by Jane Blythe
“Alan Payne didn’t like Logan,” Ryan added. “Said he was cruel for cruel’s sake.”
“He was at the estate at the time of all the murders, and he was there the night Sofia was shot,” Paige continued.
“Motives for the family murders?”
“Maybe he wanted to take over the empire,” Ryan suggested, refusing to think about watching Sofia fall to the floor as a bullet plowed into her chest. “The family own a lot of real estate and a chain of hotels, plus a couple of finance companies. Maybe he got sick of sitting in second, thought he’d get rid of his father and siblings so he had no rivals. Or maybe he just hated them. There’s something chillingly cold about him, I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
“What about Sofia’s dreams?” Paige shot him an apologetically quizzical glance.
He was confused then, “What about them?”
“Don’t you think they could be relevant?”
“Why? She has nightmares about her father arguing with lots of women. That’s not related to her brother.”
“Actually,” Paige corrected gently. “She said she sleepwalked, and wasn’t sure if the things she saw were dreams or real. We assumed that the women were who her father was having affairs with. What if they were women Logan Junior was having affairs with? Everyone seems to agree he’s not very smart; what if it was their father cleaning up Logan’s messes that Sofia saw?”
“That’s a lot of what ifs,” Ryan said uncertainly. If Sofia really had seen something pertinent to what was happening now, then it put her at even greater risk. It also meant she would have to confront some things that she clearly had buried deeply. Ryan wasn’t sure she was up to it right now.
“I was also thinking,” Paige continued, “what if Logan Junior is really Isabella’s father? Sofia only said she saw Brooke giving birth and her father in the room. That doesn’t make the judge the father. If Brooke and Logan were Isabella’s parents and the judge covered it up because Brooke was so young at the time, and now the judge goes and gets Brooke pregnant, it could have pushed Logan Junior over the edge. Set all this in motion.”
“That’s all just conjecture,” Ryan protested.
“Agreed,” Paige nodded calmly. “But we need a direction to move in and this could be it.”
“Okay, lets investigate your conjecture,” Belinda said, dragging her hands across her face. “Set up an interview with Sofia, see if you can push her to remember what she saw.”
“That might be a problem,” Ryan cleared his throat. He continued when Belinda arched an irritable eyebrow in his direction. “Right now we aren’t really Sofia’s favorite people. I'm not sure she’ll want to talk with us. And if we’re pushing her to confront things she buried since she was a child, then she needs to trust us. At the moment she doesn’t.”
“Then you better make nice with her. Dismissed, people.” Belinda stood and headed for the door. “I want this case closed while there are still some members of the Everette family left alive. And don’t forget, once they’re all dead, this killer could disappear forever and we’ll never be able to find him.”
* * * * *
4:42 P.M.
“Honey, I don’t really understand why you’re making such a big deal about this.” Edmund was staring at her, his hazel eyes confused.
Shrugging fitfully, Sofia was feeling better after her nap but she was still too tired to concentrate. She was still tucked up in bed, right where she had been since Isabella had helped her there after her argument with Ryan. Sofia wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep but apparently Edmund had stayed with her, waiting until she awakened to grill her once again about Ryan. Resting her aching head against the pillows, Sofia pulled her quilt tighter around herself. Despite the warm weather, she was chilly.
“What’s going on with you?” Edmund sat on the edge of her bed and hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her head so she was looking at him.
“I don’t know.” She closed her eyes so she didn’t have to look at her friend’s face, she hated lying to him, but she was too tired to properly sort out what she was feeling right now.
“I think you do know,” Edmund persisted. “Talk to me, Sofia. I just want to help you. We both do,” he added, including Isabella.
“You can trust us,” Isabella added. “We both love and care about you.”
“Given how you feel about your father, you can't be this upset over that,” Edmund continued.
“They arrested him,” Sofia reminded him, her eyes still firmly closed.
“I know, honey, but you yourself were scared that he could be the killer, so you can't be that upset, or surprised, that he was arrested,” he reminded her.
“He’s still my father,” she retorted.
“Fair enough, but...”
“But nothing,” she cut him off. “Aren’t I allowed to be upset that my father was arrested for murder?”
“Of course you are,” Edmund soothed. “I just don’t think it’s the reason you're so angry with Ryan.”
“He lied to me.” Tears were stinging the backs of her eyes but Sofia was fighting them.
“Okay,” Edmund sounded pleased that they were making progress, “what did he lie about?”
“He promised that he’d be there with me, that he’d keep me safe,” her voice began to tremble, she wouldn’t be able to hold her tears in for much longer. “But he was gone. When I woke up, he was gone. He left me alone so he could arrest my father.”
“Open your eyes,” Edmund instructed softly. “Please,” he added when she didn’t.
Slowly opening her eyes, she expected to see a sharp reprimand in her best friend’s eyes, but instead they were watching her sadly.
“He hurt you,” Edmund murmured, brushing a hand across her forehead and tucking her wild red hair behind her ear. “I'm sorry. I hate it when you get hurt. But you know that Ryan was just doing his job.”
“But I needed him, Edmund, and he wasn’t there, even though he promised he would be.” Sofia hated how vulnerable she sounded. “How can I trust him after that?” her bottom lip wobbled and she chewed on it, stubbornly holding back her tears.
“I think you can trust him, Sofia,” Isabella announced quietly, in her serious way. “I like him.”
Turning to her little sister, “But I need someone who I can count on indefinitely. What if I need him again and he’s not there?” she whimpered.
“Honey, you know that no one can always be there,” Edmund reminded her. “You also know that Ryan would do his best to give you whatever you need.”
“I guess,” she nodded reluctantly.
Narrowing his eyes at her. “You’re afraid,” Edmund pronounced.
Nodding again, slowly this time.
“Of what, honey?”
Staring at her hands in her lap, twisting them together until Edmund gently pulled them apart, keeping a grip on them when they started to stray toward each other again.
“What are you scared of, Sofia?” he repeated gently.
She finally lifted her eyes to meet Edmund’s. “That I really like him. That it might actually go somewhere.”
“Why are you scared of that?” he asked, confused. “For as long as I can remember you’ve been longing to have a family of your own. You’ve always been looking for your Mr. Right, and now that you think you may have found him, you’re backing off? Why?”
A couple of tears escaped and slid down her cheeks, where she angrily brushed them away. “Because it doesn’t change anything.”
“What do you mean?” Both Edmund and Isabella still looked puzzled.
“I'm still dying,” she whispered.
“Oh, honey. You don’t know that,” Edmund said sadly.
“Well, I'm not getting any better,” she reminded him. “And it’s been months now.”
“That does not mean that you are dying,” Edmund reprimanded sharply.
“What if I let things happen with Ryan and then I get worse? That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Isn't that up to Ryan to decide? You don’t like people making decisions for you, he probably doesn’t either,” Edmund pointed out.
“I asked him,” her voice was still wobbling. “If he could deal with it. I said if he couldn’t handle getting involved with me and then me dying, then he should just walk away now.”
“And what did he say?” Edmund prodded when she paused.
“He said he believed that I was going to get better,” remembering how his confidence had ignited her own.
“You liked that,” Edmund smiled. “He made you feel safe.”
Hesitantly, she nodded. “I lied to him, too.”
“How did you lie?” Edmund pushed.
“I told him that I believed that he was going to find this killer, but . . .” she trailed off, a sob about to break free.
“But now you’re not so sure,” Edmund finished for her, fear flashed across his face and Sofia knew he was scared too that the police wouldn’t be able to catch the killer before her whole family was dead.
“I want to believe him,” she was crying now. “I believed him when I said it, but now, now I don’t know. Now I'm scared that it’s already too late.”
“It’s not too late, Sofia,” Isabella assured her firmly.
Weeping uncontrollably now, she clung to Edmund as he put his arms around her. “Why can't I stop crying?” she mumbled against his shoulder.
“Because you’re in the middle of a nightmare,” he reminded her, tightening his hold.
“I don’t want to cry anymore, I don’t want to be scared anymore, I don’t want to be sick anymore,” she sobbed.
“Shh,” Edmund rubbed her back soothingly. “I'm pretty concerned about you right now, so I'm going to give you some sleeping pills, all right? You need a full night’s sleep, and you should be safe enough here with your security detail and your father’s security guards. If you’re not doing any better by tomorrow, then I'm going to take you to the hospital.”
Too worn out to protest, Sofia took the sleeping pills Isabella gave her and swallowed them, then allowed Edmund to settle her down in the bed. “Stay with me, please,” she begged, not wanting to fall asleep on her own.
“Of course,” Edmund took her hand with one of his, and with his other began to stroke her hair.
Sofia hoped that she hadn't been lying. That her confidence in Ryan had been well placed. All that was left now was her, Isabella, Logan and their father. And another night was ticking ever closer.
* * * * *
10:52 P.M.
Isabella hated what this was doing to her sister.
Perched on the bed beside Sofia, who was still fast asleep, she was stroking her sister’s thick red hair and wondering whether she’d taken things too far.
Not with her murderous plan.
That was exactly what her horrible family deserved. They were always pretending to be so perfect. So righteous. People to be looked up to and admired. But Isabella knew the truth. About all of them. They were monsters. Cruel and vicious monsters, without a conscience between them. Even those who had not participated had perpetuated the crimes by keeping their mouths shut. Which meant all of them deserved their just punishment. Death.
Except Sofia.
Isabella was glad she wasn’t going to kill her sister. But she was worried that she might end up causing Sofia’s death unintentionally. She was concerned that she’d gone too far with the mushrooms. She’d just needed to get her big sister out of the way for a little while. Sofia was the only member of their family who ever paid any attention to her, so when Isabella was planning all of this, she had to make sure that Sofia wouldn’t find out. She hadn't really wanted to hurt her sister, just incapacitate her for a while, so poisoning had seemed like the perfect answer. With Sofia constantly sick she hadn't had the time or energy to pay much attention to what Isabella was up to.
She had done her research, chosen a mushroom that wasn’t supposed to be lethal. However, now she was concerned that she’d got it wrong. Or maybe she was just giving Sofia too much. She had picked the Tricholoma pardinum because the gastrointestinal symptoms of nausea, dizziness and vomiting seemed a good way to keep Sofia occupied without making her too seriously ill. The fact that the vomiting left her dehydrated and wary of eating, helped to keep her weak and drained and barely able to leave her house, which meant Isabella was free to plan her killing spree.
It hadn't been hard to get Sofia to eat the mushrooms. They both smelled and tasted nice, and Isabella always prepared them in a vegetable soup. They also took only a short time for their toxins to start affecting the body of the person who ate them. Symptoms could appear in as little as fifteen minutes after ingestion, which was helpful if Isabella needed to distract Sofia quickly. It also took four to six days to completely recover, which meant Sofia was out of commission even if Isabella couldn’t get to her every day.
Now, however, Sofia appeared to be falling apart. Months of poisoning, of vomiting and dizziness and overwhelming tiredness, had taken their toll. Isabella would have to be careful not to feed her too many more mushrooms. Still, that shouldn’t be a problem; she had almost finished what she’d started.
Upset as she was about her sister, she couldn’t be more pleased with how things had turned out with Logan IV.
It had been a risk.
A calculated one.
But in the end, it had paid off perfectly.
Isabella hadn't wanted Logan dead. Yet. So she had watched the security guards her father had hired, learned their routine, and then timed her kill to the second. Leaving just enough time to kill off Simone but leave Logan clinging to life for the guard to find.
Killing Simone and Samantha just had to be done. And, Isabella comforted herself, they could have opened their mouths at any time. Told what was going on in this house. Done something to stop it. But they hadn't. And now their silence meant that they were complicit, and so they too had to die.
Having Logan weakened would also be beneficial for later. Although she was tall, and solidly built, and she spent hours working out, Logan was still bigger and stronger than her. So anything she could do to give herself the advantage was definitely worth taking the time to do. And having Logan weakened with carbon monoxide would certainly give her the advantage when the time came.
Speaking of advantages, Isabella had another idea.
So far, the police had not suspected her. They had no reason to. But there weren’t many of them left now. They knew Sofia wasn’t the killer. And the judge had now been cleared. That only left Logan IV and herself. Since Logan had disappeared from the hospital, he had become their number one suspect, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t move on to her.
Unless she made herself a victim.
She was a little limited in what she could do to herself. A stab wound or gunshot were too serious; she wouldn’t be able to recover fast enough to finish her plan. A drowning would be too hard because it was so up close and personal, which had made Gloria’s kill so much fun. A drug overdose was too risky; again, it could knock her out for too long.
Maybe she could go with suffocation.
Perhaps tie a plastic bag around her head.
That should work. She’d tie the bag around her head and then use some rope to secure her hands behind her back. She knew the guard’s routine, so she’d place herself somewhere where they would be sure to find her.
She was getting excited. This would be fun. And there wasn’t a lot that excited Isabella Everette. In fact, she could think of only one thing. Murder.
In her sleep, Sofia began to whimper. Her sister’s brow creased in concern, and Isabella wished she could take all Sofia’s worry and pain away. Gently smoothing her sister’s forehead, soon this would all be over and then finally they could both be happy. Once their horrible family was disposed of, they could move forward. Sofia would be free to patch things up with Ryan and make a life with him. And she would be free to live and do as she pleased.
Brushing a kiss t
o Sofia’s cheek, Isabella quietly crept from the room. She’d have to hurry. The guards swept the kitchen at half past eleven. If she was quick, she could get herself set up there, ready to be found.
Maybe she should leave the door out to the gardens open. Then the police would think that her attacker had simply fled when they heard the guards approaching. Which would explain why she survived.
Heading straight for the kitchen, Isabella quickly located some rope and a bag, then took a moment to choose the most appropriate spot in the large kitchen. A ten seater table was down one end, behind which French doors opened out onto the garden. The other three walls were covered in benches and cupboards; a large island took up most of the middle of the room.
It was late. In her statement to the police, she would tell them that she had been unable to sleep and come downstairs for a bottle of water and a snack when she had been grabbed from behind. So near the refrigerator was the ideal place.
Collecting a plate on her way, she opened one of the doors, then took a bottle of water from the fridge, and a peach—her favorite fruit. Dropping all three on the floor, Isabella lay down beside them. Putting the bag over her head, she used a piece of the rope to tie it tightly around her neck. Then taking slow, deep breaths, so as not to use up her small air supply until she was done, she put her arms behind her back and struggled to tie her wrists together.
When they were well enough secured, she settled back and waited.
Wondering as she did whether Logan was correct and she was insane.
* * * * *
11:28 P.M.
Sofia hated the basement.
Why was she down here anyway?
Shouldn’t she be in bed? Her nanny had tucked her in earlier.
She must have been sleepwalking again.
Why did she always end up down in the basement whenever she sleepwalked?
She hated it down here.
