WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (11 page)

A
fter the police
collected my house key to give to the forensics team, I stomped back into Lee’s
kitchen. 

He
pulled me away from the worktop before my fist slammed down on the crockery
stack.  I found myself draped over him.  His strong arms felt like an
armour casing around me, keeping me safe.  I hadn’t realised how much I
needed someone’s touch, until now.  His warmth took the edge off the
tension like a shot of tequila. 

A
moment later, he spun me around and rubbed my shoulders through the dressing
gown.  I closed my eyes and pictured myself weighted down in a rising tide
- the water swelling up to my chin while I waited helplessly for the
inevitable. 

Exactly
how bad were things going to get?

Lee
let go of me and started making tea.  Steam rose in grey twists from the
spout of the kettle.  

“The
British way of solving problems,” I muttered.  “Let’s hope it works,
though I could do with something stronger.”

Once
in the lounge, Lee ordered takeout and handed me one of his t-shirts and a
blanket so I wouldn’t have to stay in my dressing gown.  I draped the
t-shirt over the back of the sofa, but wrapped myself in the blanket like a
sick person.  “Thanks,” I whispered.  “You’re being too good to me.”

He
sat beside me.  “You need to warm up before you catch your dea—”

I
pretended not to hear his remark. 

 “Sorry.” 
He switched the TV on.  “Let’s have some time out.” 

I
curled my legs underneath me on the sofa and stared around his room.  The
black curtains matched the plump leather sofas which had silver over-stuffed
cushions on each end.  I stroked the soft fabric.  “It’s like sitting
inside the pages of a style magazine.  Puts my house to shame.”

“I
like your place.  It’s cosy.”

“I
think the word you’re looking for is ‘battered.’”  I pointed at the large
canvas above his fireplace.  “That would suit my house.  I bet I could
kick tins of paint over a canvas and sign the corner.” 

Lee
laughed.

Once
this horrid week was out of the way, and as soon as Laura had become Mrs
Johnson, I’d get my own life back in order and spruce up my home.

My
gaze lowered to a group of photo frames resting on the hearth.  The
largest stood proudly on the left in a shiny, black frame.  Not even a
speckle of dust tainted its surface.

I
pointed.  “Is that your brother?”

He
blew into his mug.  “Yes.” 

I
couldn’t help taking a second look.  The photo was much clearer than the
snapshot from his wallet.  Daryl had very short, dark hair, a sharp
jaw-line and deep-set eyes.  His face fascinated me because I assumed I
should know him.  “He’s handsome.  I can think of three friends who
would have gone for him.”

Lee
shrugged.  “I never looked at him like that.  But I guess you could
say he was nice looking.”

I
glanced between the photo and Lee.  “I can see the resemblance.”

His
lips twitched, and then he smiled.

I
leaned over the coffee table and thumbed through the perfectly stacked men’s
health and style magazines and cinema booklets while I finished my drink. 
A movie buff.  Great.  “Where do you work, Lee?  We’re spending
all this time together, yet I hardly know a thing about you.”

“At
Jackson’s Printers.  I’m one of the managers.  I deal with the
clients, polish designs on the computer, that sort of thing.”

“Do
you like your job?”

“Yes. 
It can be a challenge at times, but I like that.  Where did you say you
work?” 

“I’m
a dental receptionist.”

“I
remember now.”  He glanced over.  “That explains your thousand watt
smile.  You should smile more often.”

“Thanks. 
I’ll remember that.” 
If
I live long enough. 
“And you
enjoy the cinema?”

“Sure
do.  Thrillers, horror, sci-fi...”

“Nachos
or popcorn?”

“Both. 
But not together.”

“Steak
or fish ‘n’ chips?” I said, trying to further lighten the atmosphere.

He
winked.  “Fish on Fridays.”

I
settled back into the sofa, but my fear never lay far away and I couldn’t
relax.  Unable to stop twitching my toes, I nipped upstairs to freshen up
and hoped it possible to wash my troubles down the sink. 

I
flushed the toilet, then washed my hands and splashed my neck with cold water
while staring at my tired reflection in the mirror.  I felt useless. 
I couldn’t just sit and do nothing.  I slapped the edge of the sink,
slipped Lee’s t-shirt on then darted down the stairs on a mission, just when he
hung up the phone.

“The
police phoned.  I tried shouting to let you know.  And the takeout
arrived, too.”

Lee
had poured glasses of white wine for us, and tipped the Chinese takeout onto
plates. 

I
perched on the arm of the sofa.  “What did the cops say?  Should I
call them back?”

“They’ve
yet to come up with anything concrete, and there haven’t been any similar reports
of these emails.  They say the Coroner’s report about Daryl’s death being
accidental still stands.  And Carl wasn’t one of his patients.  The
fact that you replied to the email helped.  It’s registered to a
fifty-three year old local man who died months ago.   The emails were
sent from various IP addresses.  They’re monitoring activity on the
account.”

So,
it was shaping up to be just me, Daryl and Laura.  I had hoped someone
else would know what this was all about.  “I’m not sure if I feel better or
worse for knowing that.”

“They’re
sending patrol cars to drive along the street outside both of our houses
tomorrow night.  That’s some comfort for you, I suppose.”

I
stuffed a few mouthfuls of noodles into my mouth then unzipped my handbag.

“Not
sitting down?” Lee asked.

“I
need to do... something.  Need to find...”  I grabbed the photo of
Daryl from the fireplace and stuffed it into my bag.

“What
are you doing with that?”

I
slung the bag over my shoulder.  “Your brother had a mystery girlfriend,
right?”

He
nodded.

“Maybe
she knows how I’m linked to him.”  I stalked toward the hall, then glanced
over my shoulder.  “Coming?”

Lee
grabbed his keys and followed me out.  We climbed into his car and he
started the engine.  “Where to?” 

“A
bar.  Take me somewhere that Daryl used to hang out.”

Lee
pulled out of his parking slot and drove us to town.  He parked on a side
street, round the corner from a bar with a green frog logo.  I’d been here
numerous times myself, but under different circumstances.  On entering, we
began flashing Daryl’s photo to punters in the bar.  After ten minutes,
and no leads, we left and checked out the bar across the street.

“This
isn’t working,” I said.  “Let’s split up.  Maybe people will talk to
us more if we’re not together.  You try the girls, I’ll ask the men.”

“Flirt
for information?”

“If
that’s what it takes.”  I flicked my hair over my shoulder and stepped to
the entrance of the third bar.  “I’ll keep the big photo of Daryl.”

“I’ll
use my wallet picture.”

“Someone
must know him, or this mystery girlfriend of his.  They must have gone out
on dates at some point.”

I
pushed the thick wooden door open and stepped inside, trying to stay
positive.  We split up.  Lee walked over to a group of women at the
seating area by the entrance.  I worked my way into the thick of the bar
where people mainly stood in groups or couples.  I produced the framed
photo of Daryl from my bag and thrust it in the face of everyone I walked
past.  “Do you know this man?  Ever seen him in here with a woman?”

I gained
little more than head shakes and frowns from my questions, but did get offered
drinks from several men whose stares I could feel running over my skin from
behind. 

“Don’t
walk off,” one man said.  “Sit.  Have a drink with us.”

Barging
my way to a table of men in the far corner, I bumped into someone who was
trying to cross in front of me.  A beer bottle slammed into my
stomach. 

“I’m
so sorry,” a female said. 

I
stared up.  It was my friend Jayne.  “Oh, my god!”  I hugged
her.

“Hey,
Chelsea.  I didn’t know you were coming out tonight.  I’m just about
to leave.  Got work in the morning.”

“I
didn’t plan it.  Spur of the moment thing.”

Jayne
looked down at the photo frame tucked under my arm.  “What’s that?”

I
showed her the picture of Daryl.  “I’m looking for a girl who used to date
this guy.”

“Why?” 
Jayne studied the photo, and her lips twisted to one side.

“Long
story.”  I hugged her again then sidestepped her.  “Can’t stop to
chat.  We’ll catch up soon.”

She
touched my arm.  “That’s Daryl, right?”

I
stopped dead, twisted around.  “You know him?”

“Vaguely. 
He died recently, didn’t he?”

I
nodded.

“He’s
a friend of Phillip.  That guy I set you up with on Sunday.  Sorry to
hear the date didn’t go too well.”

I moved
so close to Jayne that I stood on her toes.  “Do you know who Daryl’s last
girlfriend was?”

Jayne
dragged her shoe from under mine and swigged her drink.  “I know who she
could
have been.”

“Eh?”

She
raised her overly plucked eyebrows.  “You.”

I
opened my mouth but couldn’t speak.

“I
tried to set Daryl up with you last month.  He seemed interested... until
I showed him your photo.”

My
mind began bonging like church bells were inside my head.  “My
photo?  What are you talking about?”

“The
one on my mobile.  I show it to all the men I set you up with.”

I
was taut, disturbed at having my picture flashed around town as though Jayne
was pimping me out. 

“Don’t
look so worried.  It’s harmless.”

“Harmless? 
I.. er...”  I realised now how Phillip knew my face when I entered the bar
on our date. 

She
continued, oblivious to why I was speechless with my mouth agape.  “So
anyway, Daryl stared at your picture on my mobile as though he thought he
recognised you.  Then when I suggested setting you two up on a date, he
said, ‘No.  Out of the question,’ and walked away.”

“Really?”

“Yes. 
Really.”  Jayne pulled out her mobile and searched for my picture. 
“The photo’s blurred, but I think you still look stunning as ever in it. 
I don’t know what his problem was.  Perhaps I should take another photo.”

“Don’t
bother.  And you can delete that one while you’re at it.”  My
self-esteem took a hit.  I’d been rejected by a guy I’d never met. 
The guy I was investigating.  How creepy.

Jayne
slid her phone back into her pocket, pulled out a pink tube and spread gloss
over her lips.  “I’ll tell you one thing though, whoever Daryl was seeing
must have been truly something.”

“Why
do you say that?”

“He’s
not like most guys round here who dip their liquorice into every flavour of
sherbert on offer.”  She nudged me with her elbow and winked.  “If
you know what I mean.  He was picky.  Looking for love, not just a
one-nighter.”

I
stroked Jayne’s shoulder then stepped away.  “Thanks.  Got to
go.  If you think of anything else, let me know.”

“Sure
thing.  See you at Laura’s on Friday.”

The
group of men I’d been heading toward, before bumping into Jayne, had
disappeared.  I walked over and sunk down into a seat at their table,
which was crammed full of empty pint glasses and soggy coasters.  I rested
my elbows on the table, trying to avoid wet patches, and buried my face in my
hands.  No one had given me a lead on Daryl’s mystery girlfriend, and he
either knew me, or just didn’t like the look of my face.  My ears began
buzzing.

“There
you are.”

I
raised my head.  “Lee.”

He
carried a bottle of white wine, two glasses and bags of crisps to my
table.  “Thought you might be getting thirsty.  Any luck?”

“Not
really.  You?”

“No.” 
He pulled a chair out and sat beside me.  He filled my glass to the top,
but barely poured two fingers worth in his.  “Just a taster for me. 
I’m driving.”

I
took a sip.  “Let’s hope the police have more luck.  I hope they find
a print or something in my bathroom.”

He
moved the empty pint glasses to the end of the table.  “I doubt they’ll
find anything.”

“What
makes you say that?”

He
took a deep breath.  “This person is clever.  Daryl’s death was made
to look like an accident.  The emails aren’t something the average person
could conjure up.  Whatever the connection is between you, Laura and
Daryl, I guess this creep knows it’s not obvious otherwise the police would be
knocking on their door.  Want me to continue?”