WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (5 page)

“Okay. 
So someone wants to scare me.  Well done.  They’ve succeeded. 
But, you can’t be sure this is linked to—”

Lee
drew a frustrated breath.  “I’m sure.  I’m sorry, Chelsea. 
There’s no way of breaking this delicately.  I think someone’s out to kill
you.”

No. 
The whole thing seemed crazy and a big part of me refused to believe it. 
I looked sideways at him.  “You have it wrong.  I didn’t even know
your brother.  Someone’s trying to scare me, yes, but kill me?”

Lee
set his hand on my shoulder and unnerved me with his serious glare. 
“Yes.  Kill you.”

My
heart banged faster. 

“Daryl
was first.  You’re number two.  It’s all here in the emails.”

“I
need a minute,” I said, my mind moving in circles.  I’d expected my week
off work to be for helping Laura organise her wedding, not for going on the
run.

Lee
spun my seat until we came face to face. 

I
saw enough to notice his pained expression.  I’d seen sufficient faces of
customers leaving the dental surgery to recognise pain; extraction,
fillings.  But this look struck me as different.  It was deep, an
inner pain. 

Only
one question stood between knowing and not knowing how seriously to take the
threat.

My
cheeks must have been glowing scarlet by now.  “Phillip told me Daryl’s
death was an accident, but that you’re not convinced.  Did your brother
jump, slip or what?” 

“The
coroner ruled it as an accident.”

“But
you don’t believe that, do you?  You wouldn’t be here if you did.”  I
took his silence as a bad sign and my heart twitched in my chest.  “Why
don’t you believe the ruling?” 

His
lips didn’t part.

“I
need to know.”  My voice sounded cracked at the guilt of hoping his
brother had committed suicide or slipped.  If so, the email meant
nothing.  I tugged his sleeve.  “What I need to know is, is this
email an empty threat?  You brought me here.  Don’t hold back on me
now.” 

Leaning
in closer, wanting to untangle Lee’s locked-in thoughts, my gaze studied his
face.  He stonewalled me during an agonizing silence, which suggested he
gave his answer serious thought. 

Lee
steepled his fingers, then stared point blank into my eyes.  “He seemed
worried about something, yes.  But not depressed.  When something
troubled him he usually went for a drive, not hike up a goddamn hill. 
Evidence may suggest an accident, but I knew my brother.”

“So,
you think—”

“Not
think.”  Lee pointed at the computer screen.  “Daryl was number
one.  I’m now convinced that whoever sent him
this
email, lured him
and pushed him to his death.”

For
a second, I struggled to breathe.  Shit. 
I’m number two. 
This is for real. 

Lee
spoke again, but I didn’t listen.  The shock wouldn’t let me
concentrate. 

I
wanted to get up and run out of the café, but the words ’pushed him’ seemed to
nail me to the chair. 

“Chelsea,”
he said loudly, snapping me back to reality.

My
gaze attached to his, silently requesting another explanation.  Somewhere
below awareness, I knew I’d expected chilling news.  But not to this
extent.  “Tell me this is a wind up so I can go back to my friend, play
the doting bridesmaid, and forget the whole thing.”  In my head, I began
conjuring up alternative meanings.

“I’m
sorry.  I’d love to tell you that email is an advertisement, a software
scam or event reminder, something to be ignored.”  Lee gripped my
arms.  His biting tone to my ears was as jolting as ice water to naked
skin.  ”But, it’s not.  Chelsea, I don’t understand why, but whoever
killed my brother, is now after you.”

I
t crossed my
mind that I either had the starring role in a movie with no script, or had
suffered amnesia and woken up to find my life in chaos.

I
sat hunched in the internet café opposite Lee, shaking, and feeling so low I
may as well have been on my ass on the floor.  Discovering the email
represented a death threat sucked all energy from me.

“Don’t
look defeated.”  Lee touched my face gingerly with the back of his
hand.  “We’ve got a head start on this.  We know what the email
means.  It’s a warning.  We ought to put our heads together. 
Who’s got a grudge against you?  Who have you pissed off lately?”

Needing
comfort, I leaned my cheek against his hand then stared down in
disbelief. 
This can’t be happening.  A death threat? 
Even
though it had stopped, the tick, tick, tick of the countdown timer grew louder
in my head.
 
My shoes hammered the floor, my whole body quivered
with agitation.  I jumped up and ran for the exit.  I slapped my palm
on the door, pushed it open and hightailed down the street.

Footsteps
pounded the pavement after me.  “Wait up, Chelsea.”

I
ran flat out past shops, cars, and gawping pedestrians, tears on my cheeks,
hair flapping in the wind.  My breathing quickened in time with my raging
heartbeat. 

“Stop!”
Lee shouted.  “Let’s talk about this.  Look, there’s a chance we
could stop the timer, Chelsea.”

I
slowed to a jog, surprised he’d chased me this far.

“Maybe
it’s some type of sick game.  And Daryl... well, maybe he lost.”

“Stop
it how?  Sick game for what?”  I glanced over my shoulder at him,
then slammed arm first into a lamppost.  “Ouch!  Goddammit!”  I
dropped to my knees on the concrete pavement and clutched my shoulder which
hurt.

Lee
came close enough that I could smell his aftershave.  “Are you okay?”

Gritting
my teeth and rubbing my shoulder, I looked up, undecided on whether my head was
spinning or the street was a merry-go-round.  “What do I do?  How do
I stop this?”

Lee
slid his hands around my waist from behind.  He helped me to my feet and
spun me round to face him, as though I were on rollerblades.  He dusted
dirt off my jeans.  “I’ll help you.  We’ll wait for the next
email.  Let’s face it, you’re bound to get sent more.  There might be
another puzzle.” 

This
wasn’t the answer I’d hoped for.  I pushed his hands away.  “I don’t
care about dirty knees.  Is that the best solution you’ve got?”  The
brief trace of optimism left me and instead of feeling lifted, I felt like I
was on the floor again.  I back-kicked the lamppost, fumbled and dithered,
trying to think of a better solution. 

Lee
gripped my shoulders, shook me, then held me still.  “We need to work out
who’s got a grudge against you,
before
the clock reaches zero.  Are
you listening?” 

I
wasn’t equipped to handle a death threat.  Who is?  Nevertheless,
options crisscrossed in my mind as though it functioned all on its own.  I
nodded.  Lee was right.  What else could I do?  Wait for the
next email.  In the meantime, instead of running off in a panic, I had to
investigate who was after me, because clearly somebody was.

I
patted Lee’s arm.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to shout at you.”

“I
understand.  It’s a big shock.”

A
young couple walked past us and stared.

“Let’s
go to my place and think this through.”  I took several deep breaths then
made straight for the car park and drove home in my white Corsa.  Lee
followed in his silver Leon. 

During
the quiet, thought-provoking journey, my feelings began changing.  They
turned a half circle.  Strangely, I wanted the next email to come without
delay.  The messages were a warning, and at this point, my only
lead.  Without them, I’d have been blind to my future.

I
peeked into the rearview mirror.  Lee was driving close behind me.  I
indicated to turn left and steered into my street.

After
parking, I stepped out onto the pavement and pointed at my front door. 
“This is my house.” 

I
stepped inside, flicked on the hall light, then moved into the dining room that
housed my computer.  I felt as though I had a red target with the number
two in its centre sprayed on my chest.  But, once Lee shut the front door
I felt safer indoors, as though the walls of my old terraced house could
protect me from the horrors I faced, well, at least from being seen. 
Everything about my home was as expected, barring one thing.  The table
lamp was aglow yet again.  “Damn dodgy switch,” I muttered, clicking it on
and off several times. 

Lee
lingered in the doorway. 

I
crossed to him, grabbed his hand and drew him inside.  “Come in.  Sit
down.  Make yourself at home.  Sorry about the mess.  Not had
much of a chance to clean up recently.”

“Looks
fine to me.  Kind of homely.”

Yeah,
sure,
it used to be,
I thought, eyeing piles of old letters balanced atop the
fireplace, and a can of lemonade and stray papers littering the floor by my desk. 
I ignored the mess and glanced at Lee.  A stranger standing in my home.

Unsure
of my next move, but pleased to have someone to share my worries, I wondered
why he’d even care about my safety.  A few days ago he didn’t even realise
I existed.  How crazy my life had become since the weekend.

“I
don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but why do you want to help a total
stranger?”  I dropped my handbag on the floor next to my tall vase of
twigs wrapped with fairy lights, by the entrance to my kitchen.  “You
could just leave.  I wouldn’t blame you.”

“I
didn’t get the chance to help my brother.  Maybe things would be different
if I had.  I have to learn to live with that.  But I’m going to help
you.”  His voice was slow, but still had punch.  By the way his
nostrils flared, I knew he meant it.

“Don’t
beat yourself up about it.”  I knew firsthand how guilt could eat people
up inside, because of the death of Laura’s parents.  “I understand. 
It’s tough having the nagging ‘what ifs.’” 

Lee
trudged over to the window and stared outside.  “I have to find out
why
Daryl died.  I won’t rest until I get answers.”

My
mouth felt and tasted like dry sawdust.  I entered the kitchen, flicked
the kettle on then returned.  “Sorry, Lee.  Do you mind if I make a
quick phone call?”  I presumed Laura would be upset that I’d hung up on
her earlier. 

Still
staring out at my back garden, he said, “Go ahead.”

I
fished my mobile out of my bag.

“Hi,
Chelsea,” Laura said in a warm, relieved voice.  “I wondered how long it
would be until you phoned.”

“I
won’t be returning to your place tonight.  I’m really sorry, but
something’s cropped up.”  I couldn’t worry Laura.  She didn’t deserve
any more problems.

“What’s
cropped up?”

“I’ll
tell you another time.  But please, don’t worry.  What did you phone
me for earlier?”

“What
did that guy say to you?”

I
tried to sound normal, calm.  “Oh, something about his brother.”

“What
about him?”

“Later,”
I said, looking at the back of Lee’s head.  “I just want to say I’m sorry,
and I’m all right.”

“What
did he ask you, Chelsea?”  The warm edge to Laura’s voice
disappeared.  “What’s with all the secrecy?”

“We’ll
chat, tomorrow.  But I have to hang up now.  I’m sorry for letting
you down yet again.” 

“It
is
becoming a habit of yours lately,” she muttered.  “Are you still
with... him?”

Given
that I was meant to be keeping Laura company, she didn’t seem too
disappointed.  She sounded more interested in Lee. 

“Yeah. 
He’s here.”  I hoped my tone told her not to ask any more. 
“Everything’s fine, I swear.  We’ll catch up tomorrow.”

I
ended the call and couldn’t help thinking that the main screw up in my life
involved Laura.  The car crash. 

“I
could murder a cuppa,” Lee said, bringing me out of my private thoughts.

“Daryl
wasn’t involved in any car accidents last year, was he?”  I moved to
switch the computer on while the kettle reached the boil.  The sounds of
the house coming to life broke the gloom brought back from the cafe. 

“No. 
Why?  Have you come up with something?”

I
shook my head.  “Not now you’ve said that.” 

Lee
sat on the sofa while I logged into my emails.  The inbox popped up. 
The window to the mystery.

“Nothing
yet,” I said.

All
we could do was mark time.  And chances were, it’d be a difficult wait
finding out how long I had left on the countdown timer. 
Find out how
I’m linked to Daryl,
I instructed myself.  I stood in the doorway to
the kitchen and asked Lee to tell me about his brother.

He
took a seat on the sofa.  “Daryl was a psychiatrist, very intelligent, but
unfortunately quite a private guy.”  He lifted his gaze to the
ceiling.  “A great brother though.  I can’t begin to tell you how
much I miss him.”

“I’m
sure you do.  Tell me more.  What was he like?”

“Motivated. 
Happy.  Until the last week or so.”  Lee rounded forward on the sofa
and rested his forearms on his knees.  “My parents prefer to accept the
coroner’s ruling that his death was accidental.  I guess anything else is
too much to bear.  But they’re blind, just like those useless cops. 
Accident my ass!  I don’t accept that explanation.  Especially now.”

“So
who would want to—” I gulped, struggling to get the word out.  “
Kill
him?”

Lee
shrugged.  “Beats me.”

“I
don’t even know what Daryl looks like.  I wouldn’t recognise him if he was
standing in front of me, right now.” 

Lee
made a throaty sound.  “Well, that’s not going to happen.”

I
bit my lip.  “Sorry.  Thoughtless.  Do you have a picture of
him?”

Lee
produced a small square of paper from his wallet, stood up and passed it to
me. 

Pinching
the edge, I stared long and hard at the matchbox-sized snapshot of his brother
sitting behind a dark wooden desk. 

Lee
leaned closer, his breath brushed against my hair.  “Does he look
familiar?  I know it’s not a brilliant photo, but it fits in my wallet.”

“Well…
no.”  I shook my head.  “He looks like a hundred other dark-haired
guys.  I’ve certainly not dated him, and he’s not a patient at our dental
practice.”

“Well,
something links the two of you together.”

I
handed him the photo, and he slid it back in his wallet.

“It’s
not the clearest of photos.”  I stood still, eyes locked on Lee’s,
wondering if we’d ever find a connection.  The kettle bubbled and I turned
away.  “Why bother sending a puzzle in the email?” I muttered, walking the
few strides into the kitchen to grab some mugs.  “And if it’s a deadline,
then why make it so difficult to understand the countdown timer?  A
digital clock would be easier.”

“Yes. 
True.”

I
stirred a couple of coffees. 

With
fluent efficiency every ten minutes, we took turns moving the mouse to refresh
the inbox page. 

It
proved hard to think with a woolly head.  I slumped onto the sofa while
Lee remained at the desk.  I would have preferred to have a few teeth
pulled out without anaesthetic than deal with this nightmare situation.

“I
need to know your secrets, Chelsea.  Think about something you’ve done,
even if you don’t think it’s important.  It just might be.”

In
the quiet house his voice rippled outwards.  It gave his words more impact
and got me deep in thought.  From time to time I expressed my opinion in
online forums.  I drank my fair share of booze on the weekends and had the
odd drunken row.  Maybe I’d left rude comments on Facebook and not
realised I’d offended someone.  “Was your brother a member of
Facebook?  Friends Reunited?  Twitter?”

Lee
shook his head then stared at me for a moment or two, stared as if he was
unaware.  The intense gaze creeped me out.  I wondered if he was
thinking about his brother, perhaps confusing saving my life with his.

He
swivelled in the chair and looked away.  “Unless it’s random, you’ve both
upset the same person.  I need to go through Daryl’s belongings
again.  I’ve done nothing but search his home since Phillip gave me your
note.  There must be something I’ve missed.  But it would help if I
knew what to look for.”  He glanced over his shoulder.  “That’s where
you come in.”

“What
did he do outside of work?”

“Daryl
liked football matches, enjoyed going out to bars, although he wasn’t a big
drinker.  He preferred dark-haired women to blondes, girls with their
heads screwed on the right way, not scatty ones or lazy layabouts.”