Three (Count to Ten Book 3)

by Jane Blythe

  The fact that Sofia had felt so scared and vulnerable that she had felt the need to arm herself left him feeling icy cold with fear. This guy just wasn’t letting up. After a year or so of no contact, he was clearly ready not just to engage Sofia again, but also to take things up a level.

  And that terrified him.

  Just what was this guy’s end game?

  Did he want Sofia for himself? Did he want her dead? Would he turn out to be a threat to the people around Sofia if he thought they were getting in between them?

  Unfortunately, once again, Stephanie had come up empty when she had come to check out the house last night. This guy was good. He never left a single print or fiber or hair or any piece of himself behind.

  Ryan had only been about ten minutes away from their house when Sofia had called him but it had seemed like hours. The terror in her voice, and then when she had hung up on him after whispering that he was back, had left him feeling more helpless than he ever had in his life. Not knowing what had happened to her, whether she was dead, alive, or injured, while he was powerless to help her, was not an experience he wished to repeat.

  Seemingly reading his mind, Paige asked, “So what are you going to do to stop this guy from getting back into your house?”

  “I have a security firm coming out tomorrow to install the best security system they have. And I don’t want her alone in the house after dark. If I'm held up and not home in time, then Edmund’s going to go and pick her up and take her to his place. Sofia’s also interested in a protection dog. And she’s itching to get better so you and Rose can start training her in self-defense.”

  “And she didn’t recognize him at all?”

  “She said she didn’t really get a good look at him,” Ryan replied. “He spoke to her, but she said the voice wasn’t familiar. He also told her he loves her and that she's the center of his world.”

  She winced. “He sounds totally obsessed.”

  “Have you had any more text messages?” With Sofia’s stalker upping the ante, he was hoping Paige’s wasn’t going to as well.

  “No. And don’t go getting distracted by that; let’s focus on Isabella, and Sofia’s stalker,” she said firmly.

  Yeah, right, he wanted to say, as if that was happening. Ryan had already asked Jack and Rose to investigate whoever was sending Paige texts.

  “You're not going to let it go, are you?” Paige asked.

  “Did you really expect me to?” he asked as he pulled into an empty space in the hospital’s parking lot.

  “No, I guess not. You’ve got Rose and Jack working on it, don’t you?”

  He smiled at her; he and Paige knew each other so well he couldn’t imagine having anyone else as his partner. “Yep.”

  She rubbed her tired eyes. “They have better things to be working on,” she grumbled.

  He eyed her carefully as they headed for the hospital’s front door. “Tired?”

  “Yes, and yes,” she answered his unasked question. “I did have nightmares, but it’s no big deal. I'm used to them.”

  Before he could ask her anything else, she had walked ahead of him to the main reception desk. Hurrying to catch up, he pulled out a picture of Isabella. “Hi,” he announced to the woman at the desk, “I'm Detective Xander, and this is my partner, Detective Hood. We wanted to find out if this woman works here at the hospital,” he explained, and he passed her the photo.

  The woman studied it for a moment. “She looks a little familiar, but I'm not sure.”

  Xander exchanged hopeful glances with Paige. “She’s tall; she wouldn’t have been working here for more than five months.”

  The woman nodded along as he spoke. “You're right. She started here about four months ago; she works in the geriatric ward. I think her name is Isobel.” She glanced around conspiratorially. “I remember her because she never talks to anyone. She's a little odd, and there’s lots of gossip going around the hospital about her. But she does her work well, she’s polite to the patients, she’s always on time, and she's efficient. She’s only called in sick once since she started here, and that was because her baby was ill.”

  So, Isabella still had Brooke’s baby. “Is she working today?”

  “I'm not sure, sorry; I can call and check, if you like.” The woman picked up the phone in front of her and dialed a number. A few quick questions later she hung up. “No, today’s her day off. She won't be back until tomorrow.”

  “We’re going to need her address,” Paige informed the woman.

  The woman’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “Is she wanted for something?”

  “We need to talk with her; she may have information on a case we’re working,” Ryan answered vaguely. A moment later, he was holding a sheet of paper with the name Isobel Evans and an address on it. He was anxious to drive out to the house and pick Isabella up, but there was one other thing he needed to know first. “Have you had any thefts here recently? Any medical supplies and drugs gone missing, specifically sodium thiopental?”

  “Actually we have. How did you know that?” Realization dawning, the woman asked, “Is that why you want Isobel? Did she steal drugs from here?”

  “Thanks, ma’am, you’ve been extremely helpful,” Ryan told her instead.

  He was buzzing with excitement by the time they got back into the car, driving toward Isabella’s house where they would hopefully end this once and for all. “Are you and Elias okay?” he asked Paige as he drove off.

  Paige just shrugged.

  “Look, what he did was wrong; but you know he loves you and he was just doing what he thought was best for you.”

  She just shrugged again.

  “Come on, Paige. You two love each other, don’t let one stupid mistake ruin that.”

  For a moment, she was quiet. “It’s not that he gave me the sleeping pills, it’s that he thinks I'm going to lose it like I did when I was a kid. I don’t know that I want to be married to someone who thinks I'm weak and an emotional wreck.”

  “You know he doesn’t think that,” Ryan gently rebuked her. “Sometimes I worry about Sofia having a breakdown,” he admitted.

  “But she’s so strong,” Paige protested.

  “I know, but she’s been through a lot and I worry about her. I love her,” he added. “Same way Elias loves you. We worry about the people we love; sometimes it makes us a little crazy. I know you're hurt, but try to give him a break.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Paige told him, but he could hear in her voice that she was letting herself let it go.

  “We’re here,” he announced. Both of them set aside their personal issues and readied themselves. Ryan didn’t think that Isabella would try anything, especially given the fact that he was dating her sister, but they still needed to be careful.

  They approached the small house cautiously. It had a neatly mowed front lawn and two leafless trees in the yard. The house was single story and painted a fresh white. There was no car in the drive and no lights on inside.

  Rapping on the front door, Ryan thought it was best not to identify himself until Isabella opened the door. No one answered his knock. He rapped again. After waiting a full minute, there was still no response.

  “She’s not here,” he admitted at last.

  “Excuse me,” a voice came from the sidewalk. “Are you looking for Isobel?”

  His head snapped toward the elderly woman staring at them inquisitively. “Do you know Isobel Evans?” he asked, as he and Paige walked toward her.

  “She used to live there, but she moved last week,” the lady told them.

  His heart dropped; they had been so close to arresting her. Now they’d have to hope that no one from the hospital tipped her off and she turned up for her shift tomorrow. “Okay, thanks.” He started for the car.

  “I have her new address,” the lady called after him.

  He froze. “You do?”

  “I used to babysit Sophie. Isobel gave me her new address so I can still watch her sometimes. Sh
e’s a cutie and such a good baby, I couldn’t bear not to be able to see her again,” the old woman gushed.

  Sophie must be Brooke’s baby. At least Isabella seemed to be taking good care of the child, who was both her half-sister on her mother’s side, and aunt on her father’s side. And it seemed she had named the baby after Sofia. If Isabella had only moved to her new address last week, then she was most likely still there. “We’re going to need that address.”

  * * * * *

  5:28 P.M.

  Xavier was desperate.

  The address the hotel had for Ricky Preston had turned out to be an abandoned warehouse. Clearly, Ricky was not living there.

  The day hadn't been a complete loss, though.

  A call had come through about a house where drugs and medications stolen from a hospital were reportedly being sold. Given that sodium thiopental was among them, Xavier was going to check it out. Perhaps he’d get lucky again and Ricky Preston had been a customer.

  Or if he was really lucky, maybe it was Ricky who had stolen the drugs and this was where he was living. If he was dealing stolen drugs, that would certainly be a reason to give his employer a fake address; plus the fake address gave Ricky the additional benefit of covering his tracks in the event the police were ever on to him.

  After Xavier checked this out, he was going to head home.

  Annabelle had been steadfastly refusing to answer his calls and texts all day. Presumably, she was unhappy with him for sending Kate to babysit her. Right now, though, Xavier couldn’t care less if Annabelle was angry with him. She’d scared the life out of him with her admission that she was contemplating suicide; there was no way he was leaving her alone any time soon—not until he was convinced that all thoughts of taking her own life were gone for good.

  Annabelle may have been uncooperative about returning his calls, but thankfully Kate had not. He’d already texted her a couple of dozen times, plus called her at least five. So, he knew that Annabelle was doing okay. While she hadn't been overly enthusiastic about Kate’s presence, she had allowed Kate to keep her company without complaint. Most importantly, though, Xavier knew she was safe. And that was all that mattered.

  Pulling into a street, he checked the address he had jotted down on a scrap of paper to confirm he had the right place and then stopped in front of a house. The house looked completely innocuous. It was brick, two stories, a neat and well-maintained yard that Xavier guessed would be full of flowers in the spring. It was not the kind of house where one would expect to purchase stolen drugs.

  There was a white van parked in the drive, and a blue sedan on the curb out front. As he passed the car, he saw a baby seat in the back. That wasn’t good. Hopefully, there wasn’t going to be a child inside. Although, potentially, that could make whoever was in there less likely to try anything stupid.

  Xavier was feeling like it was less and less likely he was going to find Ricky Preston here. Ricky had no children, and he couldn’t see the guy settling down with a woman who had a child while he was on the run from the police.

  Maybe the car belonged to one of the other houses on the street. He glanced up and down the road. That seemed unlikely. There were no other cars, bar his own, that were parked out on the street instead of in driveways, so there would be no reason for the car’s owner to park in front of someone else’s house instead of their own, or the home of whomever they were visiting.

  Maybe this wasn’t even the right house.

  It certainly didn’t look like a drug house.

  And he’d been to plenty.

  He checked out the house as he approached. The blinds were drawn, but he could see light emanating from around the edges. Someone was obviously at home.

  After rapping on the door, Xavier thought he heard movements and muffled voices from inside but couldn’t be sure.

  He knocked again. “Police, open up, please.”

  At his announcement, the house went suddenly dark.

  A feeling of foreboding began in his gut. “Police, open up.”

  The house had gone deadly silent.

  Trying the doorknob, it turned, and he pushed the door open, pulled out his gun and stepped inside.

  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the near complete darkness in the house. Outside it had been dark, but there had been the streetlights, car headlights, and a porch light above the door.

  Once Xavier could see enough to make out shadows he found himself in a large living room. Couches, lamps, an entertainment cabinet with a large screen TV, a couple of small tables, but Xavier couldn’t see any people.

  “My name is Detective Montague; come out with your hands up,” Xavier yelled into the empty room.

  Somewhere in the house, someone chuckled.

  Confused, his bad feeling was growing. “You need to identify yourself. I need to ask you some questions.”

  When there was no response, he moved cautiously forward, checking out the room to confirm it was empty. Xavier was halfway toward the nearest door when he heard the chuckle again. Before he could give another order for the house’s inhabitants to come out, a familiar voice spoke.

  “Detective Montague, my all-time favorite cop.”

  The blood in his veins felt like it had turned to ice. “Ricky.”

  “Long time, no see,” Ricky singsonged.

  Focusing every cell in his body, Xavier knew he needed to play this right. There was no way he was letting Ricky get away again. However, he also knew that Ricky was intent on torturing Annabelle. And the best way to do that would be for Ricky to kill him. Xavier was sure that Annabelle would not survive that. If she didn’t outright commit suicide, she would simply let herself waste away.

  “How’s Annabelle?” Ricky’s tone was mockingly polite.

  Wanting to keep Ricky’s attention on himself and as far away from Annabelle as he could, he responded, “Ricky, it’s time to give up. Let me take you in. End this now. You knew at some point you'd get caught.”

  Ricky merely chuckled and ignored him. “Been missing me?” he asked instead. “I've been missing Annabelle. I think about her all the time. I bet she thinks about me all the time, too.”

  Xavier could hear the grin in Ricky’s voice, he was obviously loving this. Xavier forced his own voice to remain calm. “Ricky, it’s over. This time you don’t have a stunt to pull to coerce me into letting you go. Don’t bother dragging it out.” As he spoke, Xavier continued to slowly cross the room. He was sure that wherever Ricky was hiding, he couldn’t see him. If he could find Ricky first, he’d have the element of surprise on his side.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Ricky drawled. “So far I'm two for two; I bet I can make it three for three.”

  Xavier remembered that he had heard voices from inside the house while he was out on the porch. It was conceivable that Ricky had a hostage. So far, he had made sure that if the police stumbled upon him he always had an escape plan. The car outside had a baby seat. Ricky could be dating a woman with a child so he would have the perfect leverage to get away again should the need arise. As much as he wanted Ricky arrested and safely locked away in jail, he wouldn’t risk harming an innocent child to do it.

  “Do you have someone in here with you, Ricky?” Xavier asked. “I saw a car outside. It had a child’s car seat in it. Is there a baby here? Do you have a hostage? I don’t want you to hurt anyone else, Ricky. If there’s someone here with you, then let them go.”

  “I can't wait to see Annabelle again,” Ricky continued as though Xavier hadn't spoken. “You got my letter, right? I remember last time Annabelle and I were together, and I just can't wait to go at it again.”

  Xavier chewed on his lip to keep himself from speaking. Ricky was just trying to antagonize him. There was no need to play into it. His priority right now was to arrest Ricky. Besides, there was no chance in hell that Ricky Preston was going to get his hands on Annabelle ever again. Xavier was in the next room now—a huge kitchen with a large dining table; on the table he could just
make out the shape of bottles. Most likely a baby was indeed here.

  “Have you and Annabelle…how should I put this?” Ricky paused dramatically. “Have the two of you been intimate yet? Or did I make such an impact that she hasn’t been able to do it yet?”

  Xavier could taste blood in his mouth and realized that he’d bitten his lips hard enough to break the skin. Annabelle had been a virgin before Ricky raped her, and she was still too traumatized to do more with him than kissing and a little touching. Not that Xavier minded. He loved Annabelle and he was in this with her for the long haul; he didn’t mind waiting until she was ready.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Ricky laughed.

  Xavier hated that sound. Hated that Ricky took such pleasure in Annabelle’s pain. Pain that he had caused. The man was pure evil. The kitchen looked empty, but he could still hear Ricky, so the man had to be close by.

  He turned to head back to the living room when Ricky Preston suddenly appeared before him. Before Xavier could react, Ricky fired a gun and his chest exploded in agony. His gun clattered from his hands and fell uselessly to the floor. His hands clutched at his chest, coming away covered in warm, sticky blood. Suddenly woozy, he swayed, staggered backwards and collapsed to the floor.

  “One down, one to go. Can't wait to do Annabelle.” Ricky’s sneering face hovered above him, and then he was gone.

  * * * * *

  6:32 P.M.

  “Ryan, that was shots coming from Isabella’s house.” Paige’s wide brown eyes turned to him as they pulled to a stop outside the address the old woman had given them. Grabbing the radio, she called for backup and an ambulance.

  Ryan had heard them, too, and his heart had almost stopped.

  He was almost positive that Isabella was living here, and he was terrified that the gunshot was Sofia’s sister killing herself. Isabella was unbalanced. She’d already had a bad temper, and a sexual assault at the hands of some kids at her school had pushed her completely over the edge. While he personally couldn’t care less if Isabella died, he could never forgive her for poisoning Sofia and making her think she was dying or for causing her to fall down the stairs. He knew Sofia would be devastated if her sister committed suicide.