The Next Girl(Detective Gina Harte #1)
Carla Kovach
Prologue
Saturday, 14 December 2013
Same height, same hair colour. She could almost pass for Deborah from behind. But as the woman turned, he could tell she was no more than a cheap imitation. Her leggings were riding up between her butt cheeks, and she was wearing a short puffy jacket and spiky heels, further going to prove she was no Debbie. His Debbie wouldn’t be seen out looking this trashy. She looked up and down the main hill through the town centre before walking over to his car. He pointed to the right and pulled over beside the chip shop, past the busy bar. Redditch was certainly alive with people, all partying the night away in the run-up to Christmas. She dutifully followed, as if in a money-induced trance – or was it drugs?
He’d only ever come looking for company once before, but it had been a disaster and long before Debbie had entered his life. He’d only wanted to talk, but that woman had been corruptive, trying to encourage him to do things his mother would never approve of. He’d been willing up to a point and that point was his release. She couldn’t have it.
The woman tapped on the window and winked as she spoke in an Eastern European accent. Where was she from, he wondered – Romania, maybe, or Bulgaria? Now she was close, he could see her dark roots and the slight wonkiness of a nose that he guessed had once been broken. She wasn’t his Debbie, but he could pretend.
The woman smiled. ‘Looking for something special to end the evening?’ she asked. He glanced in the wing mirror and noticed a group of drunken revellers jokingly pushing and shoving at the entrance to the bar, not one of them taking any notice of what was going on just down the road. As they shivered in their short-sleeved shirts and Santa hats, he turned his attention back to the woman. ‘Well? I haven’t got all night, mister. It’s cold out here.’ She exhaled a stream of white mist into the icy air and began shuffling on the spot to keep warm.
‘Get in.’
‘You know how to treat women. Is good job I know how to treat a man.’ She licked her teeth and stared into his eyes. He looked away. ‘First you show me the cash, and after, I get in.’ The woman stumbled alongside the car, banging into it as she made her way around. She opened the passenger door and leaned in. ‘Cash first, mister.’
He took his wallet from the centre console and held up two ten-pound notes.
‘Cheap, but I can work with. Don’t expect brilliant.’ She filled his airways with the smell of cheap perfume as she fell into the car, snatching the cash as she landed on the seat. ‘Okay, not too far.’
‘I need to go somewhere quiet. Can we go for a walk – like a date?’
‘Quiet is good. You didn’t expect me to see to you here, did you?’
‘Of course not.’ He placed the car into gear and began to drive. See to him, that’s all she was going to do. He wanted so much more. He needed to talk, to think, to feel something – anything.
His mind was a whirr with what his mother would say. ‘Going with dirty girls makes you a dirty boy. My boy is better than that.’
‘Take a left, just down there. There’s quiet car park, by the chemist. Pull in there.’
He began to tremble as he passed the illuminated fountain and took a left as instructed. The road was still too public. Three women wearing reindeer antlers staggered past. It wasn’t right. He needed to be somewhere else, somewhere peaceful where they wouldn’t be disturbed. Maybe where he walked their dog, Rosie, along the river, up by the locks of Marcliff, just past Bidford. His heart quickened as he passed the chemist and put his foot down to reach the ring road.
‘Stop. Pull over,’ the woman said. ‘Where the hell you taking me? Stop.’
He did an emergency stop at the side of the road, trembling as the car jerked. ‘Have I done wrong?’
‘You drive too far. I say the chemist and you do this.’ The woman opened the door.
‘Wait. I just want some company, that’s all. I’ve had a bad day. You see, my mother died today and I don’t want to be alone. I have no one else.’ In his mind at least, his mother was dead. Since her diagnosis, she’d been walking around like a carbon copy of her former self. He shivered. He’d just told this woman that his mother had died today. What kind of person did that make him? ‘Sorry, Ma,’ he whispered.
‘I’m sorry. Must be hard for you.’
He stared into the lamplight ahead without blinking – just a little longer and there might be a tear. As predicted, his eyes watered. He sniffed and wiped his eye on his sleeve. ‘I miss her. Please don’t leave me alone.’ He was too good, tears were now falling, one after another. Even his nose began to fill up as he inhaled the frosty air.
‘Look. I will come for drive but you must pay me now and I want to be back here in a couple of hours. I know you’re upset but I am not head doctor. Two hundred and I am yours. I give you distraction or you can talk. I listen, whatever you want.’
‘Thank you.’ He took her cold, bony hand and kissed it. ‘Thank you for being so kind.’
‘Money?’ She held her shaky hand out as he opened his wallet.
‘Half now, half after.’ She nodded as he passed one hundred pounds to her. She folded the notes up and zipped them into her pocket.