Free WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers by H Elliston Page B

blame
Mark for having a crush, can you?  Laura is quite a catch.”
    “She
is.  Seriously gorgeous.”  Paul gazed at the ceiling, and then his
lips widened into a smile.  “Thanks, Chelsea.  You’ve put my mind at rest. 
Sorry for bothering you.  You’re not going to tell Laura I said anything,
are you?”
    “No. 
I don’t want her to worry about anything else this week.”
    “Nice
one.  I’ll get going.  You take care.”
    I
followed Paul to the front door.  “Go home and give Laura a big
kiss.” 
    “I
intend to.”
    I
waved him off to his car, wondering why Paul had risked Laura finding out that
he was suspicious by talking to me.  Poor bloke.  To risk that, he
must have been pretty distraught about the thought of Laura canoodling with
Mark.  Maybe last night’s alcohol had Mark saying things he
shouldn’t.  I wished I’d been the bar maid so I could have listened. 
I laughed then blushed, imagining myself dressed up in a naughty French maid
outfit, something fit for a stag meeting. 
    Before
I could turn to go back in my house, a chirpy voice called out, “Hey!”
    I
looked right and spotted Lee jogging along the pavement in the rain.  Perfect
timing!  The nearer he got, the more my insides felt like they were
bouncing along with him.  “Hey, stranger!  Where did you disappear to
last night?”  I grabbed the flaps of his open jacket and pulled him
through the front door.  My delight at seeing him hit me hard. 
    “I
went through my brother’s belongings again.  I thought I told you?” 
He pulled away and smiled.  “Who was at the door?”
    “Paul. 
Laura’s fiancé.”
    Lee
pursed his lips, and then poked his head out into the street.
    “Shut
the door and come inside.”  I guided Lee through to the dining room, and
just stood, overjoyed to have someone in my corner for the next dreaded
email. 
    “You
can let go of my hand now, Chelsea,” he said, failing to wriggle out of his
coat using one arm.
    He
draped his coat over the radiator.  “I came back late last night, but you
didn’t answer the door.”
    I
threw him a towel.  “I went to Laura’s.”
    He
ruffled his wet hair.  “Anyway, we’ve got our work cut out for us today,
trying to figure out this mess.”
    Finally,
I pulled up my email account.  “No new messages yet.  Did you
discover anything last night?”
    He
twisted his lips in disappointment.  “No diary, no notes.  I went
through all Daryl’s cupboards and even rooted in the bins.  Nothing but
standard bills, application forms for credit cards and loans.  Junk. 
I just don’t know what I’m looking for.” 
    I
crossed the room toward the kitchen.  “What about photos?”
    “Well,
his computer was smashed in, even the hard drive, so dead end there. 
Nothing struck me as strange on his camera.”
    “What
about his girlfriend?”  I grabbed a carton of milk, then glanced at Lee
while closing the fridge door.  “Didn’t your friend ‘Phillip’ say that
Daryl had been seeing someone?”
    Lee
nodded, sat on the sofa and flattened his ruffled hair.  “I never met
her.  It seems that no one did, which is strange.  Either she’s an
illegal, got two heads or she’s married.”
    I
tried not to laugh.
    “Anyway,
then I checked his mobile.  There weren’t many text messages.  I
guess he deleted them.”
    I
stirred the coffees.  “Do you think he has this person’s number in his
phone?  How creepy would that be?”
    “His
contact list reads like a business pages of plumbers, electricians...  I
presumed a lot of the phone numbers were clients, listed by profession so he’d
know who was who.”
    I
carried the drinks into the dining room and lowered myself onto the sofa. 
    “Thanks,
Chelsea.”  Lee took the mug from my hand, then changed seats and sat at
the computer.  “Still nothing yet,” he said, swivelling in the chair like
a child.  “Did you come up with any leads?”
    “Diddly-squat. 
My friends and