TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Suspense) (26 page)

“I’m thirsty.  Stay where you are.  I’ll make a drink.  Tea okay?”  She buried her anguish under an exaggerated merriment of words about tea flavours, then sat down.

My phone rang.  It was Officer Baines.  When I said his name to Laura, she dropped the carton of tea bags on the floor.  “Please don’t tell him anything,” she begged.

I answered the call. 

‘Lie,’
Laura mouthed.

Worried that he’d pick up on my lies, and feeling under pressure, I put on my most convincing voice.  It took a fair amount of persuasion, but under Laura’s watchful and unnerving eye, I managed to convince him that everything was fine and shift the blame onto my friends, claiming again that they’d been playing a prank on me. 

Having had the forensics team sweep my house, Officer Baines was less than impressed with my time wasting.

I hung up.  Satisfied that he believed me, I sighed, but felt incredibly guilty about lying through my teeth.  I didn’t like messing with the police.  I focused back on Laura, who managed half a smile in thanks.

I tried not to show it, but while watching her eat, I couldn’t shake the feeling of rage from inside.  Annoyed someone had stolen Laura’s special week, turned it into a memory we would rather trash than treasure, and transformed Laura into a bitch in the process, had me stabbing at the food myself.  Of course I felt dubious about Lee.  Laura seemed so utterly convinced of his guilt, and I couldn’t be sure whether I thought it wasn’t him, or just wanted to believe in that.  Could I really fall for a man so evil?  It just wasn’t possible.  I assumed people possessed some sort of sixth sense for things like this. 

While precious seconds ticked away, concern simmered low in my gut as I watched Laura tinker on the brink of insanity.  She straightened pictures that were perfectly aligned, and wiped down the countertop, despite it being shiny enough to show a reflection.  I continued to watch while she made a pot of tea with water that hadn’t boiled.  Finally, my head about to burst, I couldn’t hold my thoughts in any longer.  I spun her around to face me, took the cloth from her hand and chucked it into the sink. 

My words came out so fast, they practically hopped onto her lips.  “You’re not okay.  You’re losing it because you want to know who’s doing this as much as I do.”

“I’m not losing it, Chelsea.  I’m fine.”

“So why is your mobile phone in the fridge?  Explain that.”

She stared hard at the fridge door, hesitated, then jerked it open so cautiously that I half expected something to jump out and bash her over the head.  The mobile sat on the top shelf, cooling under the strip light.  Her shoulders rose before she turned to me. 

I steeled myself for her meltdown.  “Laura?”

She threw her head back, and to my astonishment she cracked up.  I would likely have heard her hearty-laugh from the driveway.  Contagious and unexpected, I was powerless to stop myself joining in.  It felt unbelievably good, like huge bubbles of cheer rising up from my belly and popping all over me. 

“So, what’s your next trick?” I giggled.

Clutching my stomach, I looked ahead and saw Laura bending over, hugging her belly, too.  Her eyes shone sprightly and alive.  In this moment, she looked freed of her troubles.

Then, everything changed.  Laura’s laughter dampening down brought my own laughter to a halt.  The hysterics were doomed from the start, and the cracks in Laura’s breezy attitude were widening into fault lines. 

I continued staring, until her posture wilted right in front of me.  Rushing over, I caught her by the elbows.  It was akin to someone having released the valve on an inflatable.  She just lost whatever had been keeping her going, and slumped to the floor. 

“Why would someone do this to me?” she cried.  “How can I enjoy my wedding after this?”

“Oh, Laura.”

I hated to see my best friend in such a broken state, but her emotions needed to surface.  I tucked locks of hair behind her ears and mopped her mascara tears with a tissue.  Her hair tumbled back when she buried her face in her hands. 

We heard a car roll up outside.

Laura pushed herself up off the floor.  “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”  She darted out of view, pounded upstairs and slammed a door above.  It was obvious she had referred to Paul, although he wasn’t due home until six. 

I hurried to the bottom of the stairs, listening to flushing water from above.  On hearing the front door rattle, I dashed up to the landing before it opened, taking the stairs two at a time.  Having located Laura in the main bathroom, I tapped on the door.

“I’m home, sweetheart,” Paul announced from downstairs.  “They let me finish early.  I’m officially work free, until after our honeymoon.”

“I don’t want Paul to think there’s anything wrong,” Laura whispered, sliding the bolt across to let me slink inside.  “He thinks the email thing’s all over.”

I perched on the edge of the bath.  “You’re overcompensating.  Anyway, he’ll just think you’re nervous about getting married.” 

Laura wiped her dirty tears with a damp flannel.  She forced herself to smile.  She’d been good at those artificial smiles, had me fooled all week.  She should have been an actress.

“Okay,” Laura said, her chest rising and falling noticeably with each breath.  “I feel better now I’ve let it out.  I’m sorry for the way I’ve been with you lately.  I’ve been so snappy, but I just can’t help it.  My head’s all over the place.  It feels like it’s gonna explode or something.”

I rubbed my rain-soaked hair with a bath towel.  “I understand.  Really I do.  I know the
old
Laura will return.  She has to, because I’m an inch away from throttling the new one.”

A little giggle slipped through her lips.  “What was I like?”

“You were great.  More like a sister.  No.  A twin.”

After checking she’d gained her composure, I dared to tell her my plans again while removing the last stains of smudged makeup from her cheeks. 

My voice came slow and composed.  “I’m going round to Lee’s.  Before you say anything, listen, and try not to snap.”  I pressed a finger to her lips.  “I just know it isn’t him.  I trusted you, so trust me on this.”

We shared a long glare.

“If it is Lee, and if he is using me to get to you, he won’t want to know me now he’s got the cash.  I wouldn’t want to hang around people I’d just blackmailed for fear of slipping up one day, would you?”

Her eyebrows shot up.  “Depends what he gets out of spending time with you.”

“Laura!”

“I can see you’re following your heart, not your head.”

“Huh!  And your heart didn’t come into it?”  I launched back.  “When you paid all that money to save your relationship?”

  “Whatever, Chelsea.  I can’t believe it.  Of all the men you could have fallen for and you end up...”  She waved me away.  “Just go to him.  Get out of here.  But you’d better be right.  If you’re not, your discovery could make things a whole lot worse.” 

 

CHAPTER 22

 

A
red Volvo pulled out of a parking slot opposite Lee’s silver Leon.  I pulled swiftly into its place.  On a mission, I dashed across the road and placed my palm flat on the bonnet of Lee’s car, hoping the metal would be cold.  It was.  Stone cold to the touch.  It occupied the same spot as it had last night.  Perhaps he hadn’t been out in his car since then. 

I made my way into Lee’s house.  Slamming his front door shut behind me, I stood in the hall and looked into the lounge.  The place was tidy, booby-trap free.  The only sounds came from the TV. 

From the sofa, Lee stared over his shoulder.  “What are
you
doing here?”

I looked down at the floor in the hall.  Two pairs of shoes sat in the shadow of the hanging coats. 

“Answer me.”  His voice grew harsher.  “I’ve had enough of your games.” 

I bent down to touch the shoes.  Lifting them up one by one, I rubbed my fingers along their soles.  They were as dry as the dust that now coated the tip of my fingers.  The coats, too.  If he’d been under that bridge to collect the money wearing these, they’d have been wet from the rain, surely?

This was enough evidence for me, but Laura’s accusations chanted in my mind like a brainwashing mantra. 

Lee stood.  “Chelsea!”  He paused, but I didn’t answer.  “Right, that’s it.  If you’re not going to talk, get the hell out of my house!”  He slumped onto the sofa again.

I stepped into the lounge and stood in front of him.  Although annoyed, he looked equally unthreatening and as inquisitive as a child.  He wore twisted-leg jeans and a black t-shirt.  The kind that exposed his toned arms, and reinforced the sickening feeling that, if Laura was wrong, I’d thrown this flat-out hot guy clean away. 

With his arms folded, he leaned to one side and continued watching TV. 

I reached out and rubbed strands of his hair between my fingers.  Dry.  “Look me in the eyes and tell me it isn’t you.”

Lee knocked my hand away.  “This is ridiculous.”  He looked angry and confused, but not a trace of guilt crossed his face.  “If you must stand there, then shift.  You’re blocking my view.”

“I need to hear you say it isn’t you.”

“I don’t have to say anything.  I want you to leave.  Why are you even here?”

“I need to know where you’ve been this morning.”

“Nowhere.  My parents just left, if you must know.  Came round for cake and coffee.  You probably passed them.”

“What car do they drive?”

“A Volvo.”

“Red?”

He nodded. 

I remembered hearing a female voice through the phone earlier, and taking the Volvo’s parking slot.  I glanced down at three used mugs and a half-eaten chocolate cake on the coffee table.  He was telling the truth. 

I gasped and stumbled, doubled over with guilt.  “I’m so sorry.”  My voice started tangling in my throat.  “It’s… I… please, Lee.  Things have happened that you don’t know about and…”

Lee avoided my eyes.  I received no more than a cranky grumble for my efforts.   

“Lee?  Will you look at me?”

After a long sigh, he moved his gaze from the TV to me.  “Get on with it.”  He still seemed angry, yet in his eyes I caught a glimmer of sadness.  Why hadn’t I
truly
believed and trusted him before now? 

“I wish I hadn’t listened to Laura.  She’s so convinced that it’s you.  But you’d have done the same, believe your best friend, wouldn’t you?”

He rolled his eyes.  “Sure, I’d have listened.  But I’d have come to my
own
conclusions.  Not follow her lead like some mindless lamb.”

“I understand you want to kick me out.  And I deserve it.”  I held a finger in the air.  “But just hear me out for one more minute and if you still want me to go…”  It hurt, but I managed to finish.  “I will leave, and won’t ever bother you again.”

He huffed, then glanced at the watch on his wrist. 

“I had to accuse and test you, for Laura.”  I took a deep breath, unsure I could win him over.  “I went along with her because her story made sense.  She says you’re lashing out at her through grief.  I came here to prove to her that you are innocent.” 

“Lashing out at Laura?  Why would I...”  He shook himself.  “Just get to the point.”

“I never truly believed you’re behind this.”

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