TICK TOCK RUN (Romantic Mystery Suspense) (4 page)

“Don’t worry.  How could you have known?”  His brief smile portrayed the picture of forgiveness, but his stiff posture contradicted it.

I had one shorter fingernail now.

It certainly was a date to forget, and I couldn’t help thinking that someone, somewhere, really did have it in for me this weekend. 

“It was my fault for saying something thoughtless,” I said. 

“He was one of my best mates.  Kind of knocked the wind out of me.” 

I made a gentle hum of support.  I swirled the wine and soda in my glass which bordered on empty, then slid it away.  “What happened to him?  Sorry.  I’m being nosey, aren’t I?”

Phillip stared straight at me.  “It’s okay.  He fell and broke his neck.” 

“Oh,” I said, lost for further words.  Once again, I searched my brain for a polite lie to excuse myself from the date.  I didn’t know how to respond.  The awkwardness we’d managed to get rid of had returned.

While I fished inside my bag to locate my purse, Phillip leaned across our table and lowered his voice. “Well, they say it was an accident, say he slipped off the edge of a hill.  But, his brother’s not so sure.”

Hearing his spooky voice, a shiver of déjà vu wriggled through me.  I dropped my bag.  It seemed, suddenly, I’d been reminded of the guy I spoke to yesterday.  I focused on Phillip’s serious face.  “My friend said you were at the pole-dancing bar in town last night.  Is that true?” 

“Yeah,” he answered.  “That’s when they arranged this date.”

I shuffled in my seat.  My bag remained open, the contents spilled across the floor.  “I think I may have spoken to your friend’s brother.”

“Lee?  Yeah.  He was there.  Great bloke.” 

Our table atmosphere was now highly charged, although not in a pleasant way.  I didn’t want to cause him pain by prying, yet found it increasingly hard not to speak my mind.  My curiosity won out.  “
My number’s up!”
I blurted, loud enough to cause the people on the neighbouring table to stare.
  “
That’s what Lee told me.” 

Phillip shrugged.  “Strange, huh?  Those were Daryl’s last words.  The last time anyone heard from him.  He was already dead when I found him.”

I gulped.  “Yikes!”

“Exactly.  I can’t get the image out of my head.”

“How terrible.”

“Sure was.”

I twirled my ponytail.  “Why do you think Daryl sent that text to his brother?”

“The whole thing’s a mystery.  But his number’s definitely up now, isn’t it?”

I shuddered at his cold-hearted comment.  “Did Daryl normally call his brother a slag?”

Phillip shook his head.  “‘Ladies’ man’ is more his style.”

I thought about what I’d overheard last night.  “Didn’t he smash his computer?” 

“More like took a sledge hammer to it,” he said.  “His flat was a state.  Trashed.  Looked like he’d been burgled.  Although, there were no signs of a break-in.”

“Except for the trashed house.”

“Daryl wasn’t himself for weeks before.”  The drop in Phillip’s voice, now soft and kind of cautious, made me lean across the table.  “I assumed he’d broken up with his mystery girlfriend, but he didn’t talk about her.  She didn’t even attend the funeral.  Lee’s desperate to find out who she is.” 

I clenched my teeth, trying to hide my unease from him. 

 “I found Daryl’s body one lunch time while walking my dog.”  He fiddled with his glass.  “Couldn’t believe it.  Still can’t.”

“Jesus!”  I yelped.  His pain was etched on every facial feature.  He didn’t need me bombarding him with questions, but I had to know more.  “Just one more thing.”  I gripped the edge of the table.  “This is a strange question, but, do you know if Daryl got that ‘number’s up’ phrase from an email?”  I raised an eyebrow, prompting a response. 

Phillip looked up and his stare bore into me.  “Why are you so interested in Daryl?”

“I’m trying to work out if I’m linked to him.  I received that same phrase in an email yesterday.”

“Really?”

“Yes.  Really.  Have you heard that phrase before?  I mean, before Daryl.  Any of your friends, or work colleagues ever mentioned getting a message like that in an email, or a text?”

He shook his head.

“I’m sure it’s just a random message or a mix-up.  That guy Lee, he took the phone from me before I finished reading the text.”

Phillip placed his palm on the table and looked into my eyes.  “All I know is, it was a strange text for Daryl to send to his brother.  And now that he’s dead, I guess Lee will never know what he meant by it, and by that ‘people have to pay for... or whatever it was... line.”

“You’re shittin’ me?”  Hearing this phrase was also in the text raised my alert level sky high.

“Excuse me?”

“People have to pay for what they’ve done?”

“Something like that.”  Phillip took a deep breath and rounded his shoulders forward.  He looked worn out, mentally.  The poor guy.  Finding a friend’s dead body wouldn’t be an easy thing for anyone to deal with.

I realised it was cruel to fire more questions at a grieving man I’d only just met.  Besides, it sounded like he didn’t know anything useful about my email, its origin, or the story behind the text.  If he did know more, his gloomy face didn’t reveal any sign.

Even if I had nothing to fear, the mystery intrigued me.  I didn’t know anyone named Daryl, so why had I stumbled upon his name and that damn phrase two nights in a row?  It felt creepy.  I knew what I had to do next.  “I’m sorry about your friend,” I said.  “But would you do me a favour?”

“Depends what it is.”

“Would you pass my number to his brother, please.”  I scribbled my name, number, ‘
call me,’
and ‘have you checked your brother’s emails?’ on a serviette before he had the chance to say no. 

He pinched the paper between his fingers as if accepting a written rejection.  He lingered a moment, then frowned.  “You want your date to set you up on another date?  Is this the way things are done these days?” 

“I wouldn’t know.  But this is important,” I said, staring long enough for him to realise I was serious.  “I only want to talk to him.  Not date him.”

“All right.” 

His voice sounded depressed.  The dullness of his eyes instilled me with sadness.  I felt like I, and I alone, had sullied the evening.

I placed a stack of coins on the table to cover my drink, and gave him a sympathetic embrace.  After stuffing my belongings back into my bag, I left the bar.  Blinking a few times on the path, I shook my internal compass, then found a taxi to take me home.

On entering my house, my mind was racing.  A suspicious loss of life, death’s door words in my inbox, the faceless girlfriend and a possible burglary.  What had I stumbled upon? 

After wondering why Laura had left a lamp on when I’d clearly asked her not to, I engaged the safety chain and locked the front door.  In light of what I’d learned this weekend, it felt similar to sealing my escape hatch. 

I hated the idea of any problem, however big or small, clouding Laura’s wedding week.  I couldn’t explain what didn’t feel right, but, it was like I’d been signed up for something.  In secret. 

It wasn’t the actual email, the text, or even the phrases within them that worried me. 

No. 

My concern after this weekend’s unsettling news was, what happened to the people who received them?

CHAPTER 3

L
aura’s dress fitting!  I’d slept in. 

I ran into the bathroom to shower, sent a text to Laura, then drove like Lewis Hamilton to her house. 

“I’m so sorry,” I whined, dashing into her hallway.  “I slept in.” 

The seamstress passed me with a huge zip bag draped across her arms.  Laura’s wedding dress. 

“You’re forgiven.”  Laura backed up her words with a smile.  “Thanks for trying to get here.  You’re more than a best friend.  You’re like the sister I don’t have.” 

“Ahr.  Same here.”  I hugged her.

“I’m so pleased I’ll be wearing my mum’s wedding dress.  Kind of feels as though she’ll be there on the day, you know?”

Being an only child, Laura had inherited a fortune when her parents died last year; money, property, the works.  Her dad was into real estate and rented out several houses, which Laura was now in charge of.  Laura didn’t blame me for her parents’ death.  Nevertheless, my being in the right place at the wrong time that day, left me riddled with guilt.  I had made it my duty to be supportive at every stage of her wedding to fill a small bit of the void I’d played a part in creating.  I’d failed miserably today, and assumed my guilt showed in my expression. 

“Is your dress ready?”

She motioned for me to follow her into the kitchen.  “More or less fits me like a glove.  Just like Paul does.” 

“Oh, Laura.  Shut the hell up.  That’s too soppy on an empty stomach.  Is Paul at work?” 

She nodded.  “Then he’s going to the gym when he finishes.  I’ll hardly see him today.  It’s his stag do tonight.”

“Why didn’t he have it on Saturday?”

“Some of the guys couldn’t make it.”

I sat at the granite island in her kitchen.  I ate a bagel, and thought about how much I wanted Laura to embark on a new, positive life with Paul.  She needed this marriage, needed something wonderful to mark the start of a fresh era.  I did, too.  More than she’d ever know. 

Laura appeared wide-awake.  I, on the other hand, felt stuck in a different time zone.

“How was your
date
?  Sorry, I’ll rephrase, your
night out
?”  She shot me a sly grin.  “I meant to text you, but we went to bed early.” 

“Well, we won’t be joining you down the aisle.  To say the least, the
date
was awkward.  Guess what?  He knew that guy who died.”  I expected a reaction, but saw little more than concentration in her eyes while she started wiping the worktop.  “I asked Phillip some questions, but he wasn’t very helpful.  Anyway, he’s passing my number to Lee, Daryl’s brother.”

Laura stopped cleaning, narrowed her eyes at me.  “You’re kidding?  The poor guy.  Let him grieve in peace.”

I nodded.  “I will. 
After
I find out if he knows who sent me that email.”  I lifted magazines and she wiped underneath.  “I didn’t even know Daryl, but everything I do leads back to him.  It’s becoming creepy.  If he wasn’t dead, I’d think he was stalking me!”

“Strange,” she mumbled, turning around to scrub the sink. 

I took the hint and changed the subject.  Her week was stressful enough without me adding to it.

“Don’t let Jayne set me up again.”

“Okay.  But we both know she loves playing cupid.”

I laughed.  “And loves making me look stupid!” 

Jayne was responsible for getting Laura and Paul together.  After that, she thought she had the magic touch for matchmaking.  Any singleton she knew paid the price for Laura’s happiness.

Laura glanced at her watch, threw the dishcloth in the sink then turned to me.

I recognised her
‘do me a favour’
smile.