The Girls Next Door

Book 1: Detective Eden Berrisford

by Mel Sherratt

Genres: International Crime & Mystery; Police Procedurals; Female Sleuths; Suspense

Synopsis

One warm spring evening, five teenagers meet in a local park. Only four will come out alive.

Six months after the stabbing of fifteen-year-old Deanna Barker, someone is coming after the teenagers of Stockleigh, as a spate of vicious assaults rocks this small community. Revenge for Deanna? Or something more?

Detective Eden Berrisford is locked into a race against time to catch the twisted individual behind the attacks – but when her own niece, Jess Mountford, goes missing, the case gets personal. With the kidnapper threatening Jess’ life, can Eden bring back her niece to safety? Or will the people of Stockleigh be forced to mourn another daughter…?

A terrifying, compelling police procedural which will thrill fans of Angela Marsons, The Teacher, and Rachel Abbott.

Praise for The Girls Next Door

"This is a definite 5* read for me.'" Angela Marsons, author of Silent Scream and Blood Lines

"A heart-pounding, breath holding, twisty-turny read. I highly recommend this book." Caroline Mitchell, author of The Silent Twins

" Grabbed me straight from the off and didn’t let me go." By The Letter Book Reviews 5*

" The Girls Next Door is the perfect recipe for an exquisite crime thriller … Emotional, gritty and full of some OMFG twists, I dare you NOT to want to read this book!" Crime Book Junkie

"Mel Sherratt has a knack for writing accessible, likeable and fundamentally human characters, The Girls Next Door was no different. I found the plot really engaging too … I raced through it and couldn’t put it down as I reached the final few chapters!" Bibliophile Book Club

Release date: October 27, 2016

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 318

Sample

Katie Trent dragged her feet as she walked down the street towards the park. Her best friend, Jess, was ill and already she felt lost without her, even though lately she seemed to be glued to the hip of her boyfriend, Cayden.

When Jess had rang to say she wasn’t able to go out that night, Katie had suggested calling to see her instead of going to meet Nathan. Nathan was her new boyfriend – but not by choice. It was Cayden who had wanted her to get friendly with him. He saw Nathan as their inroad, their ticket to more involvement with the Barker brothers.

Katie didn’t really like him that much. Although she knew some of her other friends were envious because he was attractive in a bad-boy way, his moods were volatile and she hadn’t wanted to meet him unless it was in a foursome.

But Jess had been adamant that she should go without her, said it was important that she keep up the act. It was all right for Jess, she thought. She didn’t have to have Nathan’s tongue rammed down her throat. She shuddered involuntarily.

The weather was warm for the end of April, the night sky clear but darkening by the minute as it edged towards 8 p.m. Katie tapped along in her heels, feeling grown-up in her new ankle boots. She was wearing Jess’s top and a leather jacket that she’d told her mum was a knock-off from a cheap shop in Stockleigh, rather than costing her a fortune from Topshop. Her parents didn’t approve of her wearing too much make-up, so once she’d left her house she’d added some more. She hoped it made her seem more mature, helping to hide her nerves a little.

On the Mitchell Estate, she headed across Reginald Square, turned the corner and crossed Davy Road into the park. There was grass on either side of the gravel path that led up to the children’s play area, the lawn sloping up to her right. In the distance was the subway she and her friends hung around inside of when it was raining.

Her heart sank as she spotted Nathan with two other boys at the top of the bank. It was all right when Cayden and Jess were with her, but Nathan was two years older, so his friends were older too. If Jess was with her, she would feel safe. Her feet stopping abruptly, she turned to leave. Jess would go mad but suddenly she didn’t care.

‘Katie!’

She paused before turning around to see Nathan beckoning to her. She couldn’t back down now, so she started walking towards him again.

‘Where’s your mate?’ Nathan asked as she drew level with them. He threw an arm possessively around her shoulders. ‘That bimbo Jess?’

‘She’s not a bimbo!’ Katie tried to sound outraged, but her voice didn’t carry as much authority as she had hoped.

The two boys with Nathan began to snigger. She had seen them both before several times: Twins Tom and Craig Cartwright. They were all wide-eyed and their mood seemed a little oppressive. Craig was checking his phone and Tom kept looking over towards the path that led into the subway.

‘So you’re all alone.’ Nathan asked a question that obviously needed no answer. ‘It’ll be nice to get to know you at last, once we’ve sorted some business out.’

Katie tried not to grimace as he thrust his face nearer to hers, his breath rank. He’d definitely been taking something.

‘Do you want a smoke?’ he asked, pushing a spliff to her lips.

‘No, thanks.’ Katie disliked it with a passion after watching her granddad smoke forty a day and die a painful death from lung cancer. Alcohol she was fine with, and the odd happy pill. But these boys had taken more than that, it seemed. Nathan’s pupils were like black bullet holes.

‘So where is Jess?’ he asked again, looking at his watch before glancing down the bank.

‘She’s poorly.’

Nathan pulled a sad face. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll keep you company. Won’t we, lads?’

Katie swallowed. Being on her own with Nathan would be bad enough but with these two loons as well? She had to be home by ten anyway, but she would stay for an hour and then maybe slip off on the pretence of getting some lager or something. She’d kill Jess when she got her hands on her. That bloody Cayden!

‘He’s on his way,’ said Craig, pointing down below. They all followed the direction of his finger.

Katie could see someone walking along the path. He wore baggy jeans, trainers and a black hoodie with a yellow emblem on the back, the hood pulled up so his face was almost hidden.

‘Who’s that?’ she asked, sensing the mood darkening even further.

‘Travis Barker – and he’s going to get what’s coming to him.’ Nathan began to jog down the bank towards him.

Tom threw his cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with the toe of his boot before following Nathan, Craig hot on his heels.

Katie watched them sneaking up on the figure. Just as he was about to disappear into the subway, she saw Nathan punch him in the side of the head. The boy, taken by surprise, dropped to his knees before scrambling up and turning to face them. Nathan punched him in the face this time. So did Craig. Tom drew back his foot and aimed a kick at him when he dropped to the floor for a second time.

As if they were a pack of wild dogs, they rained punches and kicks down on the boy as he tried to curl up into a ball. For a moment Katie froze, unsure how to stem the rage that was coming from them. Then she saw Nathan flick out a knife.

‘No,’ she whispered.

Rigid with fear, she watched Nathan thrust the knife into the boy’s stomach. It was as if time stood still as he pulled it out and then stabbed him repeatedly.

‘Stop! Please!’ Katie screamed and ran down the bank towards them as they continued their attack. Finding courage she didn’t know she had, she pushed first Craig and then Tom away as hard as she could, hoping it would snap them out of the red mist that must have descended.

Nathan glared at her but dropped the knife.

She scrambled across to the boy and knelt down beside him. There was blood coming from his mouth and he was making gurgling noises as he fought for breath. His hood fell from his face, and Katie recoiled. It wasn’t a boy. It was a girl.

And Katie knew her.

‘Deanna? Oh, no, Deanna.’ She pulled her into her arms and looked up at the boys. ‘This isn’t Travis. It’s his sister!’

‘It’s a girl?’ Tom grabbed hold of his hair with both hands. ‘Shit, what did we do?’

‘Call an ambulance!’ Katie cried.

‘She’s dead, isn’t she?’ Craig turned to Nathan. ‘This is your fault! No one mentioned anything about a knife!’

Nathan shook his head vehemently. ‘She’s breathing, look!’

‘But she’s bleeding!’ Craig pointed at Deanna.

Katie held Deanna as she thrashed about, trying to catch her breath. ‘Call for an ambulance,’ she screamed. ‘If she dies, we’re all in trouble!’

The enormity of what had happened began to dawn on Nathan, and he gripped the collar of Katie’s jacket. He pushed his face close to hers.

‘If you say anything, you’re dead, do you hear me? I’ll come after you and then I’ll come after your family.’ He let go and began to run.

‘She needs an ambulance!’ Katie yelled. But Tom and Craig followed Nathan’s lead and ran too.

Left with Deanna in her arms, all Katie could do was cry.

Please don’t let her die.

Deanna gasped, blood pouring from her mouth.

‘Try not to speak,’ Katie whispered, as she retrieved her phone from her jacket pocket. ‘The ambulance will be here soon. They’ll sort you out and get you better again.’

Please don’t let her die.

‘Ambulance please,’ Katie sobbed. ‘My friend has been stabbed.’ As she told the operator where they were, she gasped as Deanna’s eyes glazed over. She felt her body go limp in her arms. ‘No, Deanna, please! Deanna!’ She hugged her close, tears dripping into her hair.

It felt like hours but it was a matter of minutes before she heard the siren of the emergency services.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she repeated, looking down at Deanna. ‘I have to go too. I can’t stay here or else I’ll be in trouble.’

As two paramedics came into view at the top of the hill, she waved to alert them. They rushed down the bank towards her.

Katie gently laid Deanna’s head down on the grass. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she repeated. Then she too stood up and ran.

Detective Sergeant Eden Berrisford glanced at the young woman walking down the path next to her and sighed.

‘You’re twenty-six and it’s your wedding,’ she said, as they reached the pavement. ‘If you can’t stand up to your future mother-in-law before the big day, then you’re going to have a lot of problems in the long run.’

‘I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to stand up to her. She can’t say a word wrong in Seth’s eyes. She’s always interfering. She even comes around our house when we’re at work and starts tidying up.’

‘I wish someone would do that for me.’

Detective Constable Amy Nichols threw her a look as Eden smirked.

They walked down the road to where Eden’s car was parked. It was 3.30 p.m. and with the predicted storm gathering, it was dark enough for the reflectors on the doors to be working. Not yet turned from autumn to winter, the nights were getting shorter, but the clocks weren’t due to go back for another two weeks.

‘Jeez, it’s blowing a gale out here,’ Eden complained. ‘It seems to be getting worse by the minute. I’m glad I’m not on duty this evening.’

‘There’s definitely a storm brewing in there, Sarge.’ Amy raised her eyebrows. ‘I’d like to punch him myself if I could, the arrogant git.’

Eden and Amy had been taking a statement from a woman and her partner who were being terrorised by her ex-husband. Eden had had several run-ins with the man over the years she had been in the force, so knew when it came down to it that the woman wouldn’t press charges. She was too scared, and even now that they could put the evidence in front of the CPS without the victims’ consent, there wasn’t enough of it to satisfy a conviction. Instead, all Eden could do was build up a file in the hope that she could persuade the woman to go down that route one day.

A call came through on the radio.

‘D429 to control room,’ said Eden, after listening. ‘We’re in the area right now so we’ll knock on and have a word. Show us responding.’

‘Received with thanks, D429.’

Even though she rarely got involved with day-to-day complaints now, Eden would never turn her back on the residents of Stockleigh. She wasn’t a jobsworth who thought things were beneath her now that she was a sergeant. Not like some at the station she could mention.

She glanced at Amy, seeing a kind pair of eyes underneath a straight fringe, a mass of blonde hair she wore in a long bob framing her oval face. They’d been working closely together for a month now and even though Amy’s small frame was a contrast to Eden’s height, she’d shown a punchy side to her that gave Eden the impression that most things didn’t faze her and that she could stick up for herself. So it was nice to see she had a caring side about her too: Amy seemed torn between having what she wanted and upsetting anyone with regards to her own wedding.

‘Why don’t you tell your future mother-in-law that you’ll compromise a little if she does?’ Eden said as they marched up another path. ‘You’ll wear frills and cover up your arms if she wears a black bag and matching eyeliner.’

‘I’d be dead if I said that to her,’ Amy said, laughing.

Eden glanced at the front door as a face appeared in the glass panel at its side.

They heard a bolt being drawn back, and a small elderly man popped his head around the doorframe.

‘Mr Percival?’ Eden placed her warrant card up to the gap, vaguely recognising the man’s face.

‘You’re too bloody late as usual,’ he snapped. The door was slammed in their faces.

Eden raised her eyebrows at Amy before they heard the chain being removed and the door opening again. They stepped into the bungalow as the man shuffled back inside with the aid of a walking stick. As soon as they were in the living room, Eden spotted a framed wedding photograph on the wall and remembered where she knew the man from. She’d have recognised the woman in it anywhere. She had visited Mr Percival at a previous property many years ago, when she was on probation. Mrs Percival had died in her sleep and she had been the first officer on scene. It had been her first dead body, and if she remembered rightly he had made her a cup of tea when she had burst into tears at the sight of the woman lying peacefully in her bed.

He didn’t recognise her though, as he began to rant, arms waving, a stern look on his weathered face.

‘This is the third time this month they’ve nicked it,’ he told them, turning back to them slowly. ‘They use it for a bit of fun and then they leave it wherever the battery runs out. I’m stranded every time it goes missing. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t have anywhere to keep it, and the council won’t make me a ramp so I can get it in here – not that I have the room, but at least I could get up every morning and it would still be here. I missed the two thirty race at the bookies. Little bastards.’

‘Do you know who has taken it, Mr Percival?’ said Eden.

‘Lived here all my life I have,’ he continued. ‘Never known anything like it. And no, I didn’t see them. I’ve just got back from the shops and I left it outside. I only went to have a pee because I was desperate. Doctor gave me some stronger water tablets and the buggers are working overtime. I came back and it was gone.’

Eden stared out of the window. The Hopwood Estate stood on the other side of the bank of grass that dipped down to a brook that ran the length of the road. Rows and rows of houses and six-to-a-block flats clustered together in squares. It was like a rabbit warren if you didn’t know your way around and housed many of the families that gave Eden and her colleagues the most trouble. Smack bang in the middle of it was the Horse & Hound pub, where most of the estate’s residents could be found morning, noon or night. It was always the first port of call for the police when a warrant was issued for someone’s arrest. She wondered which little scrote had taken to thieving this time. It was all a game to them.

Once Amy had taken down the details, there was nothing else they could do. ‘I’ll get someone onto this once we get back to the station, and we’ll have a drive around to see if we can see any—’ She stopped as a mobility scooter raced past the window, driven by a teenager who was screaming at the top of his voice as if he was in the Wild West on bare horseback. ‘Won’t be a moment, Mr Percival.’

Eden ran out of the bungalow with Amy on her tail. Having the advantage of an unmarked car and plain clothes, they weren’t spotted immediately by the thief, but as soon as he saw them giving chase, he sped up as much as he could.

‘You won’t catch me, lardarses!’ the boy shouted, throwing them a finger as he pushed the lever on full power.

‘If you don’t bring that back right this minute,’ Eden yelled, ‘I’ll shove it right up your—’

Amy came rushing past Eden and gained on the scooter. She had nearly reached it, her hand outstretched as it veered off the road and up over the pavement.

The teenager wobbled and lost control as it hit the grass verge. It toppled over, tipping the driver off with it. As the scooter went one way, Amy legged him over and Eden got out her cuffs.

‘Liam Matson, I’m arresting you for the theft of a mobility scooter.’ Eden’s breath was heavy. ‘You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?’

‘You’re hurting me!’ he cried. ‘Police brutality!’

‘I intend to hurt you, you selfish little shit.’ Eden pulled him to his feet as Amy came back up the grass verge, pushing the scooter. They reached the road again and Eden put him in the back of her car before radioing through for a uniform to come and pick him up. She might have done the collar, but she sure as hell wasn’t doing the paperwork if she could get away with it.

‘What do I do with this, Sarge?’ Amy nodded in the direction of the scooter.

‘You’ll look quite fetching on it.’ Eden grinned. ‘You can have the pleasure of driving it back to Mr Percival.’

Amy’s eyes widened. ‘Why me? Can’t uniform do it when they get here?’

‘Call it your initiation test.’

‘For what?’ Amy frowned.

‘YouTube. The last time I did that it was all over social media by the time I got back to the nick, and I’m not having that again.’

‘I thought you were partial to scooters,’ Amy teased. ‘You know, with you owning a Lambretta?’

‘I’ll have you know it has to have a flyscreen with sixteen mirrors, chrome work and air horns for me to be interested in it.’ Eden grinned. ‘Now get on and drive. I promise not to take any photos to share.’

Cayden Blackwell pulled up the hood of his jacket as the wind battled with it. It had stopped raining heavily, but it was still spitting the fine stuff. He was going to be soaked through if he didn’t get to Jess’s soon. He checked his watch: 5.30 p.m. He’d better hurry.

Trust him to say he would call for Jess and bring her back to his house. The only reason he was over that way was because he’d needed to see his friend, and his mum would be suspicious if Travis Barker called at their house. For starters, she’d want to know why he was there, darkening her door, and then what he wanted with Cayden. Then she’d probably tell him to keep out of Travis’s way – or worse, tell Travis to sling his hook.

Even though Travis Barker was a known troublemaker, Cayden was hoping he’d be his ticket to earning some good cash – not just the odd twenty quid here and there that he was accustomed to. He wanted in with some of the bigger jobs he knew Travis was involved with now.

With business out of the way, he couldn’t wait to see Jess, especially knowing that his house was empty and they could get it on in peace for once. Last night had been parents’ evening, and as his brother had been doing well in his first year at high school, their mum and dad were taking him out for a pizza. They’d offered to take Cayden too but he’d declined, saying he needed to study for his exams. Well, that would be right if he was studying anatomy.

All he wanted to do was get his hands on Jess. Tonight there would be no little Lloyd to run in and interrupt them. No Mum to knock on the door with a cup of tea for them both, on the pretext of caring when all she wanted was to make sure they didn’t do anything ‘untoward’ under her roof. No Dad to give them a leery grin and crack wise remarks every time he saw them. It was beyond embarrassing at times.

Cayden and Jess had started dating a couple of months before her best friend, Katie Trent, had been sent to a secure unit and three of his friends had been placed on remand in a youth offending institution for the murder of Deanna Barker. He’d fancied Jess long before then, but she had been the most popular girl in school and he hadn’t been the most popular boy. She wasn’t a sleep-around. Some had said she was a tough nut to crack, but it hadn’t bothered him. They’d messed around a few times now and while his olds were out, they’d have time to do it again. He felt an unfurling in his groin. Maybe she could do something about that, he smirked, like she had the last time his house had been empty.

Cayden lived on The Cavendales, a walled estate with over fifty large detached houses. It backed onto fields on the outskirts of Stockleigh. Peppermint Avenue was a small cul-de-sac with only seven houses. His parents ran their own IT business and had moved in when the houses had first been erected in 2003. Last year they had built him and Lloyd a loft room above the double garage. Yet even that hadn’t meant he and Jess could get any peace as his brother often came storming in, purposely. Tonight they would have a good two hours to mess around before anyone was home.

The pavements were like a ghost town; the only thing out was passing cars. Bright headlights shone in the fading light and rainwater splashed up as tyres hit the puddles that had formed in the past hour.

Cayden pulled in his collar as he crossed Railton Drive and headed into the cut-through that would take him onto the main road and back to Jess’s house. He wondered whether to call in at Shop&Save for a couple of cans and some chocolate. Residents on The Cavendales had fought against having any kind of shop, for fear of bringing in gangs of youths to hang around and cause trouble. They hadn’t even been able to get a pub, not like on the Mitchell Estate where some of his mates lived. So most of the time, he and Jess hung around away from home.

Earplugs in, he listened to music on his phone, watching where his feet were treading to avoid the puddles that had collected on the tarmac. He checked through his messages to see if there was anything from Travis about their conversation earlier but there was nothing new.

Music blaring, he wasn’t able to hear footfall behind him. He felt a crack to the back of his legs and he dropped to the floor, cursing as the knees of his jeans began to soak in the rainwater. He stood up quickly, pulling his earplugs out and hanging them around his neck.

‘What the hell is your problem?’ Cayden’s brow furrowed. He’d expected it to be someone he knew fooling around, playing a joke that had gone a little too far. But facing him was what looked like a man, dressed in dark clothes and boots and wearing a balaclava. He had a piece of three-by-two wood raised in the air.

‘I don’t want any trouble, mate.’ Cayden held up a hand in surrender.

The man came towards him again and smashed the wood across the side of his face. Pain shot through Cayden. . .