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

by Carla Kovach

  Maybe he wouldn’t say that. He didn’t know if he really meant the things that were unfolding in his thoughts or if they were just a reaction to his increased stress levels. He was walking towards the room where his wife’s baby lay. Another man’s baby, but she was part of his wife and his wife was going through something, somewhere. What if she never came home? Could he rise to the challenge of bringing up this baby alone, in Debbie’s absence? Would that be too much to ask? Would Cathy bring the baby up? His wife’s mother gripped his hand as they reached the entrance to the room.

  He paused at the door to the room, staring across at the little baby, dressed in a white all-in-one vest, sleeping in a tiny plastic crib. This was the baby he was possibly meant to take responsibility for. His legs felt weak and he began to tremble. What had Debbie been through? His lovely Debbie had been forced to— he couldn’t say it, even in his mind. It felt like his heart was ripping apart, taking his breath away. ‘I just want Debbie back. I need her.’

  ‘We will get her back. We will,’ Cathy said.

  ‘You don’t know that. None of us know that. I searched for her everywhere and found nothing, just like that lot. None of us know.’ He almost broke down as he looked back at DI Harte. She looked down. They both knew there were no guarantees. His mind whizzed around and eventually stopped on an image that would haunt him. He imagined Debbie shackled in some dungeon, with a psycho raping and beating her. His lovely Debbie, the gentle mother, the beautiful young woman he’d married on that chilly October morning. His mind flashed back to the day they’d started senior school. She was the cutest girl in the class and he’d known then that they would one day be together. Then the chains came back, the image of a monster, a devil, stooping over her.

  ‘Hello, I’m Devina Gupta, caseworker for Baby Jenkins. I’ll be sitting with you and can answer any questions you might have.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Cathy whispered as she peered into the room, trying to catch a glimpse of the baby.

  Devina led the way and sat on a chair in the corner of the room. Luke watched as the woman fought to drag a notepad out of her oversized handbag. She flicked her frizzy black hair out of her eyes and began making notes.

  His eyes met Cathy’s. He wanted to speak but he couldn’t. The words were muddled in his head. How on earth would he get them out in a coherent way? ‘Luke, would you prefer to wait outside?’ He shook his head and followed Cathy’s lead as she tiptoed towards the crib. She reached in and placed her finger on the baby’s hand. The baby stirred and gripped her finger before letting out a half-hearted cry. ‘I think she’s hungry.’ Cathy smiled at the baby and began to stroke her fine hair. ‘She’s beautiful. She’s one of us, Luke. We have to take care of her. I know you’re probably not ready for this, so when the time comes, she can stay with me, if you’re not—’

  ‘She has a brother and a sister. She’s part of Debbie.’ He broke down, sobbing until his face was completely wet and his nose was beginning to bubble. His heart had melted. This was Debbie’s baby, a connection to the only woman he’d ever truly loved, and he wasn’t about to let her down now. ‘We’ll look after her and love her, for Debbie.’

  Cathy took his hand. ‘I’m so proud of you, Luke. When she comes home, we’ll all be waiting. One happy family. And she will come home.’ Cathy turned to Devina. ‘Can the baby come home too?’

  ‘We have a lot to go through. I’d certainly support short supervised home visits to begin with, as this is a big thing for you both. We’d need to see you in your home and we have procedures to follow, but our aim is to always keep families together if we can.’

  ‘Please make it happen. This little one needs me,’ Cathy said, shaking as she wiped the corner of her eye.

  A doctor entered and grabbed the chart from the end of the crib. ‘Are you relatives?’ he asked.

  ‘Hello. Doctor Nowak, isn’t it. We met the other day,’ Gina said as she beckoned for the doctor to follow her outside the room. Devina followed, closing the door behind them. Luke peered out. He knew they were discussing their situation, their rights and the baby’s needs. He gripped Cathy’s hand and sat down. ‘I’m not prepared to let Debbie down. I know we can do this. I don’t know what we’ll say to Max and Heidi, but we’ll think of something.’

  Cathy smiled. ‘They’ll be fine. We’ll work something out.’ She continued to rub Luke’s back. ‘We must think of a name. She can’t be called Baby Jenkins forever. Did Debbie ever tell you about her doll, Isobel?’

  ‘No. I don’t think so,’ he replied, wiping his eyes with his hand.

  ‘When she was a little girl, we used to read her this story about a little girl called Isobel who had the most awful nightmares. Debbie used to get nightmares sometimes, which is why we got her the book. In the story, one night, after a battle with the monsters under her bed, Isobel realises that they were only nightmares and that she ultimately has the power over them, as they aren’t real. Debbie’s father was working away one time, and he brought her back a rag doll. She loved the doll and called her Isobel, after the girl in the story. She went everywhere with the doll, until she started senior school and grew up, that is.’

  ‘And met me,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘And met you. My wonderful son-in-law and the best father in the world. When she first brought you home I made you each a fish finger sandwich. I knew then that you were the one for my daughter.’ Cathy leaned over the crib and lifted the baby up. She hugged her gently, carefully cradling her head.

  Luke noticed Devina looking at him through the window in the door, checking his responses. He stroked the baby’s hair. ‘I love the name Isobel. Isobel Jenkins sounds like it was always meant to be.’

  ‘Are you ready to hold her?’

  He reached out and took the tiny baby from Cathy. He was surprised at how light she was. He remembered Max and Heidi being quite chunky babies. Isobel was a dainty little flower. His arm shook as he laid her against his chest. Her warmth seeped through his T-shirt. The little one gurgled and brought her hands to her face before sucking on her knuckles. ‘You were right, about her being hungry.’ He kissed the top of her head and placed her back in Cathy’s arms.

  ‘We’re all going to be just fine. I’m going to be with you on this, every step of the way. We can do this.’ He smiled. Cathy was right. She was always right, and with her help he knew Isobel would be just fine. He thought back to sleepless nights, teething and nappies. What if Debbie never came home? Could he cope? His heart began to race. He closed his eyes and swallowed. One minute he was filled with optimism, the next with doubt. He opened his eyes and noticed Devina taking notes and glancing up at him, scrutinising his every move and reaction. Every part of him wanted to scream, to shout and punch the door, but he couldn’t lose control. He had Cathy and Isobel to think of. He had to be the man Debbie needed.

  Eighteen

  ‘We’ve finished setting up the incident room,’ DC Paula Wyre said as Gina walked through the door.

  ‘That’s great, thank you.’ Gina returned Wyre’s smile. She reached for the crumpled tissue in her pocket and wiped the bottom of her scabby nose.

  ‘Looks sore, guv.’

  ‘It is, and it’s getting worse with every wipe. I certainly wish this cold would do one.’ She looked at Wyre. ‘How on earth do you manage to look so… tidy? It’s like we’re always here, always busy, always into one case or another. I don’t know how you do it. I feel like a tramp some days.’

  ‘Err…’ Wyre shrugged her shoulders and smiled at Gina.

  ‘I’ll catch you in a minute.’

  ‘Thanks, guv.’ Wyre headed towards the incident room.

  Jacob entered from the corridor. ‘Did it go well at the hospital?’

  Gina removed her coat and hung it over her arm. ‘As well as it could. I can’t imagine what they’re going through.’ She followed him past several offices to the incident room. ‘It’s great to see you’ve all been so busy. Nice work.’ She threw her coat over the back of
a chair and proceeded to the board, on which all the information they’d collated so far was written or attached. In the centre was a photo of Deborah Jenkins. The young, healthy woman smiled out at her. Details of her family life were outlined. The witnesses were listed under five headings: school contacts; colleagues; social life; family; and other. The list was huge. They’d contacted so many people after she’d first disappeared.

  A map of Warwickshire and Worcestershire had been hung on the wall, to the left of the board. Cleevesford had been outlined in red. Her eyes trailed over the pins, starting at the point they’d found her shoe to the point they’d discovered Baby Jenkins. She grabbed another pin and placed it on Luke’s house on the map. Photos of the school, her work and everywhere else she frequented were also pinned under their headings. She turned her attention to O’Connor, who was sitting in a chair facing away, wearing earphones. He had one hand on his keyboard and the other was scratching his head. He flinched as she tapped him on the shoulder.

  He fumbled with his computer and attempted to remove the earphones that had got caught in his badly knotted tie. ‘You’re back. I was just going through the calls to see if I could find anything in them.’

  ‘Anything standing out as useful?’ Gina asked.

  ‘No, not as yet. We’ve had a few new ones. I’m working through them at the moment. Wyre and I divided them up after we pinned all the info to the boards as you requested. Mrs O has made cupcakes, by the way. Help yourself. They’re over by the coffee pot.’

  ‘Thanks. Will do. I won’t keep you any longer. Let me know straight away if anything that might be of use comes up,’ Gina replied as she began to cough, only catching it in her hands at the last minute.

  O’Connor held his hand over his mouth. ‘Sorry, guv, I don’t want to catch it, not with my bike ride coming up.’

  ‘Don’t blame you. Sorry.’

  O’Connor smiled and placed his earphones back in. Gina walked over to the kitchenette and grabbed the coffee pot, pouring a cup of the strong dark liquid and taking a long swig, savouring its soothing properties as it trickled down her sore throat. A tickle caught her tonsils and she began to cough and splutter again. Great, the sneezing and headaches were subsiding, only to be replaced by a sore throat and an annoying cough.

  ‘You okay?’ Briggs handed Gina a handful of old crumpled tissues that he dragged from his pocket.

  ‘I think I’d rather use my sleeve. I don’t know where they’ve been,’ she said as she handed them back to him.

  ‘Your loss,’ he replied, smiling as he grabbed a pink cupcake and took a bite.

  ‘They’re bad for your waistline.’

  ‘I think I’m past caring,’ he said as he patted his belly ‘I also think O’Connor’s a bit offended, as I never eat any of his wife’s baked goodies.’ Just as he said it, O’Connor turned and spotted him eating a cupcake. Briggs held it up and smiled. ‘I’m eating one,’ he called out. O’Connor shrugged and pointed at his earphones.

  ‘He’s not listening.’ Gina coughed again and cleared her throat, unsure of what to say next.

  Briggs nodded as he chomped on a mouthful of cake. ‘You know, they’re pretty damn good.’ He held the plate up.

  ‘No, I think I’ll pass.’

  ‘Do you fancy a drink later? We could try the new wine bar in Stratford, sit and look out at the river, get away from things for a couple of hours. I hear the Christmas decorations are good this year on the High Street.’

  Gina glanced around, checking to see if anyone had noticed them talking. ‘Not here,’ she murmured. ‘Someone will hear us. Besides, I’m meant to be seeing my daughter tonight.’

  ‘Exciting though, isn’t it?’ He moved closer. She could feel the warmth of his body. A succession of thoughts flashed through her mind: the night in question, her legs wrapped around his body, him moving back and forth above her just where she’d needed him, the wine, and the laughs. He knew exactly what she was thinking. Her face had become an open book.

  ‘No, just no. I’ll text you later,’ she said, as a nervous laugh escaped her guarded expression.

  ‘Anyway, it’s not like you to miss out on eating junk,’ Briggs said with a grin as he wiped the last of the crumbs from the side of his mouth and binned the cake case.

  ‘Feeling poorly.’ Gina pulled a sad face.

  ‘Well, I could stand here all day and give you sympathy or I could go and do some work.’

  ‘I don’t need your sympathy. Look, I’ll have a cake if it makes you feel better.’ Gina grabbed a cake off the plate and took a large bite out of the top. As the buttercream mulched in her mouth and slipped down her throat she instantly regretted it. The sugary butter mixed with mucus was making her nauseous.

  ‘Enjoy,’ Briggs replied as he rubbed his hands together. ‘You know, you look beautiful, even with a scabby nose.’ The last word his, he turned and walked off.

  Gina glanced around the room, hoping that no one had noticed the mixed expression on her face. Everyone was busy working; she needn’t have worried. She placed the rest of the little cake in the bin and threw a few sheets of kitchen roll on top to hide the evidence. She wasn’t sure if this thing with Briggs was worth pursuing, but there was something there that made her feel good. Was that enough?

  She walked back to the board and stared at Deborah’s photo. Images of Luke and Cathy ran through her mind. She had no idea how they were going to cope or how they’d even begin to tell the children. She shuddered. How do you tell young children that their missing mother has had a baby and that the baby has turned up abandoned outside their local library? She had to find Deborah. She was under no illusions that finding Deborah and placing her back with her family would throw up problems of its own, but it would be a start to rebuilding their family unit, however difficult.

  ‘I think we have something,’ O’Connor called. Gina slammed her coffee down on a desk and ran over, grinning as she almost coughed over O’Connor. This was just what she needed, a lead.

  ‘What is it?’ Gina asked.

  ‘Music to my ears,’ Briggs called out as he passed Gina and walked over to O’Connor.

  Nineteen

  The incident room was bustling with bodies, all crowding around to hear what O’Connor had to say. Wyre removed her earphones and jogged across the room, pushing her way through everyone to get close to O’Connor. ‘What have you got?’ Gina asked. The room went almost silent as everyone hung on O’Connor’s words.

  O’Connor frowned as he twiddled the earphones that hung over his chest. ‘Jill just sent me this one through. We have to go and interview the woman straight away, while she’s remembering things. She lives at number seventeen Bell Terrace, on the road running behind the library. Her name’s Mabel McDonald.’

  Gina took out her notebook and pen and jotted the address down. She caught a glimpse of her watch. Hannah and Gracie would be at her house in two hours for their visit, and a lead had just come in. She could get this woman interviewed, get back to the station and compile the notes, then make it back home to meet them. She felt her stomach flutter. Who was she kidding? She pulled her phone out of her pocket and began to text Hannah. Her finger hovered above the send button. She couldn’t do it. She deleted the text. She had to make it back to see them. There was no other option. If she disappointed her daughter one more time, she feared she may never get another chance. ‘Tell us what you know,’ she said to O’Connor.

  ‘Right. Here’s what we have. She saw a hooded person walk past her house between six thirty and eight on the night that Baby Jenkins was discovered. She states that she was looking out of the window for her cat, who had not been home all day. Apparently, this figure was cradling a bag in his arms. She’s also partially deaf. Jill had trouble communicating with her during the call. That is all I have, unfortunately, but it’s something.’

  ‘It could very well be everything. We need to get onto this straight away. Jacob, you can come with me to interview her. Everyone else, stay at it. Keep
going through everything until you come up with another lead.’

  * * *

  As they dashed across the car park to Jacob’s car Gina checked her watch again. ‘My daughter’s meant to be coming to visit this evening. I could do with being back for her.’

  ‘We can do our best. Let’s hope this old dear’s on form.’

  She frowned as she got in the car and buckled up. Her granddaughter had been walking for weeks and she hadn’t observed her taking a single step. ‘Remind me, Jacob, why the hell do we do all this?’

  ‘All what?’ He disengaged the handbrake and began driving.

  ‘This. Sacrifice a family life for this job.’

  ‘If only this was just a job.’ He laughed. ‘I wish it were that simple.’

  Gina grabbed a sweet from the glovebox, hoping it would soothe her scratchy throat. ‘That’s the problem. I wish I could just see it as a job, but it’s my life. That sounds really sad, I know, but I need to feel like I’m putting wrongs right and making the world a better place.’

  ‘That’s why we do it. After all, what is the real meaning of life? In my opinion there is no meaning. Life as a concept is pretty crap. You’re born, you reproduce, you spend your life trying to keep up with the neighbours and working yourself into an early grave. Cycle starts again.’ Gina looked out of the window as Jacob drove down a long road in silence. ‘I suppose I feel that you can choose to do some good while you’re here. Though I do it mostly for O’Connor’s wife’s cupcakes. Boy, that woman has talent.’

  ‘Let’s celebrate O’Connor’s wife’s cupcakes and their role in creating our dedicated team,’ Gina replied.

  Jacob kept his eyes on the road as he turned into Bell Terrace. ‘To cupcakes.’

  He steered along the slightly curved road as Gina admired the trees lining the paths. Springtime would bring out their beautiful blossoms. As they neared Mrs McDonald’s house, Gina shivered. The houses were all decorated – one had a pretend Santa climbing up the wall and another had an outdoor tree covered in fairy lights. Would Deborah know it was Christmas? Gina knew Deborah’s heart would be savagely torn apart as she thought about her children waking up again without her on Christmas day.