And The Earth Moved: Romantic Comedy Cozy Mystery (Amber Reed CCIA Mystery Book 1) (6 page)

Chapter Seven

I think I’ve figured out what Charlie might be up to. He left the pub about an hour ago and I have a feeling he’s going to go back to the quarry tonight for his aforementioned unofficial look around the offices.

He’s too impatient to leave it long before going for his little reconnaissance trip. Plus we need to solve this case as quickly as possible. Preferably before the police call ‘time’s up’ and make the announcement about Joel’s death. He’s planning to go up there alone. Excluding me, I imagine, because he thinks it’s too risky and I’m probably not insured for those kind of covert operations, despite having signed my life away on those CCIA forms he made me complete.

So, as soon as my shift finished at the pub, I borrowed Debs’ car to wait in the lay-by leading down to the lane which ends at the quarry. She lives within walking distance of the pub but I don’t. I’d made an excuse about my car playing up again and she was only too happy to lend me her keys.

I hate having to keep the truth from her about this investigation but I signed that piece of paper from the CCIA about keeping my mouth shut. I also promised Ennis I wouldn’t breathe a word about Joel. The next time I meet up with Debs for a chat I’ll casually drop it into the conversation about how Charlie and I have ‘hit it off’ and are spending some time together whilst he’s investigating the break-in threat up at Ennis’ house.

I glance at the clock. Am I too late or did I guess wrong? I’ve been waiting ages for Charlie’s car to go past. I’d been so sure he would try to visit the quarry again tonight but so far zilch and it’s now approaching midnight. Perhaps I should just give up and go home. Before the cold completely cuts off the circulation to my extremities.

The next moment I jump, heartbeat racing, as the driver’s door of Debs’ car is wrenched open. I scream, all manner of scary situations racing through my mind.

“Amber!”

Allowing myself to breathe again I look up into Charlie’s eyes.

“Where did you spring from?” I gasp.

“What are you doing?” He stands up looking annoyed. “No, scrub that. I know exactly what you’re doing. Waiting for me.  I told you this time I was going back to the quarry alone.”

He rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “I knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer. Guessed you’d try something like this. When I saw the car parked up on the edge of the lane I thought it’s either a couple parked up for a bit of privacy or it’s you trying to spy on me. Again.”

“And what would you have done if you’d yanked the door open and found some young couple in a compromising position eh? Or some great scary thug intent on beating you up or something?”

He shrugs. “The point is I didn’t. I found you. Anyway I don’t think great scary thugs usually drive around in a beaten up old Corsa.” He stands back and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I have to say your undercover surveillance skills are complete crap. What did you think you were doing?”

“I wasn’t waiting for you,” I say, deciding to brazen it out. “I couldn’t sleep and decided to go for a drive and then I thought I saw something up ahead on the road so I pulled over.”

“Where were you going for a drive to?” he asks with a knowing expression. “This lane only goes up to the quarry or the moor. As we both know. Where were you planning on going for this midnight drive of yours?”

“I was going to the moor. I fancied a walk.”

“In the pitch black?” he counters.

I fumble around in the door pocket for a moment, remembering something Debs has said many a time about her car’s fondness for breaking down on dark lanes. “I have a torch!” I say, pulling it from the door and waving it in his face.

He dodges back just in time to avoid the torch hitting him on the nose and looks at me as though I’m some kind of madwoman. “Oh well that makes perfect sense then. I didn’t realise you had a torch.”

“Are you making fun of me?” I scowl at him.

“Of course not. I’ve more important things to do.” He slams the car door closed. “Go home, Amber.”

“No.” I wind down the car window. Yes,
wind
down. The car is that old and that basic. No electric windows on this model.

He bends down and peers into the car. “No?”

“That’s what I said. No.”

“Amber, please,” he starts to reason. “This isn’t the time or the place for an argument. I need to go to the quarry and you need to abandon your midnight moorland walk plans and go home. It could be too dangerous around here. You’ve not forgotten about our dumper truck friends from before surely?”

“I’m coming with you,” I reply stubbornly.

“Go home, Amber,” he repeats and starts to walk back to his car which I now spot parked up behind some trees.

I watch as he climbs in and drives off. How arrogant is that? He just shouts his orders and expects me to obey them? Perhaps that’s what they do at the CCIA but it isn’t what I do. I coax the car into gear and begin to follow him. 

He stops the car and gets out throwing his hands in the air with an exasperated expression on his face. I swear I can see him counting to ten even from here.

I put the button down to lock my door and then, as he walks towards me, I remember the car doesn’t have central locking, so quickly lean across and lock the passenger door too. He strolls up to the window and gestures for me to open it. I wind it down a fraction of an inch.

“Amber I refuse to talk with you through a one inch gap. Open the bloody window properly.”

I wind it half way down and he crouches down so his head is at the same height as mine.

“Be sensible. I don’t want you getting involved in this stuff tonight. Please. I’m asking nicely. Go home.”

“No. I can help. Two pairs of eyes and hands are better than one and I’m capable of looking after myself. I’m even armed,” I add, brandishing the torch again.

He sighs. “You’re not going to give up are you?”

“No. I’m not. Let me help you find out what’s going on at the quarry. What happened to Joel.”

He gets to his feet and raises his hands in a
I give up
gesture. “OK. Make sure your car is completely off the road and preferably out of sight as well. Pull it forward a bit so it’s behind those trees then come and get in my car.”

“You make that sound so inviting,” I say sarcastically, earning myself another look of annoyance.

Shaking his head he adds, “I have a definite sense of
deja vu
here. I must be going mad agreeing to this.”

He walks off before stopping, turning and adding, I suspect with more than a touch of sarcasm himself, “Don’t forget to bring your torch!”

Close to the entrance to the quarry Charlie parks his car in a dip behind some more trees. I never realised before how useful trees can be when you’re on some covert night time mission. The woodland is quite dense now, crowding around us, looking foreboding and impenetrable in the darkness.

“Now what?” I ask, gripping my torch more tightly than is necessary, my knuckles white.

“Now we walk. If we cut across the edge of the wood, we can access the quarry so we’re not too far from the office.”

I get out of the car and try to look as though I’m perfectly at ease with the concept of breaking and entering a quarry in the middle of the night.

“Wow,” Charlie nods approvingly. “You really carry off the cat burglar look very well.”

“Ha ha, very funny!” I do a little twirl in my black stretch jeans, close fitting black jumper and flat black boots. I fix a brave smile on my face but inside I’m a nervous wreck. My whole body is quivering with nerves. And cold. The temperature has plummeted and I’m desperately trying to stop my teeth chattering. I stamp up and down on the spot to warm up a little and Charlie throws me a strange look.

I’m not about to admit how scared (or cold) I feel to Charlie though, who is nonchalantly pulling on a black woolly hat as though we’re out for an evening stroll with the family dog, not breaking into a quarry. He hands me an identical hat. Standard issue CCIA assignment apparel?  He probably has a bag full of them.

“Put this on.”

I eye it sceptically.

“This isn’t a fashion show,” he says, seeing the way I’m looking at it. “Besides it will complete your sexy cat burglar outfit perfectly.”

I pull the hat down over my hair until the edge is only just above the top of my eyes. Briefly I wonder if his comment means he thinks my outfit is sexy or if he thinks I’m sexy.

Am I crazy getting myself dragged into all of this goodness knows what going on up at the quarry? Probably, but I feel I have no choice. I promised Ennis for a start. Plus, OK, I admit, I’m surprised, but a part of me is enjoying being involved, doing something practical to try to help solve the mystery of what happened to Joel.

“Anyway, what’s this burglar business? I didn’t think breaking and entering was on the agenda for tonight?”

“You never know what’s on the agenda for tonight,” he replies smoothly.

He too is dressed head to toe in the cat burglar uniform – i.e. black everything. When he opens the boot of the car the interior light illuminates a black rucksack which he reaches for. I have no idea how heavy it is from the way Charlie easily slips it over his shoulders but it does look bulky.

What’s inside it I wonder? Is there a gun, all black, heavy and metallic, nestled inside amongst whatever other equipment Charlie deems necessary for the mission tonight? How do I feel about the prospect of sharing a midnight walk with a man who might be carrying a gun? A gun is dangerous. A gun also offers us a degree of protection though…

It’s no good, I have to ask. “Charlie?”

“Yep.” He sets off at a pace across the woods, towards the rim of the quarry and I rush to catch up with him.

“What’s in the bag?”

He answers without a beat of hesitation. “Equipment for tonight.”

“What kind of equipment?”

“All sorts.”

“Does that, by any chance, include a gun?”

He slows and looks at me. “Do you want it to include a gun?”

I haven’t figured out the answer to that question yet. How would I feel if Charlie admitted there was a gun? If there was, then clearly he would know how to use it properly. Has he ever killed a person? I swallow with difficulty at the thought.

“You’re not answering the question,” I say, nervously rubbing my now sweaty hands down the legs of my jeans.

“Neither are you.”

“I don’t know if I want it to include a gun or not,” I eventually answer. “I don’t like the idea of a gun. But what if the guys at the quarry have one? What if…”

An owl hoots somewhere close by and I feel my shoulders tense even more. Every little noise seems to be amplified. Every little noise sounds terrifying. I swallow and try to think calming thoughts. The moon puts in an appearance, lighting up the eerie woodland landscape around us.

“Relax.” Charlie briefly rests a hand on my shoulder. “I seriously doubt Liam and Ryan, the Brothers Grim at the quarry, will have guns. This is deepest darkest Derbyshire here, not the Wild West. Right. We’re at the edge of the quarry now. You OK?”

I nod even though I’m far from OK. Going back into the scary woods might actually be preferable to facing the steep cliff and winding path down into the quarry. “As much as I’ll ever be anyway.”

“If you’re doing this then I need you to understand I’m responsible for you. In truth you shouldn’t even be here but, once again, you’ve persuaded me to let you. So these are the rules. I’m in charge; you do exactly as I say. Understood?”

He has that
I-mean-business
look in his eyes again and for a moment I stop feeling as though I’m turning into an icicle and experience a flash of warmth all over. “Are you always this bossy?” I ask.

He continues looking at me for a moment longer, as though he’s contemplating something, before replying. “Not always, no.”

“You mean sometimes you actually let someone else be in control?”

I’m sure there’s amusement in his voice as he replies, “Sometimes.”

I can’t help wondering when the occasions are that he happily lets somebody else be in control. I edge a little closer and try to meet his gaze again in the darkness. Is that a twinkle in his eyes?

“Understood?” he repeats. “Are we clear about the rules?”

He is strict, isn’t he?

“Yes.” I nod, pushing a little fantasy about him relinquishing control firmly out of my head. I can’t be attracted to him. Not now, when we’re in the middle of an investigation. I kick my foot nervously at a stone in the rough ground.  The spring air smells damp and hangs around me like a cloak of cold. I wish I’d thought to bring an extra layer of clothing. “Understood.”

“Good.”

Up ahead of us is a row of security fencing which stretches away into the dark. It must be about seven foot high and looks as though it has barbed wire on the top for good measure. Just in case anybody is stupid enough to try to climb over. It lends an ominous feel to proceedings.  I hope we’re not going to be the ones stupid enough to try to climb over. Speaking of climbing over things – how are we going to get through?