TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Suspense) (19 page)

“It’s natural for you to have doubts,“ Lee said.  “But one of us needs to be in charge of phoning the police.  If you hear anything, anything at all, lock yourself in the bathroom and dial.  If you can think of a better way to handle things, I’m all ears.”

I ran my fingers through my hair.  “Will the police come straight away?  I don’t think they’ve taken this threat all that seriously.”

“They believe Daryl’s death was an accident.  If you take him out of the equation, the emails are pretty vague.  But yes, they’ll come straight away, especially after the stunt in your bathroom.  They know something’s on the horizon.”

An engine hummed from the street outside.  I walked over to the window, peered through a small viewing gap between the planks and saw a police car rolling along the street.  Eerie pops sounded from stone under its tyres.  The vehicle lingered for a moment before driving away.  My heart skipped a beat, noting that the dreaded evening was upon us. 

I returned to the sofa, waiting for the deadline.  Just under three hours to go, my twisting stomach reminded me.

Lee switched the telly on and tossed the crowbar between his hands. 

I began thinking about what I’d do in the bathroom if this individual did get past Lee’s traps.  What if he bust the door, or shot through it?   Would I be able to escape through the window?  No.  I’d break my legs from the fall.  And what would become of Lee if I ran out on him?  Alone in the house with a killer? 

I needed a backup plan.  I couldn’t let Lee handle this creep all on his own.

“Drink?” Lee asked.

I nodded.  Then my phone rang at the same time that Lee rose from the sofa.  I answered straight away.

Laura’s sharp and rushed voice put me on edge.  “Is Lee in the room with you, Chelsea?” 

I scanned the room, heard running water.  “He’s in the kitchen.  Why?  What’s this about?”

“Get out of the house,” she gushed.  “It’s him!” 

“W... what?” I said, startled by the thunder of her voice.

“I’ve had time to think.”

“I don’t get you.”

“He looked at me in a really weird way earlier.”

“Laura stop this.  You’re pushing me to the limit.  Lee’s just wary of you.  You didn’t want to tell us you’d received the emails.”

“He knows something.  And he’s close.  Close enough to keep tabs on us.  Who else is linked to all three of us?”

I peered into the kitchen.  Lee was at the sink, had his back to me.  I whispered into the phone as I stood up.  “Of course he’s linked, stupid.  Daryl was his brother.  Now, unless you’re phoning to apologise, then—”

Laura cut me off.  “Is Lee creative?  A lateral thinker?”

I heaved an annoyed sigh, then went along with her.  I thought about the traps in the house.  “Well, yes.”

“Is he techy?  Into computers?”

I thought about his job at the print shop.  He’d said that involved computers.  “Yes.  I guess he is.”

“So it’s possible he could have put those emails together?”

“I suppose… but just because he could, it doesn’t mean he did.”  I stepped behind the sofa and glanced into the kitchen.  Lee was out of view.  “He’s spent the day thinking of ways to protect me, not harm me.  You’re way off the mark.  Either give me something concrete, or—”

She continued.  “He was in your house when you found that writing on your bathroom wall, wasn’t he?  I bet
he
did that.  How well can you know him after a few days?  We’ve been best friends for years so you should trust me, not him.  He’s gotten close to you for a reason.  He’s managed to lure you to his house when you should be here, with me.  I don’t think it’s
you
he’s trying to scare, but you need to leave.  Now.”

“But it can’t be him,” I murmured, unsure of what to believe.  “Why would he kill his own brother?”

“Just get the hell out of there.  Go!”

“Not me he’s trying to…”  When I heard footsteps approaching, a spasm ran up my arm.  The phone slipped out of my grip, thumped on the floor. 

“Problem?” Lee asked.

I looked up but didn’t respond.

He was drying his hands on a towel in the kitchen doorway.

My body felt more rigid than steel.  Was all the bravado an act to keep me in the house to kill me?  If so, why?
 
What had I ever done to him?
 
I stared at his face.  If Laura had seen through him, why couldn’t I?

A short burst of pleas, like blades flying round the room, came from Laura through the phone.  Lee’s gaze flashed down to my mobile on the floor. 

I didn’t move… couldn’t. 

The room took on an edgy charge.  When he raised his hand to his head, I jumped back, wondering if he intended to grab me.

He surveyed the scene, made a throaty hum, chucked the towel on the floor.

I sensed he was on the verge of understanding.  The shakes had me as I watched him watching me.  We didn’t speak.  Only two or three feet of floor space separated us.  No barrier.  No objects.  If Laura was right, I was exposed and staring at the face of a killer.  My knees shook so much the bones were practically rattling out of my legs.

“Chelsea?  Can you hear me?  I’m coming for you, Chelsea.”  Laura’s panicked voice squawked from the phone. 

I slid my foot sideways while holding Lee’s gaze.  I couldn’t ask him for the truth even if I wanted to, because I could not speak.

“You’re shaking,” he said.  An obvious suspicion squinted his eyes.  “Was that Laura?  What did she want?”  He stood motionless as a rock. 

I tried to look behind his mask to find the killer inside.  I croaked out, “To see if I’m okay.”

“You’re not, are you?  Why did you drop the phone?  Talk to me.” 

“Why did you drop the towel?” 

“She’s said something to scare you.  Why do you look frightened of—”  He stepped back.  “Me?”

I wanted to believe in his innocence.  But if he wasn’t innocent, wouldn’t he then grab for me having figured it out? 

“She… I don’t…” I murmured, and I was breathless now. 

When Lee’s eyes bulged, I knew he’d made the connection.  “Laura thinks it’s me, doesn’t she?” he said with chagrin.  “That’s totally out of order!  I’ve been helping you.”  He retreated a few steps.  “She doesn’t even know what this thing is about, and I’m the one with a dead brother.  What makes her an expert all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my entranced gaze over-analysing every irritated headshake and hand gesture he made.  “But she is my friend and she’s worried about me.”

“For crying out loud!  It’s not me you need to worry about, Chelsea.”  He flicked his head toward the planked window.  “It’s whoever’s lurking out there.”

The thumping of my heart felt like it was rattling my whole body.  “I want to believe you... but Laura’s right.  You’re techy enough to have made and sent those emails.  If you’re innocent, why would she be so on edge around you?”

If I said or did the wrong thing, this situation could deteriorate quickly into the worst kind of nightmare.

CHAPTER 17

T
he confusion clouding my thoughts cleared.  I needed the truth.  I decided to act before I no longer had the courage.

“I’m sick of being scared,” I said, trying to ditch my fear.  “If it is you, there’ll be something on your computer.  Some clue in the history, or a program for designing those email games and timers.” 

The laptop wasn’t in the lounge, so I assumed he’d taken it upstairs.  I grabbed my phone.  “I’m going to look at your computer.  Don’t try to stop me or I’ll phone the police.  You said yourself they’ll drive here straight away.”  I waved the phone in the air, tapped in the digits for the police station and kept my finger poised on the call button.

“Wait!”  Lee yelled. 

He ran from the kitchen to the living room.  He reached out for me, so I hurried for the stairs. 

In a panic, I brushed my hand against the door, knocking the drink tumbler off the handle.  “Stay away from me!”

Rapid footsteps pounded behind me, crunching on smashed glass. 

I’d mounted the fourth step when he grabbed my shoulders.  I lost my footing and screamed.  The heel of my shoe caught the tripwire on the stairs as I tumbled backwards.  I fell, landing on top of Lee, at the bottom of the staircase by the front door. 

He groaned.

Movement made me look up, only to notice the bowling ball swinging in my direction from above. 

“Watch out!” Lee yelled. 

He rolled me sideways and his leg shot up and kicked the ball. 

“Hell.  Ouch!” he cried.

The ball got knocked to the left, hitting the wall hard enough to take a chunk of plaster out.  I felt the impact as it thumped on the floor at my side.

Something pierced my hand making it sting.  A trickle of blood ran down my wrist.  I pulled myself up and pressed on the cut. 

Lee gave a short laugh of relief, which ended in a painful groan.  “Chelsea, it’s not me,” he spluttered, lying on his back, legs sprawled up the bottom few steps.  “Besides, why would I hurt you when Laura thinks I’m behind it?  She’d tell the police about me.  They already know you’re at my house.  I’ll be the first person they point the finger at if you get killed tonight.”

My head spun.  “Everything’s so confusing.”

“If I wanted you dead, I could have killed you at any point, or let the bowling ball have a go.  But I didn’t.  Instead, I saved you.”

I stared at the ball on the floor, surrounded by chunks of wall plaster, realised it could have cracked my skull like a spoon to an egg. 

My fear finally subsided when I looked down at Lee’s twisted ragdoll form.  By protecting me he’d injured himself.  He was no more a danger to me, than I was to him.  I offered my hand, helped him to his feet, and he limped into the lounge.

“I’m sorry,” I said in a cracked voice.  “I guess the only one trying to kill me round here… is me.”

Lee rounded forward on the sofa and rubbed his lower back.  “I won’t argue with that statement.”

“It would be stupid to kill me in your own home when the police are doing drive-bys.”

“Too right.”

Lee leaned forward.  Seeing streaks of blood on his t-shirt sprung me into action.  I eased his top up, exposing an eye-popping toned and triangular shaped back.  Wide at the shoulders and narrow at the waist.  I gazed a moment. 

“Chelsea,” he said.  “The glass!”

“Oh, yeah.  Sorry.”

My mobile rang.  I ignored it and picked the glass out of his skin with my fingers, placing the little splinters on the coffee table.

He told me where to find the first aid kit.  I fetched it from the kitchen cupboard, focused on his cuts again.

“All done,” I said, after sticking a few plasters on him.  I pulled his top back down in one fast motion and got a waft of his aftershave.  How badly I tried to dislike the sweet, intoxicating scent.  My emotions, running from one extreme to the other were driving me insane.  How could I accuse him one minute and have the hots for him the next?

“Where are
you
hurt?”  His voice held real concern.