the lost years of friendship and the reason he needed her now.

  A nondescript burly man wearing a ball cap, Brad Jones, Willa’s cameraman, was paying his bill just as Josh stepped up to the register. Even after talking to Harvey and Val, he was having difficulty forming the words to say Willa was no more. It was a surreal experience having her vividly in mind from yesterday and gone from this earth today. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

  “Do you know who Willa left with yesterday?” Josh asked as a conversation starter.

  Brad shrugged and shoved his wallet back in his pocket. “Probably the wedding planner or Ernest. They just told me to finish up the shoot and take the truck back. Why?”

  They’d all arrived in different vehicles at different times, so that made sense with what Josh knew so far. He struggled for words as they left the café together. “Willa died last night. Send me yesterday’s photos and your invoice, and I’ll take care of it. I don’t know what else to tell you right now.”

  He couldn’t read the photographer’s eyes under the ball cap, but Josh thought he heard shock and sympathy as he accepted condolences. Becoming a hermit until this was over sounded better than ever, but he had a purpose now. He simply had to grit his teeth and keep moving forward.

  Rather than rest, he tracked down the police chief’s office. The imposing Chen Ling Walker occupied half the second floor of Hillvale’s antiquated City Hall. The chief’s office held one battered wooden desk, an old metal filing cabinet, and two sagging chairs that might once have adorned the lodge’s lobby—not exactly reassuring.

  “Park a horse outside, and this place might graduate to a one-horse town,” Josh said as he entered.

  “The horses are at the resort and have been known to come in handy. What can I do for you?” Hanging up his landline and punching his computer keyboard, the chief barely looked up to acknowledge him.

  A quick Google search had shown the chief was far more than a rural patrol officer. Walker owned one of the best detective agencies in the state and had resources at his disposal even the CHP didn’t possess—for a price.

  “Unless you tell me Willa was killed by a random stranger, I want to help.” Josh took one of the aging chairs. “I can provide a list of staff Willa brought with her and their contact numbers. They arrived separately, so I’m not certain which cars they brought, but I can make discreet inquiries.”

  “The sheriff is in charge of this case, since the initial report was made to them and not me.” Walker leaned back and folded his hands on his chest. “And anything you produce will be considered tainted until time of death is established and you clear your name with an alibi.”

  “Which isn’t happening since I was working by myself. But I have no motive. Willa’s death kills my project. I’m not so self-centered as to believe anyone would kill Willa to stop my film, but there might be other reasons someone didn’t want Willa to succeed.” Josh was flying by the seat of his pants here, but that produced some of his best plots.

  Walker picked up a pen and held it over a pad on his desk. “Spill.”

  “Does that mean she probably wasn’t killed by a stranger?” He wanted a fair trade of information. The Lucys could talk to spirits, but the real world required facts.

  Walker tapped his pen on the desk and eyed Josh warily. “She wasn’t raped. She was still wearing her diamond watch. Did you give her a ring?”

  “We hadn’t reached that stage of the production yet. She would have been wearing a gold chain with a weird iridescent pendant and half a dozen gold bracelets. No silver, she liked gold. I can describe the bracelets I gave her but she wasn’t necessarily wearing them.” He didn’t add that Willa had a closet full of jewelry and his contribution was chump change in comparison.

  Walker called up an image on his computer and turned the monitor so Josh could see. “This pendant?”

  “Yes. She always wore it unless she had an evening event requiring jewels. I think her father gave it to her. A thief would have taken the chain even if he didn’t know the pendant was an expensive antique.”

  “Would she have been carrying anything of less obvious value—film, documents?”

  “Everything of importance was accessible from Willa’s phone. I think her office scanned everything into the cloud so she could access it any time, any place, except here,” Josh added, frowning. “Maybe she left town early because she needed something private on her cell phone? She didn’t like connecting to public wi-fi.”

  “They didn’t find the phone with her,” Walker admitted, reading a file.

  “Then someone could be walking around with Willa’s entire life in their hands.” Josh rubbed his face, realizing the stupidity of what he’d just said. But Willa’s life was in that phone. “I doubt that her PIN number is unhackable or if the apps on her phone were adequately protected. So yeah, the phone might be more valuable than jewelry.”

  “We’re not picking up any signal from it, though. It’s either dead or turned off. Was she in any financial trouble?”

  “Good Lord, no. If anything, she plunged others into financial trouble.” Josh wasn’t any financial genius, but he thought about the power Willa wielded. He just couldn’t see a motive. “The woman owned substantial stock in half the film corporations in LA. For all I know, she owned Saudi Arabia. She didn’t touch her personal wealth for individual projects though. She leveraged other people’s debt.”

  “Including yours?”

  “Including mine, yes. If the project dies with her, I’ll have to sell my house. But it makes no sense to kill her because she borrowed money. All her investors were gambling she’d make their fortunes and provide them tickets to the premier and red carpet treatment for the awards. They’ll get bupkis without her.”

  “Did she have a will?”

  Josh grimaced. “I’m sure Daddy Dearest would have insisted. The company lawyer would know. He was drawing up our prenups.” He scrolled up the contact on his phone and handed it to Walker to write down.

  “You don’t like her father?”

  Josh had the feeling Walker’s flat expression concealed a sharp perceptiveness that could skewer him if he lied. He had no reason to lie. “Ivan the Terrible and I did not have a happy relationship, no. He makes Big Pictures, in all caps, the kind with huge, expensive talent. I make childish fantasies with cartoon characters and unknowns. I’m not serious enough for Ivan’s one and only child.”

  If Ivan thought Josh had anything to do with Willa’s death, he’d bring the power of an atomic bomb down on Josh’s head. It would all be over except the radiation poisoning.

  “You’ve filled a few holes,” Walker said without inflection. “Can you give me anyone with motivation? Did she have any enemies?”

  “Do you have a list of Hollywood luminaries? Starting with the stars, working down through producers and directors to the lowest food cart worker?” Josh shoved his hair off his forehead. “Willa did not consider it her mission in life to make friends. The people who worked with her respected her vision and obeyed her orders. She paid well and always succeeded. Mostly, she did not recognize their existence as more than tools.”

  “And if the tools didn’t adequately perform their function, she fired them?”

  Josh nodded. “Or just didn’t hire them again. She used a lot of contract workers. Employees are expensive. All the people up here yesterday were contract workers, except the VP of her corporation, Tessa English.”

  “Contract workers aren’t loyal.“ Walker tapped the keyboard a few more times, then looked up with what almost seemed to be sympathy. “She was lucky to have found someone like you to put up with her.”

/>   Josh slumped in his chair. “I’m not sure I’m any better, which is why we understood each other.”

  Seven

  Amber knew it was a waste of time to lay out a tarot for herself. Her psychic abilities weren’t needed to read her own mind. All she could hope was that the Other Side had a hand in which cards she turned up. She might do a simple diamond spread if she could determine what her conflict was, but she seemed to be inundated with ambivalence at the moment.

  The landline rang. She recognized her lawyer’s number and answered rather than tackle the impossible.

  “Zeke’s what now? Ten, eleven?” Alicia asked without preamble. At her cost per hour, she kept calls quick, knowing Amber couldn’t pay much.

  “Twelve. I want guardianship. Can we go after the rest of the money if I get it?” Amber sent prayers to the Universe.

  “You think there is any money left?” Alicia asked cynically. “Wouldn’t your mother have bought a mansion if she had cash?”

  “I’d hoped you could squeeze your fees out of her like last time,” Amber said, collapsing into her nest chair. “Tell me it will be an easy job, and I’ll borrow the money.” That was optimistic. Banks didn’t loan money to tarot shops, she was pretty sure.

  “Guardianship is never easy if the other party fights it. Let me see what I can turn up on her, and we’ll go from there. I’d advise getting him in your house before she learns your plans though. She could take him and run.”

  “Shoot sugar, I hadn’t thought of that. I wanted him to finish school. Can we keep quiet another week?”

  “She’ll not hear a peep from me. But pin down an exit and swoop him out of there. If she’s running out of money, things could turn ugly. If I remember, he’s a pretty kid. Dell is involved in some pretty raunchy stuff these days.”

  That’s what Amber had feared. Their former producer and director was a voyeur partial to pretty boys. He’d been walking a fine line when she’d left. She didn’t know if he’d crossed it since. Other kids had parents to protect them. Zeke didn’t, which made him even more vulnerable than she had been. She’d thought being a girl had made her safe. It hadn’t.