WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (6 page)

I
looked at the ceiling, searching for the answers along the hairline cracks I’d
only just noticed. 

Lee
played the keyboard like it deserved a beating, his fingers almost phantom
drumsticks.  The furious tapping took my concentration away, and coupled
with my head feeling like a hammer was tapping my skull from the inside,
drowsiness crept in. 

Shutting
my eyes, I curled up on the sofa and tried to bring guilty thoughts to the forefront. 
I remembered ruining a pair of Jayne’s Jimmy Choos, but that was over a year
ago - nothing to warrant this level of evil. 

I
began to fast forward the last year of my life in my head.  Complaining
customers, fallouts with friends, my parents’ cat dying...  Once I’d ruled
out family and friends – it seemed ludicrous to even consider they’d issue me
with a death threat - my thoughts turned to old boyfriends and the numerous
people I’d dated.  A logical step seeing as the first message contained
the word ‘slag.’ 

“My
old boyfriend Shaun.”  I lurched forward.  “I dumped him on his
birthday last year.”

Lee
swivelled around in the chair.  “And...”

I
thought about the circumstances.  “No.  It can’t be.  He’s been
dating someone for a while now, and he’s never
off
with me when I see
him around town.  Other old boyfriends?  Mark?  Jake? 
Carl?  But why would something to do with the men I’ve dated be linked to
your brother?”

Lee
raised an eyebrow.  “Exactly how many exes are we talking here?”

“I
lost count a long time ago,” I said, instantly regretting it. 

He
looked at me, shocked, as though I were a hooker.  “I see.”

My
cheeks warmed and I wagged my finger.  “Hey!  I like men, but please
don’t think that I sleep with any old Tom, Dick or Harry.  I’ve got my
standards.  Setting me up is kind of my friend Jayne’s hobby.”

“Interesting
hobby,” he muttered.

“They
weren’t all boyfriends.  I’ve been on a lot of dates, that’s all. 
But, not this year, well, only when I’ve been pushed into it.” 

Lee
looked relieved to hear I wasn’t the local bed-hopper.

I
continued thinking.  “I just can’t remember things ever ending
too
badly.  It’s not like I cheated, or stood a man up at the altar.”  I
had to think harder, dig deeper, pull at the roots.  “I’ve obviously done
something terrible, so why don’t I know?”

“Neighbours? 
Friends?  Family?” he suggested, trying to trigger my memory.  “Don’t
rule anyone out unless you’re one hundred percent sure.  Do you go to a
gym?  My brother did.”

“Call
me unhealthy, but I don’t work out.  Well, not in a gym.”

“Colleagues?”

“Hmmm...
maybe it’s someone from work.  I was promoted to head receptionist last
year.”  I tapped my lips and thought.  I got on well enough with the
other girls to go out for drinks.  “No.  Not them.”  Frustrated,
I fiddled with a coaster.  It slipped through my fingers.

Hearing
the soft thump as it hit the laminate floor must have sparked a new line of
thought.  Lee walked over, picked up the coaster and handed it to
me.  “Got any dodgy friends?  Done anything illegal?  I need you
to be honest with me, Chelsea.  If you tell me everything, I might spot a
connection to Daryl.”

“Erm,”
I said, flummoxed by the intense lock Lee’s eyes had on mine. 

He
clamped his lips together as though he’d picked up on something but didn’t want
to say.

I
averted my gaze.  “I don’t dabble in drugs if that’s what you’re getting
at.” 

Lee
returned to the computer.  He rattled his fingers on the keyboard as if
giving me a Morse code message to be honest.  “This isn’t going well,” he
muttered.

I
folded my arms.  “I’m stumped.  Look, I’m no angel, but I’m not the
devil either.  Surely it should be obvious if I’ve done something
wrong?  I don’t walk round in a little bubble not caring about what I say
to people.  What the hell is all this about?” 

Eventually,
after biting my lip until it stung, I came to a conclusion.  I chucked the
coaster onto the table.  “They’ve got me mixed up with some other Chelsea
Denham.  Did your brother know anyone else named Chelsea?”

He
shook his head several times.  “I’m sure there aren’t that many Chelsea
Denham’s round here.  Nice name by the way.”  The keyboard rattled
again. 

The
computer kept Lee’s eyes off me for a moment, although I expected if I looked
in them I’d see what he saw – my death sentence. 

“We’ve
missed something,” he said.  “Some clue in the emails.  There has to
be a way of finding out who’s doing this.”

“I
remember the phrase from my first message, if that helps.  It said,
‘People
have to pay for what they’ve done.’ 
Just the same as your brother’s.”

Lee
glanced at me.  His eyebrows had a puzzled tilt. 
“People?   Erm.  I wonder.  Maybe there are more targets
besides you and Daryl.”

What
I saw as horror, Lee seemed to take for a challenge.  He studied the email
for the tenth, maybe twentieth time.  “I’m gonna work out who’s doing this
if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

I
grew tired, couldn’t think.  Getting my head around a death threat was, of
course, new to me. 

Lee
swivelled with agitation on the seat, and banged on the desk with his fist at
intervals while analysing the emails. 

“Can’t
we reply?” I suggested.  “Tell them they’ve got the wrong person, just in
case?”

“We
could.”

“Worth
a shot, isn’t it?  No point panicking if it’s not actually me they want.”

“Sure,”
he said, fingers tapping the keyboard.  “Who in the hell is this? 
You’ve got me confused with someone else…  I’ll send something along those
lines.”  He stopped typing for a moment.  “In fact.  No. 
I’ll throw a few comments in to rile them up, pretend you know who it is. 
It might prompt a response and enlighten us.”

“Great,
but fingers crossed it’s not actually me they want.”

“I
think you’ll need to cross more than your fingers.  Someone’s gone to a
lot of trouble to set this up, so I doubt they’d accidentally target the wrong
person.”

I
shut my eyes, massaged my forehead and forced my weary brain to drift deep in
thought. 
The answer must be in my head.

A
loud bang
startled me awake.  I jerked forward on the couch.  Jeez!  I couldn’t
believe I’d fallen asleep.  A cool draft of air threaded through the house
and I rubbed my arms to warm up.  When I looked at my computer desk,
reality plunged the dagger of worry back into me.  The black swivel chair
sat empty.  “Lee?”

No
answer.  He must have left. 

After
all, who in their right mind would choose to befriend a girl with a death
threat looming over her?  I almost felt diseased.

I
got to my feet.  The computer was off.  Perhaps Lee’s way of stating
that I hadn’t received a new message, yet.  I checked the desk for a
note.  Nothing. 

While
gnawing the inside of my lip, I spun around in the room unsure of what to do
next.

Being
alone in my quiet house, feeling angry and helpless, well, I hated it.  I
grabbed my car keys and drove to Laura’s.  After turning onto her
driveway, I cut the engine but remained in my seat.  While looking in the
mirror to tidy my hair, I wondered what I would say. 
Do I really want
to drag Laura into this mess when I don’t even know what it’s about?
 
It would certainly slap a huge dampener on her wedding week.  Helping her
to start afresh had been the only thing I cared about all year.  Her
wedding day was supposed to put us both on a new road to happiness, a golden
one.

A
dim light filtered through Laura’s lounge curtains.  I dragged myself out
of my car and knocked on the front door, intent on keeping my mouth shut about
the mess I was in.  I planned to drive back home at first light, check my
emails, then contact the police. 

A
few seconds later, the door opened.

“Glad
you came back.”  Laura grinned then hugged me in the doorway. 
“You’re shaking.  Come in and warm up.”

A
familiar female voice drifted from the lounge.  “Who is it, Laura?”

I
walked through, stepped onto the plush cream carpet and forced myself to find a
smile for Emma. 

“Are
you okay?”  Emma placed her glass of bubbly on the coffee table and
studied my face.  “You look a bit troubled, and well... rough!”

“I’m
fine.  I dozed off.  Just woken up.”  I patted and smoothed my
hair, wondering for how long I’d need to smile to convince her I was
okay.  “I don’t look that bad, do I?”

“I’ll
get you a drink.”  Laura left the room. 

“And
a hairbrush,” Emma joked.  “I meant to phone you earlier, Chelsea. 
How did your date go yesterday?”

“Not
the best.”

“Aw. 
Too bad.  Laura said you’ve been to see someone tonight.  Another
date?”

I
shook my head.

“And
have you had another one of those virus-thingy emails?”  Emma plucked a
hunk of lint off her shrug.

“No,”
I lied.  She was bound to glance up at me, so I concentrated on acting and
looking all innocent in case she did.  

“Glad
to hear it.  I said it was nothing to worry about.”  She sipped her
drink and I tried not to sigh in relief that she’d believed me. 

Laura
returned with a glass of bubbly and a brilliant smile, but no hairbrush. 
“Worry about what?”

“That
email,” Emma said.

Laura
handed me a glass.  “Oh, that.” 

I
eased into a chair and swallowed a large mouthful of Champagne.  Between
the voices in my head and my friends’ babbling chatter, my mind soon began
whirling.

“You’re
quiet tonight,” Laura commented. 

Emma
laughed.  “Lost your tongue?”

I
faked a smile.  I didn’t relish dealing with things on my own, but
bringing my friends into the loop could put them at risk, too.  I couldn’t
bear that.  Not my closest friends.  This left me with no choice
other than to take a step back.

“Put
some music on and let’s dance,” I shouted, ditching my ponderous mood.

Laura’s
face lit up at my new, spirited attitude.  She nodded before fiddling with
the remote.  Dance music blasted from the corner speakers. 

While
ideas and excuses buzzed around my brain, I downed my drink, leapt from the
sofa and danced as though it were my last chance for fun. 

When
the CD finished, the three of us crashed side by side onto the sofa,
laughing. 

Laura
refilled my glass.  “Thirsty work.” 

Emma
leaned her head back, giggling.

Dancing
numbed my brain, or maybe the champagne did.  Either way, I hoped I’d
tired myself enough to drop straight to sleep tonight.  “Listen. I’ve got
personal stuff to sort out.  I’ll probably not be in touch for a few
days.  But I don’t want you to worry.”

Their
smiles dropped into frowns.  Silence replaced the laughter, spreading an
awkwardness around the room like a bad smell. 

I
leaned forward, bent out of shape by an invisible arc of unease overhead. 
I stared at my feet, afraid my eyes would reveal my hidden worries.  “So,
carry on with the wedding as planned, will you?  And I’ll catch up with
you as soon as I can.”  I downed my drink in one, then waved my empty
glass in the air.  “Who’s opening the next bottle?”

Laura’s
face twitched.  Sat at my side, she wagged her finger at me.  “Oh, no
you don’t.  You can’t say something like that then change the
subject.  I thought you were going to help with my wedding.  What
could be so important to drag you away?” 

I
thought fast.  “I need to visit my parents.”

“Is
it your personal stuff or theirs?” Emma asked.  A grin crept onto her
lips.  She rubbed her hands together then pointed at me.  “Parents my
ass!  I know that sneaky little look.  You’ve bagged yourself a new
man!  That’s who you were with tonight.”

I
paused, noting the obvious delight in Emma’s expression.  She didn’t know
it, but she’d just gifted me with the perfect explanation. 

“Spot
on,” I told them, nodding theatrically.  “Can’t keep my hands off
him.  Can’t hide anything from you, Emma, can I?  So, promise me
you’ll not worry and keep everything on track for the wedding. 
Please.  It’s important to me.”  I stared with new confidence until
they nodded, looking mainly at Laura. 

“This
has all happened very fast,” Laura said.

Emma
continued showing me her toothy grin. 

At
least they wouldn’t worry now, and I didn’t want to sully the run up to Laura’s
wedding by burdening her with the truth, especially when I barely understood it
myself.  Nothing could be allowed to ruin her dreams for a much-deserved,
new, blissful life.  Not even a death threat.  She’d dealt with more
problems than enough this year.

“But
why would that stop you getting in touch with us?”  Laura asked. 
“And it’s just for a few days, right?  I can’t believe you’re going to
disappear days before my wedding.  You promised to be here to help.”

“I
know.  I’m sorry.”

“Maybe
she’s going somewhere in the country,” Emma said, helping me without knowing
it.  “Bad phone reception.”

Laura
didn’t take her eyes off me.  “Don’t get too carried away.  And you’d
better come back in time!”  Judging by her frown, I sensed she believed my
story, just wasn’t happy about it. 

“Yes,
of course.  It’s a few days at the most.  Of course I’ll be back for
the wedding.”  I wished Laura would stop studying my face.

“This
is great news, Chelsea.”  Emma sounded giddy.  “Just had a quick
romp, have you?  That explains your tangled hair.  Let her get on
with it, Laura.  She’s probably going away to a hotel with him.”  She
paused to look at me.  “Right?  A dirty weekend during the week, you
little minx!  I’m really happy you’re dating again.  It sounds like
you’ll have a man for the wedding, after all.”

The
beep of a car horn travelled in from the street. 

Emma
peeked through the curtains, then ran her fingers through her long blond
hair.  “My taxi’s here.  The driver looks kind of cute.”  She
slipped her heels on, grabbed her belongings and made for the front door. 
She winked at me over her shoulder.  “Love to stay and squeeze more gossip
from you, but I have to get going.  Let me know how it goes with your
mystery man, and hopefully he’s got a brother for me!”   

We
waved until her taxi drove off, then shut the quiet streets away for the night.

Laura
aimed a curious look at me.  “I’m guessing that... Lee is your new
man?  How did this happen so fast?” 

I
nodded, but gave nothing else away.  I ran my fingers along the wooden
banister until I reached the top of the curved staircase. 

“Aren’t
you going to tell me about it?” she asked, flipping the keypad open on the
house alarm.

“Another
time.  I’m tired.”

“He
seems rude.  I don’t like him.  He expected you to drop everything to
meet him tonight.  You barely know him, and now you’re romping and booking
hotel rooms?”

The
baldness of Laura’s comments caught me off guard.  The subsequent silence
meant she expected a response.  I didn’t have one.  Not one I wanted
her to hear.

“I’m
sorry, Chelsea.  I’m just looking out for you.”  She paused. 
“Do me one favour.”

“What?”

“Before
you go jumping into bed with him – if you haven’t already - find out exactly
who you’re jumping into bed with.”

Her
words made no sense.  She wanted me to start dating again, and although I
wasn’t, I wondered at her problem with this particular guy.