Minding Amy (3 page)

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Sebastian Armitage watched the woman high tail out of the bar with a regretful stare. What a siren. He'd been more than happy to go along with the rather surreal charade because she fascinated him. The fact she was one sexy lady had made it all the more interesting.

She'd obviously mistaken him for someone else, but why? He took another swig of his beer and glanced along the bar. The man who had caused her to take flight had a copy of The City News neatly folded beside his unused glass. He was drumming his fingertips on the polished surface of the bar, occasionally glancing toward the door behind him.

Sebastian wasn't a stickler about such things, but he knew he looked nothing like that bloke down there, apart from the similarity between his chosen drink and the newspaper in his possession. The man was pleasant enough, but no one could mistake them for brothers. The later arrival was slim and tall, sort of arty looking. It must have been a blind date, Sebastian surmised. How unfortunate it was for the other bloke that the siren had missed her target.

Sebastian smiled to himself. It was a shame he hadn't got her name and number before she'd taken off. Still, he'd enjoyed the interlude while it lasted. He glanced back at the man down the bar. His curiosity was about to get the better of him. Curiosity ran in Sebastian Armitage's veins. Hunting down information is what he did for a living, and he did it well. He stood up, picked up his bottle and the paper and walked along the bar behind the man. He almost felt as if he should apologize to him. Instead, he sat down next to him and glanced over at the paper.

"Excuse me, but is that the latest edition?"

The man started, glanced around and smiled as if relieved. He was clearly nervous about his blind date. Sebastian gave him his warmest "buddy" smile and gestured with the paper in his hand.

"I think you've got a more recent addition of The City News. Would you mind if I have a quick look at it if you're not reading it right now? It won't take a moment. I want to check something out."

"Of course," the man replied. "Although…I'd better hold your copy in exchange."

He looked embarrassed about the situation but Sebastian shrugged it off easily. He was feeling sorry for the poor bloke. The newspaper had definitely been the signal. He took the paper and sat on a stool about three away from his target. He flicked open the paper.

"It's an unusual one this, a weekly, but not a weekend day publication." It was a rhetorical statement, leaving it open for the other man to engage in conversation or not, as he chose. Sebastian was adept in such matters.

"I think that's where its strength lies, a bit like a serialized midweek TV show. You know, reliable, familiar, every Thursday evening you pick it up on the way home."

He started to chat—perhaps to take his mind off what he thought was his forthcoming meeting. He smiled and held out his hand. "Roger Green, I'm in TV myself but the similarities are there."

"Sebastian Armitage. Pleased to meet you." Sebastian did not give the nature of his business. He was quite used to sidestepping such things. "I'm new to this field," he offered. "I'd be grateful for your opinion of the paper. I've just been up there for a job, minor league stuff, but anything you could tell me would be helpful." It was somewhere near the truth, he was about to embark on a short-term contract with the paper.

"Sure," Roger replied. He glanced toward the door again, then at his watch. "I did have a date, but it looks as if I might have been stood up." He gave a wry smile and turned his attention to the timely distraction that had been offered, opening the paper to the editorial and contents list.

"Their loss is my gain," Sebastian replied, although that wasn't quite what he was thinking.
More like your loss is my gain
. And would he be able to get Roger to divulge the name of the sexy siren, along the way? It was certainly worth a shot.

Chapter Two

"Don't ask." Amy declared when Janine walked into the office the next morning. She put her elbows on her desk and her chin sank onto her hands. "I blew it, big time."

Janine looked cool and efficient in a jade linen dress, a matching jacket hanging from one finger. She flipped her sunglasses onto her desk and stood looking at her forlorn colleague with a frown. "You didn't get to spend the evening with the man of your dreams?"

"Nope." She had spent the rest of the evening thinking about the man of her dreams, and most of the night too, but it was a mixture of restless fantasizing about the gorgeous stranger, punctuated with bouts of frustration and embarrassment over what had happened.

"Not the Quasimodo complex?"

"Far from it, the guy I met was gorgeous, a total hunk with dreamy green eyes. Charming too."

"So, what's the problem?"

"I met the wrong guy."

"You did what?" Janine's eyes began to sparkle with amusement.

"I started talking to the wrong guy." Amy folded her arms across her chest defensively. "By the time I realized and saw the other one, the real Roger, I was up to my neck in trouble."

Janine rested back on her desk to support herself. "Blimey. It could only happen to you."

"Tell me about it." Amy shook her head in dismay. Sadly, it was true. She was ditzy and ill fated, no way around it.

"And what was the real Roger like?"

Amy struggled to remember. It was difficult to get the picture of the gorgeous stranger out of her head. "It's hard to say."

Janine laughed aloud. "This hunk of yours must have been good, if you started chatting to him and you can't remember anyone else in the pub. It's a wonder you even noticed Roger was there at all."

Amy nodded. It was kind of funny, but she wasn't ready to laugh about it yet.

"So you didn't have your date with Roger. Please tell me you got the hunk's number."

Amy shrugged helplessly

"Oh dear, and did you explain it to Roger?"

"No, I just left."

"So…he will be ringing here any minute now to ask why you didn't turn up for the date."

Amy nodded.

Janine shook her head then leapt away from her desk when the phone blared from behind her at that very moment. "That'll be him now," she declared.

Amy gave her an imploring look.

"Oh, no. No way." Janine waved her hands, backing behind her desk, when she saw Amy's face. "You answer it yourself, matey, you got yourself into this mess."

Amy stared at the loud, offensive machine, dumbstruck. What on earth was she going to say to him? It had to be done.

"Hello, Women's Page," she faltered, as she picked up her phone.

"I'd like to speak to a Ms. Amy Norton, please."

She breathed a huge sigh of relief. It didn't sound like Roger's voice. The caller had a cockney accent.

"You found her."

"Oh, hi, I'm phoning from the set of Ghost Hunter."

She tensed again.

"My name is Jake. I'm the soundman. I understand you are the journalist writing up the story of Quentin's disappearance."

She relaxed.

"That's right." Amy had to force out the little white lie. She hadn't yet secured permission to pursue the feature. She still had to convince her father how serious she was about it at the meeting later that morning, but she wasn't about to put off a potential lead in the meantime.

"Well, I'm an old friend of Quentin's and…I'm concerned."

"Inevitably so, Mr.?"

"Brent, Jake Brent, but call me Jake, please."

"Okay, Jake, did you have something you felt our readers would like to know about Quentin?" Amy reached for her notebook and pen. She had planned to begin her investigations at the filming studios, but after the dreadful mix-up with Roger, that starting point had gone out of the window. If all went well with her father later that morning, she could begin with Jake's story instead.

"Possibly… "

"But you're concerned about privacy?"

"It's not that, it's well…it's awkward."

Amy's sensors focused. The man obviously had information.

"I believe Quentin got a bit too involved in some of the more esoteric aspects of the show here."

"Esoteric?"

"I mean things like the occult." He paused, as if to measure her response.

Amy swallowed. The occult? What sort of a can of worms was she opening up here? "I see," she said, wishing she didn't. "Can you give me any specific examples?"

"I know he took a particular interest in one of the houses we filmed at. It's said to have been built on the site of a witches' coven in the sixteenth century. Ever since then he was kind of different. Preoccupied, moody."

"Perhaps you could give me the details of this place and I'll make a note of it." She began to scribble, thanking him and asking him to get back in touch if he heard any other news.

All the time her internal voice kept reminding her to be professional. She wished it didn’t sound creepy. Occult or no occult, it was a good lead.

* * * *

"Trixie, love, come in." Richard Norton stood up from his desk when Alison, his secretary, showed Amy in to his office.

Amy gave her Father a warning glance as she took her seat. Trixie was his pet name for her and he knew she'd long since grown out of it. She settled down, placing her notepad on the arm of the chair and folding her hands loosely in her lap. She had worn one of her favorite office outfits, a smart but feminine tailored trouser suit in cream. It helped her feel every bit as cool and assured as she needed to appear. She noticed her father's tie was at half-mast. Even as a little girl she remembered her Mother would sort his tie out every morning and as soon as he stepped outside, he would loosen it.

It was her father's shining career as an investigative journalist that had inspired Amy to go into journalism herself. He was a grass roots reporter at heart and his more recent office-bound senior editor post chafed. Like father like daughter, she wanted to be out in the thick of it too. Amy loved interviewing people, capturing their enthusiasm for their particular field. Ideally she would like to bring more of that into the Women's Page, but it was traditionally based on tidbits pulled together from press releases and product launches.

"It's a good proposal." He toyed with her memo regarding the Ghost Hunter feature. "Popular media figure in trouble, large readership interest."

"And..?" She was itching to get on with it. She knew she'd put together a good proposal, but she hadn't approached him for a job like this before.

"And…I don't know why you want to take it on. Your work for the Women's Page is respected."

"I appreciate you saying that, but I'd like to break it up with something a bit more challenging."

He nodded, pursing his mouth. "This is well thought out." He gestured again at the memo. "But I want you to walk me through the proposal. I want to know what motivates you to pursue this."

He wasn't about to make it easy for her. Amy took a deep breath. "I was attracted to it firstly because, as you say, the readership interest is already there. He's a popular personality and people want to know what's going on with him. It is real news they want though, not something the rumor mill has churned out for them."

He nodded at her, suppressing a smile.

"The missing celebratory story is interesting in itself. If I was able to pursue it as it unfolds I could get a major scoop in the making. That really motivates me—to be there when the reasons for his disappearance are unfolded, that would be a big story."

"You're willing to admit there may be nothing more than speculation to be had, but you hope for something more?"

"Exactly." He'd conceded to her reasoning. The job was almost within her grasp.

He contemplated the memo again, one finger tapping against his chin as he re-read it. He glanced up at her, frowning. "This could be dangerous work. A missing person, high profile. Could be criminal involvement."

She wondered if all his journalists got this kind of pep talk, or if it was because it was his own daughter sitting there in the hot seat. "I do realize that, Dad. I'm twenty-seven years old and quite capable of looking after myself. I assure you I won't let you down."