The Next Girl: A gripping thriller with a heart-stopping twist

by Carla Kovach

  ‘The end has come. We all reach our end one day, and for us, that is today.’ He paused. ‘Our family will go together and we’ll be at peace. One day our story will be a legend. The greatest love story ever told.’

  Tears soaked Debbie’s face. These moments, in the boot of his car, were probably going to be her final ones. She trembled violently, almost dropping the screwdriver. By family, did he mean her baby too? Her heart thumped against her ribcage.

  She kicked and wriggled, trying to free up any part of her body, but with every movement her energy dwindled. Occasionally the darkness of the boot would spin around, confusing her more. What had he drugged her with? A flash of pain darted through her head.

  ‘We will never be at peace,’ she yelled. Do you hear me?’

  The boot clicked open, and she flinched as the light of the day sent pains shooting though her head. His gaunt face stared down at hers, showing his sickly grin and chipped tooth. ‘You’re angry, but you’ll be fine. I’m going to get Florence after this, and she will join us.’ He took a final drag of his cigarette and flicked the butt onto the rubble.

  ‘No! I hate you. I’ve always hated you. They won’t give my baby to you.’

  ‘Your baby? Let me tell you something – she’s mine. I made her. My blood runs through her veins and keeps her little heart pumping. I gave her life and I can take it away.’ He leaned over and placed his hand on her cheek. ‘It’ll be fine, you’ll see. We’ll all be a family again in another world. Together forever.’

  ‘Leave her alone. She doesn’t belong here. This is between me and you.’

  ‘Florence is my sunshine,’ he said. ‘I hoped you both would be, but you soured that one, didn’t you? I’m a family man at heart. That’s all I wanted, a family, and that always included children. When I first saw you at the pub, clumsily trying to pot a ball, I knew you were the one. I knew then that I’d die for you, and today I’m going to prove that, despite all that you’ve put me through. We are all going together, as a family, and you’re first.’

  He leaned in, grabbed her under the arms and dragged her out of the boot, dropping her onto the ground. She gasped for breath as the pain in her stomach throbbed through her entire body. The wind whipped strands of hair into her mouth. Gravel dug into her wrists and legs, but she gripped the screwdriver with all she had. She tried to pull her wrists apart, hoping to rip the tape, but it was too strong.

  ‘You don’t have to do this.’ She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes.

  ‘You don’t understand. They have come for us, and we have nowhere to go. This is the end.’

  ‘There’s always somewhere to go. You can put me back in the boot and we can drive far away,’ she said, crying. If it meant saving her baby, she would happily be his prisoner for life. The sweat from her brow trailed down her face. He walked away, holding his head in his hands, pacing, as he always did when he felt conflicted. She gazed around. He had parked on a small gravelled area and his car was the only one parked next to the murky pond, in the middle of nowhere. They were surrounded by trees, with what looked like acres of fields in the distance. ‘Help!’ she yelled.

  He reached into the car, grabbed a rag and stuffed it into her mouth. The dry cotton material made her gag. She coughed, managing to push it slightly forward. Tears welled up once more in her eyes. He stared at her; she shook her head. She wanted to yell, ‘no, stop, please stop.’ Then he began to drag her to the lake.

  Hail began to fall from the sky, bouncing off her bare legs and leaving marks where they’d so violently landed. Her legs scraped across the gravelly ground as he tugged her towards the grass.

  Grasping the screwdriver, she tried to fix it into the ground, hoping that it would slow him down, but it was no use.

  Finally, they reached the water’s edge and he let her body fall. She flinched as her head hit the frozen ground. ‘Don’t feel you are alone. We will be joining you soon.’ She watched as hailstones landed in his messy hair, settling on the top of his head. ‘I love you. I love you both.’ He bent over, lifted her up and began walking into the pond until the water was at his waist. She shivered uncontrollably, her teeth chattering into the rag, as the cold wetness soaked through her nightdress. Then he lowered her into the water. She shook her head and allowed her teary eyes to linger on his gaze. She wanted to beg him not to let her go, not to leave her, not to let her die, but she couldn’t. All she could do was look at him and shake her head.

  ‘You’re beautiful, like Ophelia herself. I’d hoped we’d go out to Stratford to watch a play one day, but not now, not ever.’ He bent to kiss her on the cheek. She felt her hair splay out, framing her face as he lowered her further into the icy arms that were hungrily awaiting her arrival.

  She began jabbing at the tape once again as he let her go. She sank into the icy pond. Scum enveloped her and the trees disappeared from view and very soon the light vanished. Water soaked through the rag that was in her mouth and she gagged as the air in her lungs was replaced by water. She tried to bring her legs downwards to stand but they had stiffened with the cold. She felt the bottom of the pond with her toe. Weeds entangled around her legs, pulling her down. Her grip on the screwdriver loosened, and she finally let it go.

  Fifty-Seven

  Larry peered around the tree. The car had gone. He sprinted to the water’s edge, flinging his boots off as he ran, keeping his eye on the spot where the lady had been drowned. He had to get her out.

  As he entered the water and it passed his waist, his breath was almost taken away. It would be a miracle if she survived not only the drowning but the icy temperature. He reached down, feeling deeper and deeper into the pond. He’d never been a brilliant swimmer, but he loved sitting by the water. It was part of the reason he loved fishing so much. But this was no time to think about his hatred of being in water. A woman’s life was at stake.

  He reached down again and still he couldn’t feel a thing. He lowered his head under the water, held his breath and kept his eyes open. The brown water gave no clue as to where she was. He slipped off a rock and was plunged into darkness. He continued holding his breath until he came across what felt like the flesh of a person. He grabbed a limb and stepped back, pulling her at the same time. As his hand slipped further down the limb, he felt fingers. He linked his fingers into hers, steadied his feet and burst through the water, taking a huge breath of fresh air.

  He leaned back in, grabbed the woman under her arms and lifted her head out of the water. With shaking hands, he felt for a pulse. He couldn’t feel anything, but he wasn’t sure. He needed to perform CPR. Grateful that his workplace had just sent him on a first aid course, he pinched the woman’s nose and sealed his mouth over hers, exhaling a lungful of air into her. He needed to do chest compressions. Dragging her to the water’s edge, he placed her on the grass and began to pump her chest. Nothing. He continued with what he’d been taught, over and over again, just like he’d been shown with the doll.

  ‘Come on!’ he shouted, wet and shivering and with only the ducks to bear witness to all that was happening.

  The woman coughed and spewed out a stream of murky pond water. He rolled her into the recovery position and ran back to his fishing peg. He grabbed his phone and dialled 999 before returning to her side with his knee blanket and flask.

  ‘We’ll all be together soon’ – that’s what the man had said. The words ran through his head as his teeth chattered. It’s not every day a person witnesses someone trying to murder a woman. Was the killer coming back? The woman opened one eye and tried to scream.

  ‘It’s okay, there’s an ambulance on its way.’ He pulled the blanket over her shoulders and held a cup of hot coffee towards her. Debbie burst into tears and placed her hand on his as she lay back down. He smiled as he saw flashing lights coming down the long winding road.

  Deborah continued to sob. ‘I’m Deborah, Deborah Jenkins,’ she croaked.

  ‘And I’m Larry,’ he replied.

  ‘Thank you.’ He
r smile turned into a frown as she became more lucid. She reached for his chest, knocking the coffee down his front. ‘Please tell them, he’s going for my baby next. They need to stop him.’ She tried to sit up, but fell back in a heap. ‘They need to stop him,’ she whispered, as the police car crunched to a halt in the car park. Her heavy eyes finally closed.

  ‘Deborah!’ Larry called.

  ‘PC Smith.’ The man removed his coat and placed it over the woman. ‘I’ve just heard on the radio, there’s an ambulance on its way.’

  ‘Her name is Deborah Jenkins,’ Larry said. He watched as the policeman took the woman’s pulse before radioing for the ambulance to hurry.

  Fifty-Eight

  Gina watched as two officers dodged the undergrowth while trying to reach her and Wyre at the barn. She brushed away the droplets of water that had gathered on her sleeve from the hail shower. Her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and stared at the screen. It was Hannah. ‘Why do I always get calls I need to take at the worst of times? It’s my daughter.’

  ‘You should talk to her,’ Wyre replied.

  Gina smiled and accepted the call. ‘Hannah.’

  ‘Tomorrow at ten. You got my message, didn’t you?’ she asked with no pleasantries. Gina smiled as she heard Gracie cooing in the background.

  ‘Yes. I’ll be there. Look, I’m sorry I’ve been a little off lately. After tomorrow is over, can we have a chat? I need to talk to you.’ Gina’s hands began to shake and her face flushed with heat.

  ‘Chat. What about?’

  ‘It’s not a good time now, I’m at a crime scene, but you must know that I love you and Gracie dearly. I really do. Please don’t shut me out,’ she said, her voice cracking with every word.

  The two officers reached the barn and walked over to Wyre.

  ‘Okay, but I need tomorrow to be about Dad. Maybe we can meet for coffee next week. Take Gracie to soft play and have a chat there. Can we do that, Mum? And can you promise to turn up, whatever happens?’

  ‘I can. See you tomorrow, love.’

  ‘Bye, Mum.’

  Gina ended the call and placed the phone back in her pocket.

  Wyre walked over and placed her hand on Gina’s shoulder. ‘Everything alright, ma’am?’

  ‘I think so.’ Her phone rang again: Jacob this time. In the distance, she saw him get out of O’Connor’s car and wave at her with the phone pressed against his ear. She accepted the call.

  ‘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.

  He turned to the side. ‘We can’t do this.’

  ‘We were doing it alright the other day.’

  ‘Brooke, I don’t want to argu
e with you. Besides, the social worker is in the kitchen. I thought you understood,’ he whispered.

  ‘I do, I do. I just… I don’t know why I came. It was stupid.’

  ‘Look, a lot has happened…’ He pushed back his wet hair with his fingers, wondering what to say next. On the TV, a mid-morning debate was in full swing about whether further cuts to the NHS budget would cost even more lives. He grabbed the remote control and turned it down.

  ‘I should go.’

  ‘Shh—’ He stepped in front of Brooke as he heard a cry, followed by a thud, coming from kitchen. Was his overtired mind playing tricks on him? ‘Hello?’ he called. The house was silent. ‘Devina?’ His heart rate sped up with every step he took through the hallway. He felt Brooke’s trembling hand on his back as she followed.

  He pushed the kitchen door and inhaled with a force that almost made him faint. Brooke gasped. Standing in front of him was a damp and dishevelled man, gripping Isobel in his arms. Devina was slumped beside the chair she’d been sitting on, unconscious, with blood dripping from her head.

  He recognised the man, but it took a few seconds to place him. The pub. He’d seen the cellar keeper on only one occasion, all those years ago, when he’d made his own enquiries into his wife’s disappearance.

  ‘She’s mine. I’ve come for her,’ the man said as he took a step closer to the back door. As he turned, Luke spotted the knife pointing directly into Isobel’s stomach. Luke took a step forward, and the intruder stepped back, squelching as he did. A trail of wet footsteps led from the back door to the baby basket.

  ‘You work at the Angel, don’t you?’ Luke said as he stared at the man. ‘I know you don’t want to hurt her. Please, just pass her to me.’

  ‘Hurt her! She’s going to a better place. She belongs with her mother and father.’ Isobel stirred in his arms but didn’t wake. Luke trembled as he watched Debbie’s baby in the grip of this madman.