WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (7 page)

M
orning broke too
early for my liking.  Whoever prowled outside the bedroom door made a
creaking sound.

“Can
I come in?” Laura whispered.

“Yes. 
I’m awake.  It’s your house.”

The
door glided across the carpet and she entered, fully dressed.  “I need to
nip out.  Do you want to stay here?”

“No. 
I’ve got things to do.  I’ll get up.”

“Okay. 
See you downstairs.” 

The
thought of what my day had in store made me shudder.  After a moment of
quietly complaining and hugging the pillow, I dragged myself into the ensuite
and took a quick shower.  I needed to hurry.  I had the world to
face, a problem to solve and I couldn’t do any of it by lulling around,
festering in self-pity. 

On
my way downstairs, I saw Laura jangling her keys and pointing towards the front
door, impatient to leave. 

“You’ll
have to wait a minute.  I need a drink.”  I walked into the kitchen,
filled a glass with water from the tap, and noticed a red rose head sticking
out from under the lip of the kitchen bin.  “What’s up with the flowers?”

Laura
walked to the bin, stuffed what appeared to be half a dozen roses deeper inside
and buried their redness under screwed up newspaper.  “Don’t know who sent
them.  But I know it wasn’t Paul.”

“A
stranger sent you red roses?”

“No
message on the card.  Just a large X for a kiss.”

I
rubbed my hands together in jest.  “Ooh!  Secret admirer?”

Laura
rolled her eyes.  “Oh please, Chelsea.  Lose the cheeky grin.  And
don’t say a word to Paul.  It’s just not appropriate when I’m about to
marry the guy.”

“My
lips are sealed.  But don’t you want to know who sent them?  I mean,
it’s lovely that someone likes you enough to arrange flowers.”

“It
doesn’t matter.  It’s too late.  I’ve made my choice.”  She
turned on her heels.

While
downing my drink, the house phone rang. 

“I’ll
get it.”  I picked up the receiver on the bench to my left.  “Hello?”

No
answer.

“Heeello? 
Who’s calling?”

“I’m
waiting,” a muffled voice said.

“Who
is this?”

The
line went dead.

“How
weird,” I muttered, staring at the little microphone holes on the receiver.

Laura
came up behind me.  “What’s weird?”

“They
said
‘I’m waiting,’
then hung up.” 

Laura
took the phone from my hand and placed it back on the cradle.  “If it’s
important they’ll phone my mobile.  Let’s go.” 

I
shrugged.  “If you say so.”  We walked down the hall, and at the
front door, I startled her with a warm embrace.  Nestling my head into the
curve of her neck, I took in her latest home-mixed scent and squeezed
hard. 

“Wow. 
What?” she giggled.  “I’m not leaving forever.  Just for an hour or
two.  My aunt wants me to keep her in the loop about the wedding.  If
I don’t go over there, she’s likely to come round here, and I’ll never get rid
of her.  She’s made a big check list.  She’s driving me round the
bend.  The worst one was when she insisted that I sort out a pre-nup.”

“Ooh. 
Tricky.”

“I
did it to stop her nagging.  Paul understood.”

“So
he should.  He’s a nice guy.”

She
smiled.  “Lucky me.  Anyway, come back later if you’ll miss me
that
much.  And, sorry for being snappy lately.  I don’t mean to
be.” 

I
nodded against her shoulder, then trudged to my car with a lump in my
throat.  Like any rational person, I wanted someone’s help.  But I
was doing Laura a big favour by cutting her loose.  Right now, being near
me could be dangerous.

The
further I drove from Laura’s, the more daylight faded.  Thick, grey clouds
rolled in.  A rainstorm was on the horizon.  Stupidly, I wondered if
my mood had caused it.  On the approach to my street I realised that if
Lee was right, another email containing a get-out-clause puzzle could arrive
any moment.  I needed to view it in large on my computer screen.  If
I logged on via my mobile, some graphics could be missed, or run slow, meaning
I’d blow my opportunity to beat any puzzle it contained.  I’d already
figured out the last email arrived late morning and wondered if the sender
would stick to a pattern.  I assumed even killers had jobs or schedules. 
I put my foot down to beat the storm.  

Once
indoors, after sweeping the house for intruders, I booted up the computer and
went into the kitchen.  While I waited for my toast to pop, I prayed that
the email sender would slip up and leave a clue as to their identity. 

A
sudden urge to phone my parents came to me, strong as thirst.  I needed to
hear my mum's comforting voice.  I settled for looking at a photo
instead.  I didn’t want to worry them.  My mum never missed a
trick.  She was bound to pick up on telltale nerves in my voice. 

I
searched the fireplace for the silver-framed picture of them in their summer
garden, but couldn’t find it.  What did I do with it?  I scanned the
other pictures, then found it switched with a photo of Laura, Emma and me taken
a couple of months ago.  I smiled, reminiscing the surprise spa day which
Laura’s fiancé Paul had organised.  I looked back to my parents’ photo,
then stared at the place it should have been.

My
toast popped up.  I spread a thick layer of lumpy jam on it and ate. 
On the last bite, I moved the few strides into my dining room and faced the
computer desk. 
Am I ready?  Alert enough? 
As soon as I
switched it on, if there was another game in the email, I’d have to solve it on
my own.  I couldn’t afford to blow my chance of stopping that damn death
clock by not being focused. 

I
took a step nearer to the desk, cutting through the invisible tension that
lingered in the room. 

“Check
my emails.  Call the police,” I told myself.  Simple.

A
burst of knocking on the front door shattered the silence.  I stopped
typing my password, then edged into the hallway. 

A
dark, wide object moved past the magazine-sized window in my front door,
causing me to flinch and press my back against the wall. 
What the hell
is that?
  The dark shape shot past the window again.  My muscles
tensed, immobilized by the threat of its size.  It wasn’t a vehicle. 
It came closer to the door than that.  I remained still, back pressed
tight to the wall, and took deep breaths. 
Is this the person who’s
threatening me?
  I needed a plan.  I grabbed a shoe from the
floor, and held the pointed stiletto in the air like a blade. 

I
moved to the door, squashed my nose against its textured window and peeked
harder.  I saw no one on my path except a few neighbours unloading their
car on the opposite side of the street. 

 
No one would attack me on the doorstep in broad daylight, surely? 
Ridiculous!  The neighbours would see. 

This
was one of the rare times I’d wanted to find either a double-glazing or
annoying gas & electric salesperson at my door, with a clipboard and cheesy
grin, claiming, as they all do, that their prices were the lowest. 

After
checking the safety chain was in place, I wrapped my fingers around the handle,
pushed it down and inched the door open. 

A
slice of a
trouser leg stepped into view through the gap of the front door.  The
stiletto remained wielded above my head.  Paul stood on the pavement, bleary-eyed
and wet, holding his navy jacket as a makeshift umbrella in a wide triangle
above him.  He peered at me through the gap. 

I
felt stupid, but that relieved I could have grabbed hold and kissed him. 
“Crikey, Paul, it’s you.”  I unhooked the chain and opened the door.

“Chelsea...
you okay?”  He eyed my shoe.  “What’s that for?”

I
chucked the stiletto behind me, which landed on the laminate floor with a
thump.  “Nothing.  Having a clear out.  Come in.  Did you
enjoy your stag party?  I see you still have both eyebrows intact.” 

“Yes. 
A top night.”  He stepped inside out of the rain and draped his jacket
over his arm.  “Well, I can’t remember much towards the end.”

I
laughed.  “Sore head?”

 “Listen.” 
Paul’s narrowing blue eyes homed in on me.  “I want a
private
word
away from Laura.”

Curiosity
piqued, I motioned for Paul to follow me through to the kitchen. 
“Sure.  About what?”  I flicked the kettle on, then grabbed two mugs
and the coffee jar from the cupboard above.

“It’s
about Mark.”

“Your
best man?” I said, digging a spoon into the jar.  “Thirsty?”

Both
his face and posture were unnerving in their stiffness. 
What’s bugging
him?

“No,
thanks,” Paul said.  “I’ll get to the point.  It may be my hangover
talking, but, you don’t think I’ve got anything to worry about, do you? 
It’s just, well, Mark seems to go all weird when I mention Laura’s name,
lately.  And he stares at her.  A lot.  And winks.  I’m
starting to think—”

“What?”
I giggled, spilling coffee granules on the worktop.  “That they’re having
an affair?”

“Well...
yes.”

My
voice rose to a squeak.  “Are you serious?”

Paul
nodded.  “Laura’s not been herself, lately.  You must have noticed,
too.  She’s been... distracted, irritated.  I can’t quite put my
finger on it.  I’m worried about her.  All I know is, the pair of
them have been acting strange for a while.  It got me thinking.”

“Trust
me.”  I thought it best not to laugh again.  “You’ve got nothing to
worry about on that score.  Yes, I agree Mark’s got a
thing
for
Laura, but it’s harmless.  As for Laura, she doesn’t even
look
at
other men.  She’s just upset about her parents not being able to see her
wedding.”

“I
know.  I wish I could wave a wand and bring them back.  It’s an awful
thing to say, but I hoped you’d think it was something like that.”  He
clamped a hand on the edge of the worktop and stared into my eyes.

“Mind
you,” he said.  “I expect you’d cover up for her.  Best friends ‘n’
all.”

Digging
my teeth into my bottom lip, I continued studying Paul.  “Why are you
asking me this if you think I’ll cover for her?”  I paused,
confused.  “Anyway, you’ve got nothing to worry about.  I swear on my
life.  If anyone else likes her, then they’ve left it too late.  She
said as much this morn...”  I stopped myself, didn’t want to mention the red
roses from her secret admirer.  Could they have been from Mark? 
“She’s marrying you.  She loves you.  So, chill out, will you?”

Paul’s
expression began to brighten.  The stress in his eyes dissolved. 
“Sorry.  It was unfair of me to put you on the spot.”

“Yes. 
It was.”

“I
had to be sure.”  A small laugh escaped him.  “It does sound
ridiculous now I think about it.  I mean, we are getting married at the
weekend.”

I
blew out a relieved breath and touched his arm.  “Exactly.  Laura
wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise that.  Though, you can’t really blame
Mark for having a crush, can you?  Laura is quite a catch.”

“She
is.  Seriously gorgeous.”  Paul gazed at the ceiling, and then his
lips widened into a smile.  “Thanks, Chelsea.  You’ve put my mind at rest. 
Sorry for bothering you.  You’re not going to tell Laura I said anything,
are you?”

“No. 
I don’t want her to worry about anything else this week.”

“Nice
one.  I’ll get going.  You take care.”

I
followed Paul to the front door.  “Go home and give Laura a big
kiss.” 

“I
intend to.”

I
waved him off to his car, wondering why Paul had risked Laura finding out that
he was suspicious by talking to me.  Poor bloke.  To risk that, he
must have been pretty distraught about the thought of Laura canoodling with
Mark.  Maybe last night’s alcohol had Mark saying things he
shouldn’t.  I wished I’d been the bar maid so I could have listened. 
I laughed then blushed, imagining myself dressed up in a naughty French maid
outfit, something fit for a stag meeting. 

Before
I could turn to go back in my house, a chirpy voice called out, “Hey!”

I
looked right and spotted Lee jogging along the pavement in the rain. 
Perfect
timing! 
The nearer he got, the more my insides felt like they were
bouncing along with him.  “Hey, stranger!  Where did you disappear to
last night?”  I grabbed the flaps of his open jacket and pulled him
through the front door.  My delight at seeing him hit me hard. 

“I
went through my brother’s belongings again.  I thought I told you?” 
He pulled away and smiled.  “Who was at the door?”

“Paul. 
Laura’s fiancé.”

Lee
pursed his lips, and then poked his head out into the street.

“Shut
the door and come inside.”  I guided Lee through to the dining room, and
just stood, overjoyed to have someone in my corner for the next dreaded
email. 

“You
can let go of my hand now, Chelsea,” he said, failing to wriggle out of his
coat using one arm.

He
draped his coat over the radiator.  “I came back late last night, but you
didn’t answer the door.”

I
threw him a towel.  “I went to Laura’s.”

He
ruffled his wet hair.  “Anyway, we’ve got our work cut out for us today,
trying to figure out this mess.”

Finally,
I pulled up my email account.  “No new messages yet.  Did you
discover anything last night?”

He
twisted his lips in disappointment.  “No diary, no notes.  I went
through all Daryl’s cupboards and even rooted in the bins.  Nothing but
standard bills, application forms for credit cards and loans.  Junk. 
I just don’t know what I’m looking for.” 

I
crossed the room toward the kitchen.  “What about photos?”

“Well,
his computer was smashed in, even the hard drive, so dead end there. 
Nothing struck me as strange on his camera.”

“What
about his girlfriend?”  I grabbed a carton of milk, then glanced at Lee
while closing the fridge door.  “Didn’t your friend ‘Phillip’ say that
Daryl had been seeing someone?”

Lee
nodded, sat on the sofa and flattened his ruffled hair.  “I never met
her.  It seems that no one did, which is strange.  Either she’s an
illegal, got two heads or she’s married.”

I
tried not to laugh.

“Anyway,
then I checked his mobile.  There weren’t many text messages.  I
guess he deleted them.”

I
stirred the coffees.  “Do you think he has this person’s number in his
phone?  How creepy would that be?”

“His
contact list reads like a business pages of plumbers, electricians...  I
presumed a lot of the phone numbers were clients, listed by profession so he’d
know who was who.”

I
carried the drinks into the dining room and lowered myself onto the sofa. 

“Thanks,
Chelsea.”  Lee took the mug from my hand, then changed seats and sat at
the computer.  “Still nothing yet,” he said, swivelling in the chair like
a child.  “Did you come up with any leads?”

“Diddly-squat. 
My friends and I—”  I paused, sipping from my ‘It seemed like a good idea
at the time,’ mug.

“Did
they have any suggestions about who you could’ve upset?”

“I
didn’t mention it last night.  Laura’s got enough on her plate. 
Besides, they saw the email the other day and said it wasn’t worth worrying
about.”

Lee
tilted his head to one side.  “Really?”  He put his mug down and
tapped a pen on the desk.

“Well,
actually, Emma asked me about it last night.  She thinks it’s a
virus.  My best friend… well, Laura didn’t seem concerned.  She
thought it rude to call me a ‘slag’ in the email, but that’s about all she said
on the subject, apart from warning me about viruses.”

Slowly
our eyes connected.  Like smoke drifting away after a fire, my cloudy mind
started to clear. 

Lee
scratched his chin.  “I thought Laura was your best friend.”

“She
is.”

“So
she must have questioned you, right?  Had an opinion as to what it’s
about.”

A
bad sensation stirred within me.  “Not really.”

“How
could she not be concerned?”

I
jerked forward.  He’d said my exact thought.

Was
Laura just uninterested, or avoiding the subject?  My head scribbled
circles.  Then I drifted back to the hen night.

Laura
said she hadn’t overheard my conversation with Lee in the bar.  Why? 
She’d been standing right next to me.  She must have overheard some of
it.  Then, I remembered her not wanting me to meet Lee last night, and
questioning me about him over the phone.  Why didn’t she want me to be
with Lee?  Her strange behaviour gnawed away inside me.  My stomach
twisted, feeling like a tight knot had formed in its centre. 

“She
probably is a
little
worried for you, right?”

I
thought about how Paul had described Laura earlier.  “No.  More
like... irritated.”  I felt my scalp tingle.  “And she has been
snappy and distant lately.”

“Hey,
look out.”  Suddenly, Lee dashed across the room.  He grabbed the mug
from my hand just as it tilted.  Coffee spilled over the rim and splashed
onto the laminate floor. 

I
stood.  Lost in thought, I left Lee to wipe the spillage while I paced the
room numerous times.  “Why would she be irritated?”  Every step
pressed down faster, fiercer, until my head was filled to the brim with
accusations.  Paul was right.  Laura’s recent behaviour was so out of
character; the ever-rising wall between us, her secrecy, the outburst about the
parcel she collected in town, wedding nerves distracting me from... lies? 

I
whirled around, faced the opposing wall and perched my hands on my hips.

“Chelsea?”

I
ignored Lee.

Maybe
my best friend wasn’t actually as sweet as her voice suggested.  Out of
everyone I knew, Laura had the biggest reason of all to hate me.