Two (Count to Ten Book 2)

by Jane Blythe

  Another shrug. “Gloria was good in bed but other than that she doesn’t have many endearing qualities. Again, I’ve already moved on.”

  “How long did you work for the family, Mr. Payne?” Paige asked, hoping to get some insight into the Everette family from someone who knew them.

  “Going on twelve years.”

  “What can you tell us about them?”

  “Well like I said, the judge is a hypocrite. You wouldn’t believe the number of times I’ve had to distract spouses of the women he’s had affairs with. Or the people I’ve paid off to keep his secrets.”

  “Anyone you can think of who may hate the judge enough to do this?”

  “No one crazy enough to kill. Mostly lawyers, businessmen, rich guys who could never have enough money, but as much as they had something over the judge, he had enough over them to make sure everyone kept their mouths shut.”

  “What about Gloria? You said she got her own back against Logan Senior sometimes, could there have been other affairs besides you?” Paige questioned, surprised by this side of Gloria Everette.

  “Oh, I’m sure there was, but I don’t know of any specifically. Most of the time Gloria was weak, and she let the judge walk all over her. Did whatever he told her to. Played the good supportive wife and mother. Put up with the judge’s abuse. But sometimes she’d had enough, needed someone’s arms to cry in, someone to make her feel wanted, but mostly she just wanted to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Mostly her son, the one who died as a toddler. She’d attempted suicide a few years after the wedding, met a doctor at the hospital, decided if the judge could cheat, she could too, and she ended up pregnant. Unfortunately, the little boy died when he was only two. She never got over it.”

  “And their children?”

  “Lincoln was the quiet one, but personable. Lewis was the awkward one of the family, but relatively harmless. Logan, on the other hand, was a nasty one. I never liked him. He was cruel for cruel’s sake. Isabella’s a sneaky one. I would never underestimate that girl. Sofia I like, the only member of the family who’s actually a decent, kind person. She’s a really sweet girl.”

  “You mentioned that a doctor was the father of Gloria’s first son. Is there any chance he could have found out about her pregnancy and come back angry that his son was kept from him?” Paige thought it was a stretch but had to ask nonetheless.

  “I guess,” but Alan Payne looked unconvinced. “But if it was Gloria’s little boy’s father, why would he kill Brooke Mariano and Lewis and Samantha? Maybe he’d be angry at Gloria and the judge, but the others had nothing to do with it.”

  “Do you have a name?”

  “Gloria never mentioned one.”

  She and Ryan would look into it once they left here. “Mr. Payne, based on what you know about the Everette family, do you think it’s possible one of them might be the killer?”

  “I assume you’re really asking about Logan Senior and Junior.” He studied them for a long moment. “Either of them. I wouldn’t put anything past Logan Junior. And the judge, well . . .” he trailed off, seemingly debating with himself whether to continue or not.

  “Well?” Ryan prodded.

  “Well, Gloria always thought,” he continued somewhat reluctantly, “that her little boy’s death wasn’t an accident.”

  Understanding dawning, Paige exchanged a look with Ryan. “She thought her husband killed him?”

  Nodding, Mr. Payne answered, “She thought he found out about the affair, realized the child wasn’t his, and killed him. If Judge Everette can orchestrate the death of a two-year-old, then I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

  * * * * *

  4:38 P.M.

  The killer moved unnoticed through the house.

  So far, so good. Everything was running smoothly.

  Step by step, everything was falling into place.

  Brooke was dead. Lewis and Samantha were dead. Gloria was dead. And by this time tomorrow, another member of the Everette family would join them. It might have been more practical to take out the entire clan in one foul swoop, but that wouldn’t have been nearly so much fun.

  As enjoyable as this was, there was still a lot of work left to do.

  Most important was deciding on the next victim.

  It was undecided at the moment just who that would be.

  The killer paused in the doorway of Sofia Everette’s room. The girl was still drugged unconscious. She’d been placed on the bed and tucked under the covers, her red hair fanned out around her pale face, which even in sleep was creased in concern. Sofia was sick and weak, making her a good potential next victim. On the other hand, that meant that she wouldn’t put up as much of a fight as the others, which would make her murder much less exciting.

  Entering the room to sit on the edge of the bed, the killer watched the girl sleep. Sofia was too sweet, too honorable for her own good. She was going to get herself killed. This desire she had to help the police solve these murders was worrying. Perhaps taking her out next was for the best.

  And yet, that could produce a new problem. Sofia’s police detective admirer would likely be driven to stop at nothing to solve these crimes if Sofia was killed.

  Choices, choices. So many choices.

  Still, whichever direction things went next, it would be for the best.

  Sometimes just going with the moment gave the most profitable outcomes.

  The killer stalked outside Sofia’s room and headed outside into the warm summer sunshine. Smiling, pleased almost beyond measure with how well things were working out.

  Just a few more hours until the next kill.

  The rush from murder was getting intoxicating. Addicting. The possibility that even after the Everette family was decimated the killing would never stop was increasing.

  Still, that bridge could be crossed if or when the time came.

  For now, every drop of pleasure and enjoyment that could be wrung from this would be.

  Life was good.

  * * * * *

  7:52 P.M.

  “Uncle Ryan.”

  Two tiny torpedoes hurled themselves at him as he opened the door to his brother’s house, attaching themselves to his legs.

  “How’re my two favorite girls in the whole entire universe?” Ryan reached down and wrapped an arm around both his nieces, lifting the three-year-old twin girls so they sat on his shoulders. “What are you two still doing up? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

  “You missed dinner,” Elise looked at him reproachfully. “Daddy said we could stay up till you got here.”

  “I made a wand in preschool today,” Eve told him, her little hand jabbing his cheek as she spoke.

  “Cool,” he replied as he headed for the kitchen. “Maybe you could solve my case with your magic wand so I don’t miss dinner again.”

  Eve giggled, “I could make you a princess.”

  “Actually, sweetie, I think Uncle Ryan already has a princess in mind.” Mark grinned mischievously at them as they entered the kitchen.

  He glared at his younger brother. “Sorry I missed dinner,” he announced.

  “No problem,” Mark replied, although his tone implied he was annoyed by Ryan’s absence from the family meal. “Okay my little princesses, Mommy is waiting upstairs to tuck you in and read you a story. Give Uncle Ryan a kiss goodnight.”

  Both girls planted kisses on his cheeks.

  Ryan set both girls back down on the ground. “Nighty-night, superstars.” He kissed their blonde heads.

  Still giggling, the little girls ran up the stairs. Ryan watched them wistfully. He’d spent years convincing himself that he didn’t need a wife and kids. And yet every time he’d seen his younger brother with his family he’d known he was lying to himself. Deluding himself that he wanted to be alone because he was scared to get into another serious relationship after what happened with Katrina.

  “So, you finally met her.”

  Turning back to face his br
other, Mark’s grin had been replaced by a studious stare, which was mirrored in their older brother Jack’s face. Ryan knew that his family had been worried about him ever since he’d decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life alone. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know I have a slight crush on Sofia Everette?”

  “You really thought you were hiding that?” Jack grimaced. “Man, you really need lessons in hiding your feelings.”

  Seemingly he’d have to give up on the notion he had been successfully hiding his attraction to Sofia. “Yes, I met her.”

  “And . . .” Mark prodded.

  “And what?” Now he was frustrated.

  “And what’s she like?” Mark asked with exaggerated patience.

  Perfect, Ryan wanted to reply, but it was pointless. Sofia was already involved with someone and he was getting tired of reminding people of that. He was also getting tired of reminding himself of that. It seemed like his head and his heart couldn’t get in sync. In his head he knew that Sofia was off limits, and yet in his heart it didn’t change how he felt. He really wanted to believe Paige when she said she thought Sofia was interested in him, but he was reluctant to get his hopes up, especially after the disaster his last relationship had ended in.

  “I’m really not in the mood to talk about Sofia Everette, okay?”

  His brothers exchanged glances. “How’s your case going?” Jack asked.

  Jack was a homicide detective too, and they often bounced ideas off each other. “It’s going nowhere.” Nowhere seemed to be the big destination of his life.

  “You want to run it through?”

  Casting a glance at Mark, as similar as the brothers looked, all three were tall, well over six feet, all had the same bright blue eyes, the same blond hair, although Jack kept his head shaved smooth, but physical resemblance was as far as it went. Mark was the quiet one, the only one who was married with a family, the only one who had broken with family tradition and not joined the police force. He didn’t like to hear the gruesome details of their cases.

  “Go ahead,” Mark nodded with a smile. “Just leave out anything I'd rather not know.”

  He exhaled slowly, “There’s too many avenues,” he said at last. “Too many possible options and nothing to narrow it down. Judge Everette has cut down a lot of people in his career, so he has plenty of enemies. Plus, we heard some stuff about him that may indicate he could be violent. His son Logan Everette is cold, so again plausible that he could be the killer. He’s also not very smart, he has a reputation for having plenty of affairs, so he has plenty of enemies too. So we have the judge, his son, any of the women or their partners who have had affairs with either Logan, or anyone the judge climbed over on his way to the top.”

  “What’s your gut telling you?” Jack asked.

  Ryan considered this even though he already knew the answer. “The baby. It’s about the baby. The killer didn’t have to save it.”

  “Maybe he just couldn’t kill an innocent baby,” Mark suggested hopefully.

  “Okay,” Ryan nodded. “Let’s say he . . .” He caught himself just in time from once again blurting out that the killer had cut Brooke’s unborn child from her womb. “Let’s say he couldn’t kill an innocent baby,” he said instead, “then why take the baby with him? Why didn’t he just leave the baby with the body for us to find? Or if it wasn’t personal, then the killer could have just dropped the baby off at any hospital or church or anyplace safe. So far, we’ve had no calls on abandoned newborns. We’re running a paternity test. Hopefully, once we find out if either Logan is the baby’s father, we can prove that one of them is the killer. Brooke was going to tell all about their affairs and write a book about the family, airing who knows how many well-buried secrets. Killing her kept her quiet, and by taking the baby they thought they were getting rid of any links between them and Brooke.”

  “What if,” Jack looked thoughtful, “what if it wasn’t about the father protecting himself? What if it was about protecting the baby?”

  “Protecting it from the Everettes?” he asked.

  “Sure, why not?” Jack mused. “Someone hates the Everettes enough to kill them off one by one, but maybe they thought this baby could still be saved.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Mark agreed.

  “Okay,” Ryan mused slowly. He would run Jack’s theory by Paige in the morning, see what she thought. Right now though he really needed to take a break from thinking about the case for a little while. “So, how’s the McKinnley case going?” Ryan cleared his mind, sat back and listened as Jack detailed how he and his partner were closing in on a man who had abducted his ex-wife and her boyfriend and kept them locked in his basement for almost a month before killing them.

  * * * * *

  11:11 P.M.

  Lincoln had a feeling.

  It was going to be him tonight.

  He had considered going against his father’s wishes and accepting the police’s offer of protection. But when it came down to it he was more afraid of his father than he was of this killer.

  Which was pathetic.

  Especially for a thirty-eight-year-old man.

  Lying in his bed, in the room he had grown up in, he felt like he had so many times before. Like a pitiful, useless, weak, spineless little boy.

  Maybe death wouldn’t be so bad. After all, his life was a complete and utter mess.

  Lincoln was in debt. Deep in debt.

  Thankfully, he’d managed to keep this from his family. Living overseas helped. It meant his father wasn’t able to keep tabs on him as easily as he could on the rest of the family.

  He’d tried giving up gambling, but he was in too deep. He was addicted and nothing he’d tried could lessen the hold it had on him.

  His gambling debts weren’t the only thing Lincoln was ashamed of. He’d slept with Brooke Mariano, too. It was a mistake. He’d known it from the second he’d fallen into bed with her. He knew she was also sleeping with his brother and father, but he’d been drunk and depressed, and Brooke was beautiful, and as it turned out, she was also great in bed.

  That was over a year ago.

  As far as he knew no one had learned of his fling with Brooke. So there was no reason to suspect him as a possible father to her baby; and therefore, no reason to think of him as a potential suspect.

  It also meant no one suspected him as the one who had been feeding Brooke family secrets for her book in exchange for money once the book was published.

  Lincoln hated himself for what he was doing, and a little piece of him died each time he gave up another secret, but he was desperate. He needed to pay off his debts and he needed money to keep gambling. He didn’t have a choice.

  Just like with Sofia earlier.

  He rose up and began to pace the length of his room. He hadn't wanted to restrain his little sister while their father drugged her, but again, his fear of the judge overrode everything else.

  Lincoln actually liked Sofia; she was sweet, loving, caring, and kind. The only member of their family who had somehow managed to turn out nice. He shouldn’t have gone along with it. He should have allowed Sofia to talk with her detective friend—maybe they could have figured out what was going on and put a stop to it.

  Maybe they could have saved his life.

  Lincoln was scared that it was his father who was the killer.

  That was why the judge didn’t want them talking to the police. That was why he wanted them all staying on the estate where he could get to them. That was also why he didn’t want the police staying and offering protection.

  The judge had probably found out what Brooke was up to and that Lincoln was the one helping her do it. He had probably decided to destroy the family first before anyone else had a chance to do it. He had probably…

  Something cold pressed to his neck and Lincoln knew he had been right.

  It was his night to die.

  AUGUST 16th

  8:03 A.M.

  “Okay, people, let’s get started,” Belinda a
nnounced wearily. “So, what do we have from the latest crime scene?”

  Ryan stifled a yawn; he hadn't gotten a minute’s sleep last night. He’d just laid awake and replayed his conversation with Paige, wondering whether her insistence that Sofia was interested in him could possibly be true. Still, no matter whether anything could or would ever happen with her, it couldn’t be his priority right now, this case was number one. “Youngest son Lincoln was strangled.”

  “Strangled repeatedly,” Frankie inserted.

  All eyes turned to the ME. “How do you know that?” Belinda demanded.

  “Multiple ligature marks on his neck,” Frankie replied.

  “The killer wanted him to suffer,” Paige murmured. “Just like the others.”

  “He had to subdue him somehow first,” Ryan reminded them. “We found him tied to the bed. Maybe he caught Lincoln by surprise, used something to get him under control, a gun or a knife maybe . . .”

  “A knife,” Frankie interrupted again. “I found a small cut on his neck.”

  “Okay,” Ryan resumed. “So he uses a knife to get control of him, takes him back to the bed, secures him by tying his wrists and ankles so he can take his time, enjoy himself.”

  “Ties him to the bed,” Belinda pondered aloud. “There doesn’t seem to be a sexual component to any of this. There were no signs of sexual assault on Brooke, Samantha or Gloria, right, Frankie?”

  “Right,” Frankie affirmed.

  “It’s all about the suffering,” Paige said, and they all nodded their agreement.

  “The suffering of certain family members. Samantha was killed quickly,” Ryan reminded them.

  “But the others . . .” Paige shuddered. “That they suffered before they died was of great importance to the killer.”

  “Brooke had her baby cut out of her before she was strangled. Lewis was delivered a stab wound that was intended to make sure he bled out slowly. Samantha was killed quickly, mercifully, she wasn’t really an Everette so the killer wasn’t invested in her death. Gloria had both her legs broken before she was drowned. And Lincoln was strangled over and over. The killer probably choked him until he passed out, then waited till he came to before strangling him all over again. Any idea of how many times he was strangled, Frankie?” Ryan asked.