TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Suspense)

by Elliston, H

  “Another chance? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Do you… did you have feelings for me at all?” I sensed I’d totally blown it and my tears spilled out. Even I thought my voice had a pathetic, desperate edge to it now. “Ignore everything that’s happened and just look at me one last time.”

  “I can’t ignore what’s happened. I’m not a DVD that you can stop, delete or rewind.”

  I set my hands on his knees, crouched in front of him and tried to make him engage my eyes. “Imagine we’ve only just met,” I said, gently. “Nothing that’s happened this week exists. Clean slate. We’re standing in a bar in town, chatting. I lean closer to hear what you’re saying above the music. I look you in the eyes, then whisper in your ear and offer to buy you a drink. Don’t you want to get to know me?”

  His lips slanted.

  I crouched there, waiting, twitching through nerves. My stomach filled with jumping beans.

  “So… you came here to prove Laura wrong?”

  I nodded.

  “And you’re totally satisfied now?” He lifted my hand off his knee and pressed it against the corner of his jaw bone below his ear.

  I could feel his racing pulse under my fingertips.

  “Don’t you want to microscope-check anything else? Polygraph test me?”

  I shook my head.

  A glint in his eyes showed me he was approaching the brink of forgiveness.

  After lowering my hand, he curled his around the back of my head. He pulled me towards him until our foreheads touched. His sweet breath on my face tugged at my desire. I wanted him to kiss me.

  Against my cheek, he whispered, “I must have ‘idiot’ tattooed on my forehead.” Then, he pulled away and just stared.

  “No. No. You don’t. I’m the only idiot here.”

  After a hesitation, he surprised me by gently wiping my tears away with his thumb. He said, “I hope I don’t live to regret this, but yes. However much I don’t want to, I do have feelings for you. And yes, I’d accept the drink.”

  I gasped, couldn’t believe it. The answer I thought I’d never hear sent shivers running down my legs. Just as it sank in, he parted his lips, tilted his head, yanked me by the arms and kissed me.

  The moment our mouths came together, heat waves flowed around my body. We kissed with urgency in a fast, punishing way. His hands roamed wild, tugging, squeezing. I wrapped my palm around his neck, keeping him there, urging him on, needing him to kiss me harder and faster.

  “I promise I will never,” I murmured. “Ever.” Another kiss. “Doubt you again.”

  “Let’s not talk, Chelsea.”

  I got to my feet to climb on top of him. Lee twisted around and scooped me up. The next thing I knew I was laying across his lap on my back. His damp breath blew over my face while he moved, curving his body on top of mine. The way he tasted reminded me of a fine day in summer, and his body had a comforting warmth. He slid a hand along the outside of my leg as we kissed. Panic about losing him vanished.

  A few passionate moments later, he pulled away, rested on his elbows above me. His brown eyes smouldering so close induced an almost hypnotic trance.

  “I should stay angry at you,” he said, playfully brushing his nose against mine.

  “You should.”

  “You jump to conclusions, you’re firey.” His nose wrinkled. “Drive me crazy. You don’t like accepting help, don’t trust people, you like to get your own way. Irritating, impulsive.”

  “All positive stuff then?”

  “Sarcastic. Hmmm…”

  This wasn’t the type of character assessment I wanted, but still, I couldn’t help smiling. “So why are you laying on top of me?”

  His eyebrows formed a mischievous slant. “I’m a sucker for that belting smile of yours. You drive me batty, but somehow, you’ve gotten inside my head and I can’t push you out.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “I’m sorry for ever thinking of you as bait.”

  I melted at the way he spoke – cheeky yet smooth - when talking about his feelings for me.

  “So how was the cake?” I asked, the scent of chocolate from the coffee table impossible to ignore.

  He reached out, pressed a finger into the icing, and put a blob of it into my mouth.

  I licked his finger clean. “Yum. Who baked it?”

  “My mum.”

  “She’s a good cook.”

  He circled his finger around my mouth then dropped his lips back onto mine. They moved hungrily, swept down to my neck then along my collarbone, causing my skin to tingle. His hand slipped under my top, and his warm palm stroked my belly. My stomach flipped like surf waves.

  I felt weightless and carefree, as though floating into space. Thankfully, our embrace was not just in a dream at all.

  “Your hair is soaked,” he said, opening his mouth to kiss me on the lips again.

  “I got caught in the rain. Now shut up and kiss me.”

  With the worst timing ever, just as Lee slid his hand inside my jeans and tugged my pants, a melody from my bag broke the sensual haze. He removed his lips from my neck and twisted his head toward the sound. Ignoring the ring tone, I turned his face back to mine then fumbled around to undo his belt buckle.

  A few kisses later, our jeans hanging loose, I pulled away and eyed my bag, angry that it was still ringing.

  “I should get that,” I said.

  Lee groaned, and so did I, suspended in a short moment of rapture that I sensed was about to be snatched away.

  “Forget about it. Just kiss me.” His whispers blew warmth to my lips. “Let them leave a message.” We kissed again, and the call rang off.

  Lee scooped another lump of chocolate icing with his finger. Then my phone rang again. “Great.”

  I groaned, thumped the sofa, and then leaned over to get my bag. “I’ll just look at the number.” I dragged it by the strap across the floor.

  I didn’t know today would be the day we finally connected, and I didn’t know the flames of passion would suffocate after such a short time.

  As mesmerized as I was, I put my hand in my bag anyway and pulled out the singing mobile, privately cursing while forcing my gaze to leave Lee’s pouty lips. Laura’s name lit the screen. Oh, hell. What now? My stomach shrank back into a black hole of worry.

  Lee brought his chocolate-coated finger to my lips.

  I pressed the phone to my ear and lifted my head to lick the icing. “You couldn’t have picked a worse moment if you’d—”

  “It’s happened again,” Laura said, in a tight voice.

  I jerked forward, knocking Lee off me. Chocolate icing smeared across my cheek.

  Laura continued, “You were right.”

  “About what?” I gasped, the phone suddenly heavy in my hand.

  “They’ve demanded more money!”

  Her words propelled me out of my trance. I leapt from the sofa and found myself standing ramrod-straight in front of it. I kicked my bag across the floor. “Oh! I just knew it wasn’t over!”

  Laura’s unspoken thoughts somehow wound up in my head. I spun round to face Lee. “It wasn’t Lee. Definitely not,” I assured her, staring straight into his eyes.

  “Are you with him now?”

  “Yes. When did you get the message?”

  “About 30 seconds ago.”

  At least now, I didn’t need to convince her of Lee’s innocence anymore. I took a second of sweet pleasure out of that, and then began wishing we’d thought twice before paying in the first place. Laura thought it had ended, but an end is no more than the door to a new beginning.

  “How much do they want?”

  “Twenty thousand.”

  I stepped over to the window, lowered my voice and cupped my hand around my mouth. “This is out of control.”

  “They say they’ve still got evidence. But this time they have photos.”

  I slammed my hand against the wall, then pretended to head butt it. “Grrr. I knew it.”

  “What should I type
in the reply?”

  “I know you don’t want to hear this.” I paused. “Maybe you’ve got no choice but confess to Paul and phone the cops.”

  “Out of the question! I won’t, can’t. Jesus, Chelsea! I thought you understood.”

  “Okay, okay, calm down. But your theory about Daryl looks like it’s now totally wrong, and that worries the hell out of me.”

  “No. Lee’s exaggerated. Trust me on this. I know how grief can twist things in your mind. But perhaps Daryl was being blackmailed, too. I just don’t know... Anyway, what can I do about this money?”

  “Look, they can’t expect you to produce more money instantly. Buy some time. But not literally.”

  “I don’t have much time. I’m getting married the day after tomorrow. They know I’m under the gun here.”

  “Use initiative. Stall them. We need to think about how to deal with this. I’m on my way round.”

  Lee’s eyes, so narrow and full of concern, followed me around the room. I mumbled to myself and picked up my bag.

  Finding it hard to breathe steadily, the pressure built up like a chamber of terror within while I paced a tight circle. Once again, I wanted to phone the police, but knew Laura would never forgive me. Officer Baines probably wouldn’t believe me anyway, not since I’d lied.

  The crushing news made my embrace with Lee feel so distant now. The sordid mess kicking off again felt like changing lanes, taking a hairpin turn then speeding towards a concrete wall.

  Lee took hold of my arm mid-circuit. His gaze ticked over me. A frown removed the sparkle from his eyes.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded, curling his other arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “What else aren’t you telling me? Let me in, Chelsea.”

  I paused to draw breath. Unsure of whether I should tell him, the words jumped out at double speed anyway. “They’ve demanded more money and—”

  “Slow down,” he said, his face colouring red. “What money? I thought this has to do with email threats?”

  “Things have escalated since then.”

  “Well, that’s typical around you.”

  I slumped on the sofa and filled Lee in on the blackmail, his brother’s affair with Laura, and the money drop which explained why my hair was so wet.

  When I finished, he looked too stunned to even breathe. A blue vein popped up on his forehead, pulsating. I wanted to stroke it, take the stress away.

  His slow nod indicated things were adding up. A slow one was all he could manage. He finally knew the connection between me, Laura, and his dead brother.

  “Let me get this straight. Laura was Daryl’s mystery girlfriend, and she’s paid money to keep the affair quiet?”

  I nodded.

  Lee switched the telly off, chucked the remote away and held a serious face, pinning me with his chestnut eyes. He leaned forward, vein still pulsating like an angry worm under his skin. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this before? Whoever’s blackmailing Laura must have killed my brother!”

  My throat felt dry. “I couldn’t tell you because Laura was so convinced it was you. But she still thinks that Daryl’s death isn’t linked, that it was accidental. She says this person only wants money.”

  “Then she’s a fool.” Lee shook his head. “You asked me to forgive you, and all the time you had this information about my brother?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t get the chance. The only thing on my mind was the thought I’d lost you.”

  He threw a hand into the air. “Jesus, Chelsea!”

  “They want more hush money, twenty thousand, or they’ll still tell Paul during the wedding ceremony on Saturday. So now you know everything I do.”

  “Twenty? That’ll make it fifty-five grand!” Lee shook his head so much I didn’t think he’d be able to stop. But he did, and his expression changed as if switching perspectives. “Laura has to tell Paul, and the police.”

  “She won’t.”

  I filled Lee in on Paul’s painful childhood, and how the blackmailer threatened to expose the affair earlier if Laura involved the police.

  “Why don’t you phone the police instead?” he asked.

  “Laura didn’t get out of bed for months when her parents died, barely ate, hardly spoke… It doesn’t matter who phones the police, the blackmailer will tell Paul about the affair. But even if not, I’m sure Paul would figure something was wrong when Police start swarming their house. Paul will leave her. She’ll crumble. I can’t see her go through that again. Not twice in nearly six months.”

  “Does Laura know who’s doing this? Know who killed my brother?”

  I almost laughed. “You’re kidding, right? Don’t you think we’d be kicking down their—”

  “Stupid question.”

  “I’m hoping another solution presents itself. If it doesn’t, then yes, I guess I’ll have to phone the cops myself tomorrow evening. Until then, I’m just trying to support her.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Paul’s incessant milling around Laura’s house prevented me from speaking in private with her. Frustrated, I gave up and waited in the lounge. Before long, the best man, Mark, arrived. “Hey!” he said, removing his beige leather driving gloves while crossing in front of me. “How are you?”

  “Good, thanks. Bit cold out. You?”

  He smiled at me. “Yeah. Great.” He pointed at my cheek. “You’ve got a little something on your—”

  Oh, Christ! The chocolate. Why hadn’t anyone told me? “Thanks.” I wiped the icing off my face and licked my fingers.

  Mark settled onto the opposing sofa, laid his gloves on the arm and started filling in a newspaper crossword.

  He used to be a good friend, until Jayne had tricked me into dating him a short while back. I quit taking his phone calls after the third night out because I still felt guilty about dating someone. I felt awful about the way I’d rejected him, but relieved that he wasn’t a very outspoken person about feelings, relationships... It meant he didn’t press me for an explanation. If handled badly, dating friends can kill friendships. I’d learned the hard way.

  I remained sitting on the sofa, nibbling my fingernails in my rising awkwardness. Mark was a nice guy and deserved better. I intended to make it up to him one day, but not today. Not with all this going on.

  His presence reminded me again that Jayne's attempt at playing cupid in my life often backfired. He had shaved his head since I’d last seen him, making his long nose appear even more Pinochio-like. Laura and I often joked that his intelligence made him the human equivalent of a computer processor – Intel Mark inside.

  I put a smile on my face. “Looking forward to the big day?”

  Mark glanced up from the crossword. “Yeah. What about you?”

  “I can’t wait.” Putting us in the same room, when we’d never cleared the air, was like trying to mix vinegar and water, but I carried on making an effort. “Have you got your speech ready?”

  “Yeah.” He tapped a pen to his temple. “It’s all in here. I’ve also compiled a short DVD of photos to play. I think I’ll manage to embarrass the poor bloke. That’s what I’m meant to do, right?”

  I chuckled.

  He smirked then returned to the crossword.

  Paul poked his head round the door and motioned for Mark to follow him.

  With the men out of the way, I joined Laura in the kitchen just as she finished a conversation with her aunt over the phone.

  “How’s your Aunt Carol?” I asked.

  “She’s good.” Laura began chopping vegetables. “Well, that’s a lie. She keeps pestering me for more of my mum’s things, you know, to remember her by. But I’ve been putting it off.”

  “What does she want?”

  “Jewellery, ornaments, the expensive kind. My parents didn’t leave her much of value in their will.” There was deep sadness in Laura’s voice. “I’m worried she’ll trade them for booze. I can’t remember the last time she was sober. It’s gotten much worse since my parents died, as has her d
ress sense. She either looks scruffy, or over the top like a clown.”

  “I didn’t know her drinking was quite that bad. You really do have a lot on your plate.”

  “Maybe when this is over I’ll give her something. Make her promise to quit the hard stuff. If there’s anything left to give her.”

  “Anything left?”

  Laura turned her back to rinse the knife in the sink.

  It was hard to get my head around how problematic her life was. After just days of carrying Laura’s problems, I wondered how she’d ever maintained a cool head. Next week, I thought, next week has to be a good one to balance this out. I pictured Laura on her honeymoon, basking on a white beach with Paul. Then, I pictured myself and Lee, with a lot of uninterrupted time together between the sheets. It made me long for this nightmare to be over more than ever.

  “Listen,” I said, wishing I could have changed the subject to a more pleasant one. “We have to talk about you-know-what.”

  Laura suddenly looked horrified, as though looking into my eyes was the same as staring down the barrel of a gun. “Keep your voice down. Paul could walk in at any minute and hear us.”

  I lowered my voice. “How long shall we give them to reply to your message?”

  “I’m working on the money. I’m gonna have to sell some of my mum’s—”

  There was an unexpected knock at the front door followed by feet descending the stairs.

  “I’ve had an idea,” I whispered. “Mark’s quite a brain box, isn’t he?”

  She nodded, but only seemed to be half-listening.

  “Perhaps he has some thoughts on email accounts. You know, about hacking into them. Or maybe the dead guy knew this creep and was seen typing the password.”

  Laura shook herself and moved her gaze from the hallway to me. “Huh?”

  I tugged her sleeve. “I said...”

  Someone knocked on the door again, louder.

  Laura’s knife clattered when she dropped it in the sink. She darted into the hall. “That better not be…”

  I followed, while wondering how to persuade Mark to help us. After all, we were barely speaking, and I’d also have to make him promise to not mention it to Paul.

  Down the hall, I saw Lee standing in the doorway swapping pleasantries with Paul.