WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (9 page)

“You
know what?  It could be Carl,” I said, breathlessly.  I rewound my
steps, wondering if I’d seen Carl on more than the one encounter in the
week.  Near the café bar?  Lurking behind a wall on my street? 
I hadn’t.  But then, if someone was secretly following me, I expected
they’d be clever enough to go unnoticed.

“Why
him?”  Lee’s face flickered with hope.  “Who is he?”

 “He
was my date on the evening Laura’s parents died.  But he has no reason to
want to scare me, and certainly not Laura.  She’s the one who suffered the
most.”

“Maybe
he’s upset that you never dated him again, and took that as a sign that you
blame him for the accident,” Laura muttered.  “Please don’t go knocking on
his door, or barging into his house to accuse him just like you did to me,
Chelsea.”

“Why
not?” I said in a deep, growling voice.  “If it is him, he’ll get more
than a knock on the door.”

“I
really don’t think it is Carl, you know.”  Laura pursed her lips and shook
her head.  “The poor guy was distraught over what happened.  I’m sure
he wouldn’t want to drag things up again.”

“Hold
on!”  A memory flooded back.  “Remember what Carl said to us in
town?”  I sat rigid and looked at Laura.  “He asked us for the time,
didn’t he?  Maybe he was referring to the timers in the emails?”

“Yes. 
He did ask that,” she flexed her voice.  “But he looked in a hurry. 
Besides, I doubt he knows our email addresses, and why would he risk getting
into trouble just because you wouldn’t date him again?”

I
looked at Lee.  “Did your brother know anyone named Carl?”

“The
name’s not familiar.”

Given
my state of mind, I knew I might have been wrong.  If not Carl, then who?

Lee
fiddled with items on Laura’s desk.  I think the lack of suspects
irritated him.  “Let’s go,” Lee said.  “We should phone the
police.  I’ll wait until we get back to your house to check your
email.” 

As
I met Laura’s eyes, her face froze into a mask of trepidation.

She
gulped.  “The police?”

“Hopefully
the police can trace the source of the emails.”  I gave Laura another
sympathetic hug then stood.  “Who does know both of us
and
Daryl?” 

Laura
shrugged, but then, her cold gaze flashed over my shoulder to Lee.  Her
eyes took on a suspicious quality. 

“Where’s
Paul?” I asked.  “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“He
sent me a text.  He’ll be home any minute.”

I
stood at Lee’s
side as he sat at my desk and curled a hand over the computer mouse.  “If we’re
right about the time pattern, Chelsea, the email should be here.  Do you
want to open it, or shall I?” 

I
took a deep, cleansing breath.  “Go ahead.”

By
now, Lee knew my password as if it was his own.  He logged into my email
account.  The inbox loaded.  In the spam folder, the word
‘urgent’
grabbed my attention like a red warning stamp on a utility bill.  Lee
double clicked on the subject line.  The screen burst to life.  The
countdown timer ticked off its rhythm of annoyance again.

“Yep. 
There’s another game on here,” he said. 

I
rested a hand on the top of the computer chair behind Lee’s head, and fixed my
gaze on the screen.  “Let’s get it right this time.”

The
golden number sixty glowed brightly from a second, but smaller, countdown
timer.  It gave us one minute to play a puzzle that I desperately wanted
to win.  Utterly crazy, yes.  But as far as I knew, my life, and now
even Laura’s, depended on getting it right. 

Lee
wheeled his chair closer to the screen.  “What do we have to do?”

I
saw nothing but a blur at first while he scrolled further down the page, nosing
around. 

“Keep
the page still, will you?”  My head throbbed in rhythm with the ticking
speakers. 

“Nothing
useful here.  Let’s start the puzzle.”  He brought the shapes and
timer into full view. 

I
leaned forward, placing my hand on the desk. Movement on the screen caught my
eye.

Forty-five
seconds.  Forty-four.  Forty-three.

“Oh,
crap!” I yelled, my heart drum-rolling.  “The game’s started already!”

Forty
seconds. 

“Shhh. 
Quiet a second.”  Lee read the small print below the puzzle. 
“Assemble the shapes into a square.  Do it quickly to end your nightmare.”

“A
square.  Right, let’s win this.  Come on,” I screamed, only biting
distance from his ear. 

Lee
flinched at my voice, then clicked on several shapes and moved them across the
screen in haste.  Many edges jutted out, making the cluster resemble a
clumsy star. 

I
pointed.  “Move that shape to the right.” 

“It’s
too wide.”

Thirty
seconds.  Almost there.  Only two pieces looked out of place, and
enough time remained to swap them around.

“Switch
those,” I said, my fingers floating in front of the screen. 

“Ugh. 
Chelsea!  I’m trying to concentrate.  Move your hand.” 

 “The
pieces are all so different.  It doesn’t even look like it could make a
square.”

“I’ll
switch the blue and the yellow,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. 
“Stuff the red one.”

“Why
won’t you listen?”
 
I reached over and grabbed the mouse off
him.  Hunched over the desk, arm stretched across his legs, I clicked on
the red shape.  It dropped and got left behind.
 

Lee
gasped. 

I
positioned the cursor again, clicked, and managed to move it.  Twelve
seconds. 

“Come
on,” he said.

I
dragged the yellow ‘C’ shape to the left, and replaced it with the red
one.  Ten seconds remained. 

“No. 
That’s not right,” Lee shouted. 

“I
know.  I know.  I’m trying my best here.”  Either the desk was
rattling or my nerves were shaking it.  I turned the red piece by ninety
degrees, then slotted the yellow into the top left space.  I blinked,
desperate to see a perfect square. 

Lee
banged his fist on the desk, causing a pen to roll.  “It doesn’t
fit.  We’re out of time.”

A burst
of high-pitched notes beeped through the speakers then stopped. 

I
took my hand off the mouse and pointed at the screen.  “It looks like an
Early Learning children’s puzzle.  How could we get it wrong?”

Lee
shoved papers across the desk, then head-butted the head rest on the
chair.  “Goddamn those stupid games.”

The
brief moment of hope had washed away all too quickly. 

A
large red X flashed onto the screen, literally painting our failure onto the
puzzle.  A wicked cackle grew loud through the speakers. 

I
jerked away.  “At least someone’s having fun.”

To
add to my mood, Lee wheeled his chair back and the castor ran over my big
toe. 

“Ouch! 
Watch what you’re doing,” I yelled, clutching my foot.

“Sorry,
Chelsea.”

I
hopped over to the sofa for a breather.  My last thoughts as I drove away
from Laura’s house pinged into my mind.  Why had Lee ignored my
suggestions?  Did he have any intention of solving the puzzle?  I
stared in wonder at the back of his head.  But then, he sighed.  He
sounded disheartened, too. 

Still
seated, he wheeled closer to the desk and then looked over his shoulder. 
“We’d better check the timer.  Are you ready for this?”

I
signalled
okay
with a nod.  “Go on.  How long do I have on
the... deathclock?” Toe still throbbing, I staggered to his side. 

“They
sure know how to keep us busy,” he complained. 

The
timer was different again.  Four circles were positioned in a row across
the screen like car dashboard dials.  The first represented
days
,
the second
hours
, then
minutes
and
seconds
.  I
wondered why they’d gone to so much trouble when a digital clock would have
done the trick. 

We
watched, unspeaking, counting the markers around the circles with our fingers
touching the screen. 

I
faced Lee.  Like looking in a mirror, my jaw flopped down when his
did.  “One day.” 

“Jeez!” 
He turned, stared unblinking at the screen.  “The deadline is nine,
forty-three tomorrow night, precisely.  That soon?”

“Oh,
hell!”  I stumbled backwards and collapsed onto the sofa. 

Lee
was wringing his hands awkwardly, swivelling in the chair.  “There’s still
time to sort this out.  Don’t panic.”

I
dragged the all-important question from my throat.  “On a scale of one to
ten, how convinced are you that Daryl was murdered?”

Lee
pressed a finger over his lips and drew a deep breath, as though needing a
cigarette before answering.  “Nine.”

“Why?”

“I
think we can presume that Daryl received more than one email, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“The
emails come late morning, right?

“Mine
and Laura’s do.”

“Daryl’s
email, the one I showed you, was sent the day
before
Phillip discovered
Daryl’s body.”

“And...”

Lee
clenched and unclenched his jaw.  “Phillip found Daryl just before
noon.  If whoever is sending these emails,
didn’t
know he had died,
then they’d have sent one that very morning, wouldn’t they?”

I
gulped.

He
stuck the end of a pen into his mouth, bit down and then whipped it out. 
“Besides, it’s got to be more than a coincidence to receive a death threat and
then—”

“Plunge
to your death?”

“Exactly.”

“I
agree.  Sorry for... you know.”  I didn’t need anyone to connect the
dots.  I was next. 

I
stood, and paced in and out of the kitchen.  The unrelenting wall clock
reinforced my terror, with every heartbeat marked by an obnoxious tick that I
ached to silence.  I was in over my head and wanted out.

“Don’t
give up,” Lee said.  “Giving up means failing, and we’re not going to
fail.”

“Don’t
give up?”  I stopped pacing and faced him.  “Someone’s planning on
killing me tomorrow night.  We don’t have the faintest idea why.  If
I knew, I’d go to the creep’s house and sort it out this very second.”

Lee
walked over.  He tilted my chin up with his finger.  “I’m here for
you.  You’re not in this alone.”

I looked
at him, desperately searching for something beyond the problem in his eyes
staring back at me.  The quiet room felt still and we didn’t speak. 
For a moment, it felt like he had managed to pause time.

He
stroked my temple with his thumb.  It left a warm spot.  Then, as
though he’d released his finger from a pause button, my mind joined real-time
again.

“I’m
calling the police,” he said, his voice distinct and clear.

I
nodded.  “We should’ve done it sooner.”

“I’ll
try to get put through to the officer who was in charge of Daryl’s case.” 
He pulled out his phone and dialed.  “Police, please.  Yes, I need to
report…”

 “
H
ow’s your toe?”
Lee asked.  “Want me to rub it?”

“What?”
I replied, sitting on the sofa.  “Yes.  Er, no.  Forget the toe. 
What’s taking the police so long?”

Lee
pressed his lips together in a barely-there smile, and returned to the
kitchen.  I thought he was trying not to laugh.

Rub
my toe?  I guessed he was trying to take my mind off things.  It
worked for about ten seconds.

There
was a knock at my front door. 

“That’ll
be them,” Lee said, washing our lunch plates in the sink.

“Finally. 
I’ll get it.” 

I
greeted two male officers, directed them along the hall and into the dining
room.  I stood in the doorway. 

Lee
entered the room from the kitchen side, drying his hands on a towel and chewing
gum.  “Oh!  I was expecting... never mind.  Thanks for coming so
soon.”

The
policemen fiddled with their radios.  When the muffled voices and
crackling died down, they introduced themselves as Officer Baines and
Richardson.

 “Someone
is threatening me,” I announced, scared that talking to the police would make
it even more real.  “I’ve been getting threatening emails.  There’s a
timer counting down and—”

“Let
me take some details from you first.  Your full name?”

“Chelsea
Denham.”

After
ten minutes of questions and answers, the shortest officer flipped his notepad
closed and looked across to me.  “Can you show us the emails?”

I
stepped over to the computer, logged in and brought up the latest one.

The
police officers stepped forward.  They read the words, heard the ticking…

“I
see.  How many have you received?”

“Three. 
I may have had more, but deleted them.  My friend has been getting them,
too.  Laura Harris.”  I gave them Laura’s details.

 “Do
you have any idea who could be sending them?” the taller Officer asked. 
“The sender’s email is titled ‘No fool.’  Does that mean anything to you?”

“Not
really.  Well, I know a guy named Carl Sanderson.  It’s possible he’s
trying to get back at me over something that happened last year.”  I
shrugged.  “But I’m really not sure.”

They
scribbled in their notebooks again. 

I
stayed quiet, listening to the slow scratches their pencils made on the
paper.  I swapped a curious look with Lee.  I think he was wondering
the same as I. 
How seriously are they taking our story? 

“What
makes you think it’s a death threat?” the tall officer asked.  “There’s no
direct mention of this in the message.”

Lee
shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped forward.  “Because my brother
received them, and he’s dead.  I no longer believe it was an accident.”

The
officers shared a long and serious look.  “When was this?” 

“Two
weeks ago.”

“I’ll
need your brother’s name and the officer who was in charge.  We’ll look
into it.”

“Okay.” 
Lee gave details about Daryl.  “I want you to re-open his case.  I
don’t believe his death was accidental.  He hasn’t received any more of
these emails since he died.  That’s got to mean something.”

The
officer nodded while scribbling.

“What
should I do now?”  Hope hung off my words.

“Did
Carl Sanderson know your brother?” the officer asked Lee.

Lee
shook his head.  “I know most of his friends.  He could have been a
client though.  His colleagues could answer that.”

The
second officer left the room.  I heard his muffled voice and his radio
crackling in the hall.  The tall officer pocketed his notepad then crossed
his arms behind his back.  His stiff pose made him look even taller. 

I
tilted my head up. 

“Do
you have a friend or family member you can stay with?” he asked. 

The
picture of an idyllic hotel popped to mind.  I nodded.

“In
the mean time, we’ll start making enquiries.”

I
figured immediate answers were not on the horizon.  I don’t know why, but
I expected more.  Helicopters, bodyguards…  Well, maybe nothing
quite
so dramatic, but something. 

I
handed the officer a printout of the email, along with my account
details.  Then, I glanced with dread at the clock on my computer screen. 
Every second that passed dragged me closer to danger.

“You
know there’s not much time left until the deadline, don’t you?”  Lee said
firmly, as if reading my thoughts.  “The timer on my brother’s email is on
zero.  And the fact that he’s dead…  Like I said.  That’s got to
be bad.”

“We’ll
get on it right away.”  The officer faced me.  “As soon as you know
where you’re staying, Miss Denham, phone the station.  Ask for Officer
Baines.”

“You
can stay at my place.”  Lee crossed the room and draped his arm around
me.  His breath was a mint wave over my face.  “If you’d like.”

I
managed half a smile, but all I could think about was the danger I’d be putting
him in. 

“Have
you noticed anything else out of the ordinary?” the officer asked.  “A car
outside your house, peculiar phone calls, or has anyone been paying particular
attention to you, recently?”

“Well,
no.  It’s just the emails.”  I nibbled my lip, wondering at his
question.  “Oh.  My car was scratched on Saturday.”

“I
see.  Anything else?”

I
shook my head.

“Okay. 
This could be a number of things.”  The Officer nodded at his colleague in
the hall, then continued.  “A computer virus, software to hack into your
computer files, or…” 

“I
hope that’s all it is,” I muttered.

“We’ll
be in touch, but if anything else happens, let us know right away,” the officer
said on leaving.  “I’d suggest not opening your emails again until we know
what they contain.  We’ll get the tech guys onto it.  Try not to
worry, Miss Denham.”

I
doubted I could do that. 

As
soon as I shut the door behind them, Lee turned, and marched into the dining
room.

“Do
you think they’ll find anything?” I caught up to him and met his eyes,
desperate to see a glint of hope in his expression.

“Fingers
crossed.  There’s got to be a way of finding out who’s behind this. 
I’m convinced I’ll come up with a good plan to catch them out if I have some
time to think.  We’ll trick them into showing themselves.  Someone
else could dress up as you, or...  Just trust me.”

I
held my palm out.  “You’re here.  So I guess I do.”