Drowning in Amber (A Marie Jenner Mystery Book 2) (22 page)

“James!” I cried, looking around frantically. “Are you all right?”

He wasn’t there. I ran back to the other room, and looked in corners, and in the overstuffed closet—everywhere I could think of. Nothing.

I heard another groan, this one long, drawn-out, as though someone was screaming in his sleep. But I still couldn’t see anyone, anywhere.

“Eddie?” I called cautiously. “Eddie, is that you?”

He came into view as he slowly woke up. He was curled in a ball by the window and kicked out frantically with one wrecked foot as he pulled himself out of whatever nightmare place he was in, and back to reality.

“Eddie!” I called again. Louder this time. “Wake up!”

He popped into full view as he jerked awake. Then he stretched and opened his eyes, smiling when he noticed me.

“Hey there,” he said.

“Hey yourself.” I went back to my desk and tried to clean up the spilt coffee with the last of the tissue from the box on my desk, then gave it all up and sat down. “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Don’t think so,” he said, stretching again, then pulling himself upright. I could see ribs through his thin tee shirt. “I can’t remember.”

“Is James here?”

“He was.” He frowned. “I didn’t hear him leave.”

That spiked my heart rate. I put down my cup again, though more carefully this time. “The coffee tastes fresh. How long were you asleep?”

“I dunno. Not too long.”

I went to the washrooms in the hallway and punched the door to the men’s open, calling James’s name as I did so. When I was certain there was no one there, I went back to the office. Where could he have gone?

Ignoring Eddie, I walked back into the inner office and checked the desk. Saw James’s coffee cup sitting there, half-full of coffee. I touched it. Still warm. He hadn’t been gone long at all.

I walked around the desk and knocked over a baseball bat that had been leaning against the desk.

“What the hell?” I asked, and bent down to pick the thing up. Was hit with an attack of vertigo, and grabbed for the desk. I hadn’t had that much to drink the night before. Had I?

“Your buddy was using it for protection last night,” Eddie said. Then he frowned. “You all right?”

“Not so much.” I stood stock-still until I was certain I was not going to embarrass myself by falling down in front of the ghost.

“Hungover or sick?”

“Apparently, hungover.” Didn’t like admitting it, and hated hearing him chuckle the way he did. “It’s not funny.”

“Yeah, actually it is.”

“Where would he have gone?” I asked the question, not because I expected an answer, but because I didn’t want to talk about being hungover any longer.

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, again. “Hope Ambrose didn’t get him.”

“What?” I swung around, and stared at him. “Who?”

“Ambrose Welch. That’s why I came back. It looks like you shook him up some when you were down at the park, before the raid. He wants to find out what your deal is.” He shrugged. “Maybe that’s what happened to your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, and this isn’t funny! Do you think they grabbed him? Where would they have taken him?”

“Dumpster, maybe?” Eddie shrugged, and I wanted to smack him. “I dunno.”

“Jesus.” I ran my hands through my hair and tried to think. James and I were supposed to go meet Sergeant Worth in—I checked my watch—thirty-five minutes. Which meant she’d be at her desk.

“Maybe she can help me,” I muttered, and ran back out to the reception area. Eddie followed me out, then planted himself by the front door.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I have to go see—I have an appointment.” I edged past him to get to the door, not wanting to go through any part of him. Drugs plus hangover. No thanks.

“But what about your guy? Don’t you want to find him?”

“The appointment—she can help me. I hope.”

I touched the doorknob, then shrieked when it turned of its own volition.

I scrabbled back, wishing for all I was worth that I had the capacity to make myself vanish the way Eddie could, or I was so far away from this office that whoever was on the other side of that door and coming in would never find me. At the very least, I wished I’d picked up the bat.

I scrambled to get it as the door opened, but shambled to a stop with a rush of relief as pure as anything I have ever felt in my life as James came into view with a brown paper bag in his teeth and the keys to the front door in his hand.

“James!” I ran to him, and threw my arms around him enthusiastically. More than that, actually. “Thank God you’re all right!”

“And why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, rather mushily around the bag. He hugged me back and took the bag from his teeth. “What did you think happened?”

“Well, I thought—” I pushed out of his arms a little, trying to get a coherent thought going. Nothing. “I was just worried,” I finally muttered. “You didn’t leave me a note.”

“Oh.” He grinned and tossed the bag on my desk. “Doughnuts. I figured we’d need breakfast before the meeting. And sorry about no note. I didn’t think of it.”

“Well, you should have,” I said, but smiled anyhow. “I was scared.”

“I saw that. Anything in particular you’re afraid of—or just life in general?”

‘Tell him about Ambrose,” Eddie said. “That’ll shut him the hell up.”

But I couldn’t do that.

“I guess—it was the bat,” I blurted out, pointing at the inner office. “I saw it—”

“Oh yeah.” James opened the bag and pulled out a chocolate doughnut. “I forgot about that.”

“So why was it out?”

“I didn’t want to be surprised by anyone last night.” He gestured to the open bag. “Have one. They’re fresh.”

I glanced inside. The doughnuts looked good, so I took a chance, pulled one out, and bit into it. He was right. They were fresh, and the sweet doughnut goodness miraculously eased some of the pain in my brain.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“Told you so.” He popped the rest of his into his mouth and chewed enthusiastically. “You almost ready? We have to go soon.”

Oh yeah. The meeting with Sergeant Worth. Now that I knew James was safe, I didn’t feel as enthusiastic about going and seeing her. The last time we’d spoken, she’d hinted that she knew about my background. Where I’d come from. Who my mother was. What she was. I didn’t want to face her again, because I was not prepared to tell her anything more about myself than I had to. Especially not in front of James.

“Any chance I can bow out of this?” I asked. “Maybe just stay here and get some of the paperwork in order or something?” I looked over at my desk and the remains of the coffee spill. “See? The place is a wreck.”

James glanced at the desk and laughed. “No,” he said. “She specifically asked for both of us—and she was pretty angry yesterday. So we’re both going to be there.”

“But the mess—” I pointed at the desk again, but less hopefully this time. “It really needs to be cleaned up.”

“Tough,” he replied. “We’re going. Finish your doughnut.”

“No thanks.” I dropped the unfinished pastry on the desk beside the puddle of coffee and pulled in a deep breath. “If we’re going to do this, let’s get it over with.”

“Good girl,” he said, and, gentleman that he is, held the door open for me, then linked his arm in mine when we were both out in the hallway.

“Afraid I’ll run?”

“Not really,” he replied, then laughed. “Maybe.”

“I’m coming, too,” Eddie said, and jogged up behind us. I guess I made a noise, because James stopped and looked at me, concern on his face.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Really, I’m great.” I smiled, hoping it looked right, even though the last thing in the world I felt like doing was smiling, or even walking another step. I did not need to have the diversion of a ghost in that office while we were talking to Sergeant Worth. I really didn’t. “We’d better get going.”

James held my arm even more tightly, and when I looked over at him, his smile was gone.

That look meant he was watching me closely. If I didn’t want to give everything away, I had to be very careful.

Eddie followed us down the stairs and out into the street, looking both ways, and then shrugging. “Looks like you’re safe for now,” he said. “But I bet that your place is pulled to shit again when you get back.” And then he laughed. “Maybe it’ll be the cops this time.”

SERGEANT WORTH, AS
usual, looked like she hadn’t slept much the night before. She waved to the two chairs in front of her paper-covered desk as she finished a phone call on her cell, and then one on her landline.

“She’s too busy to see us,” I muttered to James, hopefully. “We should go.”

James didn’t answer, but Worth pointed at the chairs again, as she blathered police jargon into the phone.

Eddie, luckily, hadn’t shown up yet. He’d somehow missed the elevator, and the maze that was the downtown police department headquarters would probably keep him away from us for the entire meeting. I hoped so, anyhow.

We sat down, James looking like he belonged, and me sitting gingerly on the edge of my seat, wishing I was just about anywhere but there.

“Give me five minutes,” Sergeant Worth said into the phone. She was only giving us five minutes? Excellent. This would not turn into an investigation of my past. Heck, five minutes was barely long enough to give us a hard time for the trouble we’d gotten into—check that, the trouble James got us into—the day before. I felt my gut loosen, and the headache, which had been threatening since we arrived at the police station, magically disappeared.

When she put the receiver down and turned her chair to face us, I was even able to manage a smile. She did not smile in return, but I still felt all right. James was the one in trouble here, not me. I just had to pretend to be invisible and—

“So Marie, what’s your involvement in all this?”

Stomach tightened. Invisibility wasn’t working worth a darn. I tried smiling harder, but that didn’t take the ice off the look the woman was giving me.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean exactly what I said,” Worth replied. “Tell me what you did to get James involved in the drug trade.”

“The drug—” I stared at her, then decided that the best defence was to get angry. “What do you mean, how did
I
get him involved? I didn’t do anything! He’s an adult. He decided to go there—”

“That’s not what I mean,” Worth said, and leaned forward like she’d caught me in a lie or something. “I get that he decided to go to the park—and I can understand why, even though I did express to him yesterday just how foolish I thought he’d been. But what I need to understand is why you showed up there in the first place. Just in time for a drug sweep. Can you explain that to me?”

My mind froze. I couldn’t even remember why I’d gone there. Had Eddie said something to me—or had it been our client? Our client. We had a client.

“I think it was our client that told us about the place,” I said quickly, then glanced over at James, hoping he would confirm.

“I told you this yesterday, sergeant,” he said. “I don’t think you need to interrogate her—”

“I’m just trying to figure out her involvement in all this, James,” Worth replied. “She does seem to show up just in time for the fireworks, now doesn’t she?”

“I do too,” James replied. I snuck another glance at him, but he still seemed relaxed, at ease. I could barely believe it. How could he be so calm? Sergeant Worth was one of the scariest women I knew, but he looked like he was chatting with his nice little old aunt, the one who sent him socks every year for Christmas.

“And I think you’re there because of her,” Worth replied, and turned back to me. “So? Am I right? Does he show up because of you?”

Mostly. I looked down at the floor.

“It’s like I told you yesterday,” James said. “I’m running my uncle’s detective agency now.” Still calm, still completely in control. Amazing. “And Marie works for me. So, I’d say I am the one to answer these questions.”

“Ah yes, your detective agency,” Worth said, flipping open a file on her desk and peering at it. “I decided to check it out. Found some interesting stuff, I did.”

“Yes?” James said, but didn’t look quite as confident as he had mere moments before. “What did you find?”

“I found that the only one who had a licence was your uncle,” she said. “And now that he’s dead, that leaves no one qualified to run that office. Unless you’re applying for one?”

“I’m going to,” James replied, and I knew, even without looking at him, that his calm had disappeared, replaced with anxiety just like mine. I felt like I was going to turn into a screeching pile of jello in seconds, and wondered if he felt the same way. “But I do have—”

“Seventeen more days to use your uncle’s licence,” Worth finished his sentence for him, and slapped the file shut. “You see, I know the law too. When do you expect to have yours?”

“In two weeks?” More a question than an answer, and I wondered if he even knew how long it took to get an investigator’s licence. Looked like he’d either done some research, or he’d made an extremely lucky guess.