WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (59 page)

CHRISTA

A
board creaked as I moved along the hallway.  “This house is giving me the
creeps lately.  A break-in, running taps, and that awful smell...”

“I know.  It’s weird,” my best friend Nicola said.

“Anyway, creepy or not, this is my home, and if anyone dares
to set one foot... this time I’ll be ready!”

Nicola gave me a shoulder-bump as we entered the
kitchen.  “Lighten up.  What burglar would be stupid enough to
attempt to break into the same place two nights on the trot,
and
to
venture out in this slippery weather?  Huh?”

I cracked a smile.  What she said was probably true,
but still, making it obvious that the house was occupied would surely ward off
a second sweep.  I wished I could go just one day without some unwelcome
issue pricking at my nerves.  I suspected that was a luxury only rich
people had. 

Nicola grabbed a pen and a roll of tape out of a drawer and
headed for the hall.  “You sort out some more drinks.  Let’s at least
try to have a happy evening.  I’ll be back in a minute.”

I opened a bottle of wine while Nicola tiptoed around
upstairs, doing... I had no idea what, but perhaps something for my birthday
tomorrow.  She’d moved in with me six months ago when she was between
houses, but it served us both equally well.  Her craft skills had proved
invaluable in helping me to restore this old Victorian house – still a work in
progress, but getting there.  It was her idea to make latex moulds of the
cornices and ceiling roses and fill them with plaster, so we could replace the
damaged sections.  But three weeks after she moved in, my marriage finally
crumbled and my husband moved out.  So on top of her skills, I was glad
for her company or it would have just been me and my daughter rattling around
in this huge house. 

Cold air seeped in through the edges of the boarded up
window above the sink - the entry point to last night’s burglary which happened
while we were at a Zumba class.  Thankfully, it got no further than
smashed crockery on the drainer.  The police found no evidence of who’d
done it, and being one of only two homes on this private loop of a street,
witnesses were at zero.

My mobile rang.  It was my cousin, Brad, checking up on
me.  “No, don’t cancel your plans,” I said.  “You’ve got a date,
right?”

“Yes.  But if you want a man in the house, I’m happy to
come over.” 
And flirt with Nicola, no doubt.

“Thanks, but we’ll be fine.  Go and enjoy
yourself.  I don’t want to spoil anyone else’s evening.”

After some brief chitchat, I hung up.  How lovely of
him to worry about me.

Nicola came back downstairs and joined me in the
kitchen.  “Christa, have you seen my mobile anywhere?”

“Nope.  Sorry.”

Both at five foot seven, we stood at the same eyeline,
Nicola far curvier than I, but each forcing a brief smile upon our lips to
comfort the other.  Our friendship, cemented years ago, meant words were
not always necessary.

Our eyes fell away and I handed her a fresh glass of wine
from a bottle I’d received along with other goodies, some questionable as to their
meaning, in a gift basket on my doorstep this morning.

Nicola held the glass up to the light and examined it. 
“Are you sure it’s safe to drink?  I mean, we don’t know who sent
it.” 

“It doesn’t look tampered with.  Besides, I drank the
bottle that came last week and I’m still standing.”

“In that case, bottom’s up!  Any more thoughts on who’s
sending them?”  She tasted her drink.  “Hmmm... bit tart but seems
fine to me.”

I scrunched my lips, flummoxed.  “No card, no note,
zilch.  Why would someone send wine, or lingerie and beauty products every
few weeks?  It’s been going on for months, sporadically.  It’s really
creepy.”

Nicola shrugged.  “You’ve been getting them ever since
your husband moved out, haven’t you?”

“Or since you moved in.  Perhaps they’re for you.”

“I still think my first guess is right.”

“Don’t be daft.”

Nicola heaved a sigh.  “Why you and Brian can’t admit
that—“

“Not this again.”

She held her palms up.  “I’m just saying.  I
mean... it’s not like you’re upset about getting a divorce from John, is
it?  Why can’t you admit that you married the wrong guy?”

Please don’t go there. 

“There are three of you in this marriage.”

“Yes.”  I leaned closer and tilted soft words into her
ear.  “My daughter Sarah, that makes three.”

“Three
adults
,” she stressed, then playfully rolled
her eyes. 

I sipped my drink to hide my awkward blush then clinked my
glass against hers.  “Cheers.” 

Nicola fished around in the basket, pulled out a tube and
read the label.  “A face pack?  So this person not only wants to get
you drunk tonight, but wants your skin to glow.  Hmmm... interesting.”

Unlike my paleness, Nicola had beautiful olive skin which
gave her a year-round sun-kissed look to envy.  “There was fake tan in it
last week,” I told her.  “Good stuff too.”

“I noticed you had a bit of colour.  But I didn’t
realise it was another gift.”

“Oh, I thought I’d mentioned it.”  I shrugged.  “I
rubbed it on while I was working in my office last Saturday, and because I
didn’t get dressed, I didn’t have any streaks like last time.“

She chuckled into her drink.  “I’m happy I had a date
that evening.  You worked in the buff?”

“Just that night.” I laughed.

“Bet that was a show.”  Nicola chuckled.  “You
look nice today.  Shame we had to cancel your birthday plans.  Bloody
burglars!  We should be heading to the restaurant now.” 

“I know.  I’m sorry.  But I’m not leaving my house
empty tonight.  Oh, that reminds me, I still need to change the lock on
the back door.  You never know.” 

“Is Brian really taking Sarah on a climbing trip at the
weekend?”

“That’s what he said.  Although it seems daft in this
weather.”

Nicola unscrewed the face pack tube.  “The seal’s
intact.  Here goes...”  She smeared lumpy green lotion all over her
face then rinsed her hands in the sink.  “This stuff’s like guacamole.
 Want some?” 

“Maybe later.  Are you hungry yet?”  As I pulled
take-out menus out of the cupboard, a thunder of sharp thuds outside the patio
windows made me jump.  “What the hell was that?”  I grabbed Nicola’s
hand.  “You don’t think...”  We glanced at each other.

“Let’s stay calm,” Nicola said.  “We’ll go take a
look.”

We separated. 

Nicola parted the white, floor-length curtains while I
dashed across the kitchen to flick the garden light on.  She pressed her
nose against the glass pane and peered out of the doors into the semi-darkness.

“See anything?” I asked, biting my lower lip.

The frown on Nicola’s face fell away.  “Relax. 
It’s not a burglar.  I’d say a chunk of your roof has gone a.w.o.l.”

Thank goodness, but...  I dashed to her side. 
“Seriously?  The roof?”

“Lucky no one was standing out there.”

“And, oh my God! Look at the snow.”  I unlocked the
patio doors.  A massive spangle of white flakes showered my face under the
darkening sky.  Cold wind walloped me.  After rigging up emergency
window locks and a fake alarm box, we’d spent the rest of the day in a private
world repainting the original floral pattern back on to worn tiles around the
fireplace, and I had no idea the weather had gotten this bad. 

“Jeez,” I said, staring down at the heap of cracked roof
slates.  “Something else to fix.”  Taking on such a large restoration
project with my husband sounded fun at the time.  We both fell in love
with the place straight away and Sarah loved it too.  The house - so large
that Nicola often joked it should have its own post code - was perfect for
running my computer repairs business from home.  Computers had always
fascinated me.  I used to spend many an hour fixing up my own and friends’
computers.  Until I realised, why not do it for real?  So I set up
shop a few years ago.

“I owe you this month’s rent,” Nicola said.  “That
should help you get the tiles fixed.  I wish I could give you a bit extra
but... it’s a tight month.”

“Very kind.  But just the rent is great.  I don’t
want you to be short.”

“Is your husband still not paying his share of the
mortgage?” 

I shook my head.  “He says I should be thankful he
isn’t taking a wage out of the business, seeing as half of it’s in his name.”

“That’s so unfair.”

“I haven’t heard from him since we argued on the phone last
week.  He said I’m selfish, in denial, and a liar.  And now that he’s
gone off radar... Well, I feel like I’ve told my secrets to the devil and am
just waiting to find out what his next move will be.”

“Some divorces can get pretty nasty.”  Nicola tugged me
back inside and locked the doors.  “You don’t wanna be out there if
another slate falls.”

“Oh, John could hurt me all right,” I explained.  “He’s
got plenty of ammunition to fire and has already threatened to use it if I
don’t sign the divorce papers by morning.”

Her mouth gaped in disgust.  “He’s given you a
deadline?”

I nodded.  “He knows I can’t afford his ridiculous
buyout figure.  But his new terms are unreasonable.”  I heaved a
sigh.  “If I don’t agree, then he wants the house to go on the market and
he’s threatened to sell his half of my business to a complete stranger.”

“Oh, heck.”

It was lose or lose.  Without the house, I would have
no business because I could not afford to pay for a separate house and rent an office,
and I seriously doubted I’d find another dual-purpose property in the area, in
my price range.  “He’s trying to push me into agreeing to his terms. 
He’s already threatened to tell my secrets.”

“Secrets?  Come on, we’ve all got skeletons.”  Nicola
tapped her index finger on her lips, and as if reading my mind she said,
“Aha!  But you’re not scared of him hurting
you
, are you? 
You’re worried about him hurting Sarah.”

I blew out a heavy breath.  “The divorce papers are in
my knicker drawer.  If I don’t sign, he’s threatened to tell Sarah the
truth about her dad.”

“Oh my God.  Are you being serious?”

I nodded.

“That’s awful.  It’s blackmail!  Why didn’t you
say something?”

“It upsets me just to think about it.” 

“You can’t ignore this, Christa!”

I emptied my brain of John, and grabbed my phone to check up
on my daughter.  Brian, the brother of Sarah’s deceased father and a
successful business consultant, answered the phone. 

“H-hi,” I blurted, staring at the white scene outside. 
“You’re not still taking Sarah climbing on Friday, are you?”

“Well, I packed the car early because I’ve got a pretty full
diary but.... no.  It’s too rough out there,” Brian replied.  “She’s
listening to her iPod in her room.  Can I call you back?  I’m trying
to get in contact with my girlfriend.”

I noted an edge to his normally smooth and calm voice. 
“Is everything okay?”

“Not really.  Claire ventured out to your place nearly
an hour ago.  She’s not come back, and she’s not answering her phone.”

My place?
  I nibbled my lip and spun around to
tell Nicola, but she’d left the room.  “Why on earth would Claire come
here?  Your girlfriend hates me.”

“She doesn’t.  Sarah’s been complaining about
forgetting her new laptop and–”

“New?” I laughed.  “As if I could splash out on a new
one.  A lady swapped her husband’s laptop for a desktop.  I said
Sarah could have it, but I didn’t get the chance to wipe the system before I
dropped her off.”

“Yeah, I remember now.  Sarah told us earlier.”

“Anyway, what’s that got to do with Claire?”

“I think she’s driving to your place to pick it up. 
Sarah told me.  She’s trying to be nice.”

I threw my head back and sighed.  No, something didn’t
ring true here.  Claire was probably using the laptop as an excuse to come
round and wipe the floor with me.  She hated the fact that Brian and I
were such close friends, and had, on occasion, poured the odd nasty comment
into my ear while Brian wasn’t listening.  Seeing as Sarah said that
Claire always treated her well, I chose not to make a big issue of it.  “I
really don’t want to see your girlfriend tonight.  Can’t Sarah use your
computer?” 

“No.  I left my laptop in the office, and the screen on
my desktop flickers, and the hard drive’s giving off a burning smell.  I
was going to ask you about it.”

“Sounds like it needs a new fan.  Bring it over
sometime, you, not Claire, and I’ll take a look.”

“Thanks.  Anyway, I’m worried, Christa.  Claire’s
not the most alert driver in the world.  Please don’t repeat that. 
Anyway, so you’ve not seen or heard from her?”

“Not a peep.”

There was a pause.  Brian’s faint cursing travelled
over the airwaves, then he came back on the line.  “I better go track her
down.  Call me if she turns up?”

“Of course.  Be careful on those roads.  And what
about Sarah?”

“I doubt I could drag her out of her pit.  She’s upset
that I cancelled the trip, and in a worse mood now because her friends are out
sledging and I said she couldn’t go ‘cos it’s getting dark.”

“That’d do it,” I said as Nicola reappeared in the
Kitchen.  I loved Sarah deeply, would give my life for her in a heartbeat,
but she’d been such a little toe-rag lately.  “She loves her
step-dad.  I think the split has upset her more than she’s letting on.”

“I think so too.  I’ll ask my sister to pop round and
watch her while I track down Claire.  She’s not on shift at the hospital
tonight.” 

I gulped as I ended the call.  Steph, his sister, I
hadn’t seen her in years.

“Still can’t find my mobile,” Nicola said, lifting magazines
in search of it.  “I was waiting for, well, hoping that, a certain someone
might call.”