TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Suspense) (10 page)

“Yes.  A top night.”  He stepped inside out of the rain and draped his jacket over his arm.  “Well, I can’t remember much towards the end.”

I laughed.  “Sore head?”

 “Listen.”  Paul’s narrowing blue eyes homed in on me.  “I want a
private
word away from Laura.”

Curiosity piqued, I motioned for Paul to follow me through to the kitchen.  “Sure.  About what?”  I flicked the kettle on, then grabbed two mugs and the coffee jar from the cupboard above.

“It’s about Mark.”

“Your best man?” I said, digging a spoon into the jar.  “Thirsty?”

Both his face and posture were unnerving in their stiffness. 
What’s bugging him?

“No, thanks,” Paul said.  “I’ll get to the point.  It may be my hangover talking, but, you don’t think I’ve got anything to worry about, do you?  It’s just, well, Mark seems to go all weird when I mention Laura’s name, lately.  And he stares at her.  A lot.  And winks.  I’m starting to think—”

“What?” I giggled, spilling coffee granules on the worktop.  “That they’re having an affair?”

“Well... yes.”

My voice rose to a squeak.  “Are you serious?”

Paul nodded.  “Laura’s not been herself, lately.  You must have noticed, too.  She’s been... distracted, irritated.  I can’t quite put my finger on it.  I’m worried about her.  All I know is, the pair of them have been acting strange for a while.  It got me thinking.”

“Trust me.”  I thought it best not to laugh again.  “You’ve got nothing to worry about on that score.  Yes, I agree Mark’s got a
thing
for Laura, but it’s harmless.  As for Laura, she doesn’t even
look
at other men.  She’s just upset about her parents not being able to see her wedding.”

“I know.  I wish I could wave a wand and bring them back.  It’s an awful thing to say, but I hoped you’d think it was something like that.”  He clamped a hand on the edge of the worktop and stared into my eyes.

“Mind you,” he said.  “I expect you’d cover up for her.  Best friends ‘n’ all.”

Digging my teeth into my bottom lip, I continued studying Paul.  “Why are you asking me this if you think I’ll cover for her?”  I paused, confused.  “Anyway, you’ve got nothing to worry about.  I swear on my life.  If anyone else likes her, then they’ve left it too late.  She said as much this morn...”  I stopped myself, didn’t want to mention the red roses from her secret admirer.  Could they have been from Mark?  “She’s marrying you.  She loves you.  So, chill out, will you?”

Paul’s expression began to brighten.  The stress in his eyes dissolved.  “Sorry.  It was unfair of me to put you on the spot.”

I followed Paul to the front door.  “Go home and give Laura a big kiss.” 

“I intend to.”

I waved him off to his car, wondering why Paul had risked Laura finding out that he was suspicious by talking to me.  Poor bloke.  To risk that, he must have been pretty distraught about the thought of Laura canoodling with Mark.  Maybe last night’s alcohol had Mark saying things he shouldn’t.  I wished I’d been the bar maid so I could have listened.  I laughed then blushed, imagining myself dressed up in a naughty French maid outfit, something fit for a stag meeting. 

Before I could turn to go back in my house, a chirpy voice called out, “Hey!”

I looked right and spotted Lee jogging along the pavement in the rain. 
Perfect timing! 
The nearer he got, the more my insides felt like they were bouncing along with him.  “Hey, stranger!  Where did you disappear to last night?”  I grabbed the flaps of his open jacket and pulled him through the front door.  My delight at seeing him hit me hard. 

“I went through my brother’s belongings again.  I thought I told you?”  He pulled away and smiled.  “Who was at the door?”

“Paul.  Laura’s fiancé.”

Lee pursed his lips, and then poked his head out into the street.

“Shut the door and come inside.”  I guided Lee through to the dining room, and just stood, overjoyed to have someone in my corner for the next dreaded email. 

“You can let go of my hand now, Chelsea,” he said, failing to wriggle out of his coat using one arm.

He draped his coat over the radiator.  “I came back late last night, but you didn’t answer the door.”

I threw him a towel.  “I went to Laura’s.”

He ruffled his wet hair.  “Anyway, we’ve got our work cut out for us today, trying to figure out this mess.”

Finally, I pulled up my email account.  “No new messages yet.  Did you discover anything last night?”

He twisted his lips in disappointment.  “No diary, no notes.  I went through all Daryl’s cupboards and even rooted in the bins.  Nothing but standard bills, application forms for credit cards and loans.  Junk.  I just don’t know what I’m looking for.” 

I crossed the room toward the kitchen.  “What about photos?”

“Well, his computer was smashed in, even the hard drive, so dead end there.  Nothing struck me as strange on his camera.”

“What about his girlfriend?”  I grabbed a carton of milk, then glanced at Lee while closing the fridge door.  “Didn’t your friend ‘Phillip’ say that Daryl had been seeing someone?”

Lee nodded, sat on the sofa and flattened his ruffled hair.  “I never met her.  It seems that no one did, which is strange.  Either she’s an illegal, got two heads or she’s married.”

I tried not to laugh.

“Anyway, then I checked his mobile.  There weren’t many text messages.  I guess he deleted them.”

I stirred the coffees.  “Do you think he has this person’s number in his phone?  How creepy would that be?”

“His contact list reads like a business pages of plumbers, electricians...  I presumed a lot of the phone numbers were clients, listed by profession so he’d know who was who.”

I carried the drinks into the dining room and lowered myself onto the sofa. 

“Thanks, Chelsea.”  Lee took the mug from my hand, then changed seats and sat at the computer.  “Still nothing yet,” he said, swivelling in the chair like a child.  “Did you come up with any leads?”

“Diddly-squat.  My friends and I—”  I paused, sipping from my ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time,’ mug.

“Did they have any suggestions about who you could’ve upset?”

“I didn’t mention it last night.  Laura’s got enough on her plate.  Besides, they saw the email the other day and said it wasn’t worth worrying about.”

Lee tilted his head to one side.  “Really?”  He put his mug down and tapped a pen on the desk.

“Well, actually, Emma asked me about it last night.  She thinks it’s a virus.  My best friend… well, Laura didn’t seem concerned.  She thought it rude to call me a ‘slag’ in the email, but that’s about all she said on the subject, apart from warning me about viruses.”

Slowly our eyes connected.  Like smoke drifting away after a fire, my cloudy mind started to clear. 

Lee scratched his chin.  “I thought Laura was your best friend.”

“She is.”

“So she must have questioned you, right?  Had an opinion as to what it’s about.”

A bad sensation stirred within me.  “Not really.”

“How could she not be concerned?”

I jerked forward.  He’d said my exact thought.

Was Laura just uninterested, or avoiding the subject?  My head scribbled circles.  Then I drifted back to the hen night.

Laura said she hadn’t overheard my conversation with Lee in the bar.  Why?  She’d been standing right next to me.  She must have overheard some of it.  Then, I remembered her not wanting me to meet Lee last night, and questioning me about him over the phone.  Why didn’t she want me to be with Lee?  Her strange behaviour gnawed away inside me.  My stomach twisted, feeling like a tight knot had formed in its centre. 

“She probably is a
little
worried for you, right?”

I thought about how Paul had described Laura earlier.  “No.  More like... irritated.”  I felt my scalp tingle.  “And she has been snappy and distant lately.”

“Hey, look out.”  Suddenly, Lee dashed across the room.  He grabbed the mug from my hand just as it tilted.  Coffee spilled over the rim and splashed onto the laminate floor. 

I stood.  Lost in thought, I left Lee to wipe the spillage while I paced the room numerous times.  “Why would she be irritated?”  Every step pressed down faster, fiercer, until my head was filled to the brim with accusations.  Paul was right.  Laura’s recent behaviour was so out of character; the ever-rising wall between us, her secrecy, the outburst about the parcel she collected in town, wedding nerves distracting me from... lies? 

I whirled around, faced the opposing wall and perched my hands on my hips.

“Chelsea?”

I ignored Lee.

Maybe my best friend wasn’t actually as sweet as her voice suggested.  Out of everyone I knew, Laura had the biggest reason of all to hate me.

CHAPTER 9

I
drove my Corsa through the rain-soaked streets, anxious to beat the traffic lights at every junction.  Nervous energy made my body jitter and the heavy rain heightened my agitated mood.  “I haven’t got a clue where Daryl fits in.  All I know is, Laura has one mother of a reason to hate me.” 

“What reason?  And keep calm,” Lee said.

“Calm?  My best friend could be involved in a plot against me!”  I slapped the steering wheel.  “And according to your theory, a plot to kill me!  Ugh!  I have to talk to her, right now.”

“Are you going to tell me what this thing with Laura is about?”

I shifted my weight as I turned the steering wheel, skidded round the next corner, right onto Laura’s street. 

“Wish I’d brought a crash helmet.”  Lee gripped the dashboard.  “I’ll drive next time, or they’ll be a few less cats in the neighbourhood.”

“Suit yourself.”

I parked behind Laura’s BMW and darted to her house.

I pressed the bell several times and banged the door with my fist. 

Lee stood behind me under the porch.  His breath blew warm on my neck.  “The door’s not to blame,” he said, as I continued pounding on it, floating on the edge of upset and anger. 

The handle clicked and the door swung inwards. 

I stared at Laura, my knocking fist still in the air.

Laura’s dazzling smile drooped.  “What’s wrong?”

I stepped over the threshold.  “Please, tell me you’ve got nothing to do with this.” 

“With what?”  She cast a nervous glance over my shoulder, perhaps looking at Lee, or perhaps wishing she hadn’t opened the door.

“The email.”  I walked towards her.

“Oh, not that again.”  She backed up.  The wall brought her to a halt and she had nowhere to go.  “What’s this about, Chelsea?”

“Did you send, or know who’s sending me the emails?”  I stared straight into her eyes, not even blinking. 

“No.  Of course not.”  Her answer, spoken without hesitation, sounded genuine.  However, her silver, slit eyes contradicted the words.  She gulped.  “Have you received
another
one?”

I brought my face closer.  “Are you punishing me for last year?  Is that what this is about?”