by Carla Kovach
Gina looked down. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Jenkins. We have no news on either, I’m afraid. We’ve had officers on foot contacting everyone who lives locally to try and flush out more witnesses.’
‘I know. I saw them walking up and down earlier.’
There were tubs of baby milk, used bottles, nappy bags and all manner of things strewn over the worktops and table. It was obvious that the family had been busy caring for their unexpected addition. ‘Have you got everything you need?’ Gina asked.
‘Apart from my sanity and my wife. I suppose I have everything else.’
‘Do you have any news for us?’ Cathy asked.
‘Only that Luke’s DNA results came back. I thought I’d just pop by in person and confirm what you already knew. Your DNA doesn’t match that of the baby.’ Luke stood in silence. ‘I know you weren’t happy when you came to the station, but we were just following procedure. We have to rule the obvious out sometimes, just so that we can move on.’
Luke passed the grouchy baby over to Cathy and gave his stiff arm a shake. He placed his hand on his forehead and stared out of the kitchen window. The wind howled and there was a bang. The little trampoline had toppled over. ‘Everything’s falling apart, just like my life at the minute,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry about the way I was at the station.’
‘I understand. You were right, but we have to do what we have to do. And what I really want to do is find Deborah. I still need you both to keep a look out all the time, tell me straight away if anything seems strange, anyone seems out of place or anything happens, however small. If you so much as have a phone call you can’t account for, I want to know.’
Luke stepped closer to Cathy and placed his arm around the woman. ‘Are we in any danger?’
Gina wanted to reassure them, tell them everything was okay and that they were all safe, but after the intruder the other night, she couldn’t be sure. ‘We’re doing everything we can, and if I feel at any point you are in any danger, I will let you know immediately.’
‘And that’s meant to make us feel safe? Debbie is out there somewhere, missing her baby. Her children live here and they want her home too, and they know something’s wrong. I don’t care about myself, but I care about them. I need to know if my children are safe because I don’t feel safe,’ he said as he broke away and walked over to the kitchen window. ‘I was this close to someone trying to break into our home. This close.’ He turned and held his finger and thumb apart by a fraction. ‘This close,’ he said as he broke down. Cathy placed the now sleeping baby into the carrier and walked over to Luke. She placed her arm around him and patted his back as she embraced him.
‘I’m sorry, officer. Unless there’s anything else you have to tell us, it might be better if you leave us be,’ Cathy said.
‘Give me a call if you hear anything.’ Cathy nodded and Gina walked away. As she reached the hall, she looked up and saw Max and Heidi sitting on the top step. Heidi was covering Max’s ears as she held him close to her. ‘It’s okay, Max,’ she said, as she cried. The children could see the anguish Luke was going through. How would he ever to be able to explain what was happening to them?
She left the house, closed the door and hit the side of the wall. She flexed her fingers and noticed that she’d scraped a little bit of skin from the side of her hand. Maybe she could’ve handled everything better. When she’d arrived, they seemed to be coping. She’d thought turning up in person would be better than calling, but she couldn’t have been more wrong, and his children had heard everything.
Devina ran up the path, holding her bag above her head as the rain fell. ‘DI Harte, is everything okay?’ she asked.
‘Yes, just updating Luke. We took his DNA to eliminate him from our enquiries.’
‘And?’
‘He’s eliminated. How are they getting on?’
‘They’re doing remarkably well, given the circumstances. It would be a tough one for anybody. They haven’t properly explained things to the children as yet though.’
‘How come you weren’t with them when I arrived?’ Gina asked.
Devina’s smile disappeared. ‘They’ve been doing really well, from what I’ve observed. They’re an amazing, loving family, and I’d love nothing more than to eventually place little Isobel in their full-time care. I just popped to the car to make a few confidential calls. I didn’t want them hearing. Are you questioning something, DI Harte?’
‘No. I just wondered where you were when I arrived. I’m sorry. Things have just been strained. They’re all a little upset, and they could do with your support. Unfortunately the children overheard me updating Luke and Cathy. They now know about Deborah.’
‘Oh no. Poor kids. I’d best get back in there,’ said Devina. ‘Keep me updated, inspector.’
Thirty-Six
The main entrance was bustling with suspects who were being checked in. She recognised the short, stout woman who was swearing loudly at the front of the queue as being from the estate nearby. She was one of their regular shoplifters. An officer passed with a staggering male in his late forties and escorted him towards the cells. The shoplifter knocked the mini Christmas tree off the desk as she turned to watch the drunken male. It was clearly December.
Gina shoved past the desk, picking up the tree as she passed, and nodded at Nick, who was calmly dealing with the swearing woman. She headed along the corridor, past the main office, then past her own, until she reached the incident room. Wyre was speaking to someone on the phone while doodling. Gina leaned over. Amongst her scrawl were several doodles of cubes. Wyre ended the call and turned to face Gina. ‘I found something. It may be something, it may be nothing.’ Wyre grinned as she swivelled back towards her computer screen.
O’Connor yawned and walked towards the kitchenette. ‘Sorry to call you in on your day off,’ Gina said.
‘No worries, boss. I will confess to being asleep on the sofa when the call was received. Anyway, we did the interviews like you asked. I’m just going to grab another coffee. Do you want one?’
‘No, I’m good, thanks.’
Gina leaned in and watched Wyre open the early case notes on the screen.
‘Do you remember Adele Sutter? You interviewed her when Deborah Jenkins first disappeared.’
Gina frowned and then looked back. ‘Parent. Knew Deborah from the school run. She had a girl the same age. I looked over the notes a couple of days ago. Was that her calling in?’
‘No. That was Briggs. He said to have all reports typed up and on the system ASAP.’ Wyre placed her chewed-up pen on the desk.
‘What happened with this Adele Sutter then?’
Wyre scrolled down the interview notes. ‘A man wearing a hoodie was seen at the school a handful of times as far back as September, when the new term started. I know you tried to locate this person but the attempts were to no avail. He never turned up again.’
‘Maybe he had no reason to turn up again after Deborah’s disappearance,’ said Gina. ‘That’s what we thought at the time anyway. We had appeals to locate him, but nothing came of it.’ Gina looked at the incident board. A hooded figure outside the Jenkinses’ home, spying on them from afar. A hooded figure tried to break into Mr Jenkins’ house. Could it really be the same person that had been hanging around back then, at the school? The chances were slim and it really wasn’t much to go on. ‘Don’t a lot of people wear hoodies this time of the year?’ Gina stood in silence as she stared at the board. ‘It might be a long shot, but we should run this scenario again. Maybe she was being stalked. Maybe this person knew of Deborah’s work patterns. Maybe he waited for her to finish and relished the fact that she left late, alone, in the stormy darkness. Maybe this particular hooded figure took her and still has her.’
Gina walked over to the incident board and wrote the words ‘small white van’ and a question mark under Nelson’s name. ‘We went back to her workplace earlier and Nelson mentioned that he thought a white van passed him when he left that evening. This is somethin
g he didn’t think to tell us the first time round. Maybe our hooded person has a van? We have traces of red diesel on the baby’s blanket, so a van would tie in there. O’Connor is looking into local farms, and we have to consider this a likely scenario. We barely have a thread to go on, but it sounds plausible. Maybe this hooded figure is the baby’s father? Maybe he’s seething with jealousy, thinking that Luke might end up with the baby. But why did he abandon the baby, if that’s the case?’ Gina began pacing the room. ‘Unless the other night wasn’t an attempted break-in…’
Gina turned back to the incident board, wrote ‘hooded figure’ and circled it. Underneath she referenced Adele Sutter, Luke Jenkins’ attempted break-in and the man watching from the wall. She also drew an arrow with a question mark above it, leading from the hooded figure to the baby’s father. ‘We should warn Luke to keep all his doors locked and to contact us at any time should he need to. Will you call him? He has my number. Tell him to use it, no matter what the time.’
‘Will do, ma’am,’ Wyre replied as she picked up the phone.
‘How did the interviews go?’
‘As well as expected. Bosko only just left as you arrived back. O’Connor and I will get the reports typed up as soon as. I’ll let you know when they’re there to read. In a nutshell, there’s nothing new to add. Nelson just confirmed what he said about the van, only this time, he claimed he was certain he saw a van. He said that after we searched his flat back then, he remembered about the van. He thought we’d hassle him more if he said something, accuse him of hiding things and wrongfully charge him or something. As you’ll see from the notes, I think he was just scared of being fitted up. The others had nothing much to report. Their stories haven’t changed and I’m satisfied at how they come across. Also, no connection between Avery and any of Deborah’s work colleagues.’
Gina wandered back to her own office. She couldn’t face hearing anything from the Jenkins household that evening after the way she’d left them. She pulled her phone out of her pocket but there were no new messages. She opened Briggs’s text, and before she knew it, she’d replied. She looked at her watch and grabbed her laptop so that she could continue working from home later. Her phone beeped. A rush of blood travelled through her head as she read the message.
See you at mine in a while.
Thirty-Seven
The dark, snaking roads led to a bridge over the carriageway then onto Briggs’s road. The car bumped over the potholes until it finally settled on the flat. Gina steered tightly into the only available parking space and got out of the car. There were only a couple of lights on in the row of small terraced houses, and only a few street lamps lit the way. Her heart began to flutter again. What was she doing? What was it about Briggs?
She followed the thin footpath towards his house. She’d only ever popped by once before, to drop some reports off to him on her way home. She remembered his home seeming warm and cosy. He’d had a wood burner on the go and he’d made her a warm milky coffee.
His dog barked as she approached the gate. She followed the small path down the side of the house, feeling along the wall as the lamplight disappeared. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and used it to light the way. As she turned into the back garden, a security light came on. Worms glistened on the path below. Her stomach turned as she carefully stepped over them. She’d hated worms ever since one of the boys at school had thrown one at her.
The dog continued barking and began scrabbling against the back door. ‘Jessie, it’s okay, girl. It’s just Gina,’ Briggs said.
Jessie dashed past Gina and sniffed the grass, where she stooped instantly, relieving herself. ‘I hope you like egg and chips. It’s about the extent of my culinary talents,’ Briggs said. The old Labrador pushed its way back into the house and shook its wet coat all over the kitchen.
‘I love egg and chips,’ Gina replied. Holding a spatula in one hand, Briggs moved to the side so that she could enter. His kitchen smelled of hot oil, a smell she wasn’t overly keen on. She watched as he continued pouring the chips in the fryer. She hadn’t often seen him in casual wear, but his jeans fitted his tall, stocky body well. He turned, almost bumping into her and stopped. It was then she knew. There was nothing of Terry in Briggs. Okay, he was hard and a bit rough around the edges, but she wanted him. There was no denying the fact.
‘Can I get you a drin—’
She placed her finger over his mouth, removed it, then kissed him hard. She needed something, someone, some close human contact. He kissed her back. She dragged his jumper over his head and dropped it to the floor. She unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall on top of his jumper. He placed his warm hands behind her back and unclipped her bra, before leading her to the rug in the lounge.
‘I want you now,’ she whispered, as he nuzzled her ears and lay next to her. Within seconds their bodies were entangled on the floor. Gina reached over and flicked the lamp off. The moon shone through the curtains, lighting up their almost naked bodies. Briggs stroked and kissed her. As he reached her breasts, she undid his fly and straddled him. He was ready; she was ready. With one trouser leg off and his jeans half on, she took all that he had to offer. She felt his breathing increase in speed as his open mouth found hers. He kissed her hard as they found their end.
‘You said you liked danger,’ she said as she leaned to the side.
‘I like your version of danger. Good job you turned the lights off,’ he said as he sat up. ‘My neighbour is just walking his dog.’
She laughed – and then the fire alarm went off. ‘Bloody chip pan,’ he yelled as he leaped up, almost tripping over his jeans as he darted to the kitchen. ‘Do you like pizza?’ He threw her shirt at her.
* * *
Gina leaned back into the sofa cushions. ‘So, we have a hooded figure, a black dog, red diesel. Let’s run a few thoughts. What would Deborah be experiencing? Maybe she’s on farmland, or in a house? In a room, a cellar? Would there be an outhouse or a shed of some description? A caravan, maybe? Does he live alone? He must do. How could anyone else stand by while someone’s being held captive? How many people live on farms alone? Or are they in cahoots? Could there be two of them? Could the other one be Avery?’ Gina ran through the list of possibilities as Briggs listened.
‘Maybe this person lives with someone,’ he said. ‘Maybe he doesn’t let her or him into his own private space. Maybe they’re scared of him, and they don’t understand or know? Does he have a family? How does all this tie in with Deborah’s life pre-disappearance?’ They were coming up with questions and no answers, no evidence, nothing pointing to any one person. Briggs leaned over her and grabbed another slice of pizza from the coffee table. ‘Wine?’
‘Not for me. I’ve got to drive home,’ she replied. He topped up his half-full glass and took a bite of pizza.
She thought back to Avery’s sickly smile. There was still something about the pub she couldn’t fathom, something that kept bringing her back to Avery. The relationships amongst the staff weren’t sitting well with her. She’d found Charlene happily working with Avery as if all was normal in their workplace. Had he sexually assaulted Deborah?
‘You’ve been married before, haven’t you?’ Briggs asked.
‘Yes. And you?’
‘Yes. Divorced. We were far too young when we met. She remarried an office worker. He’s home at five thirty every night.’
‘We were too young as well. I was so stupid back then,’ Gina said, and paused. ‘Back then, Terry was working in a tyre garage just down the road from the college. Every day, he’d smile as I passed. Eventually I agreed to a date, only a walk. I should’ve known that the relationship wasn’t going to go well from that point. He was late, really late, and I waited for ages, like a muppet. When he eventually arrived, he was so sweet that I forgave him instantly. Stupid.’
‘We’ve all been made a fool of,’ Briggs replied as he took a gulp of his wine.
But Terry had been bad from the start, and Gina had chosen to igno
re the signs because she craved something from him: love, attention, self-esteem maybe.
She checked her phone for messages. There was still nothing from Hannah. She opened up Facebook to see if Hannah had posted any updates. For a change, there was nothing angry, just a couple of photos of Gracie sitting in her highchair with a yoghurt beard. Her finger hovered over the like button, but she didn’t press it.
‘Am I boring you?’
‘No, sorry. Family troubles. My daughter’s not talking to me at the moment.’ As she made to put her phone down, it began to ring. ‘Jacob?’
‘I just thought I’d see if there was anything new to report,’ he said.
‘Wyre and O’Connor are still typing up the reports from earlier. They should be available to view soon. I’m heading home in a minute. I’ll type up all my notes too, then I’ll email you. How’re you feeling?’ Gina asked. Jessie began to bark as the wind howled.
‘Sick, tired, headachy, full of it. Have you got a dog now?’
‘No. It’s just the neighbour’s dog.’ Briggs went red as he held in a snigger. ‘I was talking to Wyre earlier, and we have a few thoughts. I’ll fill you in as soon as I get back. I won’t be long. Got to go.’ She ended the call and slumped back into the sofa as Briggs burst into fits of laughter.
‘That was close,’ she said. ‘What the hell are we doing?’
‘We’re doing what most mature, healthy adults do,’ he replied.
‘I’d best go.’
‘Why don’t you stay? You’ve got your laptop in the car, haven’t you? And I have an unopened toothbrush in the cupboard.’
‘Always prepared?’
‘No. Mine is getting scraggy.’
‘I’ll pass. I have to feed my cat.’
‘Okay.’ He stood and walked with her towards the door. She grabbed her coat and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Maybe another time,’ he said.