TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Thriller)

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TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Thriller) Page 9

by H Elliston


  “Take a different route,” I said.

  “I already am.” Lee’s answer came short and fast. His face was a tight mask of concentration.

  I searched out of every window, clocking the cars, checking for a tail. My eyes were so full of tears it was like looking through warped glass.

  “Almost there,” Lee said. “Hold on a little longer.”

  I wiped my eyes and nodded to myself, certain I hadn’t seen the same car twice in the last five minutes. Only then did I take my eyes off the streets to wriggle into my jeans and slip my shoes on. I pulled my phone out of my bag. “Damn it!” My mobile was dead altogether now. I had to phone the police, and warn Laura.

  Lee slowed down and pointed at a white door with a little window, but didn’t stop outside. “We’ll park further up the street, just to be sure.” He glanced into the rear-view mirror.

  “I don’t think anyone followed us,” I said. “I’ve been watching.”

  Lee’s street was easily busier than mine. Two-story narrow houses stood together like an over-stuffed bookcase. Cars were parked bumper to bumper with only a few empty gaps between them. Anyone could have been spying on me. It was hard to know who to look at.

  As the car slowed, my nerves kick-started again. Although I wasn’t cold, my body shivered nearly enough for my teeth to chatter. I didn’t need anyone to tell me it was scary. If someone knew I’d gone to Lee’s then I wasn’t safe here either.

  Lee pulled to the curb. “Let’s go inside.”

  The thought in my head that someone was watching me refused to budge, and therefore, so did my legs. Someone was threatening to kill me. I had every right to be on edge. Part of me felt like running to the hills and hiding out. But if I did, how would I ever know it was over and safe to come home? This maniac might just await my return.

  A line of traffic zipped past. An elderly lady emerged from a house a few doors behind, strolling along as if time didn’t exist in her world. I wished it didn’t in mine.

  I stared into the wing mirror, waiting for her to pass so I wouldn’t hit her with the car door.

  Lee waited with me, walked his fingers along the dash. “If I could get them to threaten me instead, Chelsea, I would.”

  Shocked by his statement, I looked him in the eye. “That’s so, so… nice.”

  “It’s not,” he said, and shook his head. “I just can’t bear to lose someone else. I’m being selfish.” He opened the car door and stepped onto the street.

  Staring at his butt, I wondered if there was another meaning behind his words. On top of being nervous, I now felt confused.

  CHAPTER 13

  When we reached Lee’s front door, he unlocked it and hurried me into the lounge.

  I pulled the charger out of my bag. “I have to warn Laura. Where’s your plug socket?”

  Lee pointed past the end of the sofa.

  I crossed the room and rammed the plug into the holes, connected my mobile and waited. I glanced at the curtains. Wanting to draw them closed, I walked across the room and tugged at the fabric, but Lee set his hand on my arm.

  “No,” he said. “We need to see if anyone is watching. Just try to stay away from the windows. You’re a walking advert.”

  I thought about it, then stepped away and nodded.

  He lifted an eyebrow and squinted at the ceiling, suggesting he’d had a thought. He didn’t share it.

  More concerned with contacting Laura in case someone was about to break into her house, I turned my attention back to my mobile. “I should have known someone had been coming in and out of my house when my photos were in the wrong place and the table lamp kept switching on,” I muttered, waiting for my mobile to come to life.

  “When did you last use your bathroom?” Lee asked.

  “Yesterday. Someone must have broken in last night while I was at Laura’s.”

  The screen lit up, and I pressed the call button.

  Laura answered on the third ring. “Hey, Chelsea.”

  “Someone’s been in my house, Laura.”

  “Eh?”

  “It’s a mess. There’s swearing... writing... ‘you’ll pay, slag.’ And my own goddamn steak—”

  “Jesus, Chelsea. You’re kidding!”

  “No. Quiet a second. I need to—“

  “Where are you?”

  “At Lee’s. Just listen, will you? Look, I spoke to the police earlier, but we’ve got less time left than we thought. My timer runs out before yours. Tomorrow night.”

  “Really? Oh, Christ! So who was in your house? When?”

  Panic shrivelled my voice. I needed Laura to be safe. “I want you to go to Emma’s or your aunt’s. Anywhere. Just go! This is not a prank, not a virus. It’s definitely a death threat.”

  “I’m fine here,” she said, bringing her voice down. “Paul’s home. I’ll ask him not to go to the gym. We’ll lock up and put the alarm on. It’s like Fort Knox here, remember? You sound terrible. Come to my place.”

  “No. It’s too dangerous if we’re together. Makes it easy for them to get to both of us. Listen, do you still have my house key, Laura?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Hold on.” There was a pause. “Yes. It’s here on the same keyring as mine. Did someone use a key to get in?”

  “I think so. I’ll phone you later. I need to get in touch with Officer Baines. Stay alert.” I hung up.

  “Is she safe?” Lee asked.

  CHAPTER 14

  After the police collected my house key to give to the forensics team, I stomped back into Lee’s kitchen.

  He pulled me away from the worktop before my fist slammed down on the crockery stack. I found myself draped over him. His strong arms felt like an armour casing around me, keeping me safe. I hadn’t realised how much I needed someone’s touch, until now. His warmth took the edge off the tension like a shot of tequila.

  A moment later, he spun me around and rubbed my shoulders through the dressing gown. I closed my eyes and pictured myself weighted down in a rising tide - the water swelling up to my chin while I waited helplessly for the inevitable.

  Exactly how bad were things going to get?

  Lee let go of me and started making tea. Steam rose in grey twists from the spout of the kettle.

  “The British way of solving problems,” I muttered. “Let’s hope it works, though I could do with something stronger.”

  Once in the lounge, Lee ordered takeout and handed me one of his t-shirts and a blanket so I wouldn’t have to stay in my dressing gown. I draped the t-shirt over the back of the sofa, but wrapped myself in the blanket like a sick person. “Thanks,” I whispered. “You’re being too good to me.”

  He sat beside me. “You need to warm up before you catch your dea—”

  I pretended not to hear his remark.

  “Sorry.” He switched the TV on. “Let’s have some time out.”

  I curled my legs underneath me on the sofa and stared around his room. The black curtains matched the plump leather sofas which had silver over-stuffed cushions on each end. I stroked the soft fabric. “It’s like sitting inside the pages of a style magazine. Puts my house to shame.”

  “I like your place. It’s cosy.”

  “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘battered.’” I pointed at the large canvas above his fireplace. “That would suit my house. I bet I could kick tins of paint over a canvas and sign the corner.”

  Lee laughed.

  Once this horrid week was out of the way, and as soon as Laura had become Mrs Johnson, I’d get my own life back in order and spruce up my home.

  My gaze lowered to a group of photo frames resting on the hearth. The largest stood proudly on the left in a shiny, black frame. Not even a speckle of dust tainted its surface.

  I pointed. “Is that your brother?”

  He blew into his mug. “Yes.”

  I couldn’t help taking a second look. The photo was much clearer than the snapshot from his wallet. Daryl ha
d very short, dark hair, a sharp jaw-line and deep-set eyes. His face fascinated me because I assumed I should know him. “He’s handsome. I can think of three friends who would have gone for him.”

  Lee shrugged. “I never looked at him like that. But I guess you could say he was nice looking.”

  I glanced between the photo and Lee. “I can see the resemblance.”

  His lips twitched, and then he smiled.

  I leaned over the coffee table and thumbed through the perfectly stacked men’s health and style magazines and cinema booklets while I finished my drink. A movie buff. Great. “Where do you work, Lee? We’re spending all this time together, yet I hardly know a thing about you.”

  “At Jackson’s Printers. I’m one of the managers. I deal with the clients, polish designs on the computer, that sort of thing.”

  “Do you like your job?”

  “Yes. It can be a challenge at times, but I like that. Where did you say you work?”

  “I’m a dental receptionist.”

  “I remember now.” He glanced over. “That explains your thousand watt smile. You should smile more often.”

  “Thanks. I’ll remember that.” If I live long enough. “And you enjoy the cinema?”

  “Sure do. Thrillers, horror, sci-fi...”

  “Nachos or popcorn?”

  “Both. But not together.”

  “Steak or fish ‘n’ chips?” I said, trying to further lighten the atmosphere.

  He winked. “Fish on Fridays.”

  I settled back into the sofa, but my fear never lay far away and I couldn’t relax. Unable to stop twitching my toes, I nipped upstairs to freshen up and hoped it possible to wash my troubles down the sink.

  I flushed the toilet, then washed my hands and splashed my neck with cold water while staring at my tired reflection in the mirror. I felt useless. I couldn’t just sit and do nothing. I slapped the edge of the sink, slipped Lee’s t-shirt on then darted down the stairs on a mission, just when he hung up the phone.

  “The police phoned. I tried shouting to let you know. And the takeout arrived, too.”

  Lee had poured glasses of white wine for us, and tipped the Chinese takeout onto plates.

  I perched on the arm of the sofa. “What did the cops say? Should I call them back?”

  “They’ve yet to come up with anything concrete, and there haven’t been any similar reports of these emails. They say the Coroner’s report about Daryl’s death being accidental still stands. And Carl wasn’t one of his patients. The fact that you replied to the email helped. It’s registered to a fifty-three year old local man who died months ago. The emails were sent from various IP addresses. They’re monitoring activity on the account.”

  So, it was shaping up to be just me, Daryl and Laura. I had hoped someone else would know what this was all about. “I’m not sure if I feel better or worse for knowing that.”

  “They’re sending patrol cars to drive along the street outside both of our houses tomorrow night. That’s some comfort for you, I suppose.”

  I stuffed a few mouthfuls of noodles into my mouth then unzipped my handbag.

  “Not sitting down?” Lee asked.

  “I need to do... something. Need to find...” I grabbed the photo of Daryl from the fireplace and stuffed it into my bag.

  “What are you doing with that?”

  I slung the bag over my shoulder. “Your brother had a mystery girlfriend, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Maybe she knows how I’m linked to him.” I stalked toward the hall, then glanced over my shoulder. “Coming?”

  Lee grabbed his keys and followed me out. We climbed into his car and he started the engine. “Where to?”

  “A bar. Take me somewhere that Daryl used to hang out.”

  Lee pulled out of his parking slot and drove us to town. He parked on a side street, round the corner from a bar with a green frog logo. I’d been here numerous times myself, but under different circumstances. On entering, we began flashing Daryl’s photo to punters in the bar. After ten minutes, and no leads, we left and checked out the bar across the street.

  “This isn’t working,” I said. “Let’s split up. Maybe people will talk to us more if we’re not together. You try the girls, I’ll ask the men.”

  “Flirt for information?”

  “If that’s what it takes.” I flicked my hair over my shoulder and stepped to the entrance of the third bar. “I’ll keep the big photo of Daryl.”

  “I’ll use my wallet picture.”

  “Someone must know him, or this mystery girlfriend of his. They must have gone out on dates at some point.”

  I pushed the thick wooden door open and stepped inside, trying to stay positive. We split up. Lee walked over to a group of women at the seating area by the entrance. I worked my way into the thick of the bar where people mainly stood in groups or couples. I produced the framed photo of Daryl from my bag and thrust it in the face of everyone I walked past. “Do you know this man? Ever seen him in here with a woman?”

  I gained little more than head shakes and frowns from my questions, but did get offered drinks from several men whose stares I could feel running over my skin from behind.

  “Don’t walk off,” one man said. “Sit. Have a drink with us.”

  Barging my way to a table of men in the far corner, I bumped into someone who was trying to cross in front of me. A beer bottle slammed into my stomach.

  “I’m so sorry,” a female said.

  I stared up. It was my friend Jayne. “Oh, my god!” I hugged her.

  “Hey, Chelsea. I didn’t know you were coming out tonight. I’m just about to leave. Got work in the morning.”

  “I didn’t plan it. Spur of the moment thing.”

  Jayne looked down at the photo frame tucked under my arm. “What’s that?”

  I showed her the picture of Daryl. “I’m looking for a girl who used to date this guy.”

  “Why?” Jayne studied the photo, and her lips twisted to one side.

  “Long story.” I hugged her again then sidestepped her. “Can’t stop to chat. We’ll catch up soon.”

  She touched my arm. “That’s Daryl, right?”

  I stopped dead, twisted around. “You know him?”

  “Vaguely. He died recently, didn’t he?”

  I nodded.

  “He’s a friend of Phillip. That guy I set you up with on Sunday. Sorry to hear the date didn’t go too well.”

  I moved so close to Jayne that I stood on her toes. “Do you know who Daryl’s last girlfriend was?”

  Jayne dragged her shoe from under mine and swigged her drink. “I know who she could have been.”

  “Eh?”

  She raised her overly plucked eyebrows. “You.”

  I opened my mouth but couldn’t speak.

  “I tried to set Daryl up with you last month. He seemed interested... until I showed him your photo.”

  My mind began bonging like church bells were inside my head. “My photo? What are you talking about?”

  “The one on my mobile. I show it to all the men I set you up with.”

  I was taut, disturbed at having my picture flashed around town as though Jayne was pimping me out.

  “Don’t look so worried. It’s harmless.”

  “Harmless? I.. er...” I realised now how Phillip knew my face when I entered the bar on our date.

  She continued, oblivious to why I was speechless with my mouth agape. “So anyway, Daryl stared at your picture on my mobile as though he thought he recognised you. Then when I suggested setting you two up on a date, he said, ‘No. Out of the question,’ and walked away.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Really.” Jayne pulled out her mobile and searched for my picture. “The photo’s blurred, but I think you still look stunning as ever in it. I don’t know what his problem was. Perhaps I should take another photo.”

  “Don’t bother. And you can delete that one while you’re at it.” My self-esteem took a h
it. I’d been rejected by a guy I’d never met. The guy I was investigating. How creepy.

  Jayne slid her phone back into her pocket, pulled out a pink tube and spread gloss over her lips. “I’ll tell you one thing though, whoever Daryl was seeing must have been truly something.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He’s not like most guys round here who dip their liquorice into every flavour of sherbert on offer.” She nudged me with her elbow and winked. “If you know what I mean. He was picky. Looking for love, not just a one-nighter.”

  I stroked Jayne’s shoulder then stepped away. “Thanks. Got to go. If you think of anything else, let me know.”

  “Sure thing. See you at Laura’s on Friday.”

  The group of men I’d been heading toward, before bumping into Jayne, had disappeared. I walked over and sunk down into a seat at their table, which was crammed full of empty pint glasses and soggy coasters. I rested my elbows on the table, trying to avoid wet patches, and buried my face in my hands. No one had given me a lead on Daryl’s mystery girlfriend, and he either knew me, or just didn’t like the look of my face. My ears began buzzing.

  “There you are.”

  I raised my head. “Lee.”

  He carried a bottle of white wine, two glasses and bags of crisps to my table. “Thought you might be getting thirsty. Any luck?”

  “Not really. You?”

  “No.” He pulled a chair out and sat beside me. He filled my glass to the top, but barely poured two fingers worth in his. “Just a taster for me. I’m driving.”

  I took a sip. “Let’s hope the police have more luck. I hope they find a print or something in my bathroom.”

  He moved the empty pint glasses to the end of the table. “I doubt they’ll find anything.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  He took a deep breath. “This person is clever. Daryl’s death was made to look like an accident. The emails aren’t something the average person could conjure up. Whatever the connection is between you, Laura and Daryl, I guess this creep knows it’s not obvious otherwise the police would be knocking on their door. Want me to continue?”

 

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