And The Earth Moved: Romantic Comedy Cozy Mystery (Amber Reed CCIA Mystery Book 1) (12 page)

Chapter Sixteen

As we wait for the gates to open after Charlie has pressed the remote control he says, “So come on then, what’s up?”

“Sorry?” I reply, lost in my thoughts.

“What’s wrong? You look distracted and annoyed.”

I decide not to tell him about the way Ennis behaved or my fears about still being taken off the case. “It’s just, well, I think Siobhan was about to say something and then you and Ennis walked back in the kitchen and she clamped up. When we were leaving I thought she looked relieved.”

“Happy she hadn’t said what she was about to you mean?”

I nod. “Yeah, something like that.”

“What were you guys talking about?”

“Joel. She was saying how much trouble he caused and then she started to say, you know he even… and then you came in.”

Charlie stops the car where the driveway meets the lane to check for traffic. “Perfect. Now we need to try to get her alone and find out what else she can tell us about Joel. Up for that?”

“Me?”

He slips the car into first and we head down the lane back towards the village. “Yeah, figure there’s more chance of her being tempted to confide in you than me.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I bet you could charm it out of her. A smile here, a bit of flirting there.”

“Yeah, that would go down really well with the client wouldn’t it? Ennis finds me trying to chat up his girlfriend.” He gives me a pointed look and I know he’s picked up on Ennis not being happy about finding me at the guest house this morning.

I sigh. “OK, I’ll do it. Not sure when or where though.”

Charlie’s phone buzzes and he nods to where it’s sitting in the cubby hole near the gearstick. “Text message. Would you check it for me? Could be the guys getting back to me on the number plate search.”

I pick up the phone and read the message. “Seems the car is registered to a woman called Candice Thorpe. They’ve sent all her details.”

“Bingo!” says Charlie, slapping a hand on the steering wheel. He puts on his sunglasses as the sun bursts through the clouds above the moor.

I’ve just finished my shift at the pub and am waiting in the car park for Charlie. If anyone sees us we are, as far as they’re concerned, heading out on a date. His 4x4 pulls up and I climb inside.

“Hi,” I say, pulling on my seatbelt whilst removing a copy of the local paper from the passenger seat and flinging it into the foot well.

“Hey,” Charlie smiles and hands me an envelope.

“What’s this?”

“The research guys did their usual fantastic job and tracked down more info on Joel’s ex. Well,” he amends, probably in light of the number of women Joel has been involved with, “the ex we’re interested in anyway, who also happens to be his most recent one.”

I open the envelope and pull out the contents. Photos of a blonde woman, hair down to her waist, dressed in the tiniest dress imaginable. She’s standing outside a nightclub and appears to be having a very public row with Joel. People are crowded all around them including lots of men with cameras who I presume are the paparazzi guys. I remember seeing this story in the gossip mags a month or so ago.

“Candice Thorpe,” Charlie says by way of an unnecessary explanation as he swings the 4x4 out of the pub car park and on to the road out of Palstone. “Better known as Candi to her friends. And we are heading over to pay her a visit right now.”

“She can’t be local, it’s late and I’m exhausted,” I grumble. Dashing between two jobs and this investigation, much as I want to do it, is starting to take its toll. “Do we have to do this now?”

“Yes, we do. She lives in Manchester. It won’t take us long to get there. I lived in Manchester for years and I know the area her address is in. Pretty dodgy.”

“Oh, so you frequent dodgy parts of Manchester on a regular basis do you?” I say, spotting the bottle of mineral water propped in one of the cubby holes on the dashboard and reaching for it.

“Not just Manchester,” he says with a chuckle. Then, glancing across at me, he adds, “Goes with the territory. All part of the job.”

He changes gear and then gestures to the newspaper which is now under my feet. “Great horoscope in there today by the way. Scarily accurate.”

Ah.

I wrote the horoscopes for The Palstone Courier in something of a rush the other day. For most of them I’d just plucked ideas out of nowhere but I’d paid special attention to the ones for Gemini (i.e. me) and Scorpio (i.e. Charlie). 

I don’t even need to pick the paper up to scan the details. I can remember exactly what those zodiac signs say. For Scorpio it said,
Be sure to pay special attention to a new female in your life this week. She has great wisdom and much to offer. Something you’re pretending might turn out to be true
(ahem). For Gemini I said,
You’ll enjoy spending time with someone who is tall, dark and handsome. He’s fun but could also be trouble. Be on your guard.

“Madam Zamber has quite a gift doesn’t she?” he says.

I lean back in the passenger seat and ignore him, figuring it’s the safest option right now. I close my eyes, as Charlie chuckles next to me. I have forty minutes or so to try to catch a nap before we arrive in Candi’s neighbourhood.

Next thing I know I’m being shaken awake by an insistent hand on my thigh. For a moment I’m not sure where I am or who I’m with. Then I remember.

“We’re here,” Charlie says.

I blink and look around me. One side of the road is a row of terraced houses which look close to derelict. On the other side is a block of flats.

Pushing myself upright in the seat I take another gulp of water from the bottle on the dashboard and try to wake up properly.

“What next? Which house is it? Or is it one of the flats?” I say.

“The house with the dustbin outside,” Charlie says.

I nod. “So what do we do? Go over there and knock on the door?”

Just as I release my seatbelt I spot a movement across the road. A woman - tall, ridiculously thin, long blonde hair and dressed to the nines – closes and locks the door on the house and walks down the path away from us. It’s her.

“Looks like she’s heading out,” Charlie says, leaning back in his seat. “Let’s see where she’s off to shall we?”

“She’ll notice if we follow in the car,” I say.

“But if we walk and she’s being picked up down at the end of the street or something we’ll lose her,” Charlie replies.

“So what do we do?”

“Stay here for a minute or so. We can see if she waits down near the main road or if she carries on walking. Then we’ll decide what we do.”

When she reaches the main road she doesn’t show any sign of slowing down and I can’t help wondering how she’s managing to walk quite so speedily in those gold high heels.

“Right, out of the car, we’ll follow on foot,” Charlie says decisively.

Great. Just what I didn’t want. Pursuing a woman through some dangerous streets in the middle of the night. I hope Charlie has his CCIA ID badge on him because if we get picked up for loitering or something equally suspicious then we’re going to need it. 

Of course, there’s always the chance the police don’t patrol this area because it’s
too
rough in which case I should probably switch to the equally worrying scenario of us getting robbed at knife point.

Mmm…wonder if I can persuade Charlie to let me stay in the car?

We hurry along the street, judging the distance just right so that we can keep her in sight but not so close that she might hear us or sense she’s being followed. As we head towards an industrial estate on the next street she slows her pace. Is she looking for someone or something? Has she heard or spotted us somehow?

As we slow our own pace to match hers Charlie suddenly grabs my hand. It all happens in a split second. From the corner of my eye I see Candi starting to turn in our direction. The next thing I know I’m being pressed up against the side of a building and Charlie is kissing my neck. For a moment I’m taken aback, inhaling the fresh citrusy smell of his shower gel, feeling the rasp of his stubble against my skin. My heart is pounding even faster than it was before from our clandestine following of Candi through town.

And then, with a sinking heart, I realise this is our cover.

He suspected Candi was about to turn and see us so he plunged us into couple-making-out-against-the-wall mode as our reason for being out on the streets at this time of night.

Just over the edge of Charlie’s shoulder, with my right eye only, I can see Candi. She’s seen us too but she seems to be perfectly happy to find two people she thought might be up to no good following her, instead up to an entirely different kind of no good.

Charlie is doing something delicious with his tongue on the sensitive skin behind my ear. I play along, shoving one hand up inside his jacket and the other down into the back pocket of his jeans. He really is good at this pretending to be my boyfriend stuff. Obviously he’s heavily into authenticity and paying attention to the details.

Candi turns back and continues on her way.

“Coast clear yet?” Charlie whispers in my ear.

He can’t see Candi, not with his face buried in my neck. A wicked thought creeps into my head. 

“Not yet,” I whisper back and close my eyes, enjoying the sensation as he starts with the necking again.

I wonder how long I can convince him we need to stay pressed up against each other and the wall like this.

Chapter Seventeen

Sadly, I think Charlie might have cottoned on to my little game. I feel him ease himself away from me and turn his head, shielding his face from full view with one of his arms which is still braced against the wall above me. “She’s gone,” he says.

“Only just,” I mumble as Charlie steps completely away from me. I feel my body immediately craving his warmth. His touch. I clear my throat and try to get my head back on following Candi and not on Charlie and what moments ago he was doing with his tongue.

He tilts his head and a cheeky smile quirks the corners of his mouth.

Sugar. He knows.

“Where did she go?” he asks, immediately switching back into CCIA mode. “I assume you were keeping an eye on her whilst I was playing the horny boyfriend?”

Playing the horny boyfriend.
Yes, remember that, I chastise myself. It was all for show. He’s
pretending.

“Into that building with the green shutters,” I reply, straightening my jacket. “The doors were unlocked.”

Charlie slips a hand into mine, leading me around the side of the building where we clamber up a bank of ground that looks as though it was once grass landscaping but is now mostly weeds and litter. There’s another, much smaller, door in the corner of the building. Charlie lets go of my hand now that I’ve finished climbing up the bank, and tries the door handle. It opens.

“Weird,” I whisper. “You’d think people would have stuff locked up tight in an area like this.”

“Not necessarily,” he replies, also in a whisper. “Sometimes people get so fed up with their premises or cars being broken into all the time that they just leave them unlocked. Less damage that way.”

“Doesn’t that invalidate their insurance or something?”

“Yep but usually by that stage they’ve made so many claims on their insurance their excess payments are sky-high and it’s not worth making a claim anyway.”

He raises a finger to his lips to end our bizarre little chat about insurance policies. I try to calm my nerves and wipe my clammy palms down my jeans as I follow him inside the building.

We’re up above the floor area where Candi entered the building now, walking along a corridor with a couple of offices and a metal balcony where we can see the main work area below us. The place looks as though it’s some kind of car repair or re-spray business. There’s definitely a petrol and paint smell lingering in the air.

Charlie and I crouch silently behind some boxes which afford us a bit of cover but allow us to still see what’s going on down on the floor below.

Candi is talking to two men. One, the older of the two, looks like a ZZ Top heavy metal reject with his long beard and hair. The other, surprisingly, looks quite smart. He’s wearing black trousers and a shirt and seems to be carrying an iPad. He’s standing partly in the shadows though so I can’t see his face properly.

From up here we can’t make out what they’re saying, especially as they seem to be talking in not much more than a whisper themselves.

The smart guy starts pointing aggressively at Candi and I feel a flicker of concern for her safety. She must know what she’s doing though surely? You don’t go walking around places like this in the middle of the night, arranging to meet men in a garage, if you don’t know the men are safe or are sure you know how to handle yourself.

Candi is standing her ground, pointing and gesturing right back at the men. The older guy shakes his head and turns his back, walking away. The younger one hits him on the arm and he spins round. 

The pointing, pushing and shoving develops into a full-blown fight, and Candi - is she crazy or what? - gets herself right in the middle of it. Younger guy pushes her out of the way and she falls against some machinery, stumbling to the floor.

I dart a quick look at Charlie, silently asking the question
What do we do
? My attention is caught again by a yelp as Candi, back on her feet, slaps smart guy hard across the face.  He launches himself at her, grabbing her hands behind her back.

I try to swallow but my mouth is too dry. My arms have gone all goose-bumpy and I’m scared witless.

Charlie leans towards me and hisses, “Get out now.”

“What?” I look at him in confusion.

He gestures towards the door. “Out. Now.  Hide behind the dumpster at the back of the building. Stay there till I fetch you.”

There are more shouts from below. I scramble to my feet, my legs feeling all shaky, and head for the door. As I slip through it I risk a look back and see Charlie haul one of the boxes from the pile on the corridor and heave it off the balcony. There are more shouts and a scream as the box and its contents – something metallic by the sound of it - hits the floor thirty feet below.

I realise Charlie’s creating a distraction to save Candi getting herself in too much trouble with the guys and to try to put an end to the rapidly escalating fight.

Outside I half scramble and half fall down the bank and head for the overflowing metal skip. I slither to a halt behind the smelly dumpster and curl into a ball as I hear what sounds suspiciously like gun-shots coming from the garage. I think my shoes are in some kind of long discarded take-out food judging by the foul odour permeating my nostrils, but I daren’t look down and check. Instead I try to curl myself up even tighter as though I can magically make myself invisible. Trying to get my breathing under control I silently pray that Charlie is OK. Did I imagine the sounds of gunfire? If not, then who was doing the shooting? Did anyone actually get shot and hurt? I hold my breath and listen. No more gun shots echo through the night but there is some muffled shouting.

Please let Charlie be OK. Please.

There’s a screeching metal sound, which I quickly realise is one of the large metal doors being pushed fully open, then there’s the thud of several much smaller doors slamming and a car revving up.

Where’s Charlie?

The next second he appears from the door at the side of the building, leaps from the top of the grass bank and does one of these fancy forward-roll landing things. Up on one knee he raises his right hand, and it’s then that I notice he has a gun.