And The Earth Moved: Romantic Comedy Cozy Mystery (Amber Reed CCIA Mystery Book 1) (3 page)

Chapter Four

Did he really just ask if I want to be his girlfriend?

OK, maybe it’s a little tempting
but this isn’t quite what I had in mind when I was asked to keep an eye on him. Still, he’s right - again - it does make perfect sense. It will also mean I can keep my promise to Ennis about watching what Charlie’s up to and where he goes.

“OK,” I say, my head still reeling from the abrupt about turn he just did. “We can pretend to be dating.” One minute it’s no-go and the next he’s giving me the green light to get involved with the investigation. Even help out a little maybe. A flicker of worry creeps in and I hope I can manage to keep things between us strictly about this investigation and not venture into any other dangerous territory. That would be asking for even more trouble.

He’s bound to have a girlfriend anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised if women are forming an orderly queue to date him. “The locals will probably be far more amenable with you and with answering questions if they see you with me. You’ve got yourself a deal,” I say, offering a hand to shake. He takes my hand and we seal the deal with a firm handshake.

The warmth of his hand leaves my own hand all tingly as he edges the car back out onto the lane towards the quarry.

“A couple of things,” he says as he drives along. “I’ll need to phone Ennis and put him in the picture. I’ll also need you to sign some paperwork.”

He glances across at me. “The CCIA does, in special circumstances, let civilians help with cases. It makes sense with the way we operate under the radar. However, they’ll require you to sign a couple of disclaimer documents to say you, or your family, won’t sue if there are any mishaps during the course of the investigation.”

I swallow. Nerves replace my jubilation about getting Charlie to accept my involvement in Joel’s case. “Mishaps?” I squeak.

“Yeah,” he says. “Mishaps.” He glances over at me again as we whiz along the country lane. “That’s not a problem right? I mean, if it is, I can drop you back at your car and we can forget all about this.”

“No,” I manage, forcing a smile. “It’s not a problem at all.”

“Fantastic. Now, tell me about Ennis and his family.”

“Didn’t you cover all of this in your interview with him?”

“I want to hear it from your side,” he says.

“Their parents divorced when Ennis and Joel were in their teens. There’s only two years between them. Joel is the youngest. Their dad moved overseas and their mum remarried, a man called Tony, soon after the divorce was finalised. She had a new family and less and less time for Ennis and Joel. I think she figured they were old enough to look after themselves by then anyway. Joel went off the rails big time. Ennis always felt responsible for his little brother and blames himself for Joel living such a wild lifestyle.”

“What kind of wild?” Charlie asks as he changes gear.

“The usual. Getting drunk, experimenting. Breaking a few minor laws here and there. He was just rebelling. Wanted attention. I guess that’s why, when Ennis hit the big time and became famous, Joel jumped on the bandwagon and made himself famous for being his brother. He loved having his picture in all the papers as he fell out of some trendy London nightclub or doing kiss-and-tell stories after spending the night with a top catwalk model.”

Charlie glances in the rear-view mirror. “Sounds like he was quite a handful.”

“He was.” I shake my head. “I still can’t believe he’s dead.”

“Yeah, bit of a shock if you knew the guy, even if you knew he wasn’t on many people’s Christmas card lists. Did you have much to do with him?”

“No. I only met him a few times. He was always in trouble over something. What do you think happened last night? Did someone really murder him?”

“We still can’t say for definite.” He rests an elbow on the edge of the door as we drive along. “But my hunch is yeah, it’s looking more and more likely. Now we just need to find out who and why.”

Charlie parks his 4x4 next to the quarry offices which look as though they have more in common with a couple of old metal shipping containers than a proper brick building.

The quarry is busy; lorries and gigantic dumper trucks are all over the place going about their business. A weighbridge is right next to the quarry offices and a truck emblazoned with the
Set In Stone
logo on the cab door pulls on to the bridge to get its load checked before heading out for delivery.

Grabbing a couple of bright yellow hard hats and fluorescent safety vests from the back of the car Charlie hands one of each to me. “Put these on.”

I do as instructed and he puts the others on himself. He’s dressed in dark jeans, a blue open-neck shirt and a navy blazer with smart trail boots. The hard hat completely hides his closely cropped brown hair.

Following him across the quarry my eyes drift up to the white police tent on one of the wide quarry ledges.

The spot where Joel fell to his death.

All around us it seems to be business as usual as lorries, people and dumper trucks go about their work.

The ‘office’ is open and I follow Charlie inside as he raps sharply on the wall to let whoever is around know they have visitors. Two men look up from a desk and one of them hastily shoves a pile of documents into a drawer out of sight.

“Hey, guys. My name’s Charlie Huxton.” He flashes a badge so quickly I can’t make out what it says. “I’d like to speak to Liam Turston.”

“Got an appointment?” one of them, a man I don’t recognise, asks. He looks as though he probably moonlights as a nightclub bouncer in his spare time. Bald, all muscle and tattoos all the way up his arms and neck.

“Yes,” Charlie replies with such authority in his voice that I stop slouching against a desk and stand up straight. “One of the local police guys made it earlier.”

The other man smiles and winks at me. I know him from the village pub where I work - he’s a regular on the darts team.

“Hi, Mitch,” I say, making my way past Charlie in the cramped and messy office. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad. Not bad at all.” He steps around the desk to stand next to me. “Better for seeing you. What are you doing here with this guy?”

Before I can say anything Charlie answers for me. “Amber and I met in the village. She’s showing me around. Introducing me to the locals, helping out.”

Mitch looks dubious but says, “Right. Yeah. Well, you’re looking gorgeous as ever, Amber. Let me buy you a drink tonight after the darts match?”

Charlie raises an eyebrow at me but says nothing.

“Maybe. Depends if our team win or not.”

I feel Charlie’s arm briefly slip around my waist and experience a flicker of something that could well be pleasure. Alarm bells ring in my head. Then I remember what he’d said before about me pretending to be his girlfriend.

“Oh, we’ll win,” Mitch replies, looking miffed at Charlie’s brief public display of affection. “We’re playing Topley. They’re bloody useless. Can’t even hit the board half of the time. Reckon they’re already half cut when their minibus drops them at the pub.”

“So?” Charlie interrupts. “The boss? Where can I find him?”

“He’s up on one of the shelves in the quarry. A bit busy right now,” the bouncer-type replies. “He’s a busy man.”

“And so am I. How about you send someone to find him and tell him I have an appointment with him and I need to talk to him in the next five minutes? Let him know we can either do this now without a fuss, or I can arrest him and we can do it at the police station after I’ve closed the quarry operations down for the whole duration of this investigation – his choice. We’ve tried to be as accommodating as possible by allowing you guys to carry on with your business whilst we carry on with ours, but if you’re not co-operating,” he stops and shrugs before continuing, “then neither are we…”

“The police have already made us all sign them confidentiality forms, bribing us to sign them more like, saying you’d shut the quarry down if we didn’t,” huffs Mitch. “Not that we have any idea who the body is you guys have found up on the quarry ledge.”

“Go and ask Liam to come down here,” the bouncer instructs Mitch grumpily.

Charlie smiles. “Thanks. Appreciate it.”

“What do you want? I’ve already spoken to the local police.”

“Liam Turston?”

Liam nods.

I wonder what kind of mood he’s in today. Judging by his expression it isn’t a good one. Liam’s a volatile character. He comes into the pub where I work quite often and one minute he’s nice as you like and the next he’s ranting and raving.

“I’m Charlie Huxton from a sub-division of the police tasked with investigating this crime.”

“What’s with all the secrecy about the body?” Mitch asks, rubbing his hands together as though he’s eager for gossip and scandal. “I bet it was suicide. Throwing yourself into a quarry is a sure fire way to end things.”

Charlie gives him a look. “Shall we go through to the other office, Mr Turston? It’s a bit more private.”

Liam opens the door to the other office and we follow him inside. This one is as much a mess as the other. Discarded drink cans and food wrappers litter the desks and a pot plant sitting on a shelf by the window looks as though it has sadly given up its fight to survive.

“So, Mr Turston, why don’t you take a seat?” Charlie says, taking charge of things as though this is his office, not Liam’s.

Liam glares at him but does as he suggests.

“I understand that the body has now been removed from the ledge and the team are clearing up their gear. Should all be out of your quarry within the next hour or so.”

Liam nods but says nothing.

“Any idea as to why a man might be up near the top of your quarry in the middle of the night?”

“No.” Liam twirls a pen back and forth between his fingers, looking worried.

“Are there usually any people around at night in the quarry? Security? A skeleton night shift working maintenance or anything like that?”

“Not last night there wasn’t. No maintenance issues. All the equipment was working fine.”

“And what about security?” Charlie persists. “I’m thinking you must need some level of security guard inspections for your insurance cover.”

Liam huffs. “Got basic cover. All we can afford.”

Charlie nods. “And basic cover is…?”

“Alarms on the offices and all the trucks. Locks on all the equipment.”

“No security firm visits the site then? You’re not on one of these security runs? Not even for ten minutes once a night, whilst the patrol is doing the rounds of various local businesses?”

“No. Nothing like that.” Liam shrugs. “Costs extra.”

“And that extra cost wouldn’t enable you to reduce your insurance premiums at all?”

Liam shakes his head. “Not much. We did ask but it wasn’t that much difference and my brother Ryan reckoned it wasn’t worth having people…” he pauses, looking as though he wishes he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Worth having people what?” quizzes Charlie.

“Checking round the place at night,” Liam finishes.

“Because?”

He shrugs. “Just because.”

“I have to say, Mr Turston I get the feeling you’re not being completely co-operative, which I’m surprised at given we’d found a dead body in your quarry. A dead body which appears to have fallen off the edge of the moor up near the standing stones into your quarry.”

Charlie leans forward, placing both hands on the desk in an intimidating way. “Quarries should have safety fencing all around the perimeter and warning signs. You must know you’re breaking health and safety regs. We could shut you down right now.”

I feel a flicker of admiration as Tough Guy makes a return. Charlie’s good at this asserting himself business isn’t he?

“Look, we don’t need to get into all that. We’ll get the fencing fixed I promise. It’s just that money is tight at the moment and we haven’t quite got round to sorting all the jobs that need doing around here.”

“You were saying,” Charlie prompts, standing upright again. “About security at the quarry.”

Liam leans back in his chair. “This place is ours and we can look after it just fine ourselves with a bit of help when we ask for it from our mates. Whether that’s for repairs or security. Ryan’s got some guys from the darts team who help out on an informal basis and come down and look the place over from time to time. An agreement between mates. Pay them with beer. Suits us all better that way.”

“I see. You’re sure none of these guys were casually dropping by last night? Do they let you know when they’ve visited? How often?”

“Ryan deals with that side of things. He knows the lads more than I do and I’ve got enough on my plate with the day to day stuff and keeping all the paperwork up to date. Drivers’ hours and taco-graphs to sort, blast certificates, health and safety, you name it. Does my bloody head in the lot of it.”

“Didn’t your dad have some help with that side of things?” I chip in.

“Yeah, Margaret used to come in a couple of times a week and sort some of the office stuff.”

“She doesn’t anymore?” I ask.