Echoes of Guilt: An addictive, fast-paced thriller with a nail-biting twist by Rob Sinclair

Author:Rob Sinclair [Sinclair, Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vesey Manor Publishing
Published: 2024-11-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Just days ago Ana had been in Liverpool. Supposedly the start of her new life. Full of hope, even if that hope had been as brittle as glass. That time in the North, however fragile, had been six glorious months, out from under Victor’s sight and living her life as a free, ‘normal’ woman in another country, working in a job that utilised her intelligence and her skills.

Now look at where she was. Back by his side. In some ways she wished she was eighteen-year-old Ana again. The Ana who’d been duped into coming to England on the promise of a better life. That life had been a nightmare, but at least, even as she’d been abused, her conscience had been clear. Now she was nothing more than Victor’s wretched accomplice, actively responsible for the misery of others.

She watched from the window as the two men outside heaved Maria’s wrapped body into the back of their waiting van. Moments later they drove off silently into the night. To where, Ana had no clue, though Victor’s haunting words continued to swirl in her mind as she got to work.

Alex hadn’t stayed in the house much longer after that, though Victor remained somewhere – Ana could hear his raised voice below. He’d said he’d go to get some help for Ana in cleaning up the mess, but so far she was alone, on her hands and knees scrubbing away at the wall. The carpet was beyond saving, she’d already decided. She’d told Victor that, though so far he wasn’t listening.

‘You only need to do the basics,’ he’d said to her. ‘Surface clean while I arrange the proper job.’

Spoken like a true expert. Which was all the more horrifying.

And that was the main reason why, after several minutes alone, she stood up, took off the rubber gloves, and moved over to the chair in the corner – the blood-free corner – where her coat was neatly folded.

She performed the by now almost ritual-like process of unfolding the coat, finding the seam and tentatively and expectantly reaching in with her two fingers to draw the device out. She powered it up. Held her breath as she did so. Continued to listen to the voices and other sounds from below and above.

The door behind her was closed. She got up and moved over to it and peeked out into the hallway.

Noone there.

Then she delicately typed in three numbers as her heart raced in her chest.

Could she really do this?

She only let out the held-in-breath when the operator answered the call.

Too late. She’d couldn’t hang up now.

‘Police,’ Ana said, as quietly as she possibly could.

Then she gave the details, as blandly as she could. Body in a van. The registration number. Two men. Dangerous.

‘And please, let Detective Stephens know. West Midlands Police.’

Then she hung up.

Her chest heaved as adrenaline surged at her act of treachery. She turned the phone off. Footsteps thudded outside the room. Two sets, Ana thought, coming up the stairs.

She jumped up,put

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