WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (18 page)

Anger
boiled deep in my gut.  Protecting Laura dominated my thoughts, but
underneath, I wanted a suspect other than the man who put fizz into my heart,
and a bounce into my stride.  “You’ve got him all wrong.”

She
set her hand on my knee.  “Just one call, Chelsea, and we might end this
thing tonight.  If he’s innocent, then he should understand and forgive you.” 

“Yeah,
right,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

Laura
pursed her lips.  Lines of worry dented her silky complexion like deep
scars.  A chilling judder moved through my body.  I never wanted to
see this horrific look on her face again.  It wasn’t hard to see how
desperately she was trying to pull herself out of the dark pit that swallowed
her almost whole. 

I
wanted the old Laura back. 

“It’s
just one, quick phone call to warn him off.”

I
covered my face with my hands.  “That simple, huh?”

“Will
you do it?” she asked.  “He’ll probably listen to you.  If you won’t,
then give me his number and I’ll phone him.”

The
silence after her question ended when her shoe scraped the floor.  “What’s
it to be?” 

I
parted my fingers and stared at her distressing face. 

She
crossed her legs towards me.

“This
is insane.  You’re so wrong.”  Something was seriously plucking at my
heart strings.  “But, okay.  I’ll do it.”

She
stood up to get my mobile.  Knowing that Lee might never forgive me for wrongly
accusing him again, caused a riot in my stomach, and tears to tingle behind my
eyes.  Before I talked myself out of it, I grabbed my mobile from her, and
quite literally punched the dial button with my fingertip.  I reminded
myself that I’d known Lee for less than a week, and Laura for an
eternity.  Her safety and sanity had to take precedence over my desires.

“Hey,
Chelsea.”  Lee sounded shocked but happy to hear from me.  “I’m
worried about you.  Have you seen the time?  Why did you disappear?”

I looked
away from Laura’s pained face in order to think straight.  “How long had
Daryl had that email account, Lee?”

“I
don’t know.  A while.”

“Why
didn’t you show me any of his other messages?”

“There
weren’t any.  None linked to this.”

Laura
nudged me, and my heart lurched.  Once I spoke there was no going
back.  I took a deep breath.  “Lee.  We’ve sussed you out. 
We know it’s you and can prove it.  This ends now.”  Every syllable
stung.

“Chelsea?”

Laura
angled her head to listen in.

“Let’s
stop pretending,” I said, forcing a firm voice.  “One more call, one more
text, one more sick, freakin’ message or demand, and I’ll get the police onto
you.  There’ll be no wriggling out of this one.  I swear it. 
Get me?”

“What
the hell are you…”

“Save
your bullshit!”  I touched my face, felt a tear.  I had to speed up
my words before I could no longer get any more out.  “You make one more
move and you’ll go to the hole for this.  We’re not keeping quiet any
more.  It’s Daryl who’s at fault.  He took advantage.”  I hung
up, mentally tortured.  I hurled my phone onto the sofa and couldn’t stop
tears raining down my cheeks. 
No.  It isn’t him.  It can’t
be.
  If Laura’s theory about Lee was correct, then I’d just made a
thirty-five thousand pound phone call. 

“Oh,
Jeez!”  Laura gasped, and her hand slapped over her mouth. 

“Jeez,
what?”

“You’ve
already fallen for him, haven’t you?”

I
stopped myself saying she was right.  “Don’t be daft.” 

If
threatening him was the right thing, then why did it hurt so damn much? 

I
jumped out of
bed with renewed vigour and flew downstairs.  No messages or calls. 
It was a quarter to eight.  I logged into my email account to check for
messages.  My stomach seemed to drop down my body like an escalator, when
I spotted the word ‘urgent’ on a subject line.  I clicked on the email and
discovered it to be an advert for Viagra. 

While
eating breakfast, I punched a quick message to Laura asking if anyone had made
contact, then stared at the phone in my jam-sticky hand.  I knew that
involving the police was the right thing to do, but once I made the call, there
would be no reversing it.  Contacting the cops felt like pushing Laura off
a building.  Going against her would mean throwing our friendship clean
away.  I stopped staring at the phone, licked my fingers, took the plunge
and dialled Officer Baines. 

When
his answer service came on, doubt flew back in.  With my head buzzing, my
loyalty to Laura won over.  “Hi, it’s Chelsea Denham.  I’m
fine.  The emails were a misunderstanding, turned out to be...”  I
looked at the computer.  “Viagra adverts.  Crazy, isn’t it?  And
the writing in my bathroom, well, it was just a prank.  One of my friends
got drunk and... you know.  Anyway, sorry to waste your time.  I feel
terrible about it.”  I hung up and swore at myself.  I’d promised
Laura I’d not say a word to the police until Friday.

Treating
the day as though the exchange was still going ahead, I went upstairs to
wash.  I wasn’t sure about what to wear for a money drop, but figured
black casual clothes were a sensible choice. 

Hearing
my phone ring propelled me back downstairs.  I grabbed my mobile off the
dining table.  Lee’s name flashed across the screen.  A powerful
throb inside my ribs snatched my breath away.  I bit my lip as the ringing
continued.  Unsure of what to do, I cancelled the call. 

I
pottered around my house, and eventually, Laura phoned.

“Christ,
Chelsea!  He stills want the money.”

I
gasped and lay my hand over my chest.  “So what are you going to do?”

“I’m
already doing it.  I’m pulling up outside your house right now in a
taxi.  Jump in.  We need to rush.”

I
hung up and searched for my house keys. 

I
didn’t phone Lee back, but if Laura was right, he’d be at the drop point
anyway. 

After
locking up, I jumped into the taxi and we sped off down the street. 

“I’d
have done this alone, but I need your help.”  Laura squeezed my hand and
her lips formed an optimistic curve.  “Sorry to spring this on you. 
They haven’t given me much time.  I’d have driven, but couldn’t risk my
car getting spotted.”

“I’m
not happy about this,” I said.

After
what seemed like forever, we left the crowd of traffic and arrived near a
bridge on the outskirts of town.  The deserted, country lane ran parallel
to the main road of traffic flowing beneath the bridge.  Under a canopy of
clouds, the lane revealed no signs of activity other than us.  Laura paid
the taxi driver, and then struggled to drag a large purple rucksack out of the
footwell.  She plonked it on the ground.

The
taxi drove off, leaving us standing alone in the rain which pecked at my head
and shoulders.  Laura opened an umbrella, held it above us, and then
passed me her mobile phone.  “I didn’t really want to talk about things in
the taxi.”

I
read the message:

‘Follow
the instructions to lower the cash.  Pay me on time, or kiss your fiancé
goodbye.’

“Oh,
not good,” I mumbled, handing it back.

When
she looked at the time on her mobile, her face drained of the optimism she
displayed during the journey.  Frowning, she pointed to the ground. 
“Help me carry this?” 

I
slung my handbag over my shoulder.  Charged with purpose, we hoisted the
rucksack, supporting it underneath. 

“This
is heavy,” I said.

“Notes
and coins as instructed.”

“Heck! 
It feels like bricks,” I said, struggling to walk with the load.  “Why the
purple bag?”

“Would
you rather it was pink?”

“No,
I mean—”  I slipped in the rain.

“It’s
purple.  Purple, okay?  I didn’t have another one.”

“Where
are we taking it?”

She
signalled to the bridge.  “We have to go up there.”

We
climbed some steps up the stone arch bridge.  Laura threw the umbrella up
to the top and gripped the bag with both hands.  No longer a crisp figure
beside me, Laura’s dainty form blurred under the cascade of rain. 

Once
on the top step, we dropped the bag.  I leaned over the edge wall until my
gaze hit the landscape below.  The road beneath, with cars speeding along,
resembled a rip in the green landscape.  “Whoa!”  Head swirling, I
pulled myself back up.

Laura
surveyed the scene. 

“What
now?  What about the video footage?”

“Over
there,” she said, before running the length of the bridge. 

Rain
trickled down my face, and my wet clothes were sticking to my skin.  I’d
not brought a suitable coat, but checking the weather forecast hadn’t been a
priority this morning.  I picked up Laura’s umbrella and held it above
me.  I watched her grab hold of the end of a thick rope that was trailing
over the wall at the opposite end of the bridge.  “Is someone coming to
meet us for the exchange?” I shouted.

She
lifted the end of the rope in the air.  “This is the exchange.  Come
and look.” 

I
hurried over. 

There
was a metal clasp on our end of the rope.  The rope, fed through a hook at
the top of the wall, trailed down the outer wall of the bridge. 

Laura
leaned over the side.  “There’s a mobile phone dangling half way down this
rope, Chelsea.  It must contain the footage of me and Daryl.”

I
ditched the umbrella and leaned over the wall.  The rope snaked all the
way down to the footpath at the side of the busy road below us.  “Well
what are you waiting for?  Haul it up.”

We
gripped the rope and pulled.  It moved no more than a foot. 
Something was weighing it down.

“Let
me look again.”  I leaned over and focused.  “It’s too far down to
see.  Is that rocks at the bottom?  Sand bags holding it down? 
I just don’t know.”

Laura
fiddled with the metal clasp.  “So, we clip the money to this, and drop it
over the bridge.  It’s a pulley system.  Counterbalance.”

Having
studied the scene, I figured we weren’t alone.  I pointed down with my
finger.  “Someone’s underneath… waiting to catch the money.”  My
stomach clenched.  I swiped my hand across my wet face.  “Let’s
attach something else and keep the cash.”

“Like
what?”

I
surveyed the bridge, looking for rocks, bricks...  I saw nothing.  Or
perhaps someone had made sure we wouldn’t find anything.  “Is that
definitely the phone containing the footage?”

“It
has to be or there’s no point being here.”  She pulled out her
mobile.  “I’ll dial the number and see if it rings, moves or something.”

With
the belting noise from the traffic below and the pattering rain, it was
impossible to hear a ring tone from the mobile which dangled on the rope.

“Let’s
take out the money.”  I said.  “We could replace it with our shoes...
your handbag.”

“It
might stir up more trouble if we trick whoever’s down there.  More trouble
is something I don’t want.  This is my decision.  My money.  I’m
attaching
all
of it.”

Laura
dashed away and dragged the bag to the rope.  She seemed lost in a private
bubble of concentration.  Using her phone, she took a photo of the money,
then zipped it up and hooked it to the end of the rope.  “Help me lift the
bag, will you?” she asked.

Once
the bag was balanced on the wall, a wave of panic took hold of me.  I
gripped her arm.  “No.  Laura.  I can’t let you do this. 
This is part of your inheritance.  You don’t even know for sure if the
footage is on that phone.  It might be a trick, a copy, and then they’ll
ask you for even more money.”

“What
choice do I have, Chelsea?”

“You
have choices, Laura.”

“I
don’t
like
my choices.  I may be foolish.”  She paused while I
gave her a sarcastic look.  “Okay, Chelsea.  I am foolish, but I’d
rather pay than risk losing Paul.  We haven’t got long to decide. 
They’ve given me an exact time to do this, or it’s over.”

Hard
as it was to believe that she intended to drop thirty-five thousand pounds in
cash, over a bridge, I knew there was no other way of keeping her secret – not
in the short time we had before the wedding.  I was out of ideas. 
The mobile was there, dangling a few storeys below.  What if it was the
phone containing the footage, the only copy, and by doing this, the nightmare
would end in seconds?

The
wind, rain and traffic noise that surrounded us, made it hard for me to think
straight.  I had goosebumps, my cheeks felt numb, and my wet hair was
sticking to my neck, irritating me.

Laura
glared at me, then at the bag.  The rain plastered her hair across her
impossibly pale face, and desperation shone in her dark eyes.  It filled
me with great sadness.

 I
didn’t want her to drop the money, but what would happen if she didn’t?  A
cancelled wedding would be bad enough if Paul found out the truth. 
However, would events take a fatal turn if she refused to pay?  Not
knowing the truth about Daryl’s death was a constant irritation like an itch
between shoulder blades - a place I couldn’t reach to make it go away. 
The thought of someone attacking her, killing her…

“I
just don’t know, Laura.  This doesn’t feel right.”

“I
need that phone.”  She pointed over the wall.  “There might even be
something on it to give us a clue as to who’s doing this.  The only other
option is to attach myself to the rope and jump.”

She
lifted a knee toward the top of the wall.

I
grabbed her arm and squeezed, digging my nails in.  “Jesus, Laura! 
Are you insane?”

Noticing
my reaction, she brought her foot back to ground level.  “Sorry, Chelsea,”
she said, bringing her voice down, too.  “Stupid way to make a point.”

I wasn’t
in the mood for sick jokes.  “Isn’t there enough to worry about without
you threatening suicide?”

“You
didn’t think I was seriously going to—”

I
wiped my brow, lied and said, “Of course not.  But if you’d climbed on the
wall you could have slipped.”  The idea didn’t seem so farfetched after
everything I’d learned recently.  After all, Laura seemed willing to jump
through fiery hoops for this faceless person, so why not add a bridge bungee to
the list of exploits?

The
whole scenario seemed so absurd that I wondered if I was still in bed, asleep.

“I’d
rather drop the money than my best friend,” I said.  “Point taken.”

“Maybe
I am losing my mind,” she muttered.  “But they won’t keep the phone
dangling down there forever.”  She noted the time.  “One and a half
minutes, Chelsea.  My only real option is to drop the cash, isn’t it?”

I
nodded without thought, still a little shocked. 

I
struggled to come up with an alternative way to get our hands on the phone,
while at the same time wanting to slap her for that little frightener. 
“One of us should run down there to catch whoever’s lurking under this bridge.”

Laura
shook her head.  “By the time you’ve run down, they’ll be long gone. 
Why do you think they planned it this way?  Or, if you do manage to see
their face, they might attack you or something.”  Laura checked the
time.  “I’ve got one minute.  I’m texting the picture proving the
money’s in the bag, and in position, and then I’ll push it over.  If I
don’t, they’ll leave and tell Paul about my affair.  I don’t want either
of us to get hurt in the process.”   She fiddled with her mobile.

Laura,
following the instructions like a lamb, annoyed me.  Tension loomed over
us.  The rain pounded my face.  The chill hurt my hands.

After
a heated moment of arguing, while stomping back and forth across the bridge, I
pointed at the wall towards the bag of cash while screaming the words, “Your
parents worked hard for—”  With my mouth gaping open, no more words came
out. 

I
was pointing at air.

Where
the hell did the rucksack go?

I
rushed to the wall screeching, “Where’s the money?  Where is it?”

Laura
barrelled across and we leaned over the wall to look down at the road
below.   My stomach pressed against the rough stone-capped wall.

The
bag was almost at the bottom, plummeting at high speed.  The mobile came
shooting up towards us on the lighter end of the rope.  The object once
weighing it down stayed on the pavement. 

“Someone
tugged the bag off the wall from below,” I shouted.