Watching Her: A Gripping Thriller Novel With A Twist

by Emmy Ellis

  “Yes.”

  “And Guilia, she is also outside?”

  “Tomorrow is a school day. She will continue her normal routine.”

  My stomach rolled, the fluid sloshing against the sides. The very thought of these mean bastards who were out to hurt us turning up at her school, looking through the fence at the playground, and hunting her out with their nasty, hate-filled eyes…their guns, ripped at my heart.

  Kolya placed his hand on my shoulder. “I am sorry.”

  “I…I understand. And the sooner these people show themselves, the sooner this will all be over, right?” I tried to summon courage, but it wasn’t easy.

  “Right.” He stroked my arm, past my elbow, my wrist, and to my hand. He brought my knuckles to his mouth.

  I stared into his eerie eyes.

  “I will see you in the morning,” he said, suddenly releasing me. “Sleep in the room to the left of the fireplace. You will be perfectly safe.”

  “And maybe you will come to me?” I said quietly.

  He shook his head. “I cannot.”

  “It was worth a try.”

  A small smile tugged at his mouth.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I like that you want me.”

  “What’s not to want?” I walked to the bedroom, hoped he might follow me.

  But of course he didn’t, and half an hour later, I let myself drift into my dreams.

  And they were strange dreams. Kolya was in them, so was Sutton. Sutton was as dark as Kolya was white and doused in shadows. Kolya seemed vulnerable, delicate somehow, yet I knew he wasn’t, not really. But even so I was scared for him. I knew what Sutton was capable of.

  Sutton smiled and beckoned me. I went to him, my feet cold and bare, stomping through thick snow. When I reached him, he wrapped me in his arms, told me my father was waiting for me, and it would all be fine.

  I turned to say goodbye to Kolya. He was holding Guilia, my little girl, and she was as white as Kolya and wearing a fur-hooded coat.

  Twisting from Sutton’s embrace, I rushed for her. I’d never leave her. Not again. If she was with Kolya, that was where I needed to be. I tried to run, my legs thick and heavy and not obeying my commands. I shouted, called her name, hated that the snow dragged me down, clamping around my freezing feet. Panic warred inside me. What was happening? The snow was covering me, filling my clothes, my ears, pressing on my cheeks.

  Again I shouted out. Tried to scream, my lungs bursting with the effort.

  “Claudine, wake up.”

  A warm hand on my arm.

  “Wake up. You are dreaming.”

  I opened my eyes and stared up at Kolya. My breaths were coming rapidly, and my body, flooded with adrenaline, ached and twitched.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his pale face almost glowing in the darkness.

  I nodded. “Yes, just a nightmare.” I glanced at the door. “Is everything all right out there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then lie with me, please. I don’t want to be alone.” I shivered.

  He hesitated. Then, “For a few minutes.”

  I’d take what I could.

  He stretched out, on top of the covers, and pulled me close.

  I nestled my face against his shoulder, clutching his T-shirt and breathing in the scent of his skin. I hated the fact that I needed his strength, that I felt weak. It was Guilia who had done it. She’d become my kryptonite; she’d taken away my inherent don’t-give-a-fuck approach to life. I’d always been a risk-taker, a go-getter, live for the moment. Carpe Diem.

  But now? Now there was so much to lose. Taking risks, gambling with things I loved, it didn’t seem nearly as appealing.

  * * * *

  The next day dawned bright, though the sparkling layer of ice on the snow gave away the fact the temperature was bitterly cold.

  Kolya made eggs and toast and hummed while he cooked.

  I showered and put on my jeans, carefully checking the tracker was still in place.

  It was.

  After we’d eaten, Kolya set two guns on the table, next to the teapot.

  I stared at them, their shape alien yet familiar.

  Kolya certainly seemed familiar with the hardwear. Carefully, he checked them over, holding each one up as though taking aim out of the window. The clunky, metallic sounds of them as he worked grated on my nerves. I was glad he had guns but hoped they wouldn’t have to be used.

  Maybe those bad men wouldn’t come here at all.

  Perhaps they had no idea that Guilia and I were in Austria.

  “Are you ready?” Kolya asked.

  “For what?”

  “Our walk.” He frowned. “In the village. We need to make you visible.”

  I swallowed a bitter taste, and a coil of nervousness tightened in my belly.

  “Go and get your coat and boots.” He shoved one gun into the waistband of his trousers and the other into the chest pocket of a leather jacket hanging on the back of the chair. “And I will move the car from the garage.”

  I went into the bedroom and put on my outdoor clothes. There were gloves in the pocket of the coat, so I pulled them on, too.

  Within a minute we were stepping out into the crisp air. Our surroundings were incredibly beautiful. A scene from a Christmas card, a setting for a fantastical winter Disney movie.

  Yet I hardly saw that when we walked to the car.

  Instead, I checked the snow for footprints that might have appeared in the night and examined the gloom beneath the fir tree branches, searching for signs of life.

  Nothing.

  Kolya opened the passenger door and indicated for me to get in.

  I did.

  He strode around the back, and I studied the snowy patch of ground to my right. There was a stony structure with a tiny wooden roof, a well perhaps, that was doused in thick snow. Except for one section, on the farthest side. There was dent in the otherwise perfectly flat surface of the snow. As though a hand had been placed there.

  Kolya got into the car, the suspension dipping a little with his weight.

  I opened my mouth to tell him about the missing snow but shut it again. What if it had been Sutton? Maybe he’d been around last night searching for me and had rested against the well while he’d studied the house?

  But what if it had been the men who sought to harm me and Guilia?

  We headed downhill, and I studied Kolya’s profile. His paleness was his overriding feature, but looking beyond that it was easy to see he was a handsome man with the kind of face that meant business.

  I decided to keep my words hidden. What did it matter when we were no longer at the glass house anyway? And besides, we were going out hunting for the very people who were hunting me.

  And it seemed the hunting ground was to be a coffee shop. Kolya drove us through the quaint village of St Wolfgang, which hugged the side of a huge iced-over lake. Here, now it was daylight, the houses, shops, and restaurants really could have graced the cover of a chocolate box. They were predominantly wooden with pitched, snow-covered roofs. Many had balconies, and the gardens were dotted with towering fir trees decorated with huge festive baubles.

  Christmas.

  Strange how that meant nothing to me now when it was so important to everyone else.

  Kolya was quiet and serious. I wished he’d lighten up a bit; his dour mood dragged on my nerves.

  We drove past a school. It wasn’t playtime, the doors and gates shut to the snow-free tarmac, but still I peered through the high black railings at the windows, wondering which room Guilia was in.

  How strange to be so close to her yet so far.

  All too soon we’d passed the school, and Kolya parked up.

  “Stay by me,” he said.

  “Am I trying to avoid being kidnapped or shot?” I put on my hat and yanked my zip to my chin.

  “Avoid both?” He frowned.

  “Good plan.”

  “But mainly they will want to take you. How much us
e are you to them dead? No gambling power.”

  “Do you mean bargaining power?”

  “Yes, that.” He opened the door and stepped out, letting in a bluster of cold air.

  I climbed out, too—climbed being about right given how big the Range Rover was.

  “This way.” He indicated over his shoulder, in the direction opposite the school. I wasn’t sure if I was sad or glad about that so obeyed.

  He stayed near to me, and although he ambled along, there was a tension about him that I hadn’t noticed before.

  The pavements were clear of snow, though every ten or so paces a pile sat at the kerbside, collecting dirt from the road. St Wolfgang wasn’t deserted—there were people going about their daily business, weaving in and out of small shops and carrying bags of purchases.

  A craft shop selling gifts—small rocking horses, model houses, and lace—caught my eye. I paused. Kolya stopped next to me, and I looked at a little fat doll, one of those that would have another inside it, then another, and were shaped like eggs. Did Guilia have one of those already? Perhaps from this very shop?

  “I’m going in.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  There were even more dolls inside. A whole display unit of them. Their smiling faces appealed to me, and their stout bodies.

  I reached for one that was black and red then pulled it in half. Sure enough, inside was another identical doll, her long, painted eyelashes whisking off to the sides. I shook it, hearing the rattle of yet another.

  Suddenly I wanted it. Had to have it. I needed a souvenir when all this crap was over. I needed something to remember this moment of being so near to my daughter.

  “Do you have any euros?” I asked Kolya.

  Without hesitation, he tugged his wallet out and flipped it open. “Yes. How much do you want?”

  “Er…” I turned the doll over. “Forty, please.”

  He handed me the money without saying a word. I was grateful for that. I didn’t want to explain my need for the toy. The emotions behind it.

  A round woman with overly rouged cheeks and a beaming smile, not unlike the doll, took the money. She wrapped my purchase in pale-green tissue paper, just one sheet, and applied a sticker to it that had the name of the shop on it.

  “Danke,” I said, pocketing the package then stepping back out onto the street.

  Kolya followed then stopped next to me, his arm brushing my shoulder. He drew his phone out, studied the screen for a second, then typed out a message.

  A tingle went up my spine, a sense of being watched. I held my breath, scrutinised the shop window. But not the gifts—I concentrated on the reflection. I scanned the area behind me, a hotel it seemed, with a deep, dark entrance decorated with fir branch swags.

  A man stood there, in the shadows, and he stared straight at me.

  I blew out a breath and held his eye contact.

  Sutton had found me.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sutton looked a little different to when I’d last seen him. Black, square-lensed glasses sat on his nose, and his beard was thicker. A dark woollen beanie hat covered his hair, rendering him unrecognisable to most, I’d imagine, but not to me. He was bundled up in winter clothing, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. His breaths puffed out, coiling upwards.

  I gave him a nod, trying to let him know that I wanted to speak with him. I could only hope he’d understand the gesture.

  “I’m thirsty,” I said, reluctantly turning away from Sutton’s reflection and facing Kolya. “There’s a hotel over the road, look. A sign outside says they have a public coffee shop.” I’d learnt the basics of the language when I’d last been here. I leant closer to him. “My throat’s dry. Must be the fear of being out in the open, in danger,” I whispered. What a lie. It wasn’t fear I was feeling but excitement. “Can we go there?”

  Kolya slid his phone into his pocket and frowned. “It is maybe too soon for us to be inside having coffee. We are supposed to be outside for a while, staring through shop windows and being seen, walking around a little more.”

  “What does it matter where we are? If we’re being watched, we can be monitored just as well inside the hotel. Whoever is following us—if they even are—will follow us in there or at least keep an eye on us from out here.”

  “You have a good point.” He nodded. “Let us go there then.”

  He took hold of my elbow to guide me across the street. My stomach rolled as I scanned the hotel’s façade. Thank God, Sutton was gone and Kolya wouldn’t ever have to know he’d been there. Yet if Sutton had gone-gone, my mission was going to be pointless, the coffee stale on my tongue, my hopes diminished.

  We stepped inside the building. Scents of coffee and various pastries smacked into me, bringing to mind better times in London’s winter, where meeting friends for brunch was the norm. Oh, the life I had lived then, oblivious…

  To the left of the warm, modern reception area was the café, sectioned off by a mahogany glass-panelled door with a grey wooden shabby-chic sign above it: COFFEE HEAVEN.

  “In here,” I said, tugging him along, desperate to see if Sutton was inside.

  He wasn’t.

  Kolya allowed a waitress to show us to a small table in the far-right corner of the packed room. From there, if we sat with our backs to the wall, we’d see outside onto the street, plus the entrance. As predicted, Kolya made sure we sat exactly that way, and he scanned the vicinity several times then picked up a menu. I did the same.

  I swallowed and studied what specialty coffees were on offer.

  “Would you like a pastry, too?” Kolya asked.

  “I don’t mind.” I smiled. Would the food get past the lump in my throat? I wanted to see Sutton again. Needed to. “You order. I’m off to the loo.” I stood, ready to waltz away.

  “Loo?” His fingers loosened, and the menu slid onto the table. He shot out a hand and gripped my wrist. “Where are you going?”

  “The ladies’ room.” I rolled my eyes and jabbed a hand onto my hip. “Or isn’t that allowed? I suppose you have to go with me?”

  “But the ladies’ room is not in here. It is in the foyer.” He grimaced. His mouth looked hard, his stare unforgiving.

  He didn’t trust me?

  I tilted my head as though confused. “And?”

  “I would have to stand outside and wait. We have only just got this table.” His eyes darted around. “And there are no others. It is busy in here.”

  He didn’t want me out of his sight, I got that, but I had to speak to Sutton. Okay, he might not even be in the hotel—he may have walked away up the street after I’d spotted him outside—but I had to try.

  Maybe you should have waited. You’re too eager to leave the room. Calm down.

  “Okay, maybe I can hold it for a moment.” I sat again. “But not for much longer than that. I have,” I winced, “a dodgy tummy.”

  “I do not understand this dodgy,” he muttered. “You say strange things.”

  “I have a sore tummy. Do you know what I’m trying to say now? I might need the toilet very quickly.”

  “Ah. I see. No matter. You must stay here.”

  “Even if I shit myself?” I whispered.

  The frustration of not being able to do what I wanted, when I wanted, gathered inside me, a mass of annoyance that would likely curdle at some point and make me say even more sour things. I couldn’t let that happen. Kolya was on my side and was only doing what was best for me.

  He gave me a look, one that parents offered their naughty children. “I will order,” he said.

  He waved for the waitress and dealt with her, so I gazed around. Sutton was most definitely not in here. I glanced at the door, trying to see into the far reaches of the foyer. The main entrance of the hotel flounced open, and a flurry of snowflakes skittered inside, dancing midair then falling to settle on the coarse brown mat. Following them was a pair of men’s boots, the soles caked in snow. I raised my eye line to jeans, then a black puffy jacke
t. Thicker beard. Black-rimmed glasses.

  Sutton glanced through the café door glass then jerked his head to his right. So I’d been correct in sensing I needed to go to the ladies’. But he didn’t go in there—he went into the men’s.

  “Really can’t hold it, sorry!” I moved away from the table, clutching my tummy while the waitress was still attending to Kolya.

  I dashed across the foyer and entered the men’s room in a whirlwind of breathlessness, darting my gaze to the urinals. The space was empty, so I walked over to the cubicles, clicking my shoes loudly on the tile. One stall was closed, the handicapped, the other two smaller ones open.

  “It’s me,” I said.

  The door swung wide, and Sutton in all his disguised glory flung out a hand and tugged me inside. I stopped short of pressing myself flush against him, and he slid the lock into place behind me.

  “What the hell were you doing, going off with him?” he snapped in an antsy tone.

  My mouth dropped open. “I didn’t have much bloody choice, did I?” My whisper was so raw it hurt my throat. “Seeing as you buggered off outside, down to the jetty, or next door, I don’t know, running some errand and left me to him. Some protector you are.”

  That was snide, but he was putting all this on me, and it wasn’t my fault.

  “I was protecting you by going outside. I was dealing with some unsavoury gang members who hadn’t got the message to stay away.” He gripped my wrists and brought my hands up between us, holding them beneath his chin. “I thought… Fuck, I thought…”

  The look in his eyes was difficult to work out. Was he angry?

  “You thought what?” I asked.

  “I thought you’d gone forever,” he said. “That he’d taken you and I wouldn’t be able to find you again. My orders…” He sighed. “You have to stay with him.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes. Intel came in. He’s a good man. Not who I thought. He’ll keep you safe.”

  “But what about you? What, are you just going to walk away now?”

  “Not walk away, no.” He shook his head. “I’ll watch over Guilia. An extra pair of eyes.”