WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (13 page)

I
crossed my legs away from him.  “I... I don’t want this.” 

“Me
neither.  What were we thinking?” 

I
folded my arms and stared over my shoulder into the starry night beyond the
window.  “I’m sorry.  I should know better.”

“No. 
I’m sorry,” he said firmly.  “I’m the one who’s acting like a moron. 
We need to stay focused.  No room for distractions.”

“Exactly. 
It was a mistake.”

“Won’t
happen again.”

“Too
right.”  Reasons why I’d allowed myself to get this close to a man again,
raced around my head.  I closed my eyes, wanting to forget.  After
nearly half a year, I’d allowed myself to break my ‘no men’ rule.

W
e drove back to
Lee’s house in silence.  Once indoors, he showed me his room, and he slept
in the spare.

It
felt like no time at all had passed when a hand rocked me awake.  I was
pleased to find Laura perched on the edge of the mattress, smiling in the glow
of sunshine.

“Good
morning, sleepyhead.”  She stroked my cheek.  “I phoned earlier and
Lee answered.  Come and spend the day with us.  It’s all
arranged.  Paul’s here, too.  He insisted on coming with me.  He
wants to know that you’re all right.  It’s almost lunchtime, you know?”

Painfully
aware of what today had in store later on, I pulled the duvet over my
head.  If I refused to accept the day, maybe it would pass me by like a
pebble skipping water.  Of course, I knew, it wouldn’t.

“Erm…
okay,” I replied, peeking over the covers.  “But only for the afternoon.”

The
sun pouring into the room glistened on Laura’s ink black hair.  The colour
almost transformed to blue when she stood and walked in front of the
window.  I stroked my own hair, felt a few tangles, and realised it
probably resembled a bird’s nest. 

“No. 
I insist that you sleep at my house tonight,” she said, nosing around the
chocolate-themed bedroom.  “That is, if you can drag yourself away from
this cosy love nest.”

I
sprung forward in bed.  “What love nest?”

She
shook her head side to side in judgment.  “Well, I’m assuming this is
his
bedroom.”

“Oh,
no!  He’s nice ‘n’ all, but we didn’t
share
the bed.”  Laura’s
unspoken assumptions warmed my cheeks.  “Anyway, so what if we did? 
And what’s all this insisting nonsense?”  I was about to explain why I was
in Lee’s bed in my underwear, but Laura looked like she had something else to
say.

“Has
Lee said anything to you?” she asked, running her fingertips along the
windowsill.

“About
what?”

She
faced me.  “I wondered if you’d come up with any new suspects.” 

I
shook my head.  “The cops are looking into a guy.”

“Really? 
Who?”

“He’s
dead.  So we could be dealing with a hacker.”

Lee
shouted from downstairs, “Are you up yet?”

Laura
smiled.  “I’ll let you get dressed.”  She went downstairs. 

I
had a brief wash, put Lee’s t-shirt on over my jeans, gave up trying to flatten
my hair and then joined them in the lounge. 

“Hey,
everyone.  I’m ready to go.”

While
finishing a conversation with Paul, Lee flashed me a warm smile, causing a
hitch in my thoughts.  I was more than pleased that the awkwardness
between us had fizzled out during the night.  “Here.”  Lee handed me
my house key.  “An officer dropped it off this morning.  He didn’t
have much to say so I decided not to wake you.”

“Maybe
they’ve not processed their findings yet.”  I looked at Paul and
Laura.  “Know anyone who wears red lipstick?”

They
shook their heads.

For
a few moments, the four of us shared silence, just politely smiling while
standing in Lee’s lounge.  To outsiders, we probably appeared normal, but a
definite undercurrent of gloom and paranoia flowed around the room. 

All
eyes turned on me.

“Why
are you all looking at me like that?”

Laura
stifled a laugh, breaking the tension.  “Did you steal your hair from a
scarecrow?” 

I
ran a hand through my tangles.  “That bad, eh?”

“Don’t
worry.  You can shower at my place and borrow some erm... female clothes.”

Lee
pointed at his open laptop on the sofa.  “Check your email before you go?”

“Do
you think I should?  I mean, the police are...”  I sat down, brought
my account up and then tapped in the password.  My stomach clenched tight
like a fist as I clicked on the latest email headed
‘urgent’
. 
“There’s no puzzle in this one.”  Relieved, I scrolled, bringing the timer
into full view.  “I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

The
numbers ticked away like any other countdown timer, but today, it felt more
like waiting for a bomb to explode rather than the countdown to New Year. 
Less than half a day left.  I scowled at the rolling numbers for a long
moment, willing the time to stop. 

“I
guess this is my last message.”  I tried to read the words above the timer
in a casual voice, as though they didn’t unnerve me. 
“Last
chance.  Your number’s up!”    
I glanced at
everyone to gage their response. 

Lee
shook his head.  His lips were pressed tight.  Paul and Laura traded
a glance and shrugged.

Below
the timer on the screen, I saw the image of a ring.  “Is this code or
something?  Someone’s going to phone me?”

“It’s
a silver circle,” Lee said.  “Click on it.”

I
double clicked, but nothing happened.  I scrolled down to the bottom of
the screen and saw two photos pasted into the email.  “Oh, my God! 
Is that your brother?”

Lee
brought his face closer.  “Yes, but what’s that?”  He stared
harder.  “Some type of certificate?”

“Yes,”
I said.  “Framed on a wall.”

Lee
drew a deep breath.  “I think it’s a photo of Daryl’s licence to
practice.  It’s hanging on the wall in his office.  Why would that
be—”

Laura
stalked across to us.  “Log off.”  She sounded like she’d swallowed
something dry.  “It’s nonsense.  If you let the messages get to you,
you’re playing right into this sicko’s hands.” 

“Smash
the damn computer if it bothers you,” Paul said, checking his watch. 

Lee
gave Paul an unimpressed glare then looked back at the screen.  “Daryl’s
standing near his local shops in that photo, and to take a picture of his
certificate this person has to have been in his office at some point. 
Someone must have been spying on him.”  He set his hand on my
shoulder.  “How the hell is my brother linked to you, Chelsea?”

Searching
the ceiling for an answer, I said, “I don’t have a clue.”  I realised that
smashing the computer was what Daryl must have done, but settled for snapping
the lid shut.  I didn’t pass any further comment on the email.  Discussions
hadn’t changed things so far, and knowing Daryl was involved wasn’t anything
new.   I just hoped that receiving this email would aid the police.

“Shall
we make a move?”  Paul slid his arms around Laura’s waist, then kissed her
neck below her ear. 

She
leaned her head against his, and then they walked hand in hand to the front
door.

“See
you later,” Lee said, with a cunning smile.  “I’ve got a few things to
organise, then I’ll come and get you.” 

I
moved towards the door, then stopped and looked over my shoulder.  “What
things?”

“Later.”

“Can’t
I have a hint?”

He
shook his head, laughed, and pretended to kick me out of his house.  “Go
on.  Get lost and don’t be nosey.”

I
wondered if he half-enjoyed keeping me in suspense.  Hadn’t I had enough of
that to last me a life time already?

As
I climbed into the back of Laura’s BMW convertible, I couldn’t imagine being in
a car any more conspicuous.  It stood out like a diamond smile among
frowns.  A real head-turner.  After visiting the florist and wedding
reception venue, the afternoon disappeared quickly. 

“We’ll
head to my place now, Chelsea.”  Laura twisted round in the front seat to
look at me.  “The lady should be arriving soon to practice our make-up for
the wedding.  Is that okay?”

I
nodded.  If I was going to die tonight, I may as well look my best.

Emma
was already waiting in her car on Laura’s drive when we rolled up.  Laura
chatted to us both over coffee in the kitchen, showcasing her bouquet of
flowers, which Paul had brought home after his stag do. 

I
went upstairs and took a much-needed shower before the make-up lady
arrived. 

Wrapped
in a towel, I entered Laura’s bedroom and opened the wardrobe to borrow some
clothes.  A boutique of coloured fabric erupted in front of me, making it
hard to choose. 

The
doorbell rang downstairs. 

I
assumed the make-up artist had arrived.  I ran my hand along the hangers
playing Russian roulette to speed up my selection.  I didn’t want the
make-up artist to have to wait for me.  I saw a sharp pair of skinny jeans
and squeezed into them – although, it would have helped if I’d used some
Vaseline.  After pulling a white fitted t-shirt over my head, I noticed a
large silver box on the shelf below my waist – her wedding veil.

Unable
to resist a quick peek, I made sure no one was coming upstairs then slid the
box onto the carpet, steeling myself for the expected bang or thud to announce
my snooping.  With the t-shirt circling my neck like a scarf, I looked
inside the box.  Crystals were dotted haphazardly over the veil like drops
of frozen water. 
Laura will kill me
.  I’d seen her mother’s
wedding dress, but the veil was off limits, even to me.  I replaced the
lid at double speed, foolishly hoping this meant I hadn’t snooped. 

Stuffed
at the back of the same shelf, a pink carrier bag with a stiletto logo caught
my eye.  Her wedding shoes.  The same irresistible urge to snoop
returned with force.  Before I knew it, my hands clamped onto the bag and
dragged it onto the carpet. 

“Get
a move on, Chelsea,” Laura shouted from downstairs.

“Just
a minute,” I yelled.  I almost put the bag back, but the weight of it
stopped me.  I stared, wondering why a pair of dainty shoes would equal
the weight of a bag or two of sugar.  Did she intend on walking down the
aisle in steel-capped boots?  Driven by curiosity, I placed my hand on the
shoebox lid inside the bag.  Squinting – and as if expecting spiders to
crawl out – I lifted it. 

“Christ!
What’s this doing here?” I muttered.  My hand crumpled the cardboard
lid.  The last thing I’d expected was to find a large stash of bank
notes.  So many that they spilled over the rim. 

I
slipped my arms through the sleeves of my t-shirt, then grabbed a fistful of
notes and started counting.  Not even denting the pile when I reached a
thousand pounds, I began pulling the money out in wads to speed up the
count.  I’d never had this much paper money in my hands before.  It
was a hell of a lot.  I spotted another bag at the back of the wardrobe
which was heavy with enough pound coins to almost fill a bucket. 

The
guilt of peeking at Laura’s wedding veil fell weak and pale in comparison to
discovering her money stash.  Pins and needles prickled my feet, so I
slumped my bottom on the floor and stretched my legs in a V around the
money. 

Why
does Laura have so much in cash?  To pay for the wedding?  Hiding it
from the taxman? 

I
laid the notes in a row across the bedroom carpet.  By now, the growing
line reached the back of the bedroom door.  A floorboard creaked on the
landing.  I tried to stretch and wedge the door shut with my foot. 
“Don’t come in.  I’m naked.”

Too
late. 

The
door swung open, fanning the bank notes across the carpet. 

Startled,
I looked up.

“What
the hell are you doing, Chelsea?”  Flushed red and glaring, Laura gave me
a look hot enough to combust.

“I…”

She
stomped into the bedroom and slammed the door with such force it made me
jump.  She kicked a wad of cash, sending it flying in my direction. 
“Naked my ass!” she snarled.  “What the hell are you doing?  How dare
you!”

I figured
an apology wouldn’t cut it, but had to try.  “I’m sorry.  Take a
breath, will you?  It’s not how it looks.  I found the shoe bag and
thought—”

“Thought
what?  That you’d make some sort of sculpture out of my money on the
carpet?  Get out.  Just get out of my room, Chelsea.  I can’t
believe you’d snoop like this.”

“But,
Laura.  I’m really sorry.  You said I could borrow some clothes and
then I saw the bag and…”

She
kicked another pile of notes across the room.  “I said you could invade my
wardrobe, not my privacy!”

I
stared at the money on the floor.  It covered the carpet looking like I’d
chucked large pieces of confetti up in the air and let it rain down on me in
celebration.  “I was concerned.  This is a lot of cash, Laura.  I
thought maybe it was to pay for the wedding, then I got worried you were hiding
income from the tax man.”

“Wonderful!”
she said, her nasty voice slicing through me.  “It’s not enough to snoop,
now you’re accusing me of tax evasion.  Get out of my sight, Chelsea.”

Heart
thundering, I stood up.  “Fine.  But I wasn’t planning on stealing it
or anything.  You know I’d never do that.”

Laura
dropped to her knees and began scooping up the notes.  “It’s just rent
money,” she muttered.  “Some of my tenants pay cash.  I’ve not had
time to bank it.”