But thirty yards is a long distance from which to hit someone with a pistol shot, especially in poor light, even if you’re a good shot. And The Wraith was definitely a good shot, as was clear by the closeness of the bullets as I crouched low, darted behind a tree, and then sprinted for the road, zigzagging as much as possible.
But she didn’t hit me.
And then the shots stopped.
As I reached the road, I saw a silver Audi estate round the corner a hundred yards away, driving towards me. It was Steve Brennan.
I broke into a mad dash towards him, stealing a look over my shoulder. I couldn’t see her. I kept running. The Audi was slowing down, now only thirty yards away. Once again I glanced over my shoulder, only this time I saw her, still within the tree line, running parallel to me but slightly behind, reloading her gun as she went. And she was moving fast too. Faster than I was.
After shoving in a fresh magazine, she again took aim and fired off three more rounds.
They flew wide and I kept running, gesticulating wildly for Brennan to stop the car and get into the passenger seat.
At first the other man looked confused. Then, as I came alongside the driver’s door, he seemed to get the message and clambered out of the way. I jumped inside, shoving him the rest of the way across. Thankfully the car was an automatic and Brennan had put it in park. Without missing a beat, I shoved it into reverse and slammed my foot down on the accelerator, just as The Wraith ran out into the road, barely ten yards ahead of us. ‘Keep your head down!’ I yelled as the car shot backwards down the road, turning the ten yards into twenty, then thirty.
The Wraith lowered her gun and took aim at the tyres, but before she could crack off a shot I spotted a gap in the trees and reversed the car into it, then slammed the gearstick into drive and drove back out, wheel-spinning as we went. In the rear-view mirror I could see her standing in the road, the gun down by her side, her posture one of defeat. Then she was off again into the trees.
A minute later I brought the car to a halt at the side of the road, still panting with adrenalin. ‘Nice to see you, Steve,’ I said with a smile, looking across to where Brennan was crouched in his seat with his hands over his head. ‘I think you’d better take the wheel now.’
30
‘I love you.’
It was less than three days since Ray Mason had re-entered Tina’s life, and now he was gone again, leaving chaos and trauma in his wake. It had taken her months to get over him, and she’d come so close. She was proud of the way she hadn’t slept with him the previous night. It would have been very easy. She’d slept with a couple of men this past year, but they’d been as much to forget him as anything else. But she knew if she’d done anything with Ray then it would have brought back all the memories of the intimacy and the desire – the closeness – that they’d experienced together, and that would have been too much to bear. It was why she’d fled the cottage today. Anything to avoid temptation.
And now, just with those three single-syllable words, he’d drawn her right back in, because the truth was she loved him right back, which was why she’d risked her life and her freedom for him – not once, but twice. And all to no avail, because he was gone. Very likely for ever. Leaving behind the body of her poor, innocent neighbour, Mrs West, a woman who’d always been so kind to Tina. She knew it wasn’t Ray’s fault. The responsibility lay with the woman who’d murdered her, and the people who’d paid for her services. But even so, if Ray hadn’t come back, none of this would have happened. The euphoria and excitement of earlier that day were long gone now, replaced with anger, grief, shock.
And fear too. Because Tina was scared, not only about the consequences of her actions in the last twenty-four hours, but also because she had no idea who might be coming for her next. Her family was safe for the time being, but they’d be back in two weeks, and the people ranged against her had long memories.
Yet even now she was protecting Ray by drawing the police away from him. She’d shaken off the patrol cars chasing her in the warren of back roads around her village and now, forty-five minutes later, at close to nine p.m., she was on a B road in Essex, just north of the town of Shenfield, some thirty miles away from her house. She had no doubt that by now the police would be tracking her car using the ANPR, and were doubtless closing in on her, which meant she didn’t have much time.
She was in open farmland with no one following her, or coming the other way. Slowing the car down, she opened the passenger window and flung the burner phone she’d been using to communicate with Ray into a hedge, before accelerating away. Then, pulling out her regular phone, she put it on hands-free and dialled 999.
As soon as the operator answered, Tina identified herself with her full name and address, and claimed she’d witnessed the murder of her next-door neighbour but had fled the scene, fearing for her own life. ‘I’m going to attend the nearest police station in the next hour. I’ll give my statement then.’
The operator tried to get more details but Tina ended the call. She was going to do things her way. She checked the satnav on the phone. She
