by Jane Blythe
“Yes, Sofia, we told them everything we know, and now I think it’s time for you to be heading home. And for the detectives to be leaving. I’m sure they have many more people to interview about this unfortunate event.” Logan II stood, and the others clearly took this as a sign of dismissal. Within seconds the room had cleared. “I’ll call for one of the drivers to take you home,” Logan told Sofia.
Seizing the opportunity to garner some alone time with Sofia, because she seemed like the most forthright member of the family he assured himself, and not because she stirred up needs and wants and desires within him. “Ms. Everette, I can see you safely home,” he announced.
Silver eyes shone with delight. “Thank you, how sweet.”
“We don’t want to impose,” Logan II spoke tightly, clearly annoyed but trying not to show it. “I’m sure the detectives are busy.”
“It’s no imposition,” Ryan smiled sweetly. “May I help you to your wheelchair, Ms. Everette?”
Debating for a second then she smiled, a beautiful smile that lit her whole face. “Only if you start calling me Sofia.”
“Sofia it is,” Ryan smiled back. Taking her hand, he helped her stand, steadying her as she got her balance, then guided her to the wheelchair, noticing her barely perceptible sigh of relief as she settled into it.
“I’d really rather one of the drivers take you home, Sofia,” Logan followed them as they started for the front door. “You’re not well and I’d feel much better if there was someone to make sure you were settled safely inside. You know I don’t like you living by yourself so far away from the rest of us.”
“I’m sure Detective Xander will see me inside.” Sofia gave her father a frustrated glare. “Now please stop trying to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
As he drove off down the driveway with Sofia settled in the passenger seat, Ryan couldn’t quite help a satisfied smile from lighting his lips as a fuming Logan Everette stood in the doorway watching them drive away.
* * * * *
1:21 P.M.
“He’s not really worried about my health, you know.”
“Who isn’t?”
Detective Xander took his eyes off the road to look over at her. Sofia thought he had beautiful eyes—so very, very blue. In fact, if she was honest, Sofia thought everything about him was beautiful, or maybe handsome was a better word. His face was tanned. She guessed he spent lots of time outdoors. She loved the outdoors, or at least she had before she’d gotten sick. He was tall; he had to be almost an entire foot taller than her own five foot four, and delightfully muscled in all the right places. And he had the sweetest dimples she had ever seen. She wondered what it would feel like to be held against his hard chest, cradled in his strong arms, his gorgeous face smiling at her like she was the only woman in the . . .
“Sofia?”
Realizing she’d been daydreaming, she blinked to find he’d slowed the car and was watching her with concern. In the last few months she’d gotten very used to seeing that look.
“Are you okay? You went all glassy-eyed.”
“I’m okay,” she smiled, touched by his obvious concern. Maybe this sweet, handsome guy was what she had been waiting for—her knight in shining armor, her soul mate, the man she was destined to spend her life with. Putting aside thoughts of that nature for the time being, she recalled what she’d been talking about before she’d gotten distracted. “My father wasn’t really worried about you taking me home because of my health; he was worried that I’m going to tell you something I shouldn’t. Well at least something he thinks I shouldn’t tell you.”
“It didn’t seem like you let him dictate what you do,” a smile crept over Detective Xander’s face.
A rush of warmth flooded through her as she realized that Detective Xander was proud of her. “No, I don’t,” she agreed, returning his smile. She knew he wasn’t just making idle chitchat or making an attempt to get to know her better. He wanted to find out as much as he could about her family because he believed it would help him do his job, and since his job was to find a killer, Sofia was happy to oblige.
“Seems like you’re the only woman in your family who doesn’t keep her mouth shut; your mom and sisters-in-law all seemed scared of your dad. Doesn’t he intimidate you?”
Unable to stop a laugh from escaping. “Of course, he does! You’ve met the judge, he has a presence. He intimidates me like crazy, I just won’t allow it to over-power me. Oh, and Gloria isn’t my mother,” she added, growing serious.
“What?!” the car swerved wildly for a second while Detective Xander gaped at her in shock, then struggled with the wheel to get things back on track. “What did you say?” his blue eyes wide.
“Gloria isn’t my mother,” she repeated. “Or Logan’s, Lewis’, Lincoln’s, or Isabella’s.”
“You mean you were all adopted?”
“No.”
“Sofia, I know you’re tired and not feeling well, but I have a killer who cut an unborn child from its mother’s womb before murdering her . . .”
Detective Xander trailed off, shooting her a distressed look, but it was too late, he’d already said the words and Sofia knew she was never going to forget them. “I’m going to be sick,” she rolled down the window, hoping the fresh air would calm her roiling stomach.
“Sofia, I’m sorry . . .”
“Seriously, Detective Xander, I’m going to be sick.”
Seemingly taking her at her word, he pulled the car to the side of the road. The second it stopped moving, she yanked open the door and stumbled out. She managed to move a few feet from the car before falling to her knees and throwing up what little food she’d eaten so far today. The thought of someone doing that to another human being was truly horrifying. The thought of someone doing that to a poor innocent baby was beyond repulsive.
“Here, drink this,” Ryan pushed a bottle of water into her hand.
She took it, her hands shaking so violently that she sloshed water all over herself as she brought it to her lips. The cold water helped to calm her a little, and after she drank some, she pressed the bottle to the pounding pulse points on her neck, allowing the water to cool her down.
“I’m so sorry, Sofia. I wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t have said that. You didn’t need to know what happened to Brooke and her baby.”
The true repentance in his voice melted away some of the horror that swam inside her. “I know you didn’t mean to tell me.”
“You’re shaking,” he commented, his face a picture of earnest dismay.
“I know, just give me a moment and I’ll be okay.” She wiggled backwards till she rested against the side of his car.
“Tell me about Gloria,” Detective Xander’s voice rumbled in her ear and she realized he’d sat down beside her.
“Gloria?” Her mind was stuck on an image of some faceless shadow cutting Brooke’s baby from her body.
“Sofia,” he gently hooked a finger under her chin and tugged till she faced him. “I’m truly sorry for telling you what happened to Brooke and her baby. I wasn’t thinking. I am as horrified by it as you are, but anything you tell me might help me to find the person who did it and find that baby before it’s too late.”
“You really think the baby may still be alive?” She asked, trying not to fan the tiny glimmer of hope that flared up.
“Yes, I really do.”
She studied his serious blue eyes, allowing them to soothe, almost mesmerize her. When she was calm enough to talk she began, “The judge wanted children right away, but Gloria couldn’t get pregnant. It took her seven years before she finally conceived and carried a child to term, Logan Everette III . . .”
“Your brother?” Detective Xander interrupted, brow furrowed in confusion. “I thought you said Gloria wasn’t a mother to any of you?”
“No,” she shook her head a little two firmly causing a wave of dizziness to wash over her. “Logan Everette III died when he was two, some sort of drowning accident. I’m not quite sure o
f all the details; no one ever talks about it. Today you met Logan Everette IV. I guess after their son died, the judge decided that his wife was never going to provide him with an heir, so he took matters into his own hands. I guess he found someone who was willing to let him get her pregnant and then give up the baby. I assume he paid them to do so. That’s how he got Logan, Lewis, Lincoln and me,” she finished sadly. She couldn’t count the number of times as a child she’d wished for her mother—her real mother—for someone who would love her and care for her and make her feel wanted.
“Gloria wasn’t much of a mother to you?” Detective Xander took her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze.
“I don’t think she ever got over the loss of her son, and I’m sure she never wanted the judge to go and buy himself some babies. But he wanted heirs—heirs that were his own flesh and blood—so she went along with it. She was a mother to us in name only.” Sofia hated to play the poor little rich girl, but she knew firsthand that money did not buy one happiness.
“Come on, let’s get you home,” Detective Xander announced after letting her sit for a moment.
“Yeah, I am a little tired.” Sofia hated the illness that had basically robbed her of her life. No longer could she lead the active life she once had. She couldn’t even make it through a day without having to take a nap, and she was unable to walk even short distances, let alone long ones, without getting exhausted. She’d completely lost her appetite, and as a result, a substantial amount of weight.
“Here, let me help,” Detective Xander slipped an arm around her waist and practically lifted her off the ground and into the car.
Once Detective Xander had buckled her in, after patiently letting her trembling hands make several attempts at snapping the seat belt closed, she rested her head against the window and shut her eyes. The car had always lulled her to sleep since she was a little girl, and before she knew it, Detective Xander was shaking her gently and announcing that they had reached her house.
“This isn’t quite where I expected you to be living,” Detective Xander commented mildly as he wheeled her along the garden path to the front door.
“You expected a mansion?” she asked with a wry smile. People were always surprised when they saw her modest weatherboard cottage, but Sofia loved the little house so much more than the large estate she had grown up on. She lived alone with her cat so they didn’t need much space, and the small front and back yards were a perfect size for her to manage on her own. This place was her home, her sanctuary, the one place she felt safe.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.” Detective Xander had obviously taken her silence for anger.
She tilted her head to smile up at him. “No offense taken,” she assured him, standing when they reached the bright yellow door and rummaging through her purse for the key. Pushing open the door she bent down to pat Raggy, her ragdoll cat, who always greeted her with a meow and a purr. “Leave the wheelchair by the door,” she instructed as she led Detective Xander down the small hall. There was a lounge room on the left with the dining room on the right. The kitchen and sitting room were at the back. “I guess you can tell yellow is my favorite color,” she swept an arm around the room where everything from the walls to the furniture coverings to the décor were various shades of yellow.
“I like it,” he offered her a shy smile. “Yellow always makes me feel warm, even on the coldest of days.”
“Me too,” she grinned back, catching the hidden meaning in his words; she didn’t think he was just talking about the weather. “My father disinherited me,” she explained, not quite sure why she felt such a strong compulsion to tell him private details about her life.
“He did what?” Detective Xander looked outraged.
She shrugged. It wasn’t the money she cared about, it was the lack of love from the only parent she had. “I wouldn’t follow his instructions on who I ought to marry.”
“That man is infuriating, and I’ve only met him once,” Detective Xander muttered.
Laughing, she agreed, “That he is, and he would be thrilled to hear you describe him as such.”
“Are you going to be okay here by yourself? Is there someone I can call to come stay with you?”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’m used to being on my own, I kind of enjoy it.”
“Well, is there anything I can do, maybe get you something to eat?”
Sofia grimaced at the thought of food. “No, thanks, I think I’ll go lie down for a while. I know you're busy and probably have somewhere you need to be, and I know I've already slowed you down, but if you wouldn’t mind, could you help me up the stairs? I can manage; it just takes me so long.”
“Of course.”
“Are you sure it’s no trouble, Detective Xander?”
“Please call me Ryan, and it’s no trouble at all,” he assured her. She thought she caught the ghost of a wistful smile on his lips, but when she looked closer, it was gone.
Taking her elbow, he helped her take the stairs one at a time. With each step, she found herself getting more and more out of breath, reminding her once again how she hated this illness that had taken so much from her.
“I hope I'm not overstepping the bounds,” Ryan said as he swung her up into his arms.
For a second Sofia was mortified, but then relief settled in, and she was simply glad she didn’t have to deal with those stairs anymore. Besides, she reminded herself, he’d already seen her throw up, so after that, being carried up a few stairs was nothing.
“Which door?” Ryan asked, pausing in the hallway.
“Straight ahead,” she replied. “I really need to brush my teeth.”
Balancing her with one arm, he used the other to swing open the door and set her down in front of the mirror.
“Sorry, but can I ask one more favor?”
“Of course.”
“Would you mind closing the drapes in my room and taking the quilt off the bed?”
“No problem.” He paused by the door, “Are you going to be all right in here on your own?”
“Yes. I promise,” she added when he hesitated, then she closed the door behind him and sunk down onto the edge of the bath, resting her pounding head in her hands. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t dislodge the image of Brooke Mariano from her mind. Hopefully, she’d feel better after some sleep; she usually did. Besides, she had no time to mope around and feel sorry for herself; she had another charity banquet in a couple of days, and there was still a lot to do to prepare for it. Resolutely gathering her last reserves of strength, she stood, swallowed a couple of painkillers, and gave her teeth the brushing of their lives.
Stepping into the hall, she was surprised to see one of the spare bedroom doors wide open and realized she had forgotten to tell Ryan which room was hers. Sure enough, she found him standing in the middle of the room surrounded by over a dozen expensive gowns and dresses.
“I thought your father cut you off financially?” he asked when he spotted her.
“He did. He may not like my choices, but he still expects an Everette to look a certain way in public,” she explained. “I only wear these to charity benefits, my normal clothes are in my closet.” He followed her to her room, staying close behind her, she guessed to catch her in the event her legs gave out. “The judge financially supports my charities; I guess he thinks it makes him look good to the public. Plus, I use my family name to attract wealthy benefactors. Thankfully, since I work for the charities full-time, I’m given a small living allowance that helps me make ends meet.”
Ryan removed the quilt from her bed and closed the drapes while she pulled off her shoes and settled with a weary sigh onto the soft mattress. So thankful to be off her feet, Sofia could already feel her eyes closing and sleep pulsing at the edges of her mind.
“Do the doctors know what’s wrong with you?” Ryan asked, standing at the edge of the bed and watching her with his gorgeous big blue eyes.
Shaking her head, “No, and I hav
e had every test you could ever imagine.”
“I was at the police banquet where you collapsed.” He sat beside her, perched on the edge of the bed, looking like he wanted to say more but wasn’t quite sure how to get the words out.
“At first, the doctors were optimistic they would determine what was wrong, but as they crossed more and more things off their lists I guess they kind of grew hopeless that they would ever find out what was wrong with me. And so did I.” Many a night in the last three months she had cried herself to sleep, so exhausted and with no glimmer of hope that her life would ever return to what it had been.
“I should be going,” Ryan announced abruptly.
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and with sleep coming on quickly, Sofia was scared that with it would come nightmares of what had happened to Brooke. Catching his hand as he went to move toward the door, “Ryan, could you, would you mind, I know you must think I am the world’s biggest baby, but if you don’t mind could you stay until I fall asleep? I have very vivid dreams, especially when I’m stressed.”
Face softening, “Of course I will.”
He brushed a lock of hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear, then stared at her so intently that Sofia was positive he was about to kiss her, but then his gaze shifted and he pulled the blankets up, tucking her in as though she were a child. Sleep had taken over most of her mind when she realized Ryan still held her hand. She liked the feel of his warm, strong hand holding hers; it made her feel safe.
“Ryan?”
“Yes?”
She’d been debating telling him something since their earlier discussion about Gloria, but had held back, sure that it had no bearing whatsoever on Brooke’s brutal murder. “I don’t think it means anything, but I thought you should know…”
“Know what?”
She could feel his eyes watching her, even though hers were closed. “Brooke is–was–Isabella’s mother.”
