Free Hustlers by Claire Chilton Page B

drink lots of water when you get home. Where do you want the driver to take you?”
    “Calerville.” She pointed down the road in the rough direction of the small, rustic village just a mile away from the estate. “Jus’ down the road. Home, mmm.” She flopped back into backseat and closed her eyes.
    “Take her to Calerville.” She heard Bill say, followed by a sweeping sound.
    She opened one eye and saw him pay the driver.
They’re paying for my getaway car!
“Thanks, Billy,” she murmured.
    “Take care, miss.” Bill closed the door and tapped the roof of the cab. It rolled down the driveway, leaving the house behind it.
    Ellie sat up after a couple of seconds and cracked open the car window, enjoying the fresh air that was rushing through it.
I made it.
    “Don’t let her get away!” a familiar voice echoed behind her.
    She glanced back to see Jacob hanging out of his bedroom window, holding what appeared to be the broken tablet in his hands. She was too far away to see his face, but she could guess that it looked pissed.
    She bit her lip as a grin spread across her face.
That’ll teach you to treat women like toys.
    She leaned over to the driver. “Can we go to Bakerston instead? There’s a party I need to get to, and if you get me there fast, there’s an extra ten quid in it for you.”
    “Sure thing.” The driver nodded without glancing back at her.
    She flopped back in her seat as the driver slammed his foot on the gas and took a sharp left turn out of the estate. She checked the back window for following cars, but the road was empty.
    Hawkins Hall was surrounded by tiny villages, giving her the perfect opportunity to send pursuers in the wrong direction. She admired the quaint thatched cottages of Bakerston as they passed by.
Maybe one day, when this nightmare is over, I’ll buy a house like this.
    She smiled when her car came into view. The shabby black Astra looked out of place on the idyllic street. She’d parked outside of an unlit cottage that had a for sale sign in front of it. “Just here is perfect,” she said, pulling some notes out of her coat pocket and handing twenty pounds to the driver. “Keep the change.”
    He nodded. “Have a good night.”
    She climbed out of the backseat and shut the door, then paused to watch the cab speed off into the night. She waited a beat for him to be gone before rushing to her car. When she got to the car door, she paused.
Keys, where are my keys?
    She frowned.
In my bag.
    Her eyes widened.
Where is my fucking bag?
    She closed her eyes and rubbed her brow.
No, no, no. You idiot!
She knew exactly where her bag was. It was on Jacob Hawkins’s bed.
    She would have to berate herself later. At the moment, her most pressing concern was getting far, far away from Hawkins Hall. Fast.
    She walked to the back of her car and knelt down, pretending to be inspecting the tire. She pulled a slim jim out from the clamp under her bumper.
Dad always said I should be prepared.
She slipped the tool up her sleeve and headed back to the driver’s door. She glanced around at the cottages that were lit, relieved to see no prying eyes watching her from the glowing windows. She slipped the slim jim down the side of the window and jimmied the lock until it clicked.
    As soon as she slid into the driver’s seat, she opened the glove compartment and pulled out the spare set of keys she’d duct-taped to the roof of it. She sighed and leaned back in her seat as she started the ignition. All the adrenaline that had been pumping through her veins tonight seemed to evaporate, and she felt bone-tired. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to find her inner calm.
    She jerked in her seat when the phone on her dashboard buzzed. She glanced at the screen.
Jimmy, you slow arse!
    She picked up the phone and held it to her ear. “Better late than never, is it?”
    “Jesus, woman. Can’t I take a crap in peace these days?” The familiar tones of her best friend’s northern accent