The Next Girl(Detective Gina Harte #1)(17)

Several minutes had gone by, and Hannah hadn’t replied. She was officially being ignored. She blew her nose and took a couple of painkillers. The ones she’d taken earlier had worn off and her head was thickening once again.

Grabbing the file she’d marked up as ‘Library Baby’, she began to pull out the scene photos and make her own notes on the call that had been logged.

Her phone beeped. Her heart threatened to fly out of her mouth as she grabbed it and read the message, but it was just another piece of PPI-related spam, destined for deletion. Hannah wasn’t going to answer. Then, a message from Briggs pinged up.

Can I call you later?





Where the hell was all this going? She knew they needed to talk at some point but it wasn’t going to be easy. They’d made a mistake, that’s all it was. It had meant nothing. Or had it?





Eleven





She drove home just after eleven, along the country lanes just outside Stratford-upon-Avon. The fog blanketing the fields had an eerie look about it in the moonlight. Her heart jumped as a fox darted in front of the car. The creature made its safe escape through a hedge before completely disappearing into the gloom. She reduced her speed to below thirty as she continued with the treacherous journey.

She pulled in off the country road and parked outside her little cottage. As she stepped out of the car, Ebony, her little black cat, ran over and began purring at her ankles. She followed the cat into the house and filled up the feeder. As Ebony crunched her food, Gina threw her coat onto the kitchen table and checked her phone. Still no text from Hannah. Her stomach flipped when she reread the last message from Briggs. She popped her phone in her pocket, turned off the light and headed upstairs.

Standing in front of the washing basket on the landing, she stripped off and threw her clothes at it before entering the bathroom. A damp smell hung in the air. She turned on the light. She badly needed a shower after getting home late the previous night and rushing out in the morning.

The bathwater from the night before stared back at her in all its murky glory. She’d been in such a hurry, she hadn’t even emptied the bath. She reached into the scummy water and yanked the plug. As it emptied, she sat on the toilet and watched the water slowly sinking away. Walking over to the washing basket, she pulled her phone from her trouser pocket and checked for messages. Nothing. It wasn’t as if she was expecting Hannah to respond, but she had hoped Briggs would call.

She logged onto Facebook and searched for her daughter. Her last status was a rant about how people say they love you but just continuously let you down and how they put themselves first all the time. Her friends’ comments were what really hurt. Gina felt a tear slip down her cheek as she read them. ‘Don’t waste your time on people who treat you badly’… ‘Why the hell do you put up with people like that in your life?’

She wasn’t selfish. Hannah had no idea why she wouldn’t fork out the money for Terry’s memorial service or why she always worked late. Her job was important and she needed it, she loved it. It kept her sane. And even if Hannah did know about her reasons for not wanting to pay, would she believe her? The treatment that Hannah’s father had forced on her had turned her into a fighter, and now she needed to continue fighting for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

The first domestic violence case she’d dealt with had been a success. The suspect had been found guilty and imprisoned because of the evidence she’d collected. She’d since thrown her life into making sure that other perpetrators didn’t get away with it.

The plughole gurgled as the last of the water escaped. She grabbed the untouched glass of red wine that was sitting next to her shampoo and took a swig, grimacing as the day-old liquid swirled around her mouth.

She dropped the phone onto a pile of towels and turned the shower on. She needed to wash away the dirt of the day, ready to begin again. As she lathered up her hair, her phone began to ring. She turned the shower off and stepped out of the bath, snatching the phone in her soapy hands.

‘Sorry it’s late,’ Briggs said.

‘Don’t be sorry,’ she replied. She didn’t know what to say next. Should she mention the previous week? Was he trying to forget it? It had been easy to forget – until she’d been in his office earlier that day. ‘Any news on the case?’

‘No,’ he replied.

Her teeth began to chatter as the coldness of the bathroom enveloped her soaking body. She reached for her bathrobe, sat on the toilet seat and pulled the material over her knees.

‘About the other week, sir—’

‘Sir, sir, sir. Just call me Chris when we’re not at work.’

‘Are we not at work?’

‘You make it hard, don’t you? If you want me to end this call, just say. I’m not into staff harassment.’

‘Sorry. I’m not good at this.’ Gina shivered again. What did she want? It was one night, not a relationship, not even planned, but the thought of it made her smile. ‘I’m glad you called.’

‘That’s a start. About last week, I don’t think it should become common knowledge, you know what I mean?’

Through her shivering, she felt her face flush with an uncomfortable hotness. Ebony ran up the stairs, licking her legs as she wrapped her body around Gina’s dripping ankles, depositing fine black hairs all over her feet. ‘Me neither. I won’t say anything, no need to worry about that.’