WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (26 page)

The
screen flashed, then blinked black.

“You’re
kidding me!” I yelled. 

Lee
speeded through the disc, but March 10
^th
didn’t return.  He
faced me.  “Did you notice what Laura was wearing?”

“Yes.” 
I shivered as I spoke.  “The grey studded jacket.”

“The
one she’s wearing in the photo?”

I
nodded.  “This could be moments before she meets Daryl and kisses him on
the doorstep.”

We
held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, then dived across the carpet and
rummaged through the other discs.  “Which one?” I screeched, searching for
a date that wasn’t crossed out. 

“Just
try any.”

“Pick
one.”

Lee
snatched up a random disc.  We came together in the middle of the room on
our knees.

He
waved the silver disc in the air near my face.  “We’re close,” he said, a
smile creeping onto his lips.  “If one of these discs contains March 10th,
we just might spot whoever snapped that photo drive off in their car. 
It’s a one way street so they have to drive past the cameras.”  Lee worked
fast.  He ejected the hairdresser’s disc and replaced it with the random
one from the newsagent. 

With
my tongue almost glued to the roof of my mouth, I bounced on my knees on the
carpet.  “Hurry up.  Play it.”

 Just
as Lee picked up the remote and pressed play, my phone rang. 

“Great,”
Lee grumbled. 

I
snatched my bag and opened it.  Laura’s name flashed onto the screen of my
mobile. 
Typical,
I thought.
  Terrible timing as ever.
 

Lee
paused the DVD and I answered the call.  “Good news,” I said.  “We
might be onto something.”

“I
hope so,” she replied in a hopeless tone.  “Because the girls are asking
me questions and Mark’s giving me funny looks, winking at me.  I’m going
stir crazy in here.  I’ve decided to pay up this afternoon and get it over
with.”

“No,
Laura!  Don’t.”

“I
can’t see the point in getting into my wedding dress in the morning, knowing
what will happen.  I may as well shred it.”

I
covered the mouthpiece, faced Lee, and my heart seemed to be trying to bounce
out of my ribcage.  “I have to go back.  Laura’s losing it. 
Mark’s creeping her out and the girls are suspicious.”  I uncovered the
mouthpiece and spoke to Laura.  “I’ll drive back to your place and we’ll
talk.  Don’t slice your dress or pay a single penny until I get
there.  See you in ten.”

At
least no additional problems had occurred in my absence.  Thank goodness
for small mercies.

I
faced Lee.  “I’ll stall Laura while you go through the other discs.”

“Mark’s
at Laura’s house right now?” Lee asked.

I
bent to pick up my bag.  “Yes.”

Lee
rose so fast from the sofa I wondered if a needle had pricked his bottom. 
He grabbed my arm and his cheeks were stained red.  “You’re not
going.  It’s too dangerous.  Wait here with me.”

“No. 
I can’t.”

He
pointed at the frozen TV screen.  “News flash, Chelsea!  I don’t know
what Laura has put in that head of yours, but, my brother was murdered. 
Don’t put yourself in danger when you don’t have to.  We’re close to
ending this.  Let’s view the discs, drive to Laura’s together with the
good news, and get the bastard arrested.”

“Laura
won’t let you in her house.”

“Tough!”

I
shrugged off his grip. 

“I
know you’re trying to protect her.  But, just how far are you prepared to
go, Chelsea?  What’s this hold she has over you that you’re willing to put
yourself in danger?”

I‘d
been wondering that myself lately – how far I would go.  “I owe her.”

“Why?”

I
inhaled a sharp breath and breathed out slowly.  “Uh... well... Laura’s
parents died because of me.”

Lee’s
eyes pinged wide open like coins.

“I
was on a date with a guy named Carl.”

“The
one who you told the police about?”

“Yes. 
He picked me up and was driving us to a bar when it happened.”

“The
crash?”

“Yes. 
Our tyre blew out.  We veered onto the opposite lane and rammed into the
oncoming car.  Laura’s parents’ car.  It skidded off the road and
flipped, just kept flipping and bouncing down the slope.”  A tear trickled
from the corner of my eye.  “
That’s
how they died.”

Lee
reached for my hand.  “It’s sad.  It sucks.  But it wasn’t your
fault.”

“But
if,” I said, while Lee wiped tears from my face.  “If I hadn’t been on yet
another stupid date, we wouldn’t have been on that stretch of road at
all.  If we hadn’t been flirting in the car, hands on thighs, stealing
glances, we might have seen the lump of metal that popped the tyre.”  I drew
a deep breath.  “The crash wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t gone on that
date.”

“Christ! 
Is that what you think?” Lee said in a high voice.  “Accidents
happen.  You weren’t to know you’d have a blow-out.  You didn’t drop
the metal in the road.”

“I
know.  But still, the guilt and the ‘what ifs’ just won’t go away.”

“Does
Laura blame you and Carl for their death?” 

“No. 
She doesn’t.”  I shook my head.  “But, even so, I can’t help feeling
like I owe her.  If I hadn’t been on a date that night her parents would
still be alive.  She’d never have needed counselling, so wouldn’t have met
Daryl and had the affair.  This whole mess might not exist if I—”

Lee
hugged me.  “Okay.  I get it.  The snowball effect.  And
this is why you won’t go against Laura and phone the police.”

I
pulled away.  “I can’t be the one to destroy her life again.”  I
shoved a hand through my hair.  “If it doesn’t end by tomorrow,
then...  At least I’ve tried to do all I can.”

Lee
stroked my cheek.  “I wish you’d take a step back now.  You’re there
for Laura, but you don’t seem willing to let anyone be there to catch you.”

I
clamped my lips together, stared at the floor.  It irritated me that Lee
was right.

“Let
me
be the one to catch you, Chelsea.”

I
sniggered.  “You did.  Of sorts.  When I fell down your
staircase.”

He
rolled his eyes.  “I mean ‘catch you
before
you fall.’  So I’m
asking you now... Don’t go to Laura’s.”

I
leaned my cheek into his palm.  “Catch me you can.  But
after
this is over.”

Lee
shook his head in despair.

“Don’t
look so worried.  Laura’s got a house full of guests and Paul’s there,
too.”  I laughed.  “Have you seen the muscles on him?”

He
shrugged.

I
stroked his arm.  “I need to do all I can to help her.  Anyway, it’s
not up to you.” 

“I
don’t want you to go over there without me.”

I
thought fast, used his grief to my advantage and then instantly regretted
it.  “You need to watch these discs and find out who took the
photos.  The face of whoever blackmailed, or even killed your brother,
could be on there.”

Lee
squinted down at the discs for several seconds, as though hoping to see the
killer’s face on the mirrored surfaces.  I hoped he could too. 

“Okay.” 
Lee sighed.  “I’ll whizz through these discs, but then I’m driving
straight to Laura’s, whether she likes it or not.”

“Mark’ll
be leaving for the hotel soon,” I said.  “So if it is him, he’ll not be
near us anyway.  So you don’t need to worry.”

Lee’s
eyes turned narrow and serious.  “Promise me you won’t confront him. 
If Mark’s still there when you arrive, drive straight back here. 
Please.  Just this once, do as I ask.”

“I
won’t go near him.  How’s that?”  It was what I thought he needed to
hear.  I slid my arms around his waist, leaned my cheek against his chest
and tried to take his mind off worrying.  “I hope you know how much I like
you, Lee.  It’s taken me a long time to let a man into my life
again.”  Such a tragedy may not have affected some people the way it did
me.    I pulled away, lowered my gaze to his knees.  “Dating
reminds me of that awful crash.  But anyway, I can’t stop the way I
feel.  After this is over, I’d love you to come away with me.  Just
the two of us.  A short break.  But, we won’t call it a ‘date.’ 
The word makes my head spin.”

“I’d
love to go away with you.”  He tilted my chin up.  “On a
‘non-date.’  Try and stop me.”

My
stomach did cartwheels. 

I
pointed at the TV.  “So, the sooner you spot who took those photos, the
sooner we can spent some proper time together.”

Lee
inhaled a long breath and eventually, he nodded.  “Keep your phone with
you.”

“For
sure.  That sleazy photo of Mark is on it.”

“Don’t
do anything with it yet!” he warned.  “I want to be near you when we rile
him up.  I haven’t forgotten about the car that almost ran you down last
night.”

It
felt great, but kind of alien, to have a man wanting to watch my back again,
and in such a determined way. 

I
slipped my mobile into my bag, pushed up on tiptoes and kissed him hard on the
mouth.  He dropped backwards onto the sofa and pulled me on top of
him.  Our lips moved together.  His tongue circled mine, making my
blood pound.  A moment later, he lifted my top over the cups of my
bra.  Letting his hands roam wild, he lavished so much attention on my
body that my heart was a beat away from singing out.  I gasped, threw my head
back while his lips swept along my breasts.  Then I kissed him again on
the mouth.  Every inch of my body ached to have him, yet something made me
pull away.  I broke the kiss, had to.

If
I didn’t leave right now, I knew I wouldn’t leave at all. 

Is
that what Lee hoped?

“Thanks
for the... er...
non-date
,” I said, pulling my top down to my waistline.

Lee’s
smile cooled.  He hummed a gritty note of disappointment. 

Laughing,
I waltzed toward the door wondering what Lee would have done if we’d had more
than one suspect.   Visions of numerous blow-up dolls, strapped to
front doors spanning the neighbourhood, popped into my mind.  It would
certainly have made for entertaining headlines. 

I
left Daryl’s house, trying to retain a seed of hope that the footage would
prove fruitful.  The sooner this nightmare ended, the sooner I could
concentrate on Lee.  I felt like a child longing for Christmas morning.

If
Lee spotted Mark’s face on the surveillance discs, this whole nightmare could
end in a second, and I’d get the old Laura back.  I could almost picture
the finishing line and smell the glory.  This thought put an instant pep
in my step.  But then, just as quickly, I stopped moving, stood rooted to
the spot with my car keys an inch from entering the lock. 

What
if the other discs have been taped over?
 

I
was nervous about pinning my hopes on the footage, for fear of jinxing
it.  Nothing we’d tried up to this point had changed a damn thing.

We
couldn’t rely solely on those discs. 

While
unlocking my car, I pictured the photos of Mark and his plastic airbag
girlfriend.  I nodded to myself.  “It’s time.”  I intended to
expose the blackmailer, solve Daryl’s murder, lead Laura down the aisle, and
then flop onto the crisp sheets of a hotel bed with Lee by tomorrow evening.

U
pon entering
Laura’s house I encountered Mark in the hall.  “Has anyone seen my
gloves?” he said, glancing around.  A light from above shone on the back
of his shaved head.  On seeing him acting as casual as ever, inside the house
of the person he could be blackmailing, my muscles tensed in rage.  Lee’s
request that I give Mark a wide berth got swept away by a tidal wave of
fury.  Twice as irritated because the problem that at first brought Lee
and me together now caused us to be apart, I stormed over to him. 

I
prodded Mark’s shoulder hard from behind.  “I’m onto you,” I said in a
raspy voice.

He
spun around and his gaze washed up and down my body.  “Excuse me?”

I
had the impulse to stick my car key up his long Pinocchio nose to cause him
pain.  “I’ve had enough.  I’m not afraid of calling the police if it
doesn’t stop, and if you cause a scene tomorrow.  You’re a sicko.”

Mark
blinked several times and shook himself.  “What the fuck?”

“It’s
only a matter of time until I get proof to help her.  And when I do, I
swear I’ll use it.  Return everything, excuse yourself from the wedding
and get the hell out of their lives.”

“Chelsea,
you’re insane.  Whacko.  Why would I cause a scene?”

“Drop
the act, Mark.  You’ve done this to break Paul and Laura up.  It’s no
secret you’ve got the hots for her and don’t want to wait ‘til she turns
forty.  I know all about your back-up plan.  Laura told me.”

After
a hesitation, he scowled and held his hands up.  “I have no intention of
causing a scene at their wedding.  Why would you even say that?” 

I
angled my head and returned the scowl. 

Mark
went silent, and then something flashed in his eyes.  “Laura worked out
who the roses were from, didn’t she?”  A disbelieving, yet smug smile
curved Mark’s lips, and then he sighed.  “Okay.  You got me.  I
admit I have a big crush.  But, I’m not a fool.  Laura’s marrying my
best mate.  Game over.” 

I
prodded his chest, and whispered, “You’ve slipped some of those photos into
your DVD for your wedding speech.  It’s obvious.”

A
door creaked and someone tapped my shoulder.  I flinched, twisted around
and stood on a foot. 

“Ouch! 
Careful, Chelsea.  What DVD?”  Paul dragged his stricken foot from
under my red pumps.  “Has anyone seen Laura?”

“No. 
I just… er…” I rushed into the downstairs toilet to avoid explaining
myself.  Having bolted the door, I stood motionless, gripped the sink and
faced the mirror above it.  Breathing heavily, I replayed Mark’s responses
in my head. 
Not a fool?  Game over? 
Had we had two
conversations wrapped inside one or was it purely about his crush on
Laura?  I felt none the wiser.

Nevertheless,
venting had its plus points.  I felt a little less in need of punching
something, or someone. 

I stared
at my glum reflection in the mirror.  Shadows tired my once pretty
eyes.  Make-up didn’t exist in my vocabulary any more, and a furrow
between my eyebrows had deepened.  I let out a long exasperated breath,
then pressed my ear to the door.

No
longer hearing the sound of movement, I stepped back into the hall.  I
glanced at the wall clock, wondering how many hours we had left to solve this
mess.  Troubled and uneasy, I stared up at the static hands, moved closer,
and noticed the absence of a ticking sound. 

Commonsense
argued that this was nothing.  The batteries could have drained.  I
rapped my knuckles on the glass face.  Nothing.  Not a single tick.

I
wouldn’t have given it another thought on any other day.  However, all
three clock hands had stopped, indicating one o’clock.  Not a second or
minute before or after.  One o’clock precisely: the time of tomorrow’s
wedding ceremony
and
Laura’s deadline. 

With
a sharp intake of breath, I pivoted on the balls of my feet and pressed my back
against the wall.  Happy chatter and music poured into the hallway from
rooms downstairs.  In this house, where only innocent friends ought to be,
did Laura’s blackmailer really linger among us?  But then, despite the
subtle method, why would he, or she, want to announce their own presence, by
stopping the clock? 

Everything
still pointed to Mark.  I felt sure of it.

I
wanted to wipe the smug look off his face by calling the police, watch them
manhandle him into the back of a van.  However, Laura’s depressed state
from when her parents died sprang into my mind, like an irritating website
pop-up box.  The image pushed every rational thought out, each time. 
Paul cannot be allowed to find out.
  I didn’t relish watching Laura
slide down the stairway to depression again.  Was I protecting
myself?  Or protecting Laura?

I
moved into the loud and lively kitchen.  In my absence the rest of our
friends had arrived.  All the girls from Saturday’s hen evening. 
Emma, Claire, Jayne, Megan and Jess were sniggering when I greeted them. 
They cleared up glass shards and a Champagne cork from the worktop. 
They’d bust a ceiling light bulb and no doubt wondered why I didn’t bother to
comment.

I
slinked out of the kitchen into the hall in search of Laura.  I missed my
best friend so much I could almost cry.  She’d been acting like a
different person lately.  Snappy, selfish, argumentative...  “Hold
on, what’s going on up there?”  While I strolled along the hall, fragments
of an argument drifting from upstairs yanked me from my thoughts.  

Hovering
at the foot of the staircase, I covered my right ear to blot out the laughter
from the kitchen.  A door slammed above, cutting off the argument
altogether.  A moment later, Paul stomped down the stairs with a hard
grimace.  I experienced a déjà vu moment of dread.  I sidestepped,
pretending to be queuing for the toilet, and twirled a lock of hair while
humming as though minding my own business.  The lounge door opened and
closed.  I hurried upstairs to locate Laura.

After
flinging open her bedroom door, I looked into the room.  Laura, sitting on
the bed, turned to face me.  Her poker-straight hair swung to the side,
revealing glossy red eyes and a strained expression of sadness.  She
flinched away from my gaze and covered her face with her hands, looking totally
absorbed in a web of upset.

I
sat beside her for the next instalment.  “Hit me with it.  What’s
happened this time?”

“Paul
received another text message.”  She continued sobbing, sniffed and
trembled.  “A much worse one.”

“What?” 
I held my breath.  “What did the message say?”  When Mark said ‘game
over’ to me earlier, he hadn’t meant it.

Her
bloodshot gaze rolled up to me.  “I know a secret about your
fiancée.  Ask her.” 

“You’re
not wrong there.”  Concern turned to shock, which, for a second, rendered
me speechless. 
Had I caused this by confronting Mark? 
“This
message is
much
worse.  Any photos attached?”

She
shook her head.  Her face had drained to an ungodly pale shade, bordering
on white.  “I told Paul it was a joke.  That the same person would
probably spray shaving foam in our bed on our wedding night.”

Under
different circumstances this would have made me laugh.  But not now. 

I
passed Laura a box of tissues from the nightstand.  She blew her nose and
screwed the tissue in her fist.  I rubbed her back during a brief
maddening silence, while discreetly scanning the room for the white handbag of
cash.  I couldn’t spot it. 
Where’s the cash?
  I spoke in
my softest voice.  “You didn’t hand over the money while I was gone, did
you?”

She
shook her head. 

“Then
we’ve still got a bargaining chip,” I said, brightly.

My
natural impulse was to cuddle her, but my brain began drowning through
overload.  I couldn’t be a comforter, a problem-solver and a detective all
at once. 

I stared
at her, regretting all the times in my life I’d moaned about the little things;
slow drivers who hog the fast lane, irritating music when your phone call is
put on hold, stepping in dog poop...  These trivialities, that are so
enraging at the time, pale when faced with a genuine problem.  Right now,
I’d have given anything to be stuck behind a lane hogger with squidgy dog poop
on my shoe.

Laura
blew her nose again. 

I
withdrew my hand from her back.  “Laura, this has worked in our favour.”

She
rubbed her eyes and stared at me.  “Did you bang your head on the way up?”

“How
many people know you, Daryl, our email addresses
and
Paul’s private
mobile number?”  I pointed my finger at the door.  “I hate to say it,
but the more I learn, the more I’m convinced that it is one of the people
downstairs.”

“But
they’re our closest friends.  Why would any of them put us through this?”

I
pointed at the carpet.  “Mark’s still downstairs, you know?”

“I
know.”

“Between
one of the girls and Mark, who would you accuse?”

She
bit her lip.  “Mark.”

“I
need to show you something.”  I pulled my mobile from my pocket and thrust
the photo of Mark hugging the sex doll towards her.

Laura’s
eyes, then mouth, sprung open, and then she froze.  She looked like she’d
swallowed electricity.

“I
think it’s time we showed him this,” I said, and grinned.

Laura
must have been too anaesthetized to fire questions at me. 

“Let’s
turn this on its head, Laura, and see how
he
likes having a deadline of
his own.”

Laura’s
eyebrows lifted and quivered.  “What?  Where did you—?” 

“But
this is it, Laura.  I know you’ve had a tough year, and I’m partly to
blame for that.  I’ll make one last attempt to help and then I’m
out.  I want
normal
problems again.”

“I’m
sorry, Chelsea.  I never wanted you to get dragged into this.” 

“So
anyway, what time are Paul and Mark leaving for the hotel?”

“In
an hour.”

“Okay. 
This is my idea.”  I leaned closer.  “Tell Mark you want thirty-five
grand back and the photos to keep quiet.  Say he’s got one hour to reply
or you’ll confess to Paul, shop Mark to the police and float the photos of him
groping his plastic girlfriend over the internet, and paste them up on every
street corner.”

Laura
blinked fast.  “You must have banged your head.  Are you crazy?”

“I’m
heading that way,” I muttered.  “We’ll work out the Daryl thing
later.  For now, convince Mark that you no longer care about the truth
coming out.  You’ve had enough.  He’s counting on your fear factor
here.  He knows you’ll do anything to hide the affair from Paul.”  I
rubbed my palms together.  “Let’s see how he likes a taste of his own
poison.”

A
crease formed between her eyebrows while, I assumed, she processed my
words.  Mark was blackmailing Laura, and now we were about to blackmail
him in return.  No wonder I had to shake a response from her.
 “Laura?”

“B,
but…” she stuttered, shrugging off my grip.  “What if your plan goes
horribly wrong, and Mark tells Paul about the affair early because we made him
angry?”

“Then
he’ll ruin his chances of getting more money from you, and lose all his
friends.  Which, I’m sure, he doesn’t want to do.” 

In
a weak voice, Laura said, “But what if we’ve got it all wrong and it’s not
Mark, not someone in the house?”

“Unless
it was you, someone stopped the clock in the hall at the exact time of your
wedding ceremony tomorrow.  That can’t be a coincidence, not after
everything that’s happened.” 

Laura
nodded, a hairline movement.  “Really?”

“He’s
toying with us.  And those red roses, well, Mark admitted to sending
them.”

“Hardly
original, but sweet, I guess.”

Bewildered,
I said, “Sweet?”

“Let
the flowers do the talking when he daren’t step up and...”  She paused and
shook herself.  “What the hell am I saying?  That is, if he wasn’t
stealing my inheritance and going all out to kibosh my wedding.” 

“So,
you mean sickly sweet?”

Laura
looked ready to cry again.  “I know I deserve to, but I can’t lose Paul,
Chelsea.”

“Lee’s
viewing surveillance discs as we speak, trying to spot who took that photo.”

“He
is?  Well, I won’t hold my breath.”

“Exactly. 
So we need to do this.”

Laura
pulled the mobile from her pocket, but hesitated.  “I’m just not sure.”

I
snatched it from her hand.  “Give it here.  I’ll do it.  Time’s
in short supply.”

In
a hurry, I typed:
‘I want money and those photos within one hour or I’ll
shop you to the police, stick this pic of you and your plastic girlfriend on
Facebook.  One hour, Mark.  Chelsea.’

I
sent the message and photo to both Mark’s personal mobile and the anonymous
number Laura received the demands from, edging my bets in the hope that Mark
would have at least one mobile switched on.