The Next Girl(Detective Gina Harte #1)(2)

‘Deal. Two hours.’ She reached into her other pocket and pulled out a pill. ‘Do you want one? Ten pounds and we both have good time?’

‘No, but you go ahead.’ The woman tossed the pill to the back of her throat, head twitching as she leaned her neck back and swallowed it whole. Closing the passenger door, she rested back into the seat and closed her eyes as he drove out of the town, heading along the Alcester Highway towards Warwickshire. A few miles past the small industrial town of Cleevesford was his destination – Marcliff, to be exact. It was one in the morning; he had until three. They would walk, he could talk, and then he would drop her back.

You could drop her back now. Do the right thing, he thought.

His heart fluttered as he glanced over at her. There was only him and the sleeping whore in the car.

‘Are we there yet?’ The woman stirred as she wiped a trail of saliva from the corner of her mouth.

‘Nearly,’ he said as he put his foot down, weaving through the country lanes.



* * *



As he pulled up alongside the river, he watched her sleeping. Maybe it was the warmth of the car, the hum of the engine or whatever was in the pill she had taken. The fields stretched ahead for miles, and except for the light of the moon, there was nothing but darkness. He opened the door and the woman stirred. She smiled and leaned closer to him, massaging his groin over his corduroys. He leaned back, allowing her to unzip and stroke him. He felt himself harden as she released him from his clothing and expertly placed a condom over his penis. She leaned down to take him in her mouth. He wrenched her hair.

‘Ouch, tosser.’

‘Not that. Don’t do that.’ He paused, listening to the blood coursing through his temples. ‘Bitch.’

‘Take me back now. Call me bitch, grab me like that. Weirdo, that’s what you are, you bloody weirdo.’

He gasped for breath, wanting to shout, to scream, to smash the dashboard up into hundreds of tiny pieces. He wasn’t a weirdo, he was just confused. Why couldn’t he be here with Debbie instead of this cheap whore?

‘Take me back. What are you? Deaf?’

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, you just caught me wrong and made me jump. You hurt me.’ He forced a smile. ‘Please, can we start again?’ She looked at him and sighed. ‘Could you just touch me with your hands?’ He removed the condom and dropped it by his feet.

‘Whatever, but don’t grab me again.’

‘Sorry. I’m truly sorry.’

As she continued to caress him with her warm hands, he closed his eyes and thought of Debbie. In his fantasy, the candles always glistened in the background.



* * *



They were in the barn and they’d just had dinner. She walked towards him and slipped off her dress to reveal her naked body. Her nipples glistened in the candlelight as she bent over on the sofa with her legs apart, begging him to take her. He kissed the small of her back as he slapped her buttocks. He couldn’t wait any longer, he needed to be in her. As he thrusted back and forth, his desire heightened. Almost there.



* * *



‘Come on, you do it, just do it, mister,’ the woman said as she stroked him vigorously.

‘What? What the— Stop! Stupid whore – get off me!’ He shouted as he pulled away and gasped for air. ‘I’m so sorry, Debbie, so sorry.’ He stumbled out of the car and zipped his trousers up, taking the keys with him.

‘Prick!’ she shouted.

He’d betrayed Debbie, the only woman he’d ever loved. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid,’ he said as he paced the riverbank and slapped himself across the head. What if Debbie were to ever find out what a dirty man he’d been?

The sound of the River Avon gushing through the weir brought him back to the situation in hand. He realised he was shivering to the point his muscles were in pain. Cold, it was so cold.

The woman staggered over to him and lit a cigarette. ‘You want puff to calm the hell down? Then you take me back and don’t forget my other hundred. I think I bloody well earned it with you.’

He shook his head. Was she mocking him and his inability to respond to her charms? He detected a grin on her face. Was the grin aimed at him? They walked until they reached the lock. He stared into the calmness of the water, then his gaze darted across to the violent gushing of the weir next to it.

He shook his head again. ‘What have I done? What the hell have I done?’ He continued pacing. A curl of the woman’s cigarette smoke filled his nostrils. Along with his churning stomach, it made him want to spew. He watched as she walked over the lock’s bridge, staring at the water below. He couldn’t let her tell anyone. If Debbie ever found out… He shuddered. It wasn’t going to happen. She turned as he reached her.

‘By time you take me back, will be two hours.’ She dropped her cigarette into the water and started walking back down, almost tripping over the stones on the pathway. As she turned, he gripped her arms. ‘Please let go of me,’ she said, her eyes glassy. When he didn’t, she began to struggle. ‘Let me go!’ she yelled as she tried to grab his face and poke at his eyes.

He forced her back towards the bridge, and then with what seemed like no effort at all, he pushed her slight frame into the ice-cold water below. He listened as her body cracked the thin layer of ice coating the top of the water. With a head first, fifteen-foot drop into freezing cold water, she wouldn’t stand a chance. He watched as she gasped for air, her voice echoing in the lock, ‘I can’t swim! Help!’ She gagged on a mouth full of water. He stared down and caught her distorted features as the moonlight lit up one side of her pained face. His heart was beating so fast he was sure he’d have a heart attack – then the splashing finally stopped. Ten minutes he waited. There had been no noise, no more thrashing and no shouting.