TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Suspense) (24 page)

Treating the day as though the exchange was still going ahead, I went upstairs to wash.  I wasn’t sure about what to wear for a money drop, but figured black casual clothes were a sensible choice. 

Hearing my phone ring propelled me back downstairs.  I grabbed my mobile off the dining table.  Lee’s name flashed across the screen.  A powerful throb inside my ribs snatched my breath away.  I bit my lip as the ringing continued.  Unsure of what to do, I cancelled the call. 

I pottered around my house, and eventually, Laura phoned.

“Christ, Chelsea!  He stills want the money.”

I gasped and lay my hand over my chest.  “So what are you going to do?”

“I’m already doing it.  I’m pulling up outside your house right now in a taxi.  Jump in.  We need to rush.”

I hung up and searched for my house keys. 

I didn’t phone Lee back, but if Laura was right, he’d be at the drop point anyway. 

After locking up, I jumped into the taxi and we sped off down the street. 

“I’d have done this alone, but I need your help.”  Laura squeezed my hand and her lips formed an optimistic curve.  “Sorry to spring this on you.  They haven’t given me much time.  I’d have driven, but couldn’t risk my car getting spotted.”

“I’m not happy about this,” I said.

After what seemed like forever, we left the crowd of traffic and arrived near a bridge on the outskirts of town.  The deserted, country lane ran parallel to the main road of traffic flowing beneath the bridge.  Under a canopy of clouds, the lane revealed no signs of activity other than us.  Laura paid the taxi driver, and then struggled to drag a large purple rucksack out of the footwell.  She plonked it on the ground.

The taxi drove off, leaving us standing alone in the rain which pecked at my head and shoulders.  Laura opened an umbrella, held it above us, and then passed me her mobile phone.  “I didn’t really want to talk about things in the taxi.”

I read the message:

‘Follow the instructions to lower the cash.  Pay me on time, or kiss your fiancé goodbye.’

“Oh, not good,” I mumbled, handing it back.

When she looked at the time on her mobile, her face drained of the optimism she displayed during the journey.  Frowning, she pointed to the ground.  “Help me carry this?” 

I slung my handbag over my shoulder.  Charged with purpose, we hoisted the rucksack, supporting it underneath. 

“This is heavy,” I said.

“Notes and coins as instructed.”

“Heck!  It feels like bricks,” I said, struggling to walk with the load.  “Why the purple bag?”

“Would you rather it was pink?”

“No, I mean—”  I slipped in the rain.

“It’s purple.  Purple, okay?  I didn’t have another one.”

“Where are we taking it?”

She signalled to the bridge.  “We have to go up there.”

We climbed some steps up the stone arch bridge.  Laura threw the umbrella up to the top and gripped the bag with both hands.  No longer a crisp figure beside me, Laura’s dainty form blurred under the cascade of rain. 

Once on the top step, we dropped the bag.  I leaned over the edge wall until my gaze hit the landscape below.  The road beneath, with cars speeding along, resembled a rip in the green landscape.  “Whoa!”  Head swirling, I pulled myself back up.

Laura surveyed the scene. 

“What now?  What about the video footage?”

“Over there,” she said, before running the length of the bridge. 

Rain trickled down my face, and my wet clothes were sticking to my skin.  I’d not brought a suitable coat, but checking the weather forecast hadn’t been a priority this morning.  I picked up Laura’s umbrella and held it above me.  I watched her grab hold of the end of a thick rope that was trailing over the wall at the opposite end of the bridge.  “Is someone coming to meet us for the exchange?” I shouted.

She lifted the end of the rope in the air.  “This is the exchange.  Come and look.” 

I hurried over. 

There was a metal clasp on our end of the rope.  The rope, fed through a hook at the top of the wall, trailed down the outer wall of the bridge. 

Laura leaned over the side.  “There’s a mobile phone dangling half way down this rope, Chelsea.  It must contain the footage of me and Daryl.”

I ditched the umbrella and leaned over the wall.  The rope snaked all the way down to the footpath at the side of the busy road below us.  “Well what are you waiting for?  Haul it up.”

We gripped the rope and pulled.  It moved no more than a foot.  Something was weighing it down.

“Let me look again.”  I leaned over and focused.  “It’s too far down to see.  Is that rocks at the bottom?  Sand bags holding it down?  I just don’t know.”

Laura fiddled with the metal clasp.  “So, we clip the money to this, and drop it over the bridge.  It’s a pulley system.  Counterbalance.”

Having studied the scene, I figured we weren’t alone.  I pointed down with my finger.  “Someone’s underneath… waiting to catch the money.”  My stomach clenched.  I swiped my hand across my wet face.  “Let’s attach something else and keep the cash.”

“Like what?”

I surveyed the bridge, looking for rocks, bricks...  I saw nothing.  Or perhaps someone had made sure we wouldn’t find anything.  “Is that definitely the phone containing the footage?”

“It has to be or there’s no point being here.”  She pulled out her mobile.  “I’ll dial the number and see if it rings, moves or something.”

With the belting noise from the traffic below and the pattering rain, it was impossible to hear a ring tone from the mobile which dangled on the rope.

“Let’s take out the money.”  I said.  “We could replace it with our shoes... your handbag.”

“It might stir up more trouble if we trick whoever’s down there.  More trouble is something I don’t want.  This is my decision.  My money.  I’m attaching
all
of it.”

Laura dashed away and dragged the bag to the rope.  She seemed lost in a private bubble of concentration.  Using her phone, she took a photo of the money, then zipped it up and hooked it to the end of the rope.  “Help me lift the bag, will you?” she asked.

Once the bag was balanced on the wall, a wave of panic took hold of me.  I gripped her arm.  “No.  Laura.  I can’t let you do this.  This is part of your inheritance.  You don’t even know for sure if the footage is on that phone.  It might be a trick, a copy, and then they’ll ask you for even more money.”

“What choice do I have, Chelsea?”

“You have choices, Laura.”

“I don’t
like
my choices.  I may be foolish.”  She paused while I gave her a sarcastic look.  “Okay, Chelsea.  I am foolish, but I’d rather pay than risk losing Paul.  We haven’t got long to decide.  They’ve given me an exact time to do this, or it’s over.”

Hard as it was to believe that she intended to drop thirty-five thousand pounds in cash, over a bridge, I knew there was no other way of keeping her secret – not in the short time we had before the wedding.  I was out of ideas.  The mobile was there, dangling a few storeys below.  What if it was the phone containing the footage, the only copy, and by doing this, the nightmare would end in seconds?

The wind, rain and traffic noise that surrounded us, made it hard for me to think straight.  I had goosebumps, my cheeks felt numb, and my wet hair was sticking to my neck, irritating me.

Laura glared at me, then at the bag.  The rain plastered her hair across her impossibly pale face, and desperation shone in her dark eyes.  It filled me with great sadness.

 I didn’t want her to drop the money, but what would happen if she didn’t?  A cancelled wedding would be bad enough if Paul found out the truth.  However, would events take a fatal turn if she refused to pay?  Not knowing the truth about Daryl’s death was a constant irritation like an itch between shoulder blades - a place I couldn’t reach to make it go away.  The thought of someone attacking her, killing her…

“I just don’t know, Laura.  This doesn’t feel right.”

“I need that phone.”  She pointed over the wall.  “There might even be something on it to give us a clue as to who’s doing this.  The only other option is to attach myself to the rope and jump.”

She lifted a knee toward the top of the wall.

I grabbed her arm and squeezed, digging my nails in.  “Jesus, Laura!  Are you insane?”

Noticing my reaction, she brought her foot back to ground level.  “Sorry, Chelsea,” she said, bringing her voice down, too.  “Stupid way to make a point.”

I wasn’t in the mood for sick jokes.  “Isn’t there enough to worry about without you threatening suicide?”

“You didn’t think I was seriously going to—”

I wiped my brow, lied and said, “Of course not.  But if you’d climbed on the wall you could have slipped.”  The idea didn’t seem so farfetched after everything I’d learned recently.  After all, Laura seemed willing to jump through fiery hoops for this faceless person, so why not add a bridge bungee to the list of exploits?

The whole scenario seemed so absurd that I wondered if I was still in bed, asleep.

“I’d rather drop the money than my best friend,” I said.  “Point taken.”

“Maybe I am losing my mind,” she muttered.  “But they won’t keep the phone dangling down there forever.”  She noted the time.  “One and a half minutes, Chelsea.  My only real option is to drop the cash, isn’t it?”

I nodded without thought, still a little shocked. 

I struggled to come up with an alternative way to get our hands on the phone, while at the same time wanting to slap her for that little frightener.  “One of us should run down there to catch whoever’s lurking under this bridge.”

Laura shook her head.  “By the time you’ve run down, they’ll be long gone.  Why do you think they planned it this way?  Or, if you do manage to see their face, they might attack you or something.”  Laura checked the time.  “I’ve got one minute.  I’m texting the picture proving the money’s in the bag, and in position, and then I’ll push it over.  If I don’t, they’ll leave and tell Paul about my affair.  I don’t want either of us to get hurt in the process.”   She fiddled with her mobile.

Laura, following the instructions like a lamb, annoyed me.  Tension loomed over us.  The rain pounded my face.  The chill hurt my hands.

After a heated moment of arguing, while stomping back and forth across the bridge, I pointed at the wall towards the bag of cash while screaming the words, “Your parents worked hard for—”  With my mouth gaping open, no more words came out. 

I was pointing at air.

Where the hell did the rucksack go?

I rushed to the wall screeching, “Where’s the money?  Where is it?”

Laura barrelled across and we leaned over the wall to look down at the road below.   My stomach pressed against the rough stone-capped wall.

The bag was almost at the bottom, plummeting at high speed.  The mobile came shooting up towards us on the lighter end of the rope.  The object once weighing it down stayed on the pavement. 

“Someone tugged the bag off the wall from below,” I shouted.

We positioned our hands, ready to grab the mobile before it smashed against the wall.  I stopped Laura from gripping the rope.  It would have ripped the flesh off her hands.

“Here it comes,” I yelled, as it shot up towards us.