The Next Girl(Detective Gina Harte #1)(78)

Too precious. She barely knew the man, but apparently to him, she was everything. She was precious. And that meant he needed to trap her in some hellhole of a room.

‘Jeff, please, I have to go home. We won’t say any more about what has happened this evening. Just open the door and let me go,’ she spluttered.

He drew back. Spit bubbles emerged from the gaps in his teeth as he exhaled. ‘I’ve done all this for you, so that we can be together, and this is how you repay me. Don’t you dare say a word about going home or I will make sure you never speak another word, ever. This is your home. Do you hear me?’

‘Jeff—’ Her sentence was cut off as he punched her hard in the face. Then he stood and marched towards the door, taking the oil lamp with him. The door closed and she was left in darkness, sobbing into the night, hoping that she’d soon get to leave. But it was only the beginning.



* * *



She gasped for air and opened her eyes. Something was jabbing into her back and tongue was furred. She grimaced as she realised she was in the boot of a car.

Her hands were bound behind her back but her feet were loose. The car clunked as they went over a humpback bridge. A horn honked and the car jerked to the left and skidded a little.

She stretched her legs out to try and brace herself against the side of the car. Where was he taking her? She reached for the object that was jabbing her in the back, felt its form with her fingertips. It was solid and thin and had a handle. A screwdriver. Her hands were bound with what felt like duct tape.

The car turned sharply right and she let go of the screwdriver. Maybe she should try to kick the brake light out and shove her foot through. Someone had to see her. She brought her foot out towards the corner of the car and kicked. As she stretched, the pain in her stomach and groin seared through her body. Sweat dripped down her face, trickling around her left ear. She kicked again and screamed. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her stomach burned. The light wasn’t budging.

He took another turn and she felt the tyres bumping over a rough track. He was off the main road. Was he taking her to another rural location? She gasped and yelled as she kicked the light again. She reached around for the screwdriver, felt the handle and grabbed it. She had to get out. She had to hurt him, kill him, whatever it took. He was taking her to her end.

She cried as she remembered begging him to end it. Thinking that Luke no longer wanted her and that her children may have already found her replacement had been too much to bear, but now the notion of an end seemed too final. No one would ever know what had happened to her. She might be on the missing persons register forever. And her baby, what would become of her baby? Would her mother look after her little one? Would she end up in care? She would never know her real mother.

She sobbed as the pain intensified, but she battled through it. She managed to turn the screwdriver around and then inwards and began jabbing at the tape. As she gasped for breath in the dark box that was the boot, her vision began to blur. She needed to calm down, take a deep breath and think carefully, without panicking.

The car rolled up on a gravelled surface. She held her breath and listened to the ducks quacking outside. They were by water. Why had he brought her to the water?

The car door opened and then slammed. She heard each of his footsteps dig into the gravel as he whistled ‘You Are My Sunshine.’ Her heart almost stopped. She wanted to yell and scream, but instead she remained still. Was it best to pretend to still be drugged? Had he heard her crying?

She lay there with closed eyes. Whatever he had planned, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. He stopped whistling. She held her breath.





Fifty-Five





‘We’re just at Gittins’ farm. The guy has carers in most of the day – he can barely get out of his chair,’ Jacob said on the other end of the phone.

‘It doesn’t matter anymore. You need to get to the Benson farm immediately. Julia Benson is Wall’s mother. We’ve called it in, she’s dead,’ Gina replied as she caught her breath and continued running along the bumpy path, towards the barn. ‘I’m just checking out the barn.’ A gust of wind howled through the bushes, propelling a twig towards Gina’s face. She moved to the side just as it passed her. An almighty storm was brewing.

‘Wait for backup to arrive.’

‘It’s okay, Wyre is here. Besides, there are fresh tyre tracks on the road, leading out. I think he’s gone out and Deborah might be in the barn. Just get here and make it snappy.’

There was only one entrance to the barn: an old wooden door that was slightly ajar. There were no windows. Mature oak trees stood tall behind it, stretching their bare branches towards the shabby walls. The tip of a large birch looked like it was ready to burst the rain cloud above. Gina shivered as a bitter gust almost pushed her back.

‘What if they’re not his tyre tracks?’ said Wyre. ‘It could’ve been a post van. He could be in there now.’

‘More of a reason to get in there and get Deborah out. We can’t wait for the others. If anything happens to her and we could’ve prevented it, I’ll never forgive myself. You could wait here and let backup know where I am.’ Gina stared into Wyre’s anxious eyes and felt her own apprehension reflecting back at her. Wyre’s neatly pinned hair had escaped and was now blowing freely in the breeze. She wiped a thick strand from her mouth.