TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Suspense) (13 page)

Lee entered the room from the kitchen side, drying his hands on a towel and chewing gum.  “Oh!  I was expecting... never mind.  Thanks for coming so soon.”

The policemen fiddled with their radios.  When the muffled voices and crackling died down, they introduced themselves as Officer Baines and Richardson.

 “Someone is threatening me,” I announced, scared that talking to the police would make it even more real.  “I’ve been getting threatening emails.  There’s a timer counting down and—”

“Let me take some details from you first.  Your full name?”

“Chelsea Denham.”

After ten minutes of questions and answers, the shortest officer flipped his notepad closed and looked across to me.  “Can you show us the emails?”

I stepped over to the computer, logged in and brought up the latest one.

The police officers stepped forward.  They read the words, heard the ticking…

“I see.  How many have you received?”

“Three.  I may have had more, but deleted them.  My friend has been getting them, too.  Laura Harris.”  I gave them Laura’s details.

 “Do you have any idea who could be sending them?” the taller Officer asked.  “The sender’s email is titled ‘No fool.’  Does that mean anything to you?”

“Not really.  Well, I know a guy named Carl Sanderson.  It’s possible he’s trying to get back at me over something that happened last year.”  I shrugged.  “But I’m really not sure.”

They scribbled in their notebooks again. 

I stayed quiet, listening to the slow scratches their pencils made on the paper.  I swapped a curious look with Lee.  I think he was wondering the same as I. 
How seriously are they taking our story? 

“What makes you think it’s a death threat?” the tall officer asked.  “There’s no direct mention of this in the message.”

Lee shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped forward.  “Because my brother received them, and he’s dead.  I no longer believe it was an accident.”

The officers shared a long and serious look.  “When was this?” 

“Two weeks ago.”

“I’ll need your brother’s name and the officer who was in charge.  We’ll look into it.”

“Okay.”  Lee gave details about Daryl.  “I want you to re-open his case.  I don’t believe his death was accidental.  He hasn’t received any more of these emails since he died.  That’s got to mean something.”

The officer nodded while scribbling.

“What should I do now?”  Hope hung off my words.

“Did Carl Sanderson know your brother?” the officer asked Lee.

Lee shook his head.  “I know most of his friends.  He could have been a client though.  His colleagues could answer that.”

The second officer left the room.  I heard his muffled voice and his radio crackling in the hall.  The tall officer pocketed his notepad then crossed his arms behind his back.  His stiff pose made him look even taller. 

I tilted my head up. 

“Do you have a friend or family member you can stay with?” he asked. 

The picture of an idyllic hotel popped to mind.  I nodded.

“In the mean time, we’ll start making enquiries.”

I figured immediate answers were not on the horizon.  I don’t know why, but I expected more.  Helicopters, bodyguards…  Well, maybe nothing
quite
so dramatic, but something. 

I gave the officer my account details.  Then, I glanced with dread at the clock on my computer screen.  Every second that passed dragged me closer to danger.

“You know there’s not much time left until the deadline, don’t you?”  Lee said firmly, as if reading my thoughts.  “The timer on my brother’s email is on zero.  And the fact that he’s dead…  Like I said.  That’s got to be bad.”

“We’ll get on it right away.”  The officer faced me.  “As soon as you know where you’re staying, Miss Denham, phone the station.  Ask for Officer Baines.”

“You can stay at my place.”  Lee crossed the room and draped his arm around me.  His breath was a mint wave over my face.  “If you’d like.”

I managed half a smile, but all I could think about was the danger I’d be putting him in. 

“Have you noticed anything else out of the ordinary?” the officer asked.  “A car outside your house, peculiar phone calls, or has anyone been paying particular attention to you, recently?”

“Well, no.  It’s just the emails.”  I nibbled my lip, wondering at his question.  “Oh.  My car was scratched on Saturday.”

“I see.  Anything else?”

I shook my head.

“Okay.  This could be a number of things.”  The Officer nodded at his colleague in the hall, then continued.  “A computer virus, software to hack into your computer files, or…” 

“I hope that’s all it is,” I muttered.

“We’ll be in touch, but if anything else happens, let us know right away,” the officer said on leaving.  “I’d suggest not opening your emails again until we know what they contain.  We’ll get the tech guys onto it.  Try not to worry, Miss Denham.”

I doubted I could do that. 

As soon as I shut the door behind them, Lee turned, and marched into the dining room.

“Do you think they’ll find anything?” I caught up to him and met his eyes, desperate to see a glint of hope in his expression.

“Fingers crossed.  There’s got to be a way of finding out who’s behind this.  I’m convinced I’ll come up with a good plan to catch them out if I have some time to think.  We’ll trick them into showing themselves.  Someone else could dress up as you, or...  Just trust me.”

I held my palm out.  “You’re here.  So I guess I do.”

CHAPTER 12

I
sent a quick text to Laura to say I was going to go to Lee’s house, and tagged his address on the end.  The phone beeped as I put it, along with the charger, into my bag and dropped it in the hall.  “I’ll charge my phone at your place.  I think it’s about to die.”  I went up the creaking stairs and, unsure of the dress code for a death threat occasion, I decided just to grab basic toiletries and a change of clothes, seems as I didn’t own a bullet proof vest. 

I entered the bathroom first, and headed forward to the shower.  I collected shampoo and gels from the rack inside and held them in my arms.  A cap popped off and landed on the floor.  While nudging the glass shower door shut with my elbow, I must have squeezed the bottles.  A zesty-lime fragrance filled the air.  Shampoo seeped over the rim and slid like neon slime down the side of the bottle to my top, and then blobbed on the thighs of my jeans.

“Damn!”

I dumped the bottles, grabbed a flannel from the edge of the sink, wet it and wiped.  The stain only spread.  Dampness soaked through to my bra.  I kicked the bathroom door shut and stripped down to my knickers.  While waiting for the sink to fill with hot water, I wrapped myself in a towel.

Keys jangled from the hall below.  I assumed Lee was getting impatient.  So, I dunked my top in to soak, and left my jeans and bra on the floor. 

My face cream and toothbrush were in the mirrored cabinet on the wall above the sink.  I opened it and grabbed the tub of cream from inside, vaguely aware of having seen something which didn’t belong. 

Lee shouted, “How long will you be?”

I closed the cabinet.  Stumbling, I backed away.  My fingers had wiped a clear patch in the steamed-up mirrored door. 

Through the patch, I saw it clearly.

My palm fell open.  The tub rolled off my hand and thumped on to the floor.  I blinked, shifting my focus to the left of my scarlet-faced mirror image.

Five red words reflected in the mirror from the wall behind me.  Steak knives were sticking out of the plaster.

I whirled around and stared at the wall above the toilet.  I jerked my head up as though I’d taken a punch under the chin.  It read:

‘TICK TOCK.  SLAG.  YOU’LL PAY.’

Standing two metres away, heart thumping faster, I followed the trail of letters with horrified eyes. 

The red curves and tails of the giant-sized handwriting looked almost friendly, but the meaning, for sure, was not.  The words, written in deep red lipstick across most of the wall, were no less frightening for not having been written in blood.  Seven of my own steak knives had been rammed into the plaster, sticking out of the wall at different angles.  They circled the word ‘slag,’ like a clock face.  I scanned the floor.  Where’s the eighth knife?  The end of the lipstick had broken off and was squashed on the wall creating a full stop.

I screamed.  The towel slid off my body.  I caught my toe on it, stumbled and twisted around. 

Rapid footsteps pounded up the stairs.  Thump, thump.  The door flung open so violently that its handle crashed against the heated towel rail.  The rattle caused two knives to drop out of the wall. 

“Chelsea, Chelsea.  What’s wrong?”  Lee grabbed my shoulders from behind.  He spun me around to face him. 

Disorientated, I stood with my face an inch from Lee’s, my legs so weak I expected to drop to my knees. 

“What happened?” he said.  His hand squashed against my bare breast as he leaned back to look at me.  His eyes ran up and down my body.

With a quivering finger, I pointed over his shoulder at the wall.  “L... Look!”  

A beat later, Lee turned his head.  “Bloody hell!”  He gathered me into his arms and stared at the writing.

“Exactly.”  I couldn’t breathe deep enough, like woolly cobwebs were smothering my face.  “Oh, God.  Oh, God.  What the hell’s going on?”  Cloaked in terror, but little else, I stood in shock, held up by Lee.  Tears poured down my cheeks. 

How did someone get into my house?
  The doors weren’t kicked in, the windows weren’t smashed – not in the rooms downstairs.  Did someone have a key?  While clinging to Lee, I tried to think of the last time I’d been in the bathroom, or at least looked up at the wall above the toilet.  Surely I didn’t pee with my eyes shut?  How long had this been here?  Who did it? 

I felt violated, and totally exposed as though the letters had eyes that were scrutinizing every inch of my naked body.  With those kinds of thoughts making my head spin like a washing machine, I pulled away from Lee and crossed my arms over my chest.  As he stepped forward to examine the writing, I turned my back to it. 

“Takes some force to ram those knives in.  The plaster on these walls must be pretty thick.”

“It is,” I said.  “Keeps the room warm.”  I dashed past him, grabbed my dressing gown from the back of the door and left the bathroom.  Breasts bouncing, I raced down the staircase so fast that I practically slid off the edge of each step.  When I landed on the floor at the bottom, I gripped the banister rail to right myself, wiped my eyes then looked up.  “Come on.  Let’s get out of here!”  My screaming words sounded too big for the house.  I slid my arms into my dressing gown and pulled it closed.  “Hurry!  What the hell are you doing up there?”

In five seconds Lee made the bottom of the stairs with my jeans and bra bundled in his hand.  I grabbed my bag and a random pair of shoes from the hall.  We shot one by one through the front door.  I moved barefoot like a runner in a race after the starting gunshot.