TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Suspense) (40 page)

“Yes,” she replied.  “My aunt keeps phoning in a panic.” 

“In a panic?”

“Yeah.  Over silly tradition stuff.  And she keeps apologizing for something.  She’s driving me mad.”

“I bet she’s been hitting the bottle again.  Take no notice.  Next time she phones, I’ll deal with her.”  Paul grabbed the house phone off the cradle and stuffed it into his pocket.  “We’re leaving for the hotel in about half an hour.”  He winked at Laura, placed a tender kiss on her lips, then briefly glanced at me before returning to the lounge. 

Emma popped the cork then poured Champagne into my glass. 

“Thanks.”  I chugged down a few mouthfuls in one, felt the cold liquid fizz in my stomach.  A minute or two later, I was trying to collar Laura and attempt once more to tell her about the bag before I went to retrieve it, when Mark stomped into the kitchen.

I turned and saw his expression clearly.  His face glowed, had a brilliant red sheen to it.  My heart began to thunder.  Paul was spot on when he’d said Mark looked stressed.  Christ!  His puffy blood-filled face seemed ready to explode.  Mark crushed the can in his palm, threw it onto the worktop, and stomped over to me.

Here we go
!

I wanted to punch his lights out for what he’d put us through.  Trying to act unruffled by his presence, I stretched across the worktop for some snacks. 

Mark leaned over my shoulder and whispered against my cheek.  He smelled of beer.  “What on earth did I ever do to deserve this?”

His use of the past tense baffled me for a second.  The problem was still ongoing, wasn’t it?.  And for a ruthless blackmailer and a possible killer, he sounded quite hurt by my countermove.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” he snorted.

I only just stopped myself from yelling, ‘Cut the bullshit.  I know it’s you.’

While grabbing a handful of peanuts, I felt fingers slide over my bottom.  “Hey!” I yelled.  “What are you doing?” 

Did I need to add ‘pervert’ to the list of his recent faults?

The peanuts fell out of my hand.  I slammed myself back onto the stool, touched my back jean pocket and noticed that my mobile had vanished.  I turned and glared up at Mark.  Standing at my side, he held three mobile phones in his large hands and was smirking like a cheeky kid. 

Shit, shit, shit!  Why didn’t I realise he’d do this?  He was after the photos.  He’d be hacking our computers next.

Laura muttered something unintelligible, gaped at the phones in Mark’s hands.

Unable to speak for fear of the wrong words slipping out in front of the girls, I stayed quiet.  If they learned the truth, they’d kick up a fuss and Paul would hear the commotion.

I grabbed for my phone, but Mark shoved me away and hugged them in his arms.  I slipped off the stool and before righting myself, he snatched the other phones from the worktop. 

The girls, now looking through a stack of CD’s in the corner, didn’t notice their mobiles had gone.

Mark left the room without saying another word, but not before shooting me a vicious look over his shoulder.  He was clearly angry, livid in fact, although his glassy eyes suggested a level of upset.  I guess he now knew he wasn’t the only one capable of calling the shots. 

How can I shop him to the police without a phone? 

 A fast-beat dance track boomed from the kitchen speakers, and panic bubbled inside me.  “Sod it!”  I got to my feet.  I raced after Mark, jumped onto his back in the hall and wrapped my arms around his neck.  “Give them back,” I yelled.  “I want the phones.”

Laura ran in front of Mark and tried to work the phones out of his grip.  A tug-of-war ensued. 

“Grab them, Laura!” I shouted.

Mark wriggled his shoulders, jerked himself around to shake me off. 

“You’re insane, both of you,” Mark roared, twisting and turning.

Then, Mark lost balance and fell to the floor, taking us both down with him.

A door creaked nearby.

“What the blazes is going on here?” Paul hollered, towering over us.

Mark snatched the phones again.  He stood and shouldered past Paul into the lounge.  “I’ll leave you two to explain,” he snarled, then pushed the lounge door shut behind him.

Clever
, I thought. 

Paul moved his questioning stare back and forth between Laura and me.  “Well?”  He reached his hand out and pulled Laura to her feet.

She smoothed her clothing and it took her a good thirty seconds to reply.  “It’s nothing.”

Paul rolled his eyes.  “You’ve been saying that all day about those weird text messages.  Something’s going on around here and I want to know what it is.”  Paul crossed his arms over his chest. 

I thought fast.  “We were playing around.  Winding Mark up for a bit of fun.  You know how it is.”  I forced myself to laugh.

“Why has Mark got your phones?” he asked.

I looked at Laura for help.  There was something tragic about her crumpled face, as though she thought this was the long-dreaded moment of truth.  Her mouth began pulsing open and closed like a goldfish.  She made spluttering sounds, but nothing intelligible.

“Like that, is it?” Paul said, then faced me, set his hand on my shoulder and squeezed.  “Chelsea, will you
please
tell me what’s going on?  You know I’ve been worried about Laura, lately.”

I flinched at the sting from my graze as he squeezed my shoulder.  I pushed his hand away.

“Well?”

Panic pinched at my heart.  After all we’d done to hide the truth from Paul, I wasn’t willing to let this one incident blow it for Laura.  Not like this.  And not now I’d found the rucksack and was so close to proving Mark’s guilt.  “Silly photos,” I blurted out of nowhere.  “For the wedding.  Yes.  Mark wants embarrassing photos to show during his speech.”  I lifted my eyebrows and nodded at Laura, prompting her to back me up.

Mouth no longer bouncing open, Laura began to copy my nod and broke from her shock-daze.  “And we don’t want him to have them.”

Disbelief entered Paul’s eyes which narrowed to a squint.  He turned, curled his palm over the chrome door handle to the lounge.  “I think I should take a look at these photos.”

“No.”  Laura slid her arms around Paul’s waist, pressed her cheek against his back and hugged him tight.

He shuffled around, dragging her with him.  “Why not?”

“Because,” I jumped in.  “If you see them, it’ll spoil Mark’s speech tomorrow.  Won’t it, Laura?”

“Yes.  Everything’s fine, Paul.”  Laura stopped hugging him and slotted her fingers between his.  “It’s just a bit of fun.  We over-reacted.  Please don’t mention it to Mark.”

“Are you sure?  It looked like you were both attacking him.”

“Yes,” we said together.  “We’re sure.”

“Okay,” Paul said.  “If it will spoil the wedding speech, I’ll not mention it.  I think Mark’s got the jitters about it all and I don’t want to make things worse for him.”

“Thanks,” Laura said.  She kissed him and he disappeared into the lounge.

I wiped my brow theatrically at Laura.  “Close one.”

Megan shouted for us.  We hugged before returning to the music-filled kitchen. 

“Where’s my mobile?”  Megan asked, sifting through items on the worktop.  She looked up.  “Have you seen it, Chelsea?”

Emma joined in the search.  “Hey! Where’s mine?” 

“Scumbag Mark’s got them,” I thought angrily to myself, perching my bottom on a stool.

Megan’s eyes increased in size.  “Mark?”

“Shit!”  My hand went to my mouth.  I’d said that aloud?

“Why’s he got my phone?”  Megan stormed towards the door.  “I want it back.  Now.” 

Laura slammed the kitchen door shut in front of Megan.  A blast of air brushed across my face. 

Laura pressed her back against the door.  “No!” she bellowed, extending a hand to keep Megan at arm’s length.  Laura had wild eyes and flared nostrils.  “This is my party.  No phone calls, no texting, no Facebook.  You can have them back later.” 

“I want it now,” Megan insisted.

Anger sharp in her eyes, Laura pointed at the worktop.  “I don’t need this right now.  Go and pour a drink or something and get this party swinging.”

“After I get—”

“Now!  Now!”  Laura’s booming tone impacted the room like firing both barrels of a shotgun.

Even I flinched.

Megan edged backwards.

The other girls’ mouths hung loose.

I beckoned and Laura plodded over to me.

She heaved a groan.  “What in the world are we going to do now?  How can I text Mark?  How can he text me?  We’ll have to use bloody yoghurt pots and string at this rate.”

“Forget the phones,” I whispered.  “I need to tell you something.”

CHAPTER 30

W
hen Jess raced to the downstairs toilet, sick from too much booze, I pulled Laura through the hall to the dining room and shut the door behind us. 

A deep furrow appeared on her forehead.  “Now tell me about this bag.”

I wanted our lives to return to how they were a week ago.  I knew that wasn’t possible and that I was about to toss a firecracker into Laura’s dark world, because, suddenly, I could sense it deep in my gut.  Mark had caved in to my demand
too
easily.  Something else felt wrong.  “The purple rucksack is in your garage.” 

Now Laura was squeezing my arm.  “Are you sure?  Is it really my bag?”

“I haven’t seen inside, but it looked like yours.  It can’t be a coincidence.”

Laura rubbed the back of her neck.  “So, you think Mark’s returned the cash?”

“Let’s not get excited just yet.  I’ll sneak into the garage and get the bag.  Meet you back here in a few minutes.”  I slipped outside, bursting with impatience. 

“Hi!” A voice from the footpath startled me.

I spun around, spotted Laura’s Aunt Carol walking up the driveway.

Of all the times to show up!

Unfortunately for Laura, Carol lived only a couple of streets away.  She was only ten years Laura’s senior, yet looked much older with clown-bright badly applied make-up.  The tatty unbuttoned leather jacket did her no favours on the age score, nor did it conceal her breasts which looked ready to spill out of her low-cut top.  But at least they were still inside her top, today, well, for now.

“Hey.  Erm, does Laura know you’re coming?”

“Thought I’d surprise her.”  She glanced around the cramped driveway.  “Glad I did.  Is she having a party?”

“No,” I said, quickly.  “The neighbours are.  She’s... umm... given them the use of her drive, that’s all.”

Carol walked towards the house and smiled, revealing red lipstick traces on her front teeth.  “I’ll pop in and say hello, seems as I’m here now.  She should be celebrating, last night as a single woman ‘n’ all.”

“No!”  If Laura’s aunt placed even one toe over the threshold and got a sniff of the booze inside, the evening could become more unpalatable than it already was.