And The Earth Moved: Romantic Comedy Cozy Mystery (Amber Reed CCIA Mystery Book 1) (15 page)

Chapter Twenty

I lower myself onto a rock next to Charlie. It’s bright, breezy and cool and I have a complete day off from the paper though I’m working later at the pub. Charlie and I are up on the moors. I’m loving the chance to get my hiking boots on but this isn’t a pleasure jaunt, it’s part of the investigation. I suppose when you work for the CCIA you work every day until the case is solved. There’s no nine to five hours or weekends off.

“So what exactly are we looking for?” I ask, leaning in closer to peer at the map in his hands

“See these?” He points to red lines zigzagging their way around the area. “Official footpath routes which work their way around much of the quarry boundary. They’re overseen by the local authority. It’s illegal to try to block or close them off in any way so the guys at the quarry can’t stop people walking them. Even though some of the routes must allow a pretty good view down into the quarry. We’re going to walk these routes and see if we can find the best vantage point of the quarry, then we can return to the chosen spot under cover of darkness tonight and see if we can find out what’s going on here.”

Charlie is in one of those expensive brand waterproof jackets and dark jeans, looking completely at ease with his surroundings, checking the map again, consulting a compass.

“OK, let’s get going,” he says.

I get to my feet and hoist my rucksack into place following Charlie as he climbs a stile and strides purposefully off across a field.

Pausing to pull my sunglasses from my coat pocket I catch my breath at the same time. Does Charlie have to walk quite so fast? He looks as though he’s on an army route march not a gentle countryside stroll. I know we’re here on a bit of a recce to find a suitable spot for our night time surveillance but even so.

“Out of breath already?” he teases as he stands on top of yet another stile. One foot either side of the wooden steps.

“No,” I reply indignantly, slipping my sunglasses on. “Not at all.”

He holds out a hand to help me up onto the steps of the stile. Was that a little tingle of something? A spark between us? No, probably just wishful thinking, my overactive imagination getting carried away with itself again.

Pretend relationship, remember?

“How many miles of footpaths do we have to tramp around?” I say as I jump to the ground on the other side of the stile and Charlie lets go of my hand.

A smile crooks the side of his mouth. “I figure there’s around ten or so miles of paths around the whole of the quarry perimeter but you’ll be glad to know we don’t need to do them all today.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

This time, as we set off across yet another field, he walks at a slower pace so that we’re side my side. The light breeze has got up and is ruffling the front of his hair. He hasn’t shaved today either and the heavy stubble on his cheeks suits him.

“Hang on a sec.” I haul my bag off my shoulders and pull out a baseball cap.

“It is getting a bit breezy up here.” He nods towards the swaying trees. “We’re getting near the top of this hill now. Over the other side we should see the quarry.”

I pull a bottle of water from my bag and take a gulp before offering the bottle to Charlie. He takes it, drinks a little and then hands it back with a smile of thanks.
That
smile. Again. Its effect isn’t wearing off. It still makes me feel all hot and flustered. It’s a lopsided smile, cute, friendly.

Dangerously sexy.

Across to our right are the standing stones, proud and dark against the blue sky.

“Want to do a detour?” Charlie asks, nodding towards the stones.

“Sure.”

Minutes later we’re circling the stones. It’s years since I’ve been up here. I’d forgotten how big and impressive they are. Nine stones, each over seven foot high, stand in a circle as though they are guarding the hilltop and moorland. They always seem a little forbidding from a distance but close to they look more than creepy and with the sun disappearing behind the clouds and the wind whistling across the edge of the moor, the whole place has a distinct horror movie feel to it.

Charlie crouches down to inspect the stones more closely.

“Have you visited any other stone circles?” I ask, leaning against one of them and then instantly moving away due to the shock of the cold stone and a feeling of unease. Maybe leaning on the stones is disrespectful or something. I recall my childhood and the number of times we dared each other to come up to visit the stones in the dark, finding our way across the fields by torchlight. If leaning against the stones is considered disrespectful then I’m certain some of the other things these stones have witnessed go way beyond disrespect. I know of tales of couples coming up here to do much more than a spot of kissing and enjoying the views of the moors. Not just teenagers in search of somewhere private but even married couples. The stones have many rumoured magical claims to fame, including a belief they have powers when it comes to fertility.

“A few,” Charlie replies. “One of my favourites are the Callanish Standing Stones up in the Outer Hebrides. You think today is windy? You haven’t truly experienced a windy day until you’ve visited some of those west coast Scottish Islands. The wind will, quite literally, blow you off your feet. Stunning beaches of white sand on some of the islands though. Amazing places.”

“You’ve travelled a lot?”

He nods. “Yep. Whilst I was in the army and quite a bit with my work with the CCIA.”

“How long were you in the army?” I realise I don’t know very much about him. About his past. About his relationships.

“Three tours of duty. Two in special ops.”

“What made you leave?”

“The unit I was in was disbanded, budget cuts. I’d had enough of being overseas all the time anyway, so I came home. I was deciding what to do next when I got talking to an old mate. He told me how his brother works for the Metropolitan Police in London. Said how he was seconded to work with this agency who specialise in covert stuff investigating crimes where celebrities are involved. He suggested I contact his mate, find out a bit more. I liked the idea of it. Regular police work,” he shakes his head, “it’s not for me, but this sounded different. I was put in touch with this guy and they ran various background checks on me then I was invited for an interview. Rest is history.”

Another gust of wind whistles across the moors making me feel chilly and I snuggle into my coat. “How long have you been working for the CCIA now?”

“Couple of years.”

“And you enjoy the work?” I ask, carefully watching his face. I don’t need to hear his answer to know how he feels about his work. I can see it in his eyes. It’s obvious how much he loves it.

“Yeah, it’s varied, challenging. I like that. Mostly UK-based as well which I prefer these days, but there are still a fair few assignments overseas.” He stops examining the stones and gets up. “This seems like a good spot for some lunch. If we sit on the other side we’ll be sheltered from the wind. Sound OK?”

I’m feeling a little uncomfortable around the stones and would rather picnic somewhere else.

All around us are smaller rocks and boulders. Are these considered to be part of the standing stones too I wonder? We move around to the other side of the hill. Charlie sits on one of the large flat rocks and pats the one next to him. “Take a seat.”

“It doesn’t look very comfortable.” I eye it cautiously. “Are we allowed to sit on these? It’s not considered sacrilegious or something? We could do a bit of a longer detour instead and have a pub lunch in Wetherton just over the hill,” I suggest hopefully.

“No. No time for that. We’ll eat here.”

“I didn’t bring much food with me. I forgot to go shopping yesterday. I’ve only got some fruit and a snack bar. Come on,” I wheedle. “It’ll only take an hour to get to the pub and back and grab some hot and decent food.”

“No.” Charlie unpacks his backpack. “Good job I bought plenty of sandwiches for both of us then eh?” He tosses a packet of salt and vinegar crisps in my direction.

“How do you know if I even like salt and vinegar flavour?”

Charlie shrugs. “Doesn’t everyone?”

True enough, I concede, as I open the crisps and attempt to get comfortable on the rock which seems to have far too many pointy bits.

“So,” I venture, feeling the nosy and persistent part of me kick in again. “What does your girlfriend think about you doing all this undercover spy-type stuff for the CCIA? She must worry about you. I know I would if I had a boyfriend who went off on secret missions.”

I will find out if he has a significant other. I can be very determined when I want to be. Maybe a relationship is the reason he prefers his work to be UK-based these days.

“Oh, hang on a minute,” I add. “I did once have a boyfriend who went off on secret missions.”

Charlie looks surprised. “You did?”

I nod, unwrapping the cheese and tomato sandwich Charlie has handed to me. “Yep. He insisted on having plenty of time for his hobbies. Trouble was he never wanted to elaborate on what his hobbies were. Then I discovered by accident that one of his hobbies was having sex with his ex-girlfriend. In public places.”

“Tosser,” Charlie says as he balls up the wrapper from his own sandwich and throws it into his still-open rucksack. “The guy was obviously a grade one idiot.”

“Thanks for the gesture of support.” I smile, aware he still hasn’t answered my question. “I should never have got involved with him anyway. He wasn’t my type.”

“Oh? What’s your type then?”

“That would be telling,” I say attempting to be coy.

He raises an eyebrow. “And why would that be a problem?”

“Maybe it would. Maybe it wouldn’t.” I shrug. “Anyway, you haven’t answered my question. Girlfriend?”

He stares at the floor. “No. I don’t have a woman sitting somewhere pining after me and worrying about me.”

“Is that because you’re not involved with anyone or because you are and she just doesn’t give a damn you’re off on your latest Mission Impossible getting yourself beaten up or shot at?” I ask cheekily, grinning at him.

He shakes his head and a smile flickers on his lips. “Nice. Thanks very much.”

I love making him smile I realise with a jolt of something that I know could make working with him even more tricky over the next however-long-it-takes to solve the Joel mystery.

“What?” I protest. “You never know. Maybe your significant other is an agent too and you’re the one who worries about her?”

“You must realise you’re just a teensy,” he holds up a thumb and forefinger close together, “bit crazy.”

I hit his arm and he dodges out of the way.

“So you’re not involved?”

“Why? Are you interested?” he asks, a sparkle in those blue eyes.

He’s teasing me, flirting with me.

I like it.

“You wish,” I laugh. “Just answer the question will you, Mr Evasive?”

“There is no woman in my life and before you ask, there’s no man either. No significant other.” He falls silent for a few moments before adding, “What about you? Anybody serious in your life, after the one with sex with the ex as a hobby?”

I shrug and try to appear cool and confident.
He is interested in me,
a little voice inside my head is chanting delightedly. Then the rational part of me chips in with a reminder that he won’t be around for long anyway. Once the Joel case is sorted he’ll be off on his next mission goodness knows where. “No, not really. The odd date here and there. Nothing serious. Decided I’m waiting for my knight in shining armour, my Mr Perfect, nothing less will do these days.”

Charlie pulls a face. “You believe he exists?”

“Absolutely. One day he’ll appear. One day.”

He lowers his voice and stares at the ground again. “Maybe he’s already here.”

My heart beat quickens and I wonder if he means what I think he means by that comment. To change the topic I say, “So, tell me about your family.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“I’m nosy,” I say. “I’d like to know all about them.”

He shrugs. “My mum Annabelle is a university lecturer, subject English. My dad, Frank, is a fraud investigator. Little brother Eddie is two years younger than me and currently in the army. Older sister Lorna is a teacher, married and planning to start a family. That’s it, not much to tell.”

“You don’t get to see much of them then?”

“Not as much as I’d like I suppose. We’re not the closest of families, but unlike some we do actually get on OK and sometimes we even quite like each other.”

He surprises me by asking, “How about you? Do you get on with your folks?”

“Yes.” I nod, instantly feeling guilty at the thought of my mum and having to lie to her about the whole Joel thing, about why Charlie and I are together. “I do. They all live pretty close by, not in Palstone but only a few miles away. My mum Sally is a PA at a local building firm. My dad Dave is a builder at the same company. I have an older sister Maggie, happily married, two children.”

He nods. “Sounds good. So, my turn to ask the questions. What about you and Ennis? You said you were old friends. We’ve established you dated when you were at university together. You told me it ended amicably.” He gives me a sideways glance as he says the words. “What was he like back then before he was famous?”