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

“I
agree.”  His solemn face opened into a surprising, attractive smile. 
It suited him. 

I breathed
deeply in relief, not unlike tasting fresh air for the first time.  “At
least we’re both being honest now.”

“I
know.  This has been a disaster.  No reflection on you.”

 “Oh,
don’t worry,” I said, relaxing into my chair.  “I’m relieved.  I
haven’t been on a proper...
date
in ages.”

“That
explains your frown when you walked in.”

“That
obvious?”  I laughed.  “I’m glad we’re on the same page now.  I
didn’t much fancy sitting here feeling awkward.  I’ve had more fun at
funerals.”

To
my surprise, his smile vanished.  His chest puffed so broad that I thought
a couple of his shirt buttons would pop off and strike me in the face.

I
raised my glass to my lips.  “Sorry.  Did I say something to upset
you?” 

A
maddening few seconds of silence ensued.

“It’s
not your fault.”  He fiddled with the cardboard drink coaster again. 
Tore a strip off.  “The thing is, I was at a funeral last week.”

I
spat my drink back into the glass.

“A
close friend of mine died, which is why I’m not in the mood for a date. 
My mates pushed me into this.  I only came here to stop them pestering
me.”

“Me
and my big mouth.” 
Ditto,
I thought, while wishing I could shrink
into my seat.  “I’m so sorry.”  Watching a muscle twitch in his jaw
had me picking at my nails.  I bit back the words,
‘Can this get any
worse?’ 
“I didn’t mean to make a joke.  It just came out. 
If I’d known—”

“Don’t
worry.  How could you have known?”  His brief smile portrayed the
picture of forgiveness, but his stiff posture contradicted it.

I
had one shorter fingernail now.

It
certainly was a date to forget, and I couldn’t help thinking that someone,
somewhere, really did have it in for me this weekend. 

“It
was my fault for saying something thoughtless,” I said. 

“He
was one of my best mates.  Kind of knocked the wind out of me.” 

I
made a gentle hum of support.  I swirled the wine and soda in my glass
which bordered on empty, then slid it away.  “What happened to him? 
Sorry.  I’m being nosey, aren’t I?”

Phillip
stared straight at me.  “It’s okay.  He fell and broke his
neck.” 

“Oh,”
I said, lost for further words.  Once again, I searched my brain for a
polite lie to excuse myself from the date.  I didn’t know how to
respond.  The awkwardness we’d managed to get rid of had returned.

While
I fished inside my bag to locate my purse, Phillip leaned across our table and
lowered his voice. “Well, they say it was an accident, say he slipped off the
edge of a hill.  But, his brother’s not so sure.”

Hearing
his spooky voice, a shiver of déjà vu wriggled through me.  I dropped my
bag.  It seemed, suddenly, I’d been reminded of the guy I spoke to
yesterday.  I focused on Phillip’s serious face.  “My friend said you
were at the pole-dancing bar in town last night.  Is that true?” 

“Yeah,”
he answered.  “That’s when they arranged this date.”

I
shuffled in my seat.  My bag remained open, the contents spilled across
the floor.  “I think I may have spoken to your friend’s brother.”

“Lee? 
Yeah.  He was there.  Great bloke.” 

Our
table atmosphere was now highly charged, although not in a pleasant way. 
I didn’t want to cause him pain by prying, yet found it increasingly hard not
to speak my mind.  My curiosity won out.  “
My number’s up!”
I
blurted, loud enough to cause the people on the neighbouring table to stare.
 
“
That’s what Lee told me.” 

Phillip
shrugged.  “Strange, huh?  Those were Daryl’s last words.  The
last time anyone heard from him.  He was already dead when I found him.”

I
gulped.  “Yikes!”

“Exactly. 
I can’t get the image out of my head.”

“How
terrible.”

“Sure
was.”

I
twirled my ponytail.  “Why do you think Daryl sent that text to his
brother?”

“The
whole thing’s a mystery.  But his number’s definitely up now, isn’t it?”

I
shuddered at his cold-hearted comment.  “Did Daryl normally call his brother
a slag?”

Phillip
shook his head.  “‘Ladies’ man’ is more his style.”

I
thought about what I’d overheard last night.  “Didn’t he smash his
computer?” 

“More
like took a sledge hammer to it,” he said.  “His flat was a state. 
Trashed.  Looked like he’d been burgled.  Although, there were no
signs of a break-in.”

“Except
for the trashed house.”

“Daryl
wasn’t himself for weeks before.”  The drop in Phillip’s voice, now soft
and kind of cautious, made me lean across the table.  “I assumed he’d
broken up with his mystery girlfriend, but he didn’t talk about her.  She
didn’t even attend the funeral.  Lee’s desperate to find out who she
is.” 

I
clenched my teeth, trying to hide my unease from him. 

 “I
found Daryl’s body one lunch time while walking my dog.”  He fiddled with
his glass.  “Couldn’t believe it.  Still can’t.”

“Jesus!” 
I yelped.  His pain was etched on every facial feature.  He didn’t
need me bombarding him with questions, but I had to know more.  “Just one
more thing.”  I gripped the edge of the table.  “This is a strange
question, but, do you know if Daryl got that ‘number’s up’ phrase from an
email?”  I raised an eyebrow, prompting a response. 

Phillip
looked up and his stare bore into me.  “Why are you so interested in
Daryl?”

“I’m
trying to work out if I’m linked to him.  I received that same phrase in
an email yesterday.”

“Really?”

“Yes. 
Really.  Have you heard that phrase before?  I mean, before
Daryl.  Any of your friends, or work colleagues ever mentioned getting a
message like that in an email, or a text?”

He
shook his head.

“I’m
sure it’s just a random message or a mix-up.  That guy Lee, he took the
phone from me before I finished reading the text.”

Phillip
placed his palm on the table and looked into my eyes.  “All I know is, it
was a strange text for Daryl to send to his brother.  And now that he’s
dead, I guess Lee will never know what he meant by it, and by that ‘people have
to pay for... or whatever it was... line.”

“You’re
shittin’ me?”  Hearing this phrase was also in the text raised my alert
level sky high.

“Excuse
me?”

“People
have to pay for what they’ve done?”

“Something
like that.”  Phillip took a deep breath and rounded his shoulders
forward.  He looked worn out, mentally.  The poor guy.  Finding
a friend’s dead body wouldn’t be an easy thing for anyone to deal with.

I
realised it was cruel to fire more questions at a grieving man I’d only just
met.  Besides, it sounded like he didn’t know anything useful about my
email, its origin, or the story behind the text.  If he did know more, his
gloomy face didn’t reveal any sign.

Even
if I had nothing to fear, the mystery intrigued me.  I didn’t know anyone
named Daryl, so why had I stumbled upon his name and that damn phrase two
nights in a row?  It felt creepy.  I knew what I had to do
next.  “I’m sorry about your friend,” I said.  “But would you do me a
favour?”

“Depends
what it is.”

“Would
you pass my number to his brother, please.”  I scribbled my name, number,
‘
call me,’
and ‘have you checked your brother’s emails?’ on a serviette
before he had the chance to say no. 

He
pinched the paper between his fingers as if accepting a written
rejection.  He lingered a moment, then frowned.  “You want your date
to set you up on another date?  Is this the way things are done these
days?” 

“I
wouldn’t know.  But this is important,” I said, staring long enough for
him to realise I was serious.  “I only want to talk to him.  Not date
him.”

“All
right.” 

His
voice sounded depressed.  The dullness of his eyes instilled me with
sadness.  I felt like I, and I alone, had sullied the evening.

I
placed a stack of coins on the table to cover my drink, and gave him a
sympathetic embrace.  After stuffing my belongings back into my bag, I left
the bar.  Blinking a few times on the path, I shook my internal compass,
then found a taxi to take me home.

On
entering my house, my mind was racing.  A suspicious loss of life, death’s
door words in my inbox, the faceless girlfriend and a possible burglary. 
What had I stumbled upon? 

After
wondering why Laura had left a lamp on when I’d clearly asked her not to, I
engaged the safety chain and locked the front door.  In light of what I’d
learned this weekend, it felt similar to sealing my escape hatch. 

I
hated the idea of any problem, however big or small, clouding Laura’s wedding
week.  I couldn’t explain what didn’t feel right, but, it was like I’d
been signed up for something.  In secret. 

It
wasn’t the actual email, the text, or even the phrases within them that worried
me. 

No. 

My
concern after this weekend’s unsettling news was, what happened to the people
who received them?

L
aura’s dress
fitting!  I’d slept in. 

I
ran into the bathroom to shower, sent a text to Laura, then drove like Lewis
Hamilton to her house. 

“I’m
so sorry,” I whined, dashing into her hallway.  “I slept in.” 

The
seamstress passed me with a huge zip bag draped across her arms.  Laura’s
wedding dress. 

“You’re
forgiven.”  Laura backed up her words with a smile.  “Thanks for
trying to get here.  You’re more than a best friend.  You’re like the
sister I don’t have.” 

“Ahr. 
Same here.”  I hugged her.

“I’m
so pleased I’ll be wearing my mum’s wedding dress.  Kind of feels as though
she’ll be there on the day, you know?”

Being
an only child, Laura had inherited a fortune when her parents died last year;
money, property, the works.  Her dad was into real estate and rented out
several houses, which Laura was now in charge of.  Laura didn’t blame me
for her parents’ death.  Nevertheless, my being in the right place at the
wrong time that day, left me riddled with guilt.  I had made it my duty to
be supportive at every stage of her wedding to fill a small bit of the void I’d
played a part in creating.  I’d failed miserably today, and assumed my
guilt showed in my expression. 

“Is
your dress ready?”

She
motioned for me to follow her into the kitchen.  “More or less fits me
like a glove.  Just like Paul does.” 

“Oh,
Laura.  Shut the hell up.  That’s too soppy on an empty
stomach.  Is Paul at work?” 

She
nodded.  “Then he’s going to the gym when he finishes.  I’ll hardly
see him today.  It’s his stag do tonight.”

“Why
didn’t he have it on Saturday?”

“Some
of the guys couldn’t make it.”

I
sat at the granite island in her kitchen.  I ate a bagel, and thought
about how much I wanted Laura to embark on a new, positive life with
Paul.  She needed this marriage, needed something wonderful to mark the
start of a fresh era.  I did, too.  More than she’d ever know. 

Laura
appeared wide-awake.  I, on the other hand, felt stuck in a different time
zone.

“How
was your
date
?  Sorry, I’ll rephrase, your
night out
?” 
She shot me a sly grin.  “I meant to text you, but we went to bed
early.” 

“Well,
we won’t be joining you down the aisle.  To say the least, the
date
was awkward.  Guess what?  He knew that guy who died.”  I
expected a reaction, but saw little more than concentration in her eyes while
she started wiping the worktop.  “I asked Phillip some questions, but he
wasn’t very helpful.  Anyway, he’s passing my number to Lee, Daryl’s
brother.”

Laura
stopped cleaning, narrowed her eyes at me.  “You’re kidding?  The
poor guy.  Let him grieve in peace.”

I
nodded.  “I will. 
After
I find out if he knows who sent me
that email.”  I lifted magazines and she wiped underneath.  “I didn’t
even know Daryl, but everything I do leads back to him.  It’s becoming
creepy.  If he wasn’t dead, I’d think he was stalking me!”

“Strange,”
she mumbled, turning around to scrub the sink. 

I
took the hint and changed the subject.  Her week was stressful enough
without me adding to it.

“Don’t
let Jayne set me up again.”

“Okay. 
But we both know she loves playing cupid.”

I
laughed.  “And loves making me look stupid!” 

Jayne
was responsible for getting Laura and Paul together.  After that, she
thought she had the magic touch for matchmaking.  Any singleton she knew
paid the price for Laura’s happiness.

Laura
glanced at her watch, threw the dishcloth in the sink then turned to me.

I
recognised her
‘do me a favour’
smile. 

“Listen. 
I know you’ve only just arrived, but I need to nip to town.”  She darted
across the room and rummaged through a drawer.  “Do you mind waiting
here?  Read a magazine or something.” 

“I’ll
come with you,” I said, puzzled by her urgency.  “I don’t have anything
else to do.”

Laura
poked around another drawer and stuffed a piece of paper into her bag. 
She cocked her head towards the hall resembling a person with a twitch - not a
flattering look. 

I
dashed out the front door.  “I can take a hint.  But what’s the
hurry?” 

We
drove to town in Laura’s car.  She didn’t answer my question.  Laura
loved shopping.  Today she had no interest in it.

“I
need to nip to the collection office before it shuts.  Will you wait here
for me?”  Laura slipped away, leaving me standing on the path in the
middle of town. 

My
mobile pinged with a text from Jayne, asking how my date went.  I typed a
reply:  ‘
Never again.  You’re sacked! Xx’

Ten
minutes later, Laura returned with a parcel tucked under her arm. 

“What’s
in the box?” I asked, touching it.

“Nothing
important.”  She moved the parcel, wedging it under her other arm out of
my view.

“Is
it for the wedding?  Can I see?”

“No.”

I
folded my arms, and glanced at the parcel from the corner of my eye. 
Perhaps
it’s a bridesmaid gift for me
, I thought, grinning.  “Is it a—“

“You’re
being very nosey lately, Chelsea.”

“Huh? 
What’s that supposed to mean? 
Lately
?”

“Never
mind.  Just forget the damn parcel, will you?”

I
hooked her arm.  “No.  Tell me.  What do you mean?”

"Please,
drop it."  Laura's mouth curved downwards.  

“Take
a chill pill,” I said.  “I was only playing around.  You’re not
normally so secretive.  What’s up?”

Laura
shrugged off my grip.  “I’m not being secretive.”

“And,
I suppose you’re not being snappy, either.”  I nudged her and smiled,
hoping she’d break out of her mood.

Laura
shoved a hand through her hair.  “Chelsea, just... grrr.”  She
marched ahead and didn’t look back.

“Hey,
Laura!  Wait up.”  I chased after her, but lost her among the mass of
bobbing heads on the path.  She simply vanished. 

Holy
crap!
 
What was that outburst all about?
  I figured all brides should be
entitled to the odd ‘
Bridezilla’
moment, but assumed that would be
regarding the dress, the cake... 

The
wind kicked up a small storm of debris around my ankles as I waited, leaning
against a shop wall, staring up and down the busy street.  She’d have to
face me at some point.  My car was outside her house. 

Laura
didn’t accept my phone calls, so I left a message to try and win her
round.  It worked. 

She
returned fifteen minutes later, red-faced, parcel still under her arm. 
“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“I
should think you are.  Don’t do that again or we really will fall out.”

She
hugged me, then we headed to the car and drove to her house. 

I
drank a quick coffee in her kitchen before standing up to leave. 

Laura
showed me down the hall.  She stroked a finger over a framed photo of her
parents.

I
fished my car keys out of my bag, then placed my hand on her shoulder. 
“They’d be so proud of you, Laura Harris.”  I guessed that’s what she
needed to hear.

“Not
for much longer,” she said, with a sparkle in her eyes. 

I
nibbled my lip, trying to understand.  “Huh?”

“My
name.  It’ll be Johnson soon.”

“Of
course.  Mrs. Laura Johnson.” 
Phew!
  I thought,
silly
me
. 

There
was no doubt in my mind she’d have traded
all
her money and houses to
have her parents back - even if just for her wedding day.  I would have
done the same.

“Stay!”
Laura said, turning to face me.  “It’s Paul’s stag do tonight, and I don’t
much fancy being on my own.”

I
nodded.  “Sure.  I’m not at work tomorrow.  I’ll nip home for a
few belongings.”

“Good,
because I’ve got some calls to make.  Check up on the cake, photographer,
that sort of thing.”

Half
an hour later, I returned to Laura’s house with a bag in one hand and a bottle
of bubbly in the other.

“You
shouldn’t have,” Laura said, opening the front door.  “We’ll have bubbly
coming out of our ears if we keep this pace all week.”

We
kicked back on the sofa for several hours watching a romcom movie.  Having
failed to engage Laura in chitchat, I got the impression that company was not
something she wanted, despite having invited me round.  The bubbly stood
unopened in the fridge. 

I
could have chosen this down time to ask Laura why she’d overreacted in town,
but I recognised her need for
not
wanting to talk, as much as the times
when she ached to get something off her chest.  Perhaps she was worried
about what the guys would do to Paul on his stag night: string him to a
lamppost, naked, or something equally humiliating.

My
stomach began rumbling. 

Laura
must have had the same feeling.  “Takeout time.”

“Good
idea,
Bridezilla
,” I said.  I put my hand over my mouth to conceal
my grin, dreading her reaction.

A
hint of a smile flashed onto Laura’s face.

My
phone rang, giving me no time to get excited about food.  I glanced into
the hall following the tune, cheerful yet annoying.  I needed to download
a new ring tone. 

Laura
bolted to the kitchen looking like she’d entered a race, only to stop when she
realised it was my phone ringing.  “Oh, I thought it might be... Paul.”

I
came up behind her and picked up my mobile.  “Don’t you know your own
ringtone?”  I pressed the phone to my ear.  “Hello?”

“Hi. 
Is this Chelsea?” a smooth, male voice asked.

“Yeah. 
Who is this?”

“Lee.”

“Oh!” 
In disbelief, I mouthed his name to Laura. 

Her
eyes rolled in response.  “Leave the poor guy to grieve,” she whispered,
then put her head next to mine and listened in on the call anyway.

“Phillip
gave me your note,” Lee said.  “The one you wrote on a serviette.  We
need to meet.”

 “Meet?”
I said.  “It’s about your brother, right?  I thought we could just
talk on the phone.”

“It
would be better in person.  But tell me one thing, you’re definitely not a
reporter, are you?  Because I don’t want my mum, who’s distraught enough
already, opening the paper tomorrow and reading—”

“No. 
Like I said, it was a ploy to get free drinks.  I swear.”

Laura
tensed at my side, shook her head and stepped away from me.  A drawer
scraped open and she turned, waving a takeout menu in the air and smiling
brightly.

“I’m
at my friend’s for the night,” I said.  “Can we meet up tomorrow?”

“It
won’t take long, besides, I’m busy tomorrow.”

“I’ll
have to ask Laura.  It’s not fair if I… hold on.” 

Her
eyes ran over the menu on the kitchen counter.  She said nothing, but I
sensed her growing irritation.  Before I could whisper a single word, she
shook her head again, without even looking at me.  Annoyed with her, I
said, “I’m going to meet him.”  I figured some time alone might be just
what she needed. 

Laura
paused mid-motion.  Her attitude became clear when she dropped the takeout
menu back in the drawer and slammed it shut with her bottom. 

“Are
you still there?” Lee asked.  “Can we meet?”

I
tapped my thigh while watching Laura stomp toward the hall in a huff. 
You’re
really doing my head in today
, I thought, shaking my head at her.  Her
sharp gaze, while brushing past me, intensified my need to escape for an
hour.  Besides, my so-called ‘dead stalker’ had piqued my interest too
much to decline.  Laura and her fluctuating moods would still be here on
my return, no doubt.  “Oh, let’s live dangerously, stranger!  Where
are you?”