The Ex (DS Jenna Morgan)

by Diane Saxon

  Her heart gave a tight squeeze and she blinked away the image the sight of him conjured up. Her throat dried in an instant and in the heat of the day it was impossible to find more saliva.

  Already hot in the midday sun, Kim sported dark sweat patches which spread from under his arms in a wide circle over his wrinkled, short-sleeved, pale blue shirt. His thin hair hung limp, spiking out over his ears as it clung to his neck.

  ‘Slimy bastard.’ Mason’s breath puffed out above her ear. ‘Do you want me to hit him for you, Sarg?’

  Jenna ducked her head so the hint of her smile wouldn’t show, appreciating Mason’s injection of humour as a distraction technique. Whilst he made it sound like a joke, Jenna had no doubt that if she wanted Mason to take the slimeball out for her, he most probably would. And relish it at the same time. It wasn’t something she was prepared to risk. Her best officer in a brawl with someone who wasn’t worth the hassle. She had better things to think about than Kim at this moment and, realistically, reporter coverage would be to their advantage. Not that she’d ever known anything Kim had reported to assist the Force. She just may need him to spread the word. If there was one thing he was quite capable of, it was spreading the word, or smearing the shit. If she could just get him to stick to the former, he’d be useful. There was always a first time.

  ‘No. We’re going to need him. We need to get the word out.’

  Ryan hovered at her shoulder. ‘Looks like Facebook and Twitter have already done that for us, Sarg.’

  ‘I assume that’s how Kim heard, unless he’s been monitoring the band waves.’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past him.’

  She turned her back on the crowd for a moment so no one could take advantage of reading her lips and kept her voice low as she addressed Ryan with a quick update. ‘So far, we have every indication that this is a domestic dispute gone too far.’

  ‘Zak seems like a really nice guy. Genuinely upset.’

  Jenna pressed her lips together. ‘I couldn’t agree more. However,’ she spread her hands, ‘until we find evidence of someone else on the scene, we have nothing to go on but a badly injured woman and a missing child. Statistics show there’s a high probability Zak was involved.’

  Mason shouldered into the circle and dipped his head. ‘What if the kid is already dead? If that was the catalyst for an argument between the two of them?’

  Jenna nodded her agreement. ‘All of these things we need to keep a lid on at present and hope to hell we’re looking for a live child.’ She took in a deep breath. ‘Let’s use the resources we have to hand and get on with it.’

  She spun on her heel and made off along the short path to the garden gate.

  As she approached the waiting crowd, Kim shuffled forward, and Jenna scratched her head. She’d not let her intense dislike of the man interfere with the job.

  She raised her chin, held up her badge and kept her tone low and neutral. ‘I’m DS Jenna Morgan. Thank you for your patience.’ She scanned her gaze around, aware as she did that often the perpetrator of a crime would be there in full view. They lurked within the crowd with voyeuristic interest to watch the progress of the case. Often volunteering to help, to distract, to lead the team in the wrong direction. Sometimes with the innate desire to be caught. The most prominent of those was the Soham murders, where two ten-year-old girls, Holly Wells and Jessica Chapman, were murdered by Ian Huntley. He then returned to the scene and claimed to have been the last person to see the girls alive. This was the truth, but not the innocent version he portrayed. Huntley had then conducted several television interviews which the police monitored and eventually his desire to remain a part of the crime was his downfall.

  A valuable lesson had been learnt by every police force and each scene where the public had access was checked in case the perpetrator returned.

  Confident that her team would conduct the same inspection, Jenna stood feet apart, shoulders back. ‘As you’ve just seen, Imelda Cheetham-Epstein, having suffered a fall in which she has sustained head injuries, has been taken to hospital.’ Before anyone could interrupt, Jenna continued, ‘We are not in position at this time to update you on that situation.’

  Her gaze flickered over the crowd to take in Kim, his eyes narrowed with concentration.

  Tempted to blow out a cooling breath, Jenna focused on keeping her features neutral as the sun beat down on her head and sweat trickled down to pool at the base of her back. ‘Unfortunately, it appears that Imelda’s son, Joshua, is no longer in the house.’

  A buzz of concerned murmurings circled around, and she gave them no more than a brief moment before she cut in, her gaze touching on each of the women she’d briefly spoken to when she arrived. Desperate concern wreathed every one of their faces. She held the gaze of the first woman she’d spoken to and addressed her directly. ‘He may have got a fright when he saw his mummy fall and could be hiding. Little ones have been known to tuck themselves away into really tight spaces.’ Jenna studied the member of public as she spoke, filing away their features for future reference, as she knew both Mason and Ryan, who stood either side of her, would do.

  ‘We have checked the whole of the house, everywhere inside, and I have officers checking the garden at this time. We don’t believe he could have got far. He’s too young. Eleven months old. Zak, his father, says he was wearing a white T-shirt and cotton navy dungaree-style shorts. As far as he remembers, Joshua was barefoot, but his mum may have put socks or sandals on him when she brought him downstairs. I’m told by his dad that he’s only recently started to walk and isn’t yet steady, so he’s unlikely to have gone far.’ She raised the photograph of him high and offered it around for the group to see. ‘He has lots of black, curly hair and distinctive blue eyes.’ This time she did blow out a breath. ‘Who here, already knows him?’

  With a show of hands, the group of onlookers nodded with enthusiasm, and Jenna noted the quick reach for phones in their desperation to enlist others.

  ‘In that case, could I ask that you spread out and start a search for him? If he knows you, he’ll hopefully not be too distressed if one of you approach him.’ She cruised her gaze around at their wide, concern-filled faces and nodded her encouragement while giving them words of warning. ‘Please, if you come across him, let us know immediately. In this heat, it’s essential we find Joshua quickly, so he doesn’t dehydrate.’ She could give them a lecture on the perils a lost child faced. Sunburn, sunstroke, but she sensed they were eager enough not to press those points too hard. She’d given them warning enough. She needed them keen and enthusiastic, not panic-stricken and running around like headless chickens, missing any clues.

  Jenna placed her palms together and then pushed her hands out in a circle. ‘If you can fan out from this point. We know we’ve checked or are checking this immediate vicinity, so it helps that you all start from this point. Work your way back towards your own houses. If you know him well, is it likely he’d have come to your house? Please check everywhere. Inside your houses, gardens, sheds and garages. Call out his name, but listen for a reply, a noise.’ She paused to allow them to absorb the task. ‘Any questions?’

  Without hesitation, Kim Stafford stepped forward, the phone he’d just had to his ear now up in the air, very possibly recording. ‘How was Imelda injured?’

  Jenna turned her head to look directly at the older woman she’d spoken to when she’d arrived. Shelly’s face wreathed with concern, Jenna assumed for Joshua, filled with a flush which ran up her neck and into her cheeks. Kim Stafford would get his information wherever he could find it and spit out the gossip and the lies, spinning them to his own advantage.

  Jenna returned her attention to Kim and gave him her own spin. ‘At this stage, we believe Imelda Cheetham-Epstein slipped in the front hall of her house, sustaining head injuries for which she has been airlifted to hospital.’

  Before she could continue, Kim took another step forward to make himself a part of the crowd, a friend, the local journalist
who would help them, be on their side. And they accepted him into their group, parting to allow him to become one of them in their worry and their desire to help. ‘Sergeant Morgan, what about the baby?’ He peered at his phone, she assumed to check his notes. ‘I believe Imelda was pregnant.’

  With the increasing sound of the thwack of the circling helicopter, Jenna raised her voice to be heard. She chose her words carefully. ‘Yes, Mr Stafford, Imelda is pregnant. We will have an update later if you’d care to contact our press officer.’

  ‘But—’

  She cut him off without hesitation. Question time was to enable the neighbours to find the missing child, not for him to finesse his press article. ‘If there are no further questions, we have a missing toddler to find. Let’s get out there and search.’

  The nods of enthusiasm leant a sense of relief. They’d provide their assistance, the best an officer could ask for. Neighbours and their determination to help were essential when it came to finding children. With any luck, they’d have him back and safe in the arms of his family before he even realised he was lost.

  A hard fist twisted in her stomach as she failed to convince herself, but she resisted the temptation to rub her hand over it to smooth out the burn. She needed the community to have faith that they could find Joshua, even if she lacked the conviction she’d instilled in them, with the horrible suspicion that something much more sinister had taken place.

  14

  Sunday 11th July, 12:55 hrs

  Emily stared at the contents of the almost empty fridge and angled her head as she placed three packs of Aptamil ready-to-feed follow-on milk inside. The jars of child food she’d already stashed in the cupboard were suitable for children between one and two. She had no idea how old this one was, but, at a guess, it was somewhere between those ages. Unsteady on its feet, it could nevertheless walk. No words apart from ‘mama’ had come from its mouth so far.

  The cardboard wine carrier rattled as Emily lifted it onto the bench and slotted the six bottles of wine side by side on the bottom rack of the fridge.

  As her mouth turned dry, Emily smoothed her fingers over her lips and reached inside the fridge again. The wine may not be cold, but it would be refreshing.

  She elbowed the fridge door closed and turned to study the youngster. Dirty orange smeared over its face from the tomato-based baby food she’d served. Asleep when she’d left it in the house, just for a short while to dash to the supermarket. Just over half an hour was all she’d been gone.

  ‘That was okay.’ She smiled as she dipped her hand into the kitchen drawer and drew out a corkscrew. ‘You didn’t miss me, did you? You only woke up when I came back.’ The cork popped as she drew it out of the bottle and then reached for a glass. The sweet glug, glug had her taste buds bursting as she poured herself a large measure.

  Her fingers trembled as she raised the glass to her lips and took a long drink. Several swallows before she placed the glass on the bench and reached for the small plastic bag she’d bought from Tesco’s, full of ready sliced fruit. She tipped it onto the new PAW Patrol plate she’d picked up from the end of aisle display and placed it in front of the child.

  She snatched her hand away before she came into contact with the disgusting concoction daubing its hands.

  She didn’t need that filth on her.

  15

  Sunday 11 July, 13:15 hrs

  Jenna raised the radio to her mouth as she strode away. ‘Air one, this is DS Jenna Morgan. Can you tell me what you’ve got?’ She peered down the gorge in the hope she could see what they could.

  ‘With all the rain we've had in the past couple of weeks, there’s a lot of steam rising and hot spots everywhere. We're picking up a lot of wildlife. Nothing more than that. Except, a long shot, we don’t think so, but there’s a hot spot underneath the balcony of the house. We can see the edge of a heat source. It's not fully visible, it’s tucked under the balcony and it's not moving.’ The helicopter moved off to swoop down into the gorge, taking the cooling downward draughts with them. ‘Is it possible to get some foot soldiers out there, Sarg?’

  Jenna flicked her gaze up to encounter Mason and Ryan’s.

  ‘What if Joshua’s fallen over the balcony?’ Ryan suggested.

  Mason screwed his face up. ‘What if he’s been dropped over?’ He shrugged as he voiced what Jenna had already considered. ‘If Zak was responsible for Imelda’s injuries and Joshua was missing, where else could he be if he’s not in the house?’

  Without hesitation, Jenna replied, ‘Unit one, we’re close enough to do this.’ They didn’t need to wait for anyone else. They’d simply pop down the hillside under the balcony and take a quick look. They may have to do a full sweep with uniforms later, but for now, it would have to suffice.

  She strode along the edge of the garden to catch the two uniforms, PC Donna Maguire and PC Natalie Kempson, again. She’d started to view them as her personal angels. Sent to help at any given time as though they sensed her need.

  ‘We need to search under the balcony of the house at the back. Air one has located a heat source. I’ll take Mason and Ryan, if you can hold the fort here.’ She handed the photograph to Donna who traced her quick gaze over it.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Once you’ve finished here, continue to spread further afield.’

  One dark eyebrow winged up as Donna nodded. ‘Good luck, Sarg.’

  Jenna turned her back and trotted to the side of the house as she listened to Airwaves, aware of Kim Stafford following them.

  ‘Sarg, we’ll give you some direction as you get nearer.’

  She raised the radio to her mouth. ‘Roger that.’

  Swiping the film of sweat from her brow, Jenna stepped out of the shadows of the house into the bright sunlight and within a split second had the time to regret her choice of trousers once more.

  That regret soon turned to relief as she cornered the house and stared down at the valley below and spared a brief moment to wish that she also had long sleeves. Thick vegetation of brambles and nettles rose up in front of them to make her question the speed of her offer to go down there.

  Mason pulled to a stop, tilting his head in her direction. ‘Right then, Sarg.’ He sent her a quick wink. ‘We're right behind you.’ His boyish grin did nothing to instil her with confidence. ‘All the way.’ He elbowed her in the ribs and almost earned himself a hard knee in the groin.

  Instead, she turned her attention to the task ahead of them. ‘Right, we’re going straight there and straight back.’ It was further than she’d realised. ‘We don’t have time to wait for specialists, if little Joshua is down there, we have to check now, we don’t have any time to waste. Better call it in, Mason, and get some specialist help just in case.’

  Dread rolled around in her stomach as Jenna breathed in the musty scent of mulched undergrowth and possibly the odd dead animal or two.

  From all the experiences she’d had she already knew this was going to be a bad one. There was something about a job, an instinct on how it was going to run and from the word go, she’d been uneasy about this one.

  The one thing she could be grateful for was her sensible, flat-heeled leather boots.

  Jenna placed both hands on top of the low rail that edged the gorge and swung one leg over after the other. She caught a quick glimpse of Kim Stafford edging his way forward. She ignored him and waited as Ryan vaulted with ease over the fence, followed by Mason.

  Jenna paused for a moment before she spoke. ‘Right.’ She glanced down through the thick vegetation of the hillside, mouth tightening as she shot Mason and Ryan a pained grimace. ‘Take it easy. Watch your footing. We don't need any accidents. Let's not give Air Ambulance another reason to come out.’

  Mason took a long stride and his foot shot out from under him in the thick, slippery undergrowth. ‘Bollocks.’ He jerked upright and his next step was more cautious as Ryan ducked his head to hide his grin.

  Jenna turned sideways and considered the pros
pect of falling headlong down the gorge in amongst the thistles, the nettles, the brambles, and all the other shit that was down there. Possibly car tyres, a fridge and a kitchen sink.

  Despite the solid boots, in her haste she slipped and tripped her way down four foot of hillside before she glanced back up again at the other two close behind her.

  The heavy sound of the helicopter rotors way above them as it passed over again provided a downdraught against the heat which bounced back up at them in humid wafts from the wet, hot undergrowth transforming it into a tropical forest.

  Unable to hear above her tinnitus competing for attention with the helicopter, Jenna rammed Airwaves hard against her good ear and plugged her other ear with her forefinger while she listened to what the pilot had to say. ‘To your left, Sergeant, about another three feet lower than your current position, six foot along from your end of the balcony.’

  Jenna swiped the back of her hand across her top lip, her heart racing in anticipation of what they might find. Not much further. She continued on a diagonal down the incline as Air One banked and disappeared to follow the flow of the river.

  ‘Buggeration, but it’s hot.’

  She barely had the energy to shoot a swift smile at Mason, an arm’s-length to her left above her. Grim faced, Ryan took another step to come close behind her, his breath puffing out.

  She lifted her leg over a bush laden with underripe blackberries in bright greens and ruby reds and staggered as a bramble wrapped itself around her right leg. Its vicious thorns tore through the thick material of her trousers to rip at her tender skin. She hissed out as pain seared in a circle around the back of her calf.

  Before she pitched forward, a firm hand wrapped under her armpit and she found herself wrenched to a halt and jerked back into an upright position.

  ‘I got you there, Sarg.’ Mason's face came close to hers.