TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Suspense) (12 page)

“Hold on!”  A memory flooded back.  “Remember what Carl said to us in town?”  I sat rigid and looked at Laura.  “He asked us for the time, didn’t he?  Maybe he was referring to the timers in the emails?”

“Yes.  He did ask that,” she flexed her voice.  “But he looked in a hurry.  Besides, I doubt he knows our email addresses, and why would he risk getting into trouble just because you wouldn’t date him again?”

I looked at Lee.  “Did your brother know anyone named Carl?”

“The name’s not familiar.”

Given my state of mind, I knew I might have been wrong.  If not Carl, then who?

Lee fiddled with items on Laura’s desk.  I think the lack of suspects irritated him.  “Let’s go,” Lee said.  “We should phone the police.  I’ll wait until we get back to your house to check your email.” 

As I met Laura’s eyes, her face froze into a mask of trepidation.

She gulped.  “The police?”

“Hopefully the police can trace the source of the emails.”  I gave Laura another sympathetic hug then stood.  “Who does know both of us
and
Daryl?” 

Laura shrugged, but then, her cold gaze flashed over my shoulder to Lee.  Her eyes took on a suspicious quality. 

“Where’s Paul?” I asked.  “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“He sent me a text.  He’ll be home any minute.”

CHAPTER 10

I
stood at Lee’s side as he sat at my desk and curled a hand over the computer mouse.  “If we’re right about the time pattern, Chelsea, the email should be here.  Do you want to open it, or shall I?” 

I took a deep, cleansing breath.  “Go ahead.”

By now, Lee knew my password as if it was his own.  He logged into my email account.  The inbox loaded.  In the spam folder, the word
‘urgent’
grabbed my attention like a red warning stamp on a utility bill.  Lee double clicked on the subject line.  The screen burst to life.  The countdown timer ticked off its rhythm of annoyance again.

“Yep.  There’s another game on here,” he said. 

I rested a hand on the top of the computer chair behind Lee’s head, and fixed my gaze on the screen.  “Let’s get it right this time.”

The golden number sixty glowed brightly from a second, but smaller, countdown timer.  It gave us one minute to play a puzzle that I desperately wanted to win.  Utterly crazy, yes.  But as far as I knew, my life, and now even Laura’s, depended on getting it right. 

Lee wheeled his chair closer to the screen.  “What do we have to do?”

I saw nothing but a blur at first while he scrolled further down the page, nosing around. 

“Keep the page still, will you?”  My head throbbed in rhythm with the ticking speakers. 

“Nothing useful here.  Let’s start the puzzle.”  He brought the shapes and timer into full view. 

I leaned forward, placing my hand on the desk. Movement on the screen caught my eye.

Forty-five seconds.  Forty-four.  Forty-three.

“Oh, crap!” I yelled, my heart drum-rolling.  “The game’s started already!”

Forty seconds. 

“Shhh.  Quiet a second.”  Lee read the small print below the puzzle.  “Assemble the shapes into a square.  Do it quickly to end your nightmare.”

“A square.  Right, let’s win this.  Come on,” I screamed, only biting distance from his ear. 

Lee flinched at my voice, then clicked on several shapes and moved them across the screen in haste.  Many edges jutted out, making the cluster resemble a clumsy star. 

I pointed.  “Move that shape to the right.” 

“It’s too wide.”

Thirty seconds.  Almost there.  Only two pieces looked out of place, and enough time remained to swap them around.

“Switch those,” I said, my fingers floating in front of the screen. 

“Ugh.  Chelsea!  I’m trying to concentrate.  Move your hand.” 

 “The pieces are all so different.  It doesn’t even look like it could make a square.”

“I’ll switch the blue and the yellow,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.  “Stuff the red one.”

“Why won’t you listen?”
 
I reached over and grabbed the mouse off him.  Hunched over the desk, arm stretched across his legs, I clicked on the red shape.  It dropped and got left behind.
 

Lee gasped. 

I positioned the cursor again, clicked, and managed to move it.  Twelve seconds. 

“Come on,” he said.

I dragged the yellow ‘C’ shape to the left, and replaced it with the red ‘L’ one.  Ten seconds remained. 

“No.  That’s not right,” Lee shouted. 

“I know.  I know.  I’m trying my best here.”  Either the desk was rattling or my nerves were shaking it.  I turned the red piece by ninety degrees, then slotted the yellow into the top left space.  I blinked, desperate to see a perfect square. 

Lee banged his fist on the desk, causing a pen to roll.  “It doesn’t fit.  We’re out of time.”

A burst of high-pitched notes beeped through the speakers then stopped. 

I took my hand off the mouse and pointed at the screen.  “It looks like an Early Learning children’s puzzle.  How could we get it wrong?”

Lee shoved papers across the desk, then head-butted the head rest on the chair.  “Goddamn those stupid games.”

The brief moment of hope had washed away all too quickly. 

A large red X flashed onto the screen, literally painting our failure onto the puzzle.  A wicked cackle grew loud through the speakers. 

I jerked away.  “At least someone’s having fun.”

“Maybe we could print it out and see it the shapes actually make a square,” Lee said.

“I’m out of ink.”

To add to my mood, Lee wheeled his chair back and the castor ran over my big toe. 
 
“Ouch!  Watch what you’re doing,” I yelled, clutching my foot.

“Sorry, Chelsea.”

I hopped over to the sofa for a breather.  My last thoughts as I drove away from Laura’s house pinged into my mind.  Why had Lee ignored my suggestions?  Did he have any intention of solving the puzzle?  I stared in wonder at the back of his head.  But then, he sighed.  He sounded disheartened, too. 

Still seated, he wheeled closer to the desk and then looked over his shoulder.  “We’d better check the timer.  Are you ready for this?”

I signalled
okay
with a nod.  “How long do I have?” Toe still throbbing, I staggered to his side. 

“They sure know how to keep us busy,” he complained. 

The timer was different again.  Four circles were positioned in a row across the screen like car dashboard dials.  The first represented
days
, the second
hours
, then
minutes
and
seconds
.  I wondered why they’d gone to so much trouble when a digital clock would have done the trick. 

We watched, unspeaking, counting the markers around the circles with our fingers touching the screen. 

I faced Lee.  Like looking in a mirror, my jaw flopped down when his did.  “One day.” 

“Jeez!”  He turned, stared unblinking at the screen.  “The deadline is nine, forty-three tomorrow night, precisely.  That soon?”

“Oh, hell!”  I stumbled backwards and collapsed onto the sofa. 

Lee was wringing his hands awkwardly, swivelling in the chair.  “There’s still time to sort this out.  Don’t panic.”

I dragged the all-important question from my throat.  “On a scale of one to ten, how convinced are you that Daryl was murdered?”

Lee pressed a finger over his lips and drew a deep breath, as though needing a cigarette before answering.  “Nine.”

“Why?”

“I think we can presume that Daryl received more than one email, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“The emails come late morning, right?

“Mine and Laura’s do.”

“Daryl’s email, the one I showed you, was sent the day
before
Phillip discovered Daryl’s body.”

“And...”

Lee clenched and unclenched his jaw.  “Phillip found Daryl just before noon.  If whoever is sending these emails,
didn’t
know he had died, then they’d have sent one that very morning, wouldn’t they?”

I gulped.

He stuck the end of a pen into his mouth, bit down and then whipped it out.  “Besides, it’s got to be more than a coincidence to receive a death threat and then—”

“Plunge to your death?”

“Exactly.”

“I agree.  Sorry for... you know.”  I didn’t need anyone to connect the dots.  I was next. 

I stood, and paced in and out of the kitchen.  The unrelenting wall clock reinforced my terror, with every heartbeat marked by an obnoxious tick that I ached to silence.  I was in over my head and wanted out.

“Don’t give up,” Lee said.  “Giving up means failing, and we’re not going to fail.”

“Don’t give up?”  I stopped pacing and faced him.  “Someone’s planning on killing me tomorrow night.  We don’t have the faintest idea why.  If I knew, I’d go to the creep’s house and sort it out this very second.”

Lee walked over.  He tilted my chin up with his finger.  “I’m here for you.  You’re not in this alone.”

I looked at him, desperately searching for something beyond the problem in his eyes staring back at me.  The quiet room felt still and we didn’t speak.  For a moment, it felt like he had managed to pause time.

He stroked my temple with his thumb.  It left a warm spot.   I began looking at him in a new way.  Then, as though he’d released his finger from a pause button, my mind joined real-time again.

“I’m calling the police,” he said, his voice distinct and clear.

I nodded.  “We should’ve done it sooner.”

“I’ll try to get put through to the officer who was in charge of Daryl’s case.”  He pulled out his phone and dialed.  “Police, please.  Yes, I need to report…”

CHAPTER 11

 “
H
ow’s your toe?” Lee asked.  “Want me to rub it?”

“What?” I replied, sitting on the sofa.  “Yes.  Er, no.  Forget the toe.  What’s taking the police so long?”

Lee pressed his lips together in a barely-there smile, and returned to the kitchen.  I thought he was trying not to laugh.

Rub my toe?  I guessed he was trying to take my mind off things.  It worked for about ten seconds.

There was a knock at my front door. 

“That’ll be them,” Lee said, washing our lunch plates in the sink.

“Finally.  I’ll get it.” 

I greeted two male officers, directed them along the hall and into the dining room.  I stood in the doorway.