Watching Her: A Gripping Thriller Novel With A Twist

by Emmy Ellis

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “You have to go back to him now. He’ll no doubt be outside the ladies’. If you don’t appear soon, he’ll go in there—and he won’t find you. Then he’ll try here.” He held my wrists tighter. “Take this.” He let me go.

  He reached down then brought out a slightly old-fashioned phone.

  “A burner,” he said. “My number is inside. Communicate with me when you can. Keep it on vibrate only, or silent. It has a tracker, so I’ll always know where you are.”

  “But you already have me tracked.”

  He smiled. “So you found it then?”

  “I did. Hardly an ingenious place to put it. A pocket.” I smiled, too. “Well, I’m all but floored by your spy skills.”

  “It was the best I could do in the circumstances. And it brought me to you, didn’t it?”

  “It did.”

  “Go now.”

  He gave me a gentle push. I stared at him as he stared at me, and invisible words floated between us. If I could get mine out of my mouth I would have, but I couldn’t manage a single one of them. I backed off, reaching behind me for the lock.

  “Seriously,” he said. “Go now. He’ll cause a fuss any minute, and while your father’s enemies know you and him are here, I still have the advantage of being invisible. We don’t want that to change.”

  “But… Oh, fucking hell!”

  I turned, slid the door open, and stepped out. I didn’t look back. Couldn’t. He was standing there, possibly watching me go, and I didn’t want to see his face, his expression.

  “I’ll be around. Close,” he said.

  I dashed out of the men’s as quickly as I’d dashed into it. Slap bang into Kolya.

  “What were you doing in there?” he demanded, pale face unusually flushed.

  “Using the toilet, what do you think?” I shot back.

  “Why in there? That is for the men.” He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes.

  “When the ladies’ cubicles are full, you expect me to stand in there and jiggle about when there’s a perfectly good loo next door? I don’t bloody think so, not with the emergency I had. Now, back to the café, yes?”

  I swanned off towards Coffee Heaven, praying my legs didn’t falter.

  Praying that Kolya followed and didn’t investigate that toilet.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  We ate a sugary, sticky pastry each, and I had two espressos. Not usually my thing, but Kolya had ordered them, and I didn’t want to rock the boat any more at this stage. The caffeine hit quickly, though, my heart hammering.

  I resisted looking at the doorway to the main reception despite every brain cell screaming at me to do so. Had Sutton left the hotel? Was he still here watching me or had he gone to keep guard over Guilia?

  Kolya sat hunched over his coffee, clearly not happy with me, his big shoulders seemingly even bigger in his thick winter jacket. I wondered if he was sulking because I’d given him the slip for a few minutes.

  “Why don’t you take your coat off?” I asked. “Your cheeks are red. You’re too hot.”

  “I told you, I like the heat.”

  “You’ll overheat.” I leant forward and tugged the zipper, pulling it down a fraction.

  “No.” He gripped my wrist. “Leave it.”

  “Why?” I didn’t appreciate the way he was frowning at me or how his fingers were vice-like around my arm.

  “I want my gun accessible,” he whispered, shifting his gaze from left to right as though surveying customers at neighbouring tables.

  “Oh, okay.” I glanced at his pockets, not that I could really see them, and decided to leave the jacket subject alone. Guns and their accessibility were not my area of expertise.

  Sitting back, I, too, looked around and breathed in the sickly scent of the bakery and the heavy tang of coffee that laced the air. The crowded room had wood-panelled walls that were pale and polished. The floor was tiled and a little damp in places from the snow falling from boots as people entered. Nearly every table was occupied, as it had been when we’d arrived, mostly by two or three people, and a few had children in highchairs, too young to be at school.

  In the far corner, bent over a paper and with an empty glass that I suspected had once contained a bitty orange juice drink, was a man, who, like Kolya, had kept on his outdoor coat. He had on thick glasses, and one hand hovered at his cheek as though he was covering his face purposely.

  My heartbeat romped up. Was it a sixth sense? Instinct? I didn’t know, but that man set every nerve in my body on high alert. It was something about him.

  I wanted to run, just get up and race from the café. But I didn’t. I pulled in a deep breath and moved my attention from him to Kolya.

  Perhaps I was being oversensitive, super-suspicious and paranoid.

  Kolya stared over my shoulder, his eyes narrowed. A muscle flexed in his cheek.

  I followed his line of sight.

  Fuck. No paranoia, this was real.

  Another man, in a black winter coat with the collar turned up, occupied a booth not far from us. He studied the flimsy menu as though it were a document of great importance, even though an empty plate scattered with crumbs sat before him.

  Act normal. Don’t let them know you’ve seen them.

  I picked up my coffee cup, realised that my hand was shaking, and put it down again. It clattered in the saucer, and the small spoon jerked to the table, spreading a thin brown streak on the polished surface.

  Kolya frowned at me, his expression grim.

  “They’re here,” I whispered.

  He gave the barest hint of a nod.

  “Fuck,” I said.

  “It is okay, it is what we want.” Beneath the table he rested his hand on my knee. “Stay strong.”

  I tried to find comfort in the small gesture but couldn’t. If these men were here, watching at me, were they also at Guilia’s school, looking at her?

  “I will go to the counter,” Kolya said. “Get one more pastry, and while I am there I will let Ivor’s men know that we are systems go.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “I have a small radio.” He touched his collar.

  “So just do it here.”

  “No, I need to get my eyeballs around that corner, make sure there are only two in here. We need to know what we are dealing with.”

  “I don’t like this.” A wave of nausea swept over me.

  “I know you do not.” He leant a little closer. “But this is how we will end it. This is how we will move forward, together.”

  I swallowed, the lingering taste of coffee bitter on my tongue, the sincerity in his eyes adding to the acrid flavour. “Okay.”

  “And try not to stare at them,” he said, placing his hand in his pocket and, I suspected, around his gun.

  I nodded stiffly, and as he stood, I gawped out of the window to avert my gaze from the two men whose mere presence filled me with fear.

  Another man, same black jacket, hood up, dark inquisitive eyes, walked past the hotel. His shoulder passed close to the window.

  We were surrounded. Like wasps, they’d swarmed, swooping down on us the moment we’d surfaced.

  It was terrifying how quick and efficient they were, finding us in this Alpine village and encircling us like this.

  A pulsating sensation in my pocket caught my attention.

  The phone. The one Sutton had given me.

  I glanced at Kolya again. He had his back to me and appeared to be studying the glass cabinet stuffed full of cakes.

  Carefully, I retrieved the phone, keeping it beneath the table should Kolya turn around. After checking my two unwanted shadows, I studied the screen.

  An image.

  I juddered out a breath. It was Guilia, I knew it was. The shot had been taken through the wrought-iron bars of the school we’d driven past. Her red coat was buttoned up to her chin, and a short black skirt teamed with thick tights and sturdy waterproof boots completed her outfit.
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  My heart seemed to inflate, the pressure pushing against my lungs. I’d created such a beautiful child. There wasn’t one thing about her that wasn’t perfect. Her blonde hair swung as she held her hands out to the sides, apparently twirling ballerina style, the way I used to. She was laughing, her mouth wide and her eyes closed, her cheeks glowing, little balls of delicate skin.

  Was she dizzy yet?

  My mouth twitched, a smile forming. This was Sutton’s way of telling me he was there, watching over her. This was what she was doing right now, playing on her break.

  How would I ever repay him? I replied.

  Thank you.

  Within a few seconds a message came through.

  No thanks needed.

  I glanced up. Kolya was in the same position I’d last seen him.

  There are men here. The ones who want me and G.

  He came back to me quickly.

  Do as the Albino says. Stay with him. And when this is over…

  I stared at Sutton’s words. Over? What did he want to say?

  Then you will come to me.

  I sensed Kolya moving and hid the phone again, deep in my jacket pocket, next to the gloves.

  Sutton wanted me to go to him. When this was over.

  Kolya sat heavily in the seat next to me, his expression grim.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Fucking radio is not working,” he muttered, glancing about.

  A woman peered at him, no doubt fascinated by his white hair, eerily pale eyes, and ghostly skin, but her attention was the last thing we needed.

  He stared her down then turned to me again. “We need to get up to the house. I can make contact there, organise backup.”

  “You mean they’re not here? Ivor’s men? I thought they were all around.” Panic fluttered through me.

  “No, they are nearby, waiting for my signal. A fucking signal that I cannot get through to them.”

  “So it’s just us, in here, with three, maybe more of these nasty bits of work after us.” I knotted my fingers together so hard my knuckles stretched and hurt.

  “Three?” His frown deepened.

  “I saw one walk past, outside. I should think he’s lurking about, waiting for us to step from the hotel.”

  “We go now.” He stood abruptly and took hold of my upper arm. He yanked me standing and pulled me to his side.

  Out of the corner of my eye I was aware that we were being watched by several people—some of whose attention was inconsequential, some I’d rather avoid.

  Kolya all but marched me from the hotel, and within seconds my hot breath plumed in front of my face as we hit the cold outside air.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist, holding me close, and set a fast pace back towards the Range Rover.

  I had to part walk, part jog to keep up with him, and clutched his jacket to maintain my balance on a patch of ice.

  We weren’t far from the school now, and I had an urge to rush from Kolya’s grip and snatch up Guilia. Okay, I’d be accused of kidnap, but if it saved her life, surely that was reason enough.

  And I am her mother.

  Almost as if hearing my thoughts, Kolya increased his hold on me.

  The Range Rover beeped to life, and he bundled me in, slamming the door.

  He shot around the front of the car, his hand sliding over the bonnet, his face sinister.

  The phone in my pocket vibrated.

  I couldn’t risk looking at it. Instead, I buckled up.

  Kolya got in the car and revved the engine. He spun it around on the slim street, narrowly missing a parked van and a lamppost, then roared up the gears past the school.

  “I think we’ve made rather a loud exit,” I said.

  “What difference does it make? They know where you are and who you are with.”

  “True.” I clutched the seat belt while he took a sharp bend at a hefty speed. “But if they follow…?”

  “Once I have called for backup, we will be in a better position.” He took a right up the small track that led to the glass-and-steel house. “It will only take them minutes to get to us and then being followed won’t be an issue; in fact, it will be to our advantage to have them all in one spot. They will be the sitting swans.”

  “You mean ducks. Sitting ducks.”

  “Whatever.”

  The interior of the car went dark; Kolya navigated through the forest section of the lane. The branches of the fir trees hung low, weighed down with thick clumps of snow. Beneath the branches the sunlight barely hit the ground, creating a creepy, still and shadowed terrain. I wondered what lived in there. Foxes? Hares? Wolves?

  Kolya stared into the rearview mirror.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Nothing, just checking we are not being followed.”

  “And are we?”

  “No.”

  “And that surprises you?”

  “A little.”

  The car jolted over a pothole in the snow.

  I reached for the dashboard to steady myself.

  Finally, the house came into view, rising from the trees on the side of the steep slope. The dark windows reflected the white of the surroundings, and a huge chunk of snow had slid several feet down the roof, revealing slate-grey tiles.

  “Open the garage,” he said, indicating the remote control that sat in the cup holder.

  With fumbling fingers, I did as he’d asked.

  The door slowly lifted, and we raced towards it. Sanctuary was only seconds away.

  When Kolya had reached the door and driven inside, I used the remote to shut it again.

  He turned off the engine.

  This time, instead of waiting for darkness to embrace us, Kolya leapt from the car. “Wait here.” He waggled his finger at me. “Do as I say.”

  “Yes.” I nodded. I was happy for him to go and do his thing. The car felt safe.

  He hesitated then pocketed the key of the Range Rover.

  “What, you really think I’m going to drive off?” I held up my palms. “I might not always make the best decisions but I like to think I don’t make suicidal ones.”

  He didn’t reply. Instead, he slung the key on the driver’s seat, a distinctive keyring attached of some kind of symbol—a white circle with a bright red St Andrew’s cross in the middle—then slammed the door and made for the internal entrance to the house.

  The moment he was out of sight, I pulled the phone from my pocket.

  I saw you leave. Where are you?

  I tapped in my reply.

  At the house in the woods. It’s just me and Kolya. Did you see anyone follow us?

  No.

  I puffed up my cheeks and blew out a sigh of relief. That was good news; it bought us some time.

  I opened the car door and stepped onto the concrete garage floor. I’d go into the house, with Kolya. It would be better than sitting here on my own in the semi-darkness.

  A piercing bang rang out, echoing around the walls.

  A gunshot.

  I froze.

  Adrenaline pumped into my system, the sound blasting around my brain.

  What the hell?

  I looked at the door to the house I’d been planning on going through. It didn’t seem like such a good idea now.

  Another shot.

  “Shit!” Instinctively, I ducked and wrapped my hands over my head. What the hell should I do? Who was firing? Was it Kolya, or was it the men from the café? Had Koyla been shot? Were they coming to shoot me or just kidnap me and hold me to ransom until my father paid up? Was the same thing happening at Guilia’s school—Dear God, no—and she was cowering just as I was?

  The image of that in my head all but broke my heart.

  Goddamn my father for this crap.

  Footsteps.

  A shout—in English.

  I hopped back into the car, sitting on the key, having forgotten it was there. I tugged it out then jabbed it into the ignition, the symbol swinging in time with my rapid heartbe
at. Grabbing the remote control for the garage door, I set it to open. I wasn’t hanging around like some bloody sitting duck or swan or whatever it was. It was time to get out of here.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The door seemed to take forever to rise, and with each slow inch, my heart rate sped even faster. With no idea how many men were out there, or in the house, I’d have to drive out pretty damn quickly or lose my life if those gunshots were anything to go by. It was a risk I had to take. God only knew how many people were in the house—how many would come barging into the garage any second and shoot me.

  That thought sobered me out of panic mode and into survival—I couldn’t die out here without making sure Guilia was safe first.

  Or without seeing her one last time.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror to get a bead on what, if anything, was happening behind me. I saw no one—but that didn’t mean they weren’t there, hanging around in the surrounding trees, waiting for me to do exactly what I was about to do. Was I playing straight into their hands? Probably. Should I stay inside the garage? Again, probably, but I knew myself. I’d got by on a wing and prayer before and would continue to do so.

  For how long, though?

  Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for my exit. I was doing this for Guilia, the one thing a mother should do for her child—ensuring she was safe. Seeing with my own eyes that she was safe. What they did to me after that, I didn’t care.

  Just let me see her before—

  I reversed, a quick arcing skid that had me facing the way out in no time. I scanned the area and, still seeing no one, shoved at the gear stick and plunged forward. A man darted into my path from nowhere, a black blur of spy-like clothing. I swerved to avoid him, but he dashed in my way again. I had no time to do anything but hit him. He smacked onto the bonnet with a sickening thud, arms hugging the damn thing as he tried to hold himself in place while I sped on. I fought the urge to vomit, not knowing whether to stop or keep going. He glanced up, staring at me through the windshield, his manic grin and bulging, crazy blue eyes giving me the answer I needed.

  I sped up and weaved the vehicle from side to side. He held on, shaking his head as though I were a fool to think I’d ever get rid of him. Then his brow exploded, the windshield spattered with a mist of blood, and the delayed sound of a gunshot rang out. I screamed, desperate to maintain my course, and checked the rearview. Koyla ran beside me, an assault rifle raised. The Range Rover jolted. I gave the road before me my attention to find the man had slid off the bonnet and that jolt had been—