The Next Girl(Detective Gina Harte #1)(82)

‘I’ve been trying to call you. You were spot on about the water. They’ve only gone and found her!’

‘What?’ Gina replied. He hung up and she watched as he ran towards her, past the house, past the two officers until he reached her side, gasping to get his breath back.

‘Tell me then,’ she said.

‘I just got the call this second, as we pulled in. Deborah Jenkins is alive. A man saw some commotion up at the fisheries. He was there, trying to catch carp, and called in as he’d seen a man drowning a woman in the pond. He’d been scared and waited behind a tree until our perp drove off. Thankfully he knew a bit of first aid and managed to revive Deborah. He said he’d heard the man shouting that they’d all be together soon or something like that,’ Jacob said as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

Gina grabbed the barn door, almost stumbling as she took in the news. ‘Well blow me over with a gale – literally,’ she said, as a twig flew past her head. She began to shake as Jacob’s words sank in. O’Connor finally caught them up, and Gina looked his way. ‘Get a unit over to the Jenkinses’ house now. He’s going for the baby. If he said they’d all be together soon, he means the baby too.’

‘On it now, guv.’

‘We need everything in this barn and house sealed off.’ Wyre picked up her phone and made the call. ‘We need to get to the Jenkinses’ house. Now.’ Jacob nodded. ‘

We’ll take your car,’ he said as they hurried down the mud path towards the house. The dog ran after them, wagging its tail and yapping all the way to the car. It jumped up Gina’s legs and cocked its head to the side as she reached the car. She stroked the dog’s head before opening the door.

‘Call the RSPCA to deal with the dog and then message Briggs. Tell him what’s happened,’ Gina said as she accelerated the car down the muddy path, past the gate and onto the country road. ‘Shit!’ she yelled as she sped over the humpback bridge. ‘Call Luke Jenkins. Tell him to lock the doors and not answer to anyone. Tell him we’ll be ten minutes.’ She put her foot down as they turned onto the main road, heading straight to Cleevesford.





Fifty-Nine





Luke flicked through the channels on the television, settling on a morning news show. Then he walked over to the window and stared out. He didn’t really feel like celebrating Christmas, but he had made a bit of an effort for Max and Heidi. The children wanted the tree up and Cathy had been excited to decorate it with them. Devina was sitting in the kitchen, making notes whilst Isobel slept. She had been concerned about the planned visit given what had been happening, but he and Cathy had put up a good argument. They needed this time to bond with Isobel.

The smell of smoke still filled the hallway. Luckily, on the night of the fire, the kitchen and living room doors had been closed, but the hallway was in a state. A cleaning crew had come by and sorted out the worst of the mess. The temporary front door was okay for now, but it would need replacing when he had the chance to deal with it.

He’d never normally be at home alone in the week. Today was an exception, as Cathy had seemed tired and he’d been given compassionate leave to sort out the mess that was his life. He’d insisted that Cathy have a lie-in and come over at lunchtime instead. They’d argued the morning after the fire when Luke had decided to return home. He’d never argued with Cathy before.

He clenched his fists as he fought the urge to slam them on the windowsill, knowing Devina might hear. The last thing he needed was children’s services deciding that he was unstable. For his and Cathy’s sakes, they needed Isobel in their lives.

He turned to the fireplace and picked up the photo of Debbie. He missed her so much. He held the photo close to his heart. His thoughts flashed back to the moment he’d shared with Brooke at the window. They’d been good friends, and he was sure they’d have been happy as lovers. In that moment, he’d almost been ready to move on with his life, resigning himself to the thought that Debbie was never coming home. How had a few days made such a difference?

The wind howled through the shrubs in his front garden, dislodging the bare branches and sending them hurtling into the sky, and the side gate banged against the wall. ‘Bloody thing,’ he said, placing the photo on the windowsill and hurrying out of the temporary front door. He walked around the charred carpet that had been dumped beside the house. Rain trickled down his face as he fought with the breeze to close the gate. He was sure he heard the phone ringing. Shivering, he ran back in through the front door, but the phone had stopped.

‘Luke,’ Brooke called as she ran down the road, into his garden. ‘Can we talk?’ She brushed her tangled hair from her face. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘I’m sorry, Brooke, but I can’t… I need some time.’

‘Just a quick coffee, please?’ A tear escaped down her cheek. He wanted to hold her but he couldn’t. So much had happened. He pushed the temporary door open and showed her in. He ushered her into the living room and closed the door.

‘I heard what happened. You should have called me. I could’ve helped.’

‘There’s nothing anyone can do. Besides, we’re fine.’

She wiped her face. ‘I thought I could handle this, but I can’t. I think about you all the time. I miss you so much. I miss our chats, I miss the kids. Joe misses them.’ She turned to face him, her gaze meeting his. He reached out and wiped the tears from her cheek. She leaned forward to kiss him.