WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers
Read WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers Online
Authors: H Elliston
WILL TIME WAIT
BOXED SET
of 3 ticking clock thrillers
By H.C.Elliston
TICK TOCK RUN (murder mystery/romantic suspense)
THINK FAST DIE LAST (action & adventure)
SHIVER SWEET (high stakes, sexy thriller)
TICK TOCK RUN
By H.C.Elliston
Copyright © 2011 by H.C.Elliston
All rights reserved, including the right to
reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form or by any means whatsoever
without prior written permission from the author.
The moral right of H.C.Elliston to be identified as
the author of this work of fiction has been asserted.
All characters and events in this publication, other
than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to
actual events or real persons, either living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
For my parents who’ve always stood by me, my sister
for being a soundboard, my fiancé for putting up with me while I wrote this, my
critique buddies for their help, encouragement, and for keeping me going when I
was ready to give up, and for my two fabulous dogs... I heart you!
To readers, a huge thanks for your support! I
hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it.
Table
of Contents
Contents
I
didn’t want
anything to spoil Laura’s special night, which was exactly why I’d decided not
to mention what had happened to me earlier today. Not yet. “She’ll
go mad, Emma. You know Laura doesn’t like being the centre of
attention. Cancel the stripper.”
“You
worry too much.” Emma pulled a bottle of Champagne out of the ice bucket
in the limousine. “Top up, anyone?”
I
held my glass out. “You’d better fill Laura’s, too,” I muttered, dreading
what the night had in store for her. I settled back into my seat and
drank from Champagne flutes with my friends. Electric blue dots rained
down on us from the mirrored ceiling. The confetti lightshow created a
magical atmosphere for Laura’s hen evening. Everyone seemed so happy,
chatting and singing along to Usher as we travelled. The air smelled
impossibly sweet and floral.
“You
think these badges’ll work?” Claire asked, pinning one on her dress.
“It’s
worth a shot,” Emma replied. “I figured posing as reporters doing a piece
on the local night life might win us a few free drinks. If nothing else,
it’s a twist on the usual ‘L’ plates and wedding veil.”
I
smiled at the bride-to-be, decided to worry about the stripper later. “That
red dress looks awesome on you, Laura. You’re turning heads tonight.”
“Thanks,
although it doesn’t really go with this stupid Dictaphone for a necklace.
Emma gave it to me. I prefer it to having condoms stuck in my
hair.”
The
limousine stopped.
A
blinding light flashed my way from Jayne’s long-lense reporter-style
camera. “Gotcha!” she said, before the chauffeur cracked open the
limousine door. “This camera works fine, Laura. You said it was
broken.”
“I
thought it was.”
One
by one we stepped outside, and a rainbow of seven glitzy dresses lined the
path. We smoothed our outfits over our hips then linked arms.
Emma
led us inside the second bar of the evening. “Listen up, everyone.
We’ve got one hour in here, and then pile back to the limo. This place is
Laura’s choice. God knows why. It’s more my style.”
Multicoloured
spotlights shone down on us in the bar. Hot air swept over my face.
The place was crammed full. Forty, fifty punters, probably even
more. Many of them were squashed shoulder to shoulder in a place not even
double the ground floor of my small house. Countless eyes gazed at us
while our heels clicked a drum-roll entry across the tiled floor.
At
the far end of the room, light glinted on a chrome dance pole positioned on a
stage against a black backdrop. Jayne waved at some guys in the corner to
our left while we waited to be served. Emma winked, passed me two drinks,
then weaved her way towards the pole followed by Claire, Megan, Jayne and Jess.
Laura lingered near the bar. I stayed with her.
“Just
think.” I leaned into Laura. “One week today and you’ll be
married. I’m so glad you’ve got... you know... on track again.”
Laura
seemed to be so much happier lately, or at least pretended to be. She gave
me a playful nudge with her elbow. “It’s time you moved on, too,
Chelsea. Plenty of guys to choose from in here.”
“Soon,”
I muttered half-heartedly. The mere thought of anything to do with dating
still sent a shiver of dread wriggling down my spine. I hoped this
feeling would disappear come her wedding at the weekend. I turned my
attention to our friends who were lining up for the dance pole. I didn’t
dare approach the damn thing in case someone thought I too was queuing up for
it. “What made you want to come
here
on your hen evening?” I
scanned the bar, taking in its sleaziness.
“I
used to know someone who liked it here.”
I
faced Laura. “Who?”
She
lifted her voice against the loudening music. “No one you know. I
just felt the need to check the place out. But, I’m certainly not making
a fool out of myself by flashing my knickers on that... pole contraption.
Apparently, anyone’s allowed to have a go.”
Laughter
rippled across the bar when Claire took to the dance pole. Laura giggled,
and so did I. The word graceful did not spring to mind when we watched
her awkwardly spinning around the pole, not unlike a baby chick attempting
first flight. At least she received a few claps for her bravery.
From
the left of the staged area, Jayne raised the camera above the crowd and
pointed it our way. I pressed my cheek against Laura’s and smiled as it
flashed. Then, Jayne waved us over to the pole. While mouthing to
her, ‘not in a million,’ a tall man bashed into me, sending me tumbling onto
someone behind.
“Hey!
Watch what you’re doing,” I cried out. I aimed a heated stare at the
tall, animated man while unknown hands pressed into my lower back and pushed me
upright. Drink fizzed over the rim of my beer bottle and spilled onto my
dress. “Oh, that’s just great!”
Busy
wolf-whistling, the tall man in front was clearly not going to apologise for
knocking me off my feet. He seemed too preoccupied ogling Emma, whose
dress inched higher up her tanned thighs with every spin around the pole.
I
was about to shout at him when Laura tugged me back a few steps. “Let’s
keep our distance. I think he’s drunk, or on something. Please
ignore him, Chelsea. I don’t want any trouble tonight.” She
produced a wad of tissues from her bag. “Here. Use these.
You’re soaked.”
“Soaked?
I look like I’ve peed myself.” I dabbed my dress and wiped my wet thighs,
then whirled around to face the guy who’d pushed me back onto my feet. He
was of similar age to us, drinking with six other guys in the corner.
They were the group that Jayne had waved to. They all wore dark clothes,
and not one smile existed between them.
“Thanks
for catching me. Sorry for banging into you.” I looked away and
sipped what remained of my drink.
“Want
another beer?” Laura asked. “How about a shot?”
I
grinned. “Tequila slammers? Give it a few minutes. The bar’s
three deep.”
Snippets
of a conversation drifted across from the group of men behind me while we
waited for the queue at the bar to go down. “Message... Your number’s
up... tick... have you seen this?”
The
words pulled at my memory.
Laura
tapped my arm. “Seen something you like?”
I
faced her. “What?”
“A
guy. Who’s caught your eye?”
“No
one. I was listening, not eyeing them up.”
“It’s
not a crime to fancy someone. Which one do you like?”
“It’s
not a guy, all right?”
“What
then?”
I
paused, considering keeping schtum. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but
I opened a really weird email before the limousine picked me up tonight.”
“Weird?”
A
phrase from a random email struck me as an odd topic for a group of men in a
bar bursting with enough scantily-clad women to fuel conversation for the whole
night. Even so, I tilted my head their way to listen again.
The
words ‘It sounds like they’re talking about a similar...’ were ready to come
out of my mouth to Laura, when I heard the same guy say, “Yeah.
Strange. So, he sent
that
to your mobile?”
I
whispered into Laura’s ear. “False alarm. They’re talking about
text messages.”
Laura
tucked a tendril of glossy, black hair behind her ear. Looking
disinterested, she swigged her drink and stared around the bar.
“It
was kind of creepy, though.”
She
met my gaze again. “What was? Listening to those guys?”
“No,
silly. The email. When I opened it, the background flashed black at
first, but then, a golden countdown timer appeared on the screen.”
Laura
arched an eyebrow. “A timer?”
I
nodded. “It started ticking through the speakers, and the words beneath
it were, ‘Tick, tock, your number’s up, people have to pay for what they’ve—’”
Laura
flinched, banging the spout of her bottle on her teeth. “Why didn’t you
tell me about this before?”
“I
didn’t want to worry you.”
“I
told you last week
never
to open your junk mail. They might contain
viruses, and I know you don’t back up your computer files. I’m only
thinking of you.”
I
picked at the label on my bottle. “I clicked on it by accident.
Anyway, this was quite abusive, personal even. It contained my full name
and even called me a slag.”
“Slag!
You’re kidding me?”
I
shook my head.
“It’ll
be a virus, Chelsea. Make sure you delete it straight away.”
I
nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. I guess it’s on my mind because my
car’s been keyed. There’s a long scratch on the passenger side.”
“Really?
When did this happen?”
“Earlier
today.”
“Don’t
worry, I know someone who can fix it, cheap.” Laura glanced over my
shoulder at the group of men. Something flashed in her eyes which I
couldn’t place. “It’s noisy in here. You misheard. They won’t
be talking about the same thing. Follow me. Let’s get those shots
and try these reporter badges out for size.”
I
scanned the serving area. The queue had thinned, so we headed over.
“Two bottles of beer and two tequila slammers, please,” I shouted, pouting and
nudging my way to the front, ensuring my badge clipped above my left breast was
in full view. The barman winked at me, then lined up our drinks. I
paid him, poured a sprinkling of salt onto the back of Laura’s hand, and did
the same on mine as the guy next to me complained that he’d been queuing longer
than I had.
“One,
two, three,” Laura said. We licked the salt, knocked back the shots, then
sucked on wedges of lime. My whole body quivered at the sharpness in my
mouth.
Laura
screwed her face up and stuck her tongue out.
We
stepped away from the serving area, but soon got railroaded back near the
entrance door where we were standing earlier by a gang of men who were
leaving. We lingered, glad of the blast of fresh air when they pushed the
door open.
Laura
removed the Dictaphone that was hanging from a cord around her neck. She
placed it over my head. “Here, you wear it. It’s annoying me.”
“Cheers,”
I muttered. “This was a stupid idea of Emma’s. Where are all the
free drinks she said we’d get?”
Laura
laughed. “We got served fast, so it did that at least. Or maybe the
barman fancies you.”
I
rolled my eyes and thought,
don’t go there.’
“A
toast to Daryl.” A man behind me said during a song change. I
turned and watched him lift his beer glass skyward. “You’ll be sorely
missed, mate.”
I
traded a curious look with the guy I’d crashed into earlier. He was also
raising his glass. His mousy fringe of hair fell low enough to tickle his
eyelashes, and he had a tired-looking face - although not from age, something
else.
I
felt obliged to speak, having been caught staring. “Is this a leaving
do?”
His
Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat. “Actually, my brother died.”
Way
to put my foot in my mouth. “Sorry to hear that. It’s just that
this is a party venue, so, I didn’t expect...”
He
wrinkled his nose and shrugged. “My brother liked this place.
That’s why we’re in here. He wouldn’t have wanted us to mope.”
I
smiled in sympathy while wishing I could suck my words back in, then turned to
see who was sliding down the dance pole. Megan stepped up next.
Jeered on by the crowd, she leapt up high and grabbed the silver pole with one
hand. I waited to hear a thump, hoping she’d have a soft landing.
Beer and ten-foot dance poles don’t mix.
“I
heard he went crazy,” a man blurted out from the troubled-looking group behind
me. “Trashed his flat. Bashed the computer. It looked like
he’d been burgled.”
Another
man from the group said, “Closed casket.”
Goose
bumps popped up on my skin.
“His
death was an accident, wasn’t it?”
“That
theory doesn’t wash with me,” the brother rasped. “I hoped you guys could
help me understand. Perhaps I’ll do some more digging around, when I get my
head together. I intend to find out why he sent me this.” They
dropped into a sombre silence.
I
wrenched my attention away and focused on Laura. I hoped she hadn’t
listened. Death didn’t sit well with her, not since her parents died so
tragically at the end of last year. I hooked her arm. “Come on,
let’s join the others.”
Laura
stopped dead and yanked me back. “No way. I’m not going anywhere
near that pole.”
I
stood on someone’s foot with my heel, heard an ‘ouch,’ then felt something hard
bang onto my toes. The end of my ponytail poked my eye as I looked
down. I spotted a mobile phone at my feet. After rubbing the throb
out of my toes, I picked the phone up. There was a text message lit up on
the screen. It didn’t take more than a second to recognise the words on
the first line. I released a tense breath.