TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Suspense) (17 page)

“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.  The tech guys would surely see it.

“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.  She’d booked the afternoon off work.  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 hapharzardly 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!”