WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (16 page)

I
closed my eyes and fell into the moment.

His
lips, pressing no harder than butterfly wings, tickled as they fluttered down
my neck below my ear. 

Brought
out of myself, a burst of pleasure took over me, tenfold due to the strenuous
day.  I felt free and alive, and so, when he kissed me on the mouth again,
I cupped his face to keep him there.

Several
long moments later, he pulled away and looked deep into my eyes.  As
though stunned by the intense connection, we continued gazing.  Were we at
last, really
seeing
each other?

 “Aw…
Chelsea,” he said in a sugared voice.  “How could anyone want to hurt
you
?”

A
second later, there was a hitch in his breathing.  I waited, my heart rate
climbing to explosive levels.  But then, he groaned in pain, rolled his
shoulders and stretched his back. 

The
passionate moment went altogether when I caught sight of his irritating wall
clock.  Just over two hours to go.  My heart, now beating at full
volume again, sounded so loud I wondered if he could hear it.  Sickness
welled like a heavy pendulum swaying in the pit of my stomach.

With
his muscles now stretched, Lee faced me and held my gaze with his delicious
eyes.  He lifted an eyebrow.  “We’ve got an hour or so before you
need to go upstairs and hide.”

I
slumped against the sofa and considered racing for the bathroom to empty my
stomach.  “I’m sorry... but the time.  I feel as though I’m going to
be sick.  I just want to get this over with.  I’ve really had
enough.”

He
nodded, wrapped his arms around me and squeezed.  He understood, or at
least pretended to. 

More
than an hour passed filled by pottering, pacing, and controlling my turbulent
stomach. 

Lee
rewired the bowling ball trap.  “All done.  I’ll be down in a
minute.”  He went up to use the bathroom while I gathered my belongings
ready to take my position upstairs. 

Someone
would soon be coming for me.

And
that someone wanted me dead.

I
was forty minutes away from the most terrifying climax of my life.  If I
got through this, I knew exactly how I intended to celebrate. 

I’d
had a small taste of it already.

An
unfamiliar tune rang from the kitchen.  It wasn’t my ring tone. 
Lee’s?  I darted into the kitchen and shouted, “Lee.  Is that your
phone?” 

He
didn’t answer. 

The
sound led me into a cupboard where a mobile was trying to spin in a circle next
to a tin of mushroom soup.  The caller rang off.  I sauntered back to
the sofa and set the phone on the coffee table, ready for him.

I
couldn’t stop staring at it.

Feeling
naughty, I grabbed hold of the mobile and scrolled down the contact list. 
If my name wasn’t here, I intended to add it - a hint for Lee to phone me once
this nightmare ended.  I scrolled further down the list. 
Nothing. 
Maybe he’s mis-spelled it.
  I continued tapping my
thumb on the down button, convinced my name would appear. 

That’s
when I spotted something strange. 

The
name Lee was in the list, and tagged on the end, the nickname ‘bro,’
caught
my attention.

This
phone belonged to Lee’s brother, Daryl. 

I
held it loosely, momentarily scared because it belonged to a dead person. 
When I looked back at the contact list and spotted another name that
didn’t
belong, I knew for certain someone had lied.

My
jaw fell open seeing Laura’s details in the entries. 
Laura, landlord.
 
The phone slipped through my shaky fingers and thudded on the floor. 

Hearing
little more than my heartbeat rapping in my chest, I leaned forward and let my
head droop.  Dropping the phone must have knocked a button.  The
photo gallery popped up on the screen.  Staring at the mobile between my
feet, I tried unravelling the reason why Laura’s number would be programmed
into Daryl’s phone, when she’d said she didn’t know him.  I scooped the
mobile up and flicked through a few of the photos; Lee.  A cluster of men
smiling in a bar.  Older people, possibly his parents.  Then one of
Daryl.  He was standing outside the huge window of a hairdressing
shop. 

Poor
guy,
I thought,
what really happened to you? 

Studying
the photo, deep in thought, my eyes wandered to the right of Daryl’s
shoulder.  There, reflecting back from a large mirror behind the window of
the hairdressing shop, stood a female with jaw-length black hair.  A
mobile phone covered half of her face as she held the phone out to take the
photo that she starred in. 

This
was Laura.  I felt sure of it. 

I
scrolled through the contact list again, landed on her name and pressed dial to
double-check.  I put the phone to my ear, waited and listened, my heart
ready to explode.

The
call was answered after four rings.  “Hello?  Who in the hell is
this?  Why do you have this phone?”

I
recognised her voice straight away, hung up and chucked the mobile onto the
other sofa. 
The lying little...

Laura’s
voice had sounded shocked.  Of course it had.  She’d just accepted a
call from a dead guy she claimed not to know.

She
knew him.

Bingo.

I
t may have been
ill-mannered, but I felt that I had to question Laura first, alone. 

I
returned the mobile to the cupboard and scribbled Lee a quick note.

‘Gone
to meet Laura.  Don’t follow or phone.  Thanks for all your help. 
One big kiss.’

I
grabbed my handbag and mobile, moved booby traps aside, then hurried out of
Lee’s front door.  My shoulders felt heavy.  Confusion from the
questions in my mind was weighing me down.  I trudged to the end of the
dark street and phoned for a taxi, then phoned Laura and demanded that she meet
me. 

After
locking the front door of my home behind me, I clicked on all the lights until
I reached the kitchen, where I grabbed a serrated bread knife from the
drawer.  Poking my head around doors and listening for movement, I swept
the entire house with the knife pointed forward in my shaking hand.  The
steak knives from my bathroom wall had been removed, but the lipstick words
remained on the wall above the toilet, along with patches of black from where
the police must have dusted for prints.  It made me shudder.  I
whipped around, exited and slammed the bathroom door shut.

After
double-checking for signs of an intruder, I re-entered the kitchen. 
Having placed the knife on the bench, I blew out a long breath, satisfied that
I was alone and no longer needed to gumshoe around my own house like a
burglar.  I stepped into the dining room and came to a stop in front of my
computer.  The place where my nightmare started. 

I
attempted to think through the mayhem.  Then my mobile rang.  

Lee’s
name flashed onto the screen.  With my head reeling, I cancelled the
call.  Three times.  Then sent him a quick text:

‘I’m
fine.  I’ll phone later.  C.’

Laura
shouted, “Hey,” through the letterbox.  Her spare key clicked in the lock.

I
set my mobile down, and then stood in the centre of the room facing the open
door that led to the hall. 

On
entering the dining room, Laura’s expression rearranged. 

“I
found Daryl’s phone.”  I paused to let my words sink in.  “Your number’s
in it.  How do you explain that?”

A
sour look crossed her face and she fiddled with her engagement ring.  She
spun the diamond round and round her finger at speed with her other hand. 
I figured she was unaware of her own nervousness. 

“What’s
going on?” I demanded.  “We’re back here again, aren’t we?  You’d
better not hold out on me this time.”

I
stepped closer. 

Laura
shifted sideways. 

We
mirrored each other, stomping in a circle between the sofa, desk and
window. 

“How
do you know Daryl?” I asked.  “It was
me
who called you from his
mobile.  I know you were surprised, after all, why would a dead guy phone
you?”

Her
gaze plummeted to the floor.

“Look
at me, Laura.” I tried to engage her eyes.  “I am your friend, so talk to
me.  I know you’re the link to Daryl.  I need to know
why.”  

Slowly,
she lifted her gaze.  “Are you alone?”

I
nodded. 

She
peered back into the hall, which suggested to me that she thought I’d
lied.  “Lee’s definitely not here?”

We
exchanged an irritated glance. 

“It’s
just you and me, so get on with it.  Spill.”

She
blinked several times.  Tears welled in her eyes. 

I
sensed straight away I wasn’t going to enjoy her explanation.

“I
had a… fling… with Daryl.” 

I
coughed out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding in, then said, “Bloody
hell!  I didn’t expect that.”

Laura
scanned the room again, as if wanting to dive for the nearest exit.  “I
ended it about a month ago.”  Her voice sounded cold and broken.

I
wasn’t sure about my feelings.  Was I disappointed, shocked, angry on
Paul’s behalf?  Not knowing my friend as well as I thought really hurt
me.  “But Laura, you’re marrying Paul.  What on earth were you
thinking?  How did it all start?”

“Well,
you know Daryl is…”  She paused.  “
Was
a psychiatrist?  I
had a few sessions with him after my parents died.”

“I
thought he rented one of your houses or something.  The word ‘landlord’
was next to your name in his phone.”

“Oh,
that.  It’s nothing.  Daryl lists clients by profession, you know Jo
the builder, John the doctor.  It helped him put a face to his clients
quicker.  Anyway, then I bumped into him several months ago and we went
for a drink.  Things just... happened.  Whenever Paul was at the gym
or somewhere, we got together.”

“I
see.”  I tried to get my head around Laura being unfaithful to Paul with
the dead man I only knew from a photo.

“It
sounds so wrong now, but at the time…”

Laura
seemed so smitten with her ‘perfect’ Paul that I found it difficult to believe
she’d ever cheat on him.

Looking
at my computer pulled my thoughts back to the main problem.  “Where do the
email threats fit in?” 

She
sniffed.  “The emails aren’t death threats.  I’ve been telling you
that all along.  Your life is definitely
not
in danger,
Chelsea.” 

“But
someone broke into my house.  So, what in the hell..?”

Laura
made a throaty sound as if her next words would choke her.  “A deadline.”

“A
deadline for what?”

She
sucked in a shaky breath.  “I thought Daryl sent the emails at
first.  He was angry and upset after we broke up.”

I
nodded.  “And?”

“After
his death, my emails kept coming.”

“Who
do you think is sending them, and why am I involved?”

“Someone
warned me that they plan to expose my affair to Paul.  You’re a trial run,
Chelsea.”

I
blinked fast.  “A what?”

“Whoever’s
doing this threatened to tell
you
first, so I’d believe he, or she, is
serious about telling Paul next.”  Laura shrugged.  “That’s as much
as I know.”

“Why
would someone send me cryptic emails with ticking clocks and stab my bathroom
wall?”

“Stab
what?”

“Didn’t
I tell you that part?  It was more than just writing.  It scared
me.  Anyway, it would be easier just to tell me straight, or better still,
send the messages to Paul.  Are you absolutely sure that no one wants to
kill me?”

Laura
nodded.  “Positive.  I wouldn’t lie about something like that. 
Look, no one’s tried to attack you tonight, have they?  The death threat
is a bluff.” 

The
weight behind her words started to convince me she was right.  Yes. 
I was still here, breathing.

Laura
continued.  “The word ‘slag’ in the email refers to
me
, not
you.  If someone stabbed your wall, that was also just to scare me, not
you.  I’m sorry that you’ve become involved.”

“Okay. 
So, how does someone know you haven’t already told me and Paul about the
affair?”

Laura
held out her palms.  “I don’t have all the answers.  And I don’t know
why they’ve gone about it this way.  Who knows what’s going through their
sick head?” 

“My
timer runs out…”  I sidestepped, shot my gaze to the clock in the kitchen
then back.  “Anytime now.  So why hasn’t someone contacted me yet to
spill the beans on your affair?”

Judging
by Laura’s strained face, I hadn’t heard the worst of it. 

Something
occurred to me.  “You said someone
was
going to expose the
affair? 
Was.
  What changed their mind?”

A
daunting few seconds of silence seemed to chill the house as she clammed up and
gave me a hard stare. 

I
returned it.  “Well?”

“I
gave in.  Keeping my secret comes at a high price.”

“You’re
being blackmailed?”  My voice jumped up an octave.  “You’re shittin’
me.”  I could hardly believe it.  Poor Laura.

“Yes. 
Blackmail.”  She sounded like a vulnerable child, and plonked herself onto
the sofa.

I
dropped down onto the sofa beside her, staring blankly across the room,
stunned.  Although relieved to hear that my life wasn’t on the line,
uncovering the truth by no means thrilled me.  “So, you think this is just
about money?”

She
nodded.

“But
you let me believe someone was trying to kill me!” I gushed.  “How could
you do that?”

Laura
shook her head fast.  “No.  Never.  I kept saying you’d got it
wrong.  I didn’t want you to know I was unfaithful.” 

“I
see.”  Laura’s version of the emails was different to mine from the start. 
How could I have expected her to see it from my point of view when she had so
much plaguing her mind?  I pictured the emails, realised they never quoted
‘death.’
  That’s just how I’d interpreted it, encouraged by Lee and
the mystery surrounding his dead brother - now apparently Laura’s
ex-lover.  “This is some crazy shit, Laura.”  I wondered how I could
help her.

Laura
curled her legs up to her thighs on the sofa and muttered, “Sure is.”  She
looked twisted, frail, as though she’d break apart if she moved.  She
needed comfort, needed her best friend.  M
e
. 

I
hugged her. 

She
shuddered at first then relaxed in my arms. 

“Thank
you,” she whispered.

She
felt warmer now, and snug, but inside I knew she must have been broken and
listless.  When we ended the hug, I looked at her, silently trying to
convey that we’d find a way to work things out together.  She attempted to
smile, but I’d also just learned how well she could cover up her true
feelings. 

I
broke off and held her at arms length.  “How much money do they want?”

“A
lot.”

An
image of cash flashed into my mind.  “So that money I found in your
wardrobe—”

“Yep.” 
She nodded.  “Bang on thirty-five grand.”

I
cupped my chin, at first unable to close my gaping mouth.  “Jesus! 
That much?  I get it now, why you yelled at me for snooping.  So
who’s doing this?”

“The
only person I can think of is Lee.”

I
gulped.

“Daryl
must have told him about us.”

I
closed my eyes, picturing Lee’s handsome face.  Is that what it looked
like from her perspective?  No wonder she wasn’t happy about me spending
time with him.

I
tilted my head as if to plead.  “It must be someone other than Lee. 
Who did you tell?”

“I
didn’t even tell
you,
Chelsea.”

“Then
someone saw you.”

“Perhaps,
but we were discreet.  Lee is the obvious suspect.”

“Obvious
doesn’t mean guilty.  Could Daryl have told someone?”

“You
mean apart from Lee?” she fired back.

I
stood, then stomped across the room in silence for a moment, wheeling ideas
through my head.  “What about contact details and text messages? 
Love notes?  Could someone have read them?  Did you write Daryl’s
number anywhere?  Could someone have found his number and put it
together?”

“No. 
I had everything covered.  His number was only in my mobile and programmed
as ‘Emma.’”

“Oh!”
I said.  “Bet that confused you.”

Her
nose wrinkled.  “Not really.  The last two digits of his number were
sixty-nine.”

I
rolled my eyes.  “That figures.”

Laura
spent the next few minutes apologising for getting me dragged into her messy
affairs. 

Though
nothing actually changed, for a moment, in my mind, the lights blacked out,
background noises faded, and the floor tilted.  The world was collapsing
in on me.  I shut my eyes and swayed, experiencing Laura’s shrinking
hell.  No wonder she wanted to bury the truth.  Her recently odd
behaviour had been a smokescreen and nothing more.

“Daryl
is the reason why I went to that pole-dancing bar on my hen evening,” Laura
said.  “He liked the place, which surprised me once I saw it.  But he
said it was good for unwinding.  I couldn’t risk being spotted at the
funeral, so figured if I went there, it’d be a bit like paying my respect.”

“Did
you know Lee would be there on the same night?”

“Hell,
no,” Laura said with a cold chuckle in her tone.  “If I’d known that, I’d
never have set foot in the sleazy place.”

“I’m
sorry you didn’t feel able to talk to me about any of this,” I said.  “You
know I’d never tell Paul.”  I felt a smile coming on and sat down. 
“The fact that Lee didn’t tell me about the affair tonight means it isn’t
him.”  I put power into my voice.  “He’s innocent.”

She
gripped my arm.  “No.  Lee’s been using you to get to me.  He’s
not your friend.  It’s all an act.”