Voodoo, Lies, and Murder (24 page)

He traced his finger down my cheek, sending an explosion of shivers shooting in all directions. "I can't wait to get you home."

Down, girl! You're in a hospital!

The young doctor entered the room, blowing a nice fantasy I was having about jumping into bed with Brad.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Beckett?" The doctor picked up Brad's chart, leafing through it and giving a pleased nod.

"I feel great," Brad said. "Better than I did before, actually."

"You've made a very sudden and remarkable recovery," the doctor said. "It's amazing, considering how ill you were when you were admitted. Normally we don't see such a massive improvement this quickly. I've never seen anything quite like it. Quite extraordinary, really."

"When can he get out of here?" I asked. "It's just that we've got a wedding to go to very soon."

A look of confusion passed over Brad's face. "Whose wedding?"

"Ours!" I said, beaming back at him.

Brad broke out into a humongous grin. "Really?" he said to me.

I nodded. "Really."

Which reminded me, I needed to get a dress, and shoes, and get my hair trimmed, and a leg wax, and—

"Congratulations," the doctor chimed in. "But we need to do some more tests to confirm the meningitis has definitely gone. If it has, I'd still like to keep you in for another few days for observation." He nodded at us. "Let me go and arrange those tests." And he disappeared out the door.

"Why wait?" Brad interlaced his fingers through mine.

"Huh?"

"The doctor said I'm going to be in here for observation for at least another few days, but I don't want to risk you changing your mind again."

I waved a dismissive hand. "I won't change my mind."

"I want to do it as soon as possible. I'm not losing you again." He pulled me onto his chest. "So what kind of wedding did you have in mind?"

I kissed his warm neck. What kind of wedding did I want? I didn't have a clue. I'd been so busy worrying about whether to actually get married I hadn't really thought about the wedding enough to have a proper idea of what I actually did want. I wasn't a floating-down-the-aisle-in-a-meringue-dress kind of girl. I didn't fancy a big all-eyes-on-me occasion. I wanted something with just my closest friends and family. And after everything that had happened in the last few days, I didn't want to wait a second longer, either.

I ran a hand through my unruly and crispy curls, thinking about it. Yep, I definitely needed to get my hair sorted. There was no way I was having lopsided hair in my wedding piccies.

"I've got a good idea," I said. "Let's fly out somewhere exotic and do it on a tropical beach!"

Brad raised his eyebrows. "I'm game. Where did you have in mind?"

"I don't know yet. Jamaica? Thailand? Somewhere hot with sandy beaches and palm trees and cocktails. Lots of cocktails."

"But what about your family? Don't you want them at the wedding?"

"Yes, we can all go. I've got a million-pound bonus check coming." I winked at him. "We can fly everyone out to see us get married. Hacker and Tia, too."

Unfortunately, Brad had no family left, but there was no way I could get married without mine being there.

"Sounds like a good plan," Brad said, and leaned forward to kiss me on the lips. "So what are you waiting for? Go home and book it now. How about next week?"

"Where am I going to get a dress from at such short notice?" I said, going into panic mode.

"Umberto Fandango?" he said.

I laughed. "Are we crazy?"

"Yes, but who cares?"

I had one more thing to do before I left the hospital.

Chantal was awake when I got to her room. Hell, who could sleep in a place like this with people snoring and nurses coming in every five minutes to check you were still alive? She had the color back in her cheeks and she was staring into space, fiddling with the corner of the sheet with one hand. Nicole held her other hand.

"Hi." I smiled at them.

"Hello," Nicole said and turned to Chantal. "This is Amber, the investigator I told you about."

I motioned to the edge of the bed. "Is it okay if I sit?"

"Of course." Chantal smiled a halfhearted smile back.

"How're you feeling?" I asked her.

She turned red-rimmed eyes on me. "I'm okay. Thanks to you. I don't really know how to thank you for getting me out of that place."

I felt bad for her. She'd been through a lot and it was going to take some time to get over the fact that her friend had been murdered and she'd nearly ended up inhabiting several different people's bodies. How long would it take to get over a trauma so horrific?

"How did you find out about the clinic and what Andrew was up to?" I asked.

She glanced down at the bed, a faraway look in her eyes. "Liza was my best friend. The police didn't seem to be getting anywhere with their investigation, but I just had to find out what had happened to her. One day I had the idea of trying to get into her email account to see if there was some sort of clue there. It didn't take me long to work out her password." She glanced up at me, anguish plastered all over her face, as if she'd done something wrong.

I nodded for her to continue.

"Mum, could you get me something to eat from the cafeteria, please? I'm suddenly really hungry."

Nicole stood up and retrieved her purse from her bag. "Of course, darling." She pushed away a few curls from Chantal's face. "What would you like?"

"Any kind of sandwich they have. And anything with chocolate."

"See you in a few minutes." Nicole disappeared out of the room.

"Sorry about that. I just didn't want Mum to hear some of the things. I'll tell her in my own time." Chantal paused. "Anyway, I found out Liza had sent an email to the Holbrook Clinic enquiring about their treatments and they'd sent her one back that detailed the different transplants they carried out. At first I thought maybe she was sick and needed treatment, then I realized it must've been for this big story she was working on." She took a deep breath before continuing. "So I watched the clinic for a few days and saw my cousin Andrew coming and going."

"Nicole said you'd never met him before. How did you know who he was?"

She looked embarrassed for a moment. "Just because Mum and Dad didn't get along with my aunt, didn't mean I wasn't curious about her and Andrew. They're my family, after all—part of my heritage. So I went to Marie's house once on the pretext of having a reading, just so I could see what she was really like. Mum always said she practiced bad voodoo and I wanted to see for myself. To be honest, Marie gave me the creeps, and I got a really bad feeling about her. As soon as the reading was over, I just wanted to get out of there and never come back. As I was leaving Marie's, Andrew turned up, so I recognized him as soon as I saw him at the clinic." She took a sip of water from a cup by her bed and swallowed slowly. "I thought that seeing as he was my cousin it might be easier for me to try and find out what was going on, rather than the police."

A thought popped into my head. "I forgot to ask, how's your baby?"

"What baby?"

"I found a pregnancy test in your room."

"It was a false alarm. Thank God. Everything was so complicated, what with Liza and Steven and Elliot, I couldn't have handled being pregnant as well."

"So you didn't use the pregnancy as a way to see Andrew at the Second Chance Clinic?"

She smiled for the first time. "Actually, I did. I knew they did terminations there, and even though I'd done the home pregnancy test and it was negative, I thought I'd use it as a way to get to talk to him—you know, pretending that I wanted a proper pregnancy test done to confirm it." She tucked her matted hair behind her ear. "When I was there, I noticed that there were a lot of prostitutes using the clinic. One was the same woman I'd seen coming out of the Holbrook Clinic before, and it got me thinking. Why would she be using this Holbrook Clinic when the Second Chance Clinic could've performed the termination? How could she even afford the Holbrook Clinic if she was a prostitute?"

"So you went to talk to some of the working girls at Chequer Street?

She nodded. "I found out several of them had gone missing and kind of put two and two together. I started researching transplants and found out about organ trafficking and transplant tourism, and I realized they must be luring these women to the Holbrook Clinic to have their organs harvested."

"So you wanted to make it look like you'd disappeared so you could hide out at Liza's parents' house in Dorset?"

She bit her lip. "But Andrew must've been suspicious and followed me. As soon as I got to Liza's parents' house, he managed to grab me and drug me. The next thing I knew I woke up in here." She reached out her hand and held mine. "And I have you to thank for saving my life."

"No thanks needed. I'm just glad you're safe." I smiled at her.

"Unlike Liza and all the others." She shook her head.

"I'm really sorry about Liza." I gave her hand a squeeze.

"Me too. But at least Jeff and Val will finally know what happened to her."

I nodded. "Where's Steven's car?"

"I don't know. Maybe Andrew got someone to move it so no one would find it."

"You know, if Steven had just told me what was going on from the beginning, I could've helped you sooner."

"I made him promise not to tell anyone where I'd gone or something bad would happen to me."

"He's still in love with you."

She glanced away. "I know. It's just…well, I'm not in love with him anymore."

"And what about Elliot? He's pretty loved up, too."

She shrugged. "I need to get myself back together again before I think about having a relationship."

I grinned. "Wise move. And speaking of relationships, I've got a wedding to sort out." I stood up and hugged her. "You take care now."

At six a.m. I was knocking on the door of the number one fashion designer in the world. A while ago I'd got the mob off Umberto Fandango's back and stopped them from giving him some very unflattering concrete boots, so he owed me a favor. If he couldn't sort out a gorgeous wedding dress for me, then who could?

I knocked on his door and waited, tapping my foot. His two cars were outside, so I guessed he was in. Any normal person would be snuggled up safely in bed at this ridiculous time in the morning.

Umberto answered the door with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He wore his usual smoking jacket and I've-just-been-Tangoed spray tan. Yep, I know. Who wears smoking jackets in the twenty-first century? Still, he knew a lot more about fashion than me; maybe they were making a comeback.

"Amber, honey! Whaddaya doing here at"—he glanced at his watch—"some God-awful time in the morning." His American accent echoed in the stillness of the morning air. "Are you okay?" He pulled me toward him in a big bear hug.

"I'm fine. I need a favor, actually." I grinned.

He spread his arms wide. "Anything for you, you know that. Whaddaya need?"

"A wedding dress. And I've seen just the right one in your new collection."

"You're getting married? Congratulations! Who's the groom? Brad?" He tilted his head in question.

"Yep. We're finally going to do it."

"Well, it's about time! So, let me guess…" He stood back, examining me. "You want something subtle and understated, right?"

"Yep."

"When do you need it by?" He pulled me into the house.

"Next week."

He threw his head back and laughed. "I like a challenge!"

* * *

Three hours later, after I'd been pinned, primped, adjusted, and admired to death by Umberto, I let myself into Mum and Dad's house with my spare key.

"Amber!" Mum looked up from reading a magazine at the kitchen island. She slid off the breakfast stool. "How's Brad? We've all been waiting for news." She hugged me.

"He's great! He's made an amazing recovery and should be out in a few days. I'm pretty sure that's thanks to Nicole."

She hugged me tighter. "Oh, that's wonderful news. Do you want some breakfast? I bet you haven't eaten since yesterday, have you?" She popped some bread in the toaster without waiting for an answer and switched the kettle on.

As if on cue, my stomach gave a protest rumble. "That sounds great, thanks. Have you got the number of a decent hairdresser? I wasn't impressed with the last one I used."

"What have you done now? Have you got paint in your hair again?" She glanced back at me, narrowing her eyes at my hair.

"Nope."

"Set a building on fire? You know heat is not good for your hair."

"Nope. I did kind of set my hair on fire, though."

"Agh!" She gasped and walked over to me, examining my hair. "I thought there was something different about you. It's shorter on one side."

"Yes, that was an accident. Oh, and by the way, I'm getting married!" I squawked, which sounded a lot like a budgie on speed.

"Agh!" More gasping. She clutched her chest. "When? I need to get mine done, too."

"Next week. We're going to go somewhere romantic and exotic. We haven't decided where yet. I need to have a look at some travel companies on the internet."

"Oh." Her voice deflated and her eyebrows crinkled in a hurt expression. "So…we won't be there for your wedding?"

"Of course you will! You're coming, too. We're going to fly everyone out there. I hope your passports are in date."

Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "How fantastic! We renewed them last year so they're fine. Oh, this is so exciting." She delved in one of the kitchen drawers. "Suzy uses a hairdresser called Amanda who comes to the house. Where did I put Amanda's number?" She found an address book and pulled it out, dropping it on the floor in her excitement. "Butter fingers!" She picked it up and flicked through it, scrawling out a number on a piece of paper.

I took it and sniffed the air. "The toast's burning."

"Oh!" She flicked the switch on the toaster to eject the very black-looking toast. "The excitement's too much for me."