TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Suspense) (11 page)

Her choppy bob of hair swished as she shook her head.

“If you hate me, tell me.”  I pointed my finger at her nose.  “I’ve been waiting for you to say it all year.  But please, don’t scare me.”

“Sometimes I think you’d feel better if I
did
hate you,” Laura said.  “But I don’t.  And I didn’t send that damn email.  Now back off!”

Lee hooked his hand around my elbows.  “Okay.  Let’s bring this down a notch.”

I watched Laura rub her throat, apparently finding something difficult to swallow.  Her lips moved, but no sound came out.  Was she sworn to secrecy? 

“That email didn’t seem to bother you,” I said, probing for more.  “Only someone who’d seen it before would be that calm.  What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing to do with me.  I swear.”

Lee studied Laura.  “Chelsea has just accused you of sending her a death threat.  If you’re innocent, then why aren’t you mad with her?”

Laura’s eyes expanded.  “Death threat?  Please believe me, Chelsea.  I could never hurt you.  Not in a million!  What do I know about computer codes and fancy countdown timers?”

“Fancy?” Lee jumped on her words.  “Chelsea
never
mentioned anything about the timers being fancy.”

Laura’s expression darkened.  “Okay, okay.  You got me.  I am hiding something.”  Her gaze lowered to the floor.  “I’ve been getting the emails, too.”

Mouth open, I stared in disbelief.  Hearing this broke my misdirected anger like a crashing wave.  “Oh, hell!”  I reached out to stroke her arm.  “I’m so sorry.  But why would you hide this from me?”

Lee cut in.  “Do you still have the emails?” 

She sniffed.  “Just one.”

“Will you show us?” he asked.

Lee released my other arm.  I dashed forward and gave Laura a hug. 

The three of us mounted the winding stairs and entered the fourth bedroom.  Laura shoved boxes and bags of wedding items aside, and then pulled her silver laptop to the lip of the oak desk. 

“Boot it up, please,” Lee said.  “I need to read what it says.”

Her finger showed a light tremor when she hit the power button.  The screen lit up and she clicked on the icon for the internet.  She logged in, typed a password then stepped back from the screen.

I squeezed her hand between both of mine, smiled apologetically, then let go and leaned over the laptop.  I clicked on the old email section, then scanned down to the one marked
‘urgent.’ 
“It’s definitely from the same person.”  I faced Lee.  I pointed to the screen.  “Look.  The email account is named
‘no fool.’
” 

Like mine, the hotmail address bore no clue as to who’d sent it.  I
swallowed,
then double clicked to open it.  “Here goes.”

The instant the timer appeared on the screen I burst out crying.  “What the hell’s going on?”  That familiar but eerie ticking sound beat through the speakers.  So, Laura was a target, too.  There were three of us in the loop. 

“See?”  Laura said.  “I neither hate you nor want to frighten you.  If anything, I was trying to protect you.  Do you believe me now?”

“Protect me?”  I stared at Laura, ready for my well-deserved bollocking.

She didn’t say another word, which surprised me.

I wanted to rewind life by half an hour and slap sense into my idiotic self.

“That’s what they meant by the word
‘people,
’” Lee said.  “How likely is it, though, that two best friends would receive these emails?  It can’t be random.”

I needed a private moment to take things in.  I was upset, but also felt guilty for my brief second of gladness about Laura being a target, too.  Glad only because this proved she wasn’t involved in sending them, and therefore, she didn’t hate me.  I swiped tears from my eyes, but more rushed back when I looked at Laura, knowing that she was in danger, too.  “I can’t believe someone’s after you, as well.  Why on earth didn’t you tell me?”

“Do you know who’s sending them?” Lee cut in.  “Or what it’s about?  And look at the message here on the email.  It’s different from yours, Chelsea.”  Lee pointed to the words on the laptop screen.  It read:

‘I know what you’ve been up to.’

“Well, tell
us
!  Because we don’t have the faintest clue,” Lee said tersely to the screen.  He looked at Laura for an answer.

She shrugged.

“
’I know what you’ve been up to,’
” I said in wonder, my voice breaking on the last word. 

Laura tugged my sleeve. 

I pulled my gaze back to her.

“I don’t know who’s sending them.  They’re clever.  Be careful.”

“Why are you whispering?” I asked.

“I’ve been getting these messages for a couple of weeks, Chelsea.  I deleted the rest.”

“I’ve only been receiving them this week,” I said, even more perplexed.  “Why send them to you and Daryl earlier than to me?”  I glanced up at the ceiling.  “Unless, perhaps, I deleted the first batch.” 

“Everyone’s probably receiving them,” Laura said.

“Not me.”  Lee gave a curt head shake.  “That’s one less person.”

“Nor Emma,” I added.

“Okay, maybe not Emma or Lee.”  Laura reached for my arm and pulled me close.  “Don’t let this upset you.  Don’t waste your time on it.  It’s a silly joke or something, just like Emma said.”

“Tell that to my brother!” Lee snarled.  “Daryl is dead.  He received the same email and even pointed me to it with a Goddamn text message on the day he died.  He wouldn’t have done that unless it meant something important.  And, I don’t call his death a silly joke.” 

Laura flinched at the cutting pitch of Lee’s words.  Tears began drowning her eyes again.  Why was she crying if the emails didn’t worry her?

“Did you know Lee’s brother?”

Laura’s eyes flicked up to the left then down to Lee.  “No, I didn’t.”  She shook her head then plonked herself on the bed and sighed.  “And the emails make no sense to me.  I’m just upset that you thought I’d sent them.”

Lee flipped open his wallet and thrust the snapshot of his brother in front of Laura.  “Take a good look at his face.”

She took the photo between her fingers, held it above her lap, and stared for a few seconds in silence.  She handed it back and shook her head. 

 “So, what now?”  I dropped down gracelessly onto the bed next to her.

Lee had his back to us, bending over the laptop, scrolling and clicking the mouse. 

Laura tapped her fingers over her mouth.  I wondered what other words she was keeping inside.  Then, she looked past me, avoiding my gaze, or maybe she was looking at Lee again.  If so, the look she threw him was far from pleasant.  No.  She must have been eyeing the laptop, silently cursing the messages for the trouble they caused.  I could understand that. 

“The other messages you deleted, Laura, what did they say?”  Lee tapped on the keyboard, to check if they could be retrieved, I presumed.

“Same sort of stuff. 
Your number’s up, you can’t ignore this forever
…”

“Oh, Laura,” I said, softly.  “I’m very sorry for suspecting you.  I don’t know what came over me.”  I wiped a tear from her eye, then tried to smile, a show of apology. 

She stared over to the laptop again, watching what Lee was watching.  “I didn’t realise you were
this
worked up about it, Chelsea,” Laura said.  “You seemed fine last night, dancing, singing, laughing, telling us about your
mystery
man.”

Lee shot a questioning glance my way.

I dodged his gaze, turning back to Laura.  “Yeah, well, I didn’t want you to worry.” 

“So... you’re not actually
together
?” Laura whispered, her eyes flicking toward Lee.

I shook my head.

Laura’s shoulder’s relaxed.

“You should have told Chelsea about the emails earlier,” Lee said.  “The more we know the better.”

He cast a glance over his shoulder, and Laura looked away.  The laptop lid snapped shut.  Lee turned around and stood in front of us, looking incredibly tall from my vantage point.  He slid his hands into his pockets and stared around the room.  “Were there any puzzles or games in your other emails?”

“Puzzles?  No.”  Her answer sounded genuine.

His gaze locked on her.  “A number?  Did any of your other emails indicate a number?  You know, you’re third, fourth...  Daryl was number one, and Chelsea’s number two.”

She stuck her bottom lip out, shook her head.

“When do you usually receive these messages?”

“Before lunch time, I guess.”

Lee pointed at the laptop.  “Your email shows you’ve got four days left on the countdown timer.” 

“That’s the morning of Laura’s wedding.”  I gasped, held my hand over my gaping mouth.  “Do you think it’s just a coincidence?”

We were silent for a moment. 

“How long on yours?” Laura asked me, looking like she was holding her breath.

“We’re waiting for the next email to find out.”

I dropped my head and fell into her waiting arms.  “We need to keep ourselves isolated while we work this thing out.  I don’t want anyone else put in danger.” 

“It’s not a death threat.  You’ve got it all wrong.”  She pushed me away until she could see my face.  “Is this why you said you’d be disappearing, last night?”

“Yes.  But, hold on, a few minutes ago you said ‘be careful.’”

“It came out wrong.”

“Someone has a grudge against both of you, and my brother.”  Lee’s tone had bite to it.  “You both need to think.  However insignificant things seem right now, they might not be.  Who have you both pissed off recently?  Who acts weird when they see you?  Is someone hanging around more than usual?  Asks strange questions?  Gives you sly looks?”

He’s good
, I thought.  He got my brain ticking over.  I squinted into Laura’s eyes, trying to work out who would be angry enough with both of us to threaten our lives.  Without realising what ran through my head, a name popped up.  I hissed the name
Carl Sanderson
under my breath to Laura, then looked at Lee.

“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.”