“Naturally, you would be.”
“Well, when I eventually got to speak to Charlie about it I got a bit grumpy and accused him of actually being involved with Delilah. He got grumpy as well and said he was fed up with me not trusting him. He said, especially with the line of work we’re in, all the travelling, sometimes being on different cases from each other, even in different countries, trust was paramount.”
Martha nods in agreement. “He’s right.”
“But I struggle to believe that somebody like Charlie could be happy with somebody like me.”
“The old self esteem issues rearing their heads again, huh?” Getting to her feet she adds, “I know where you’re coming from regarding your guy working with stunning models and actresses and all that side of things. It can test your relationships. Of course it does. But, at the same time, I think you need to understand what Charlie sees in you. You’re pretty, your hair colour is to die for, and you’ve got that whole English peach complexion thing going on. Guys think you’re beautiful and sexy and smart.”
I open my mouth to protest but she holds a hand up to silence me. “You were in a relationship with one sexy special agent, and another one wants to be in a relationship with you. How can you possibly still think you’re some Plain Jane that men don’t even look twice at?”
“But…”
“He’s so proud of you,” Martha interrupts. “You passing your training and getting accepted to work with the agency.”
“He said that?”
“Yeah, when I first arrived here I checked who else would be working this case and he said you were on your way over. Then he told me about Jack and reluctantly admitted about Dan being part of the team as well. He said how you’d done really well solving the case he’d been pulled off in France.”
My heart flickers at the thought of Charlie being proud of me.
“Look, if you want some help with building your self-esteem and confidence then I’m your go-to woman.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.” She nods. “Now, I’m going to crack on with my background checks and financial stuff. Get some sleep.” She pauses in the doorway. “You will talk to Charlie though, right?”
I switch off the lights and snuggle down between the sheets, purposefully ignoring her.
I wake up in the middle of the night. Ahhh… stupid jetlag. I listen for any sounds suggesting Martha might be asleep. Then I realise a light is still on in the living area, filtering around the edges of the bedroom door. Martha must be burning the midnight oil on the investigation. Switching on the light I rummage around in my still unpacked suitcase and pull on some pyjama bottoms and a sweatshirt, along with some thick snuggly socks. My fingers are on the door handle when I notice I can hear voices. Plural. Who is chatting with Martha at this time of night? I stay where I am and listen.
CHAPTER FIVE
“So, why did you do it?” Martha asks.
“Because I like her and she deserves better than him,” a male voice replies.
A voice I recognise. It’s Dan.
“Oh, and you’re better for her than Charlie, are you?”
“Look, she clearly wasn’t happy with him. He’s always too busy with assignments. He obviously thinks his career with the agency is more important than his relationship with Amber. Why else would he let that diva declare to all and sundry that she’s with Charlie? Because it helped with the case he was working on. Did he even stop to think about how it would affect Amber? No, he didn’t. Did she tell you that he didn’t even explain what was going on or warn her what was about to happen? First she knew was seeing him hand-in-hand with Delilah in a French newspaper. Git.”
Martha’s exasperated voice says, “So, what did you go and do, huh? Kiss her! Yeah, that’s really going to help matters.”
“I didn’t kiss her to confuse the issue or in some attempt to get back at Charlie because of the Sarah business. I kissed Amber because I wanted to kiss her and, in my defence, not that I need any, I’m pretty sure she wanted to kiss me too. She needs a guy who can understand her and pull out the romantic gestures every now and then. I bet Charlie Boy would have to look up what romance means in the dictionary.”
“Dan, I’m warning you, stay out of this. Let the two of them figure things out and then…”
I’ve heard enough. Pulling on a robe, I yank the door open and storm into the living room. “And how do you know what I need?” I demand of Dan, who jumps to his feet, a flicker of guilt on his face, which is swiftly replaced by a cheeky grin.
“Hey, I was just saying…” he begins.
“Talking about me behind my back, that’s what you were doing, Dan Stone!”
Martha gets up from the sofa, looking as though she’s prepared to forcibly break things up between us if they get out of hand. “Guys, calm down.”
Dan holds both hands up in a placating gesture. “I care about you, Amber. I’m just trying to help.”
“And so am I,” Martha chips in.
Throwing my hands up in the air in frustration, I head for the kitchen to make a hot drink. Getting involved with somebody you work with is a seriously bad idea. What was I thinking when I went for this job with the agency, knowing I’d be working with Charlie? Well, for one thing, I genuinely wanted this job, I enjoy the challenge of it. It wasn’t about the chance to work alongside my boyfriend. I suppose I thought working with Charlie would be easier than it turned out to be though.
“What are you doing up anyway?” Martha adds. “I thought you were exhausted. It’s barely ten at night.”
“Which makes it six in the morning on UK time,” I snap, then feel awful. “Sorry. It’s this jetlag. I’m all over the place.” Turning to Dan I add, “How come you’re not affected?”
He shrugs. “Used to lots of travel and different time zones, I guess. Plus, some people say it’s all in the mind. If you don’t give in to it, then you adjust faster and slot straight in with your new time zone. So if you…”
I glare at him as I wait for the kettle to boil.
“Never mind,” he says, flopping back on the sofa.
“OK, new rules,” Martha announces in the tone of voice parents use when chastising young children. “No relationship talk. From now on, it’s strictly stuff about the investigation. Right?”
I nod, and so does Dan.
“OK, good. Now, if you’re awake, Amber, we may as well update you on the latest regarding the case.”
“Anybody else want a drink first?” I ask.
“No thanks,” Martha says, already gathering together her notes.
“Please,” Dan says, wandering into the kitchen. “Coffee. You know how I like it, right?”
The playful innuendo in his voice snaps my senses onto full alert. With a glance towards Martha, who has her back to us, he leans in close. “This thing between us, it isn’t over. I know it. You know it. Once Charlie is well and truly off your radar, then we can pick up where we left off,” he whispers into my ear. I step away from him. I don’t need Dan doing things like that and confusing me even more. I’m here to help solve this crime and to get Charlie back. Dan is nothing more than a colleague.
“What are you two doing?” Martha demands after turning round and spotting us in the kitchen. She raises an eyebrow questioningly. “You wouldn’t be breaking the new rule already, now would you?”
Dan grabs the coffee I’ve just made him and winks at me before heading back into the living room and a waiting Martha. “Of course not,” he says to her, pasting an innocent look on his face. Well, it’s sort-of innocent. I don’t think Dan is capable of coming across as innocent.
Sitting on the opposite settee to Dan I curl my feet beneath me and sip my drink. “So, what is the latest, then?”
“Shouldn’t we get Jack and Charlie in here too?” Martha checks, reaching for her phone. “I’ll just text them. Won’t take a minute.”
“I’ll just get properly dressed.” In the bedroom, I unzip my case and pull out some
jeans and a sweater. Once I’m changed, I find my brush, tidy up my hair and pull it back into a neat ponytail. I peer at my pale face in the mirror. Do I have time to apply some blusher and lip gloss? Through the door in the other room, I can hear Jack and Charlie arrive. I pause, lip gloss in hand. What am I doing? I didn’t think twice about Dan seeing me looking a mess and yet I’m frantically getting dressed and made up for Charlie. It doesn’t make sense when I think of all the times Charlie has seen me with bed hair and zero makeup. My stomach clenches. That was when things were wonderful between us. Now things are… well, I’m not sure what they are at the moment.
Martha appears. “Amber? What are you doing in here? We’re all waiting for you.”
Over her shoulder, I spot Charlie watching me. I put down the lip gloss and force a smile. “Be right there.”
I slide onto one of the sofas and Dan sits down next to me. Close. Very close. I can’t shuffle away and put some space between us without it looking awkward and obvious.
“Feeling better now, Amber?” Jack asks amiably as he sits on the other end of the sofa with a far more respectable distance between us. “Got the better of the jetlag?”
“I think the jetlag is still winning, but I’m trying my best.”
Charlie sits on the sofa opposite and Martha takes a seat next to him. “Right then. Now that Amber is back in the land of the living, Charlie will update us all on the case.”
Charlie leads forward, elbows on his knees. I notice he’s changed into black tracksuit bottoms and a T-Shirt. He looks tired. There’s silence in the room for a moment and then he pushes both hands through his hair, takes a breath and starts talking. “I want to gather together our info so far. The clock is ticking and I know none of us wants another murder added to this case, so we have to figure out what the motive is for these murders, and who is likely to have cause to murder three people.”
Beside me, Dan fidgets in his seat and manages to get even closer to me. I hold my breath and try to inch my right arm and leg away from him as much as I can without moving my position on the sofa.
“So far we don’t even have a link for these murders other than the fact each victim was an actor on North Shores,” Charlie continues firmly. “We have got to dig deeper and get a proper list of suspects in place.”
“We can’t interview every person on the set, every friend, relative or person the victims knew, went out with or purchased coffee from at the local store,” Dan challenges. “That would take forever, and as you just pointed out, we don’t have the luxury of that amount of time.”
Charlie glowers at him. “That’s why the agency allocated so many of us to this case, to do whatever is required. If we have to interview every one, we will,” he says, a determined look on his face.
Dan shrugs with a ‘you’re being unreasonable and unrealistic’ expression on his face, but doesn’t say anything else.
“We don’t even have any proper suspects,” Charlie snaps. “It’s not good enough. We all need to dig deeper and work harder. By this time tomorrow I want a list of suspects at the very least.”
“I haven’t spotted any irregularities on the financial side of things yet,” Martha says, sounding like teacher’s pet, her reports all piled neatly in front of her, ready to present to Charlie. “But I’m going to stay up all night and keep going through things. Oh, and there was nothing useful on the note, either. Maybe whoever is leaving them can’t spell but they’re clever enough to remember to slip on some gloves when they handle the paper.”
Charlie nods his thanks. “Any new input from the rest of you?”
Dan crosses his long legs and settles back against the cushions. “Yeah. I’ve got something. I had a bit of a wander around and chat with some behind the scenes guys at the house where they film earlier.”
So that’s where he disappeared off to when the rest of us were in interviewing Denver and Nicole.
“The gossips reckon there have been rumours about a property developer wanting to buy the filming house,” he says. “It’s prime waterfront property and worth a fortune, so it makes sense. The production company refuse to sell though, despite the company’s best attempts. The developers are called Acton, Burrell and Windsor. Head honcho is Peter Acton. I called a few contacts and discovered he’s been involved in several dodgy property deals over the years. He’s also made himself and his backers into millionaires several times over. I did some checks and found out ten of the waterfront properties in that area have changed hands in the past twelve months.”
“All purchased by this Acton guy’s company?” Jack asks.
“No,” Dan replies. “They’ve been purchased by three different companies but if you dig deep enough,” he shoots a cheeky look at Charlie, “and look hard enough, then you discover that…”
“They all lead back to Acton, Burrell and Windsor,” Charlie cuts him off.
Dan nods. “So, OK, three murders is seriously heavy-armed persuasion tactics but it’s damaging the show’s reputation bigtime, meaning an expensive damage limitation PR exercise is required and it’s messing up the filming, all of which is costing the production company a lot of money.”
“And draining their financial resources is a good way to try and force them into a property sale,” I finish.
“Got it in one,” Dan says. “Want me to go interview this guy tomorrow?” He addresses the question at Charlie, who nods his agreement.
“Anybody else got anything on the case to share?” Charlie asks, looking at each of us in turn. We all shake our heads. “OK,” he sighs. “Let’s all get some sleep. I want an early start for everyone tomorrow morning. We’ve a lot of work to do. I want some results on this within twenty-four hours. We’ve wasted too much time already.”
“What about the information from Becca Winters?” I ask Charlie. “Did you have chance to check with the local police about what she said she saw? Could it be a possibility?”
Charlie sighs. “They think not, but are going to send a couple of policewomen round to interview her again and try to suss out what happened at the townhouses that night. We’ll have to see what they come up with. For now, we’ve got to press on with the rest of the investigation.”
Jack and Dan head for the door and Martha follows close behind, chattering away to them. I’m still on the sofa and Charlie is still sitting opposite me. Martha’s right, he does look grumpy. We can’t go on like this. Before I can chicken out I force myself to say, “Charlie, have you got a minute?”
The surprise in his eyes is obvious. Martha and the others are still talking near the door, so I get to my feet and lean my head towards the bedroom. “In there?”
Now he looks even more surprised. We’re on a break, uncomfortable in each other’s company, yet here I am inviting him to my bedroom. Well, strictly speaking it’s Martha’s room too, but hopefully she’ll have the sense and compassion to leave us alone for a while to talk. I close the door behind us and am sure I can hear the fierce whispers of my colleagues in the living room as they realise Charlie and I have disappeared together, to a bedroom of all places.
CHAPTER SIX
Attempting a joke to break the ice I say, “Martha says we need to talk because she’s fed up with you being so grumpy all the time and blames me.”
He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even speak. He just sits down on the edge of my bed as I slide onto a dressing table stool across the room from him.
I clear my throat and the words tumble out of me in a rush. “Charlie, are we still on a temporary break or are we broken up for good?” There. I said it. Somebody needed to. Now, I’m just dreading his reply.
“I don’t know,” he eventually says.
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.” He runs a hand over the stubble on his cheeks. “I wish I had an answer. I wish I could say we’re going to be fine.”
“I understand.” I don’t, but I need to say something.
He gets to his feet. “I should probably go.”
“It
’s not like you to give up.” Inside I’m aching with a chaotic jumble of emotions, from frustration and confusion, to fear and love. I’m fighting back questions I should ask but am too scared to.
Charlie stops and spins round, his expression closed off. “I’m not giving up, it’s just that right now, I haven’t figured how we might be able to get around this mess.”
I leap to my feet. “Mess? You mean my lack of trust and your lack of emotion, combined with both of our stubbornness.”
He frowns. “Lack of emotion?”
Oh sugar. What have I said?
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demands.
“Nothing,” I mumble, losing my nerve. If Charlie had been more open about his feelings for me then maybe I wouldn’t have felt so insecure about our relationship. If he’d just once said he loved me, ideally right after I’d told him I loved him, then maybe things wouldn’t have got so bent out of shape when his picture with Diva Delilah had appeared in newspapers across the globe.
“No, come on, Amber,” he challenges. “If you want to accuse me of more stuff, go right ahead. For starters, according to you I’m an unfaithful ex-boyfriend who doesn’t think twice about you when I’m away working a case. Now, you’re saying I’m incapable of showing emotion for you.”
“No,” I flounder. “I didn’t mean…”
“Yeah, you did. So, I’m cold, selfish, stubborn and unfeeling.” He counts my criticisms of him off on his fingers. “Anything else?” Fury radiates off him and bounces around the room. I gulp. I’m making matters worse. “Anything else?” he repeats.
I shake my head. Then my own frustrations bubble up and burst out. “Yes!” I find myself yelling. What? What on earth am I doing? This is all going horribly wrong but I need to say this and, by the expression on his face, I don’t think things can get much worse, so I may as well ask the question now. “What about you and Sarah?”
He frowns and looks momentarily confused. “Is this some other woman I’m being accused of seeing behind your back? Sarah who?”
Past Perfect: A Fun and Flirty Romantic Mystery (Amber Reed Mystery Book 4) Page 7
