Three (Count to Ten Book 3)

by Jane Blythe

  “Elias?” she didn’t have the energy to form the entire sentence and was counting on Ryan to know what she needed.

  “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll call him for you and have him meet us at the hospital,” he assured her.

  Mark said something to her, but Paige didn’t hear what it was. In fact, she didn’t hear anything at all. Her hearing faded along with her vision, and with it the pain, as she slipped into unconsciousness.

  * * * * *

  5:26 P.M.

  Ryan paced restlessly across the surgical waiting room.

  He was out of his mind with worry over Paige.

  As soon as he had dropped down beside her in the parking garage he had known her condition was serious. She had been weak and woozy, but lucid. Hopefully, her head injuries weren’t too bad. The fact that she had been having difficulties breathing had been what had scared him the most.

  In a panic, he’d called for an ambulance, and then his brother Jack. He’d lucked out because Mark had been coming to meet Jack at the precinct for some reason he could no longer recall. His younger brother was a doctor—a trauma surgeon—and had begun treating Paige immediately. Once Mark had inserted the needle into her chest, her breathing had improved, but she hadn't regained consciousness.

  Mark had said Paige was lucky he had turned up when he had. If he hadn't, if Paige had sustained just a few more blows, then she might have already been dead by the time he got to her. At first, he hadn't known that it was Paige who was being attacked. All he’d seen was a man standing over a prone body and swinging a baseball bat. It wasn’t until he had fallen to his knees beside the body that he had realized it was his partner.

  At first Paige’s eyes had been closed, her head and face covered in blood, and he hadn't even been sure she was still alive. As he’d pressed his fingers to her neck to check for her pulse, she had begun to whimper, and then at his command, she opened her eyes. His temporary relief at seeing her conscious quickly evaporated when she told him that the person who had attacked her was the person who had been stalking her, and that that person was Sofia’s stalker.

  The knowledge that Sofia’s stalker had taken the leap to violence was terrifying. Obviously, the stalker was a threat to Paige, because he somehow believed that he and Paige were having an affair. It was also possible that the stalker would become a physical threat to Sofia, as well. Apparently, the stalker had appointed himself Sofia’s protector. He wanted something from Sofia; when she didn’t give it to him, he could flip quickly from protector to assailant.

  Ryan was also worried about how Sofia was going to react when she found out that her stalker had nearly killed Paige. She was going to blame herself. She would think that if only she hadn't been friends with Paige, or if only she and he weren’t involved, or if only she’d been able to identify her stalker, then Paige wouldn’t have gotten hurt. But they couldn’t play that game. Sofia had nothing to feel guilty about; it wasn’t her fault. In fact, if it was anyone’s fault it was his…

  “Hey,” Xavier suddenly appeared before him. “How is she?”

  Ryan tiredly scrubbed his hands over his face. “She’s in surgery.”

  “How bad are her injuries?”

  “Pretty bad. She has multiple skull fractures, broken arm, broken ribs, pneumothorax, and internal bleeding in her abdomen, plus bruises over pretty much her entire body,” Ryan listed.

  Xavier winced. “What’s her prognosis?”

  “They don’t know,” Ryan replied. “She never woke up again, so they won't know if there’s brain damage until she does, but she was awake and talking to me at the scene, so that’s a good sign. They weren’t sure where she was bleeding from, but they were hopeful that they’d be able to locate the source and fix it in surgery. Mark probably saved her life by starting treatment immediately. He’s with her now.”

  Xavier absorbed the information, then was quiet for a moment. “We’re all praying that she’ll pull through. Here,” Xavier handed him a bag. “Jack sent you some clean clothes.”

  Ryan glanced down at his sweater, which was smeared with Paige’s blood. “Thanks,” he took the bag. It was just like his big brother to think of something so practical as clean clothes. He couldn’t walk around for the rest of the day covered in his partner’s blood, but the idea of changing hadn't yet occurred to him.

  “You're welcome.”

  “Please tell me that they found something to tell us who this guy is?” Jack and Rose had remained at the parking garage to run the scene, but Rose had wanted to travel in the ambulance with Paige to the hospital. The paramedics had refused to take all of them, and there was no way Ryan was leaving his partner, so he and Mark had gone with Paige, and Rose had reluctantly stayed behind—on the condition that he kept her updated on Paige’s condition.

  “Sorry; so far they have nothing,” Xavier apologetically replied.

  “Nothing?” Ryan repeated incredulously. “He dropped the bat when I yelled and he ran off.”

  “No fingerprints; he wore gloves,” Xavier explained.

  “There are security cameras,” he pointed out.

  “And he knew it,” Xavier said. “He kept his face covered the entire time. Jack and Rose checked the footage, but we never get a look at him. I'm sorry, maybe Paige can give you a description when she wakes up. Or maybe this new information, that he thinks you and Paige are having an affair, will help Sofia figure out who he is,” Xavier suggested.

  Ryan vigorously shook his head, “Sofia doesn’t know yet. I'm worried about how she’s going to take it; she and Paige have become close. I asked Jack and Rose to hold off on questioning her until I can be there, and I can't leave here until I know that Paige is going to be okay. I'd appreciate it if you don’t tell Annabelle, either. I don’t want Sofia to find out accidentally.”

  “Of course,” Xavier nodded understandingly. “We have news…”

  “Ryan.”

  They both turned as someone called his name. Elias was rushing toward them, his face a mask of panic.

  “How is she?” Elias asked as he reached them.

  “She’s still in surgery, she’s in serious condition,” he explained gently.

  “How serious?” Elias was looking dazed, like he couldn’t completely comprehend that this was happening.

  “Very,” Ryan replied.

  “How could this happen?” Elias murmured, his gaze riveted to the blood on Ryan’s sweater. “She was at work. I thought she’d be safe there. It’s a police station,” he added, seemingly more to himself than to them.

  “It’s my fault,” Ryan said quietly.

  Puzzled, Elias asked, “How is it your fault?”

  “Paige is my partner and my best friend. I knew she wasn’t sleeping, I knew she was distracted, I knew someone was stalking her. I should never have left her alone. I'm sorry.” Guilt had been eating him alive ever since Paige had told him that it was her stalker who’d attacked her.

  “Ryan,” Elias’ eyes cleared and he now looked deadly serious. “I don’t blame you and you know Paige wouldn’t, either. She didn’t want you hovering over her. You said the guy surprised her, and that he had a baseball bat. He went there to hurt her. There was nothing any of us could do to stop it from happening. Right now, all I care about is Paige and making sure she gets through this,” his voice began to crack.

  “We’re going to find who did this to her,” Ryan fiercely promised.

  Nodding distractedly, Elias’ eyes glazed back over with shock. “Do they know how long she’ll be in surgery? I want to see her.”

  “They weren’t sure; they didn’t know the extent of the damage,” Ryan explained. He knew exactly what Elias was going through. He’d been there himself after Isabella caused Sofia to fall down a flight of stairs and she was left fighting for her life. Sofia had survived. Now they had to believe that Paige would, too.

  “Ryan, I know you want to be here for Paige, but there isn’t anything you can do for her right now. Isabella and Ricky have killed
again,” Xavier told him.

  That caught his attention and momentarily overrode his guilt. “Where and how many?”

  Xavier led him a few steps away from Elias and lowered his voice. “Nine people at an Italian restaurant.”

  “How did they kill them?”

  “They were all shot in the head,” Xavier replied.

  “Then this one was done by Isabella. She’s a perfect shot,” he explained. Sofia was not going to like that.

  “They had sex there, after they committed the murders,” Xavier told him awkwardly.

  “They really are a couple,” he said dully. Again, Sofia was not going to like that. She didn’t even know about their supposed engagement yet, let alone that her sister was now killing with her lover. “That’s how we’re going to find them, something related to them as a couple.”

  “I agree,” Xavier nodded. “They’re engaged. Next logical step would be marriage. I doubt they’ll use a justice of the peace, they could threaten a minister,” he suggested.

  “Or they could use a justice of the peace and fake identities,” Ryan countered.

  “We should check out both—and hotels and honeymoon suites—Ricky has a thing for them. I know you're worried about Paige. I am too, but we need to go to the restaurant, view the scene, and then start planning where we think they’ll go next.” Xavier kept his voice gentle.

  Ryan was torn between wanting to stay here and wait for news on Paige and doing what he knew his partner would want him to do—go and find Ricky and Isabella. Reluctantly he headed to Elias, only because he knew Xavier was right. “Hey,” he announced. Elias turned slowly to stare at him. “I have to go. We have a crime scene we need to check out.”

  “Okay,” Elias still looked out of it.

  “Call me the second you know anything about Paige,” Ryan told him.

  “I will,” Elias promised.

  He hated that he had to walk out of the hospital before he knew that his partner was going to live, but he was more determined than ever to find Isabella and the stalker.

  * * * * *

  7:35 P.M.

  Isabella was curled up in Ricky’s bed flipping through wedding magazines.

  She had been on such a high after lunch at the restaurant that she’d asked Ricky to stop at a drug store on the way back home and picked some up.

  She was still riding that high.

  Who would have thought that killing nine innocent people could be so exhilarating?

  Certainly not her.

  She had always believed that if she was killing people who deserved it, then it was okay. But those people in the restaurant hadn't done anything that warranted murdering them. And yet, she felt no remorse. Maybe her father had been correct. Maybe she was just like him. He had killed girls who had never done a thing to deserve the horror and torment he dumped on them, and here she was, seemingly following in his footsteps.

  How many more people would she kill who didn’t deserve it?

  If Ricky had his way, then she guessed an awful lot.

  Could she be okay with that?

  Before today, she wouldn’t have been sure. Even after watching him kill those people in the jewelry store, she wasn't completely convinced. Sure, he had impressed her, but she hadn't known up until the moment she fired her gun that she could kill in cold blood.

  Ricky had opened a whole new world to her.

  A world she could never have experienced without him.

  And now, thanks to him, she was engaged and planning a wedding.

  Her wedding.

  When they bought the wedding magazines, Ricky had promised her that she could have whatever wedding she wanted. Dress, flowers, church, justice of the peace, honeymoon. Whatever she dreamed of, he would do for her. So she had set about studying the magazines in earnest. She had never believed that she would ever have cause to look through one. At least not for herself. Maybe she could have imagined looking through them with Sofia as they planned her sister’s wedding. Now, though, she was in full dreaming mode as she poured over every page, picturing herself as the beaming bride.

  There were so many choices.

  Did she want to go with a big white dress?

  Could a murderer get married in a church or was a justice of the peace more appropriate?

  She loved flowers, but she didn’t have a favorite, so should she just pick whatever was traditional or go without?

  Did she want to have a honeymoon? She and Ricky had barely been out of bed since they met, so did they need one?

  They wouldn’t have a reception because they wouldn’t have any guests. Maybe she’d like them to have a special meal afterward—just the two of them.

  Then they had to pick a date. Did she care what season they got married in? She didn’t have a favorite, so she guessed not. So then what date to pick? Sooner rather than later was probably best.

  The problem was that what she wanted most she probably couldn’t have.

  For her wedding, what would make her most happy would be to have her sister there celebrating with her.

  Only Sofia wouldn’t want to celebrate.

  She wouldn’t approve of Ricky Preston.

  Still, Isabella wanted Sofia to be there.

  Rolling off the bed, she retrieved her handbag and fished out her wallet. Inside was a picture of her and Sofia, taken shortly before Isabella had started with her plan to kill off their family.

  She and her sister were sitting side by side on a swing out on the grounds of their family’s estate. The sun was shining, making the natural gold highlights in Sofia’s red hair shimmer like real gold. Their arms were around each other’s shoulders and they were both smiling at the camera.

  Was there a way to make it happen?

  To get her sister to her wedding?

  “Who’s that?” a voice rumbled in her ear.

  Jumping, she hadn't heard Ricky enter the room. He moved quietly. She bet that helped him when he was committing a murder. “My sister, Sofia.”

  “That’s your sister?” Ricky’s blue eyes opened wide.

  “Yes,” she confirmed, confused.

  “She’s beautiful.” Ricky hadn't shifted his gaze from the picture.

  A stab of jealousy shafted through her. She was used to people seeing her sister as the pretty one and herself as the plain one. She’d thought Ricky was different, though. She thought he loved her. “She is,” Isabella agreed stiffly.

  He seemed to read her mind and chuckled. “I still love you, but your sister is hot. I’m talking drop-dead-gorgeous hot.”

  Jealousy turned to suspicion. “She’s my sister,” she reminded him.

  “I know.”

  The way he said it made her skin prickle. Ricky was a rapist. She didn’t want him anywhere near her sister. “I've been reading the wedding magazines and thinking about our wedding,” she announced, hoping to distract him.

  “Oh, yeah?” He said the words, but his eyes were still glued to Sofia’s picture.

  “Ricky, you're not listening to me.” She had to remind herself not to stamp her foot. She had a feeling tantrums would not help her get her way with Ricky Preston.

  “Sure I am.” He finally lifted his gaze to meet hers. “You pick a date?”

  “No, but I was thinking as soon as possible. What about tomorrow?” she suggested.

  He shrugged, a little disinterestedly. “Sure, whatever you want.”

  Isabella finally lost her temper. “Would you please stop staring at my sister?”

  “Can't help it. I told you, she’s hot. She turns me on.” He didn’t sound the least bit repentant.

  A glance at his crotch proved that to be true. “You aren’t thinking of raping her, are you?” Isabella hoped she sounded as outraged as she felt.

  “Not just thinking about it; I'm planning on doing it. We can grab her before we leave town, take her with us. That’s what you want, right? That way you can be with your sister. And we can keep the baby with us. Your sister can look after the kid,
and you get to keep your family.” He grinned at her, seemingly pleased with his plan.

  “You are not grabbing my sister so you can keep her close by and rape her whenever you feel like it. I forbid it.” She eyed him angrily.

  “Tough,” he shrugged again.

  “‘Tough’?” she repeated, astounded.

  “Hey, you knew who I was from the beginning,” he reminded her. “I see someone I want, I get them. I got you, didn’t I?” he goaded.

  “You didn’t get me,” she protested, outraged. “I'm not just here for your amusement, you know.”

  “Oh, no?” he teased, grabbing her and dragging her up against him, rubbing his bulging crotch against her. “I turn you on, don’t I?”

  “No,” she huffed, knowing it was a lie, but she was too angry with him right now to be honest with him.

  “Liar,” he laughed, kissing her roughly, then throwing her down on the bed.

  “Get off me.” She wriggled beneath him as he lay on top of her. Sex with Ricky was the last thing she wanted right now.

  “No way. You want me; you know you do. So, your sister turns me on; so what? I'm not in love with her. When I do her, it’ll just be sex. Nothing more. What we have goes way beyond that.”

  With that his mouth greedily took hers, and his hands began to roam her body. Unfortunately, they had been together so many times now that he knew exactly what to do to her to get her body responding almost against her will. Isabella fought it at first. How could she willingly have sex with a man who had told her outright that he intended to abduct and rape her sister? And yet, even as protestations flooded her mind, her body was hungrily melding with Ricky’s, seeking more and more of him.

  With a moan of pleasure, she surrendered and gave up her mind and body to Ricky.

  * * * * *

  10:46 P.M.

  Sofia had that awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  The kind of feeling that usually precipitated bad news.

  Maybe she was just being paranoid because things hadn't been going so well lately—with her stalker breaking in here three nights in a row and someone stalking Paige, and Isabella seemingly teaming up with another killer. It was a lot to add to her already-full plate.