by Jane Blythe
“This time you aren’t going down alone,” he reminded her.
Taking a deep breath, she tentatively reached out a foot and placed it on the first step. Seeing how hard this was for her, Ryan wanted to lift her into his arms and carry her down, but he knew this was important. Sofia needed to feel like she was in control if she was going to let them pry her dream out of her.
Ever so slowly, she brought her other foot down to join the first. And that was step number one conquered.
“You're doing great,” he assured her.
Grateful, she smiled at him, and with him on one side of her and Paige on the other, she haltingly made her way down to the bottom. Letting out a relieved breath, Sofia sunk down to the floor, tucking her knees up to her chest, and for a moment they let her be, allowing her to gather herself.
“It’s big down here,” Paige commented, circling around the large space.
“Not much stored here,” he added, one eye on Sofia as he scanned the basement. The huge room was virtually empty, a few boxes of Christmas decorations sat in the far corner, some skis and snowboards in the adjacent one, and that was it.
“I wonder what went on down here,” Paige pondered. “It’s so dark and dismal, I can't see anyone wanting to come down here. And there are so many rooms in this house, so it’s not like this is the only place to have any privacy.”
“Your answers are sitting over there,” he inclined his head at Sofia.
“You’re right, and she’s had enough time to adjust to being down here again,” Paige pronounced. Crouching at Sofia’s side, Paige took the other woman’s face and tilted it up. “Okay, Sofia, you said in your dreams that they always started down here, what's the first thing you remember?”
Glancing at him for support, Ryan knelt beside her and took her hand. “I'm here.”
“I'd always wonder why I was here,” Sofia began, her eyes had taken on a vacant, distant glint.
“No going into a trance on me, Sofia,” Paige warned. “What next?”
Sofia’s eyes cleared a little, “I'd think about how much I hated it down here. I was afraid of the dark, and it was always dark down here. Except for the other room.”
Exchanging glances with Paige, there didn’t appear to be another room down here. “What other room?” Ryan asked her.
“I'd walk toward it,” Sofia continued as though he hadn't spoken. “On tippy-toes. I didn’t want anyone to hear me.”
“Cupcake, what other room?” he pressed.
“There were voices arguing,” she continued, lost in her recollections. “Two people. I'd stop at the door to look in. Their arms were waving about as they argued. I could never understand what they were saying, though.”
“Sofia,” Ryan made his voice softly commanding and tapped lightly at her cheeks. “What other room?”
“It was the room where bad things happened,” she whispered in a little girl voice.
He let that go for the moment, she wasn’t quite ready to confront what she’d seen happen in the room. “What happened next in your dreams?” he asked instead.
“My father would grab my shoulder. I'd jump, scared. Then he’d tell me that I was just dreaming,” she finished flatly.
Ryan glanced at Paige to see if she’d picked up on the same thing he had. “Your father was behind you?” he confirmed.
Sofia nodded glumly.
“And you didn’t see anyone come past you out of the room?” Paige inquired.
She shook her head, not yet catching on to the significance of that.
“If your father came from behind you, and he didn’t leave the room while you were there, then it couldn’t have been him who was arguing with someone,” Paige summarized.
Shocked, “Then who...who was in the room?” Sofia stammered. “Logan?”
“That would be my guess,” Ryan agreed, glancing at his partner, who nodded that she had come to the same conclusion.
“Can I go home now?” Sofia asked so pitifully it had tears stinging the back of his eyes.
“Not yet, honey,” he stroked her hair. “What happens next in your dream?”
“My father picks me up, but I look over his shoulder...”
“What do you see, Sofia?” Paige asked gently.
Her dazed look returns, “I see red.”
“What does that mean, Sofia?” Paige pressed, taking one of Sofia’s hands and squeezing, trying to get her to focus.
“It’s so red,” was all Sofia could mumble.
Understanding dawned on Ryan, “Is the red blood, cupcake?”
She bobbed her head up and down.
“Do you know whose blood it is?” Paige continued. If Ryan hadn't known better, he would think his partner was cold and uncaring, the way she kept pushing Sofia relentlessly. But they’d worked together for years now, and they were good friends, Ryan knew Paige wasn’t enjoying this, just doing it because it had to be done.
“No,” Sofia replied, sounding impossibly childlike.
However, they both caught something in her voice. “Did you ever go down there during the day?” Ryan asked.
“Even in the daytime it was dark down there,” she whispered as an answer. “I don’t like the dark.”
“Come on, Sofia,” Paige shook her. “I need you to focus just a little while longer.”
“You're doing great,” Ryan encouraged. “Did you ever come down here during the day, when you were sure you were awake?” he asked again. “You said that you could never make yourself walk down the stairs when you weren’t dreaming, so if you tried to come down, did you ever make it?”
“I wasn’t allowed down here,” she replied.
“Sofia, that’s not an answer,” he pushed carefully, extremely aware that if they pushed too hard then they could end up pushing her right over the edge. “Did you come down here one day?”
Scared silver eyes that seemed too big for her thin, pale face, looked back at him. “I came down one time,” she admitted.
“Was anyone down here?” Paige’s eyes lighted. Sofia was slowly leading them in a roundabout way to what had really gone on down here.
“I was home sick from school,” she squeezed her eyes closed as she spoke. “The nanny was off during the day. I was supposed to be in bed,” she was speaking quickly now, breathless. “But I was hungry. I went down to the kitchen. The door to the basement was open. I stopped. I didn’t want to go down, but my feet started walking down the stairs anyway. The light was on. In the room. Just like it was in my dreams . . .”
Taking her shoulders, Ryan shook her, “Breathe, cupcake, you have to keep breathing.”
Drawing in a shaky breath, “I...I...walked toward the light. There was a bed. On it was a girl. She looked only a little older than me. She...she was tied up.”
Sofia was looking so distressed, it was taking every ounce of Ryan’s strength to keep from picking her up and spiriting her out of this house forever. Still, he knew she needed to tell. Not just so they could find the killer, but for her own sake. Whatever she had seen clearly still haunted her to this day. “Was someone in there with the girl, Sofia?” he asked quietly.
Jerking a nod. “He’s on top of her. She’s screaming, trying to get away, but she can't because of the ropes. He’s laughing. Telling her he likes it when she struggles. He’s ... he’s raping her ...” Tears seeped out the corners of her eyes, which were still squeezed tightly shut.
Brushing the tears away. “Can you see his face? Can you see who’s raping the girl?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she cried. “I don’t know.”
“Sofia,” fighting to keep his voice calm when what he wanted to do was scream that Sofia had been drawn into all of this, “open your eyes for me.” Her eyelids obediently fluttered open. “Try to concentrate on the man’s face.”
“I'm so tired,” she groaned quietly, pressing a hand to her head.
“You have a headache,” Ryan murmured, taking her face in his hands and massaging her temples with his
thumbs. She moaned softly, and after a minute, he could feel her start to relax. As much as he wanted to know who in her family had been raping women in this house, he was concerned enough about Sofia’s emotional well-being to take things slowly. “Okay, cupcake, now look at me.” Her pupils shifted, but her eyes looked straight through him. “At me, Sofia,” he repeated, increasing the pressure on her temples. Her eyes moved again, seeing him now. “All right, now think.”
Concentrating, “It’s...it’s Logan,” she answered miserably. “Oh my gosh,” her voice grew panicked. “I thought it was my father arguing with women, but it wasn’t. It was Logan and his victims. Begging him for their lives. All these years I thought it was arguing, but it was murder. I saw him killing them. My father must have known. He was there. He knew what Logan was doing. He probably helped him cover it up. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.” Sofia scrunched her eyes closed once more and began to rock herself backwards and forwards.
Fighting tears of his own, a glance at Paige confirmed she too had tears standing in her brown eyes. What a horrible thing for a child to have witnessed. No wonder Sofia had blocked it out. And to know that her father was involved. Even if it was only helping Logan cover it up, it still made him complicit in the crimes. Ryan had known as soon as she’d said her father was down there that he was involved somehow, but it had taken Sofia’s frazzled mind longer to come to the same conclusion. “Come here, baby,” he took her in his arms. “I'm so sorry you had to see that. I wish I could take that out of your mind, make it like it never happened.”
She burrowed against him, clutching tightly, frantically, at him, but then she suddenly pushed away, frenetic. “There were sticks on the ground.”
“What?” Paige asked, puzzled.
“I thought they were sticks but they weren’t, they were grave markers. He buried them down here.” She began to hyperventilate, “I can't breathe, Ryan. I can't breathe.”
“Shh,” he soothed. “Yes, you can. Open your eyes, honey,” he waited until they struggled open. “There you go, good girl, just rest your head here,” he pressed it down against his shoulder, cradling it with one hand. With his other he rubbed comforting circles on her back to help calm her. “I want you to breathe slowly with me, in and out, we’ll do it together.” After a couple of minutes, Sofia grew quiet, snuggled against his chest, and he wondered if her exhausted mind had given out and she had drifted off to sleep.
“Sweetie, I hate to do this to you,” Paige looked truly distressed. “But we need to know where the room is. Can you show us?”
Wearily, Sofia lifted her head, “I want to go home now,” she pleaded.
“I know you do, sweetie,” Paige patted her shoulder. “And this is the last thing I need from you. Can you show us where the room is?”
“Yes,” Sofia leaned heavily against him as he wrapped an arm around her waist and practically lifted her to her feet. “This way.” She led them to the wall farthest from the stairs, but she didn’t look to the wall; instead, her gaze dropped to the floor. “Down there.”
“Down here?” Paige repeated.
“There’s a trapdoor and a tunnel,” Sofia looked completely drained, barely able to remain upright.
Concerned she’d drop to the floor when he released his grip on her to search for the trapdoor Ryan asked, “Sofia, do you want to sit?”
“I’ll be okay,” she murmured, but her eyes had gone vacant again. She had just about reached her limit of what she could handle.
Tentatively, he removed his arm from around her waist, ready to catch her if she fell, but somehow she managed to stay standing. Joining Paige, they quickly located the trapdoor. Pulling it open, Ryan noted that the hinges didn’t creak. Someone had been taking good care of it, so it had most likely been used recently. About to drop down into the tunnel below, he cast a worried glance Sofia’s way. He didn’t think she was up to seeing this room again, but he wasn’t sure that Paige wouldn’t want to ask her more questions.
“Leave her there,” Paige nodded understandingly. “If we have more questions we can ask them later; I think she’s done enough for now.”
Grateful, he joined his partner in the tunnel. It was narrow, but not so narrow that they weren’t able to walk side by side. It wasn’t too long either, only about ten feet, then there were three steps and they were in another large room. Just as Sofia had stated, there was a large bed on one side, and at least thirty grave markers taking up most of the room. Around the bed, the floor was stained a dark red. Blood. They both began to pace the room, searching for anything useful.
A sharp gasp had them both spinning around.
Sofia stood at the top of the steps. A trembling hand held over her mouth.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, dismayed.
“I was scared on my own,” she whispered, her eyes riveted to the graves. “Ryan, what if...what if...my biological mother was one of Logan’s victims? What if she’s buried here?”
“There’s no reason to think that, cupcake,” he assured her.
Swaying unsteadily, “Ryan, I think I'm going to pass out,” she murmured.
Springing toward her, he hoped to catch her before she collapsed, but he was too far away. Her knees hit the concrete floor with a horrible thud, but he managed to reach her in time to get a hand under her head before it cracked into the floor. A concussion was the last thing she needed right now. Sofia was shaking, still clinging to consciousness, although barely. Shrugging out of his jacket, he wrapped her up in it, then scooped her into his arms. “I'm going to take her out of here,” he informed Paige. “She’s totally exhausted, physically and mentally.”
“I'm sorry, Ryan,” Paige said quietly. “I didn’t enjoy any of that. I didn’t mean to push her so hard that she fainted. I didn’t want to upset her; I was just doing what I had to so we can save her life.”
“I know, Paige,” he assured his partner. “You got out of her what I wouldn’t have been able to. The only way she was giving that up was if we pried it out of her.”
Leaving Paige to search the basement, he carried Sofia back through the tunnel and out into the other side, then up the steps, calling for CSU as he went.
Stephanie met him at the top of the stairs, her hazel eyes going immediately to Sofia. “Is she okay?”
“No,” Ryan answered, “she’s not. She just relived the worst thing she’s ever seen.”
“Poor baby,” Stephanie clucked sympathetically. “And how are you?” she eyed him shrewdly.
“Worn out,” he replied. He hadn't slept last night, even before he’d gotten the call about Sofia. He’d been lying in bed, awake, trying to figure out a way to get things back on track with her. Then at the hospital he’d sat beside her bed, holding her hand, and watched her sleep. “This killer is relentless. Another victim every night. He doesn’t leave us time to catch up, let alone get ahead of him.”
“But he’s failed three times now,” Stephanie reminded him. “Or two, I guess, if the killer is Logan. You’ll get him.”
In his arms, Sofia stirred. “I don’t want to go in the basement again,” she mumbled tiredly.
“You don’t have to, cupcake,” he assured her. “Just rest now.”
“What can I do for her?” Stephanie asked, gently stroking Sofia’s hair.
“You can get your team to go over every inch of that basement with a fine-tooth comb and find me something to nail Logan Everette IV to the wall.”
* * * * *
4:21 P.M.
This could be disastrous.
It could ruin everything.
Isabella was watching the hubbub from a shadowy corner. So far no one had noticed her, which was lucky considering the number of people swarming throughout the house.
At the moment most of the attention seemed to be on Sofia. Her sister was lying on a settee, covered in blankets, in the middle of the library. She appeared to be asleep but every so often Ryan would go to her, perch on the sofa beside her, and ask her questions. Isabella c
ouldn’t hear what they were saying, but she’d seen the door to the basement open earlier so she had a pretty good idea.
Sofia was well protected. Two officers were standing nearby, Ryan and his partner came to check on her what seemed like every few minutes, and there were crime scene techs everywhere. They needn’t have worried, though. Isabella was not a threat to her sister’s safety.
As she continued to watch unseen, Ryan returned to the room, crouched beside the sofa and gently ran a hand through Sofia’s hair. At his touch, her sister’s large silver eyes fluttered open to gaze adoringly up at him, and she pulled a hand out from under the blankets to take his and hold it to her cheek. Whatever Ryan said to her was obviously upsetting because Sofia began to cry, and Ryan took her in his arms and held her.
Tears stung the backs of Isabella’s eyes as she watched how tender Ryan was with Sofia. She wished that one day she could find someone who would look at her the way Ryan did at Sofia.
She was glad that she wasn’t going to kill her sister.
There was no reason to. Despite the fact that Sofia knew more about what Logan had done than most of the rest of the family, Sofia hadn't known that she knew. Had probably blocked it out. She’d only been a child when she’d stumbled upon the horrors going on in the family basement, so it was completely understandable that she would bury the memories away, convince herself they were just dreams.
Besides, now that Sofia had unlocked those memories, she had told the police. She was doing what she could to put a stop to Logan’s crimes, despite the obvious toll it was taking on her.
Unlike the others.
The judge and Gloria had known what Logan was doing, so had Simone. Lewis and Lincoln had known, too, although maybe not all the details. And yet not a single one of them had lifted a finger to stop him. They had let innocent young girls be tortured and murdered under their roof and ignored it. Isabella couldn’t comprehend how they could do that. In keeping their mouths shut, they were complicit in the crimes and just as guilty as Logan.
