by Jane Blythe
“That’s very thoughtful, Detective Xander,” forcing her usually serious face into a smile. “But I’ll be fine.”
He opened his mouth to argue when one of the EMT’s called out to him that they were ready to leave for the hospital, so he shot her a grave stare instead. “It’s Ryan. I have to go; do you still have my card?”
She nodded.
“So you have my number, call me if you need anything. Really, Isabella, for anything.”
As she watched Ryan rush off toward the ambulance, Isabella decided it was a sign. She was glad that Sofia had survived; she’d never really wanted to kill her sister. The fact that Sofia had indeed survived had convinced Isabella to let her sister live. Which meant it was time to focus on the next murder. It was a toss-up between Logan Senior and Logan Junior. Whichever one she decided on, she was going to enjoy it.
AUGUST 17th
1:36 A.M.
“We’re here,” a voice murmured beside her.
Where was here and why did her eyes feel so heavy?
“Sofia? Wake up, cupcake, we’re home,” a hand gently cupped her face, fingers brushing across her temple.
And then everything clicked. ‘Here’ was her house. The voice was Ryan’s. And he was bringing her home from the hospital after her disaster of a charity event last night. Her chest still ached, and she had a huge bruise forming on her breast, right above her heart. If she hadn't been wearing the Kevlar, she’d be dead.
Prying open her eyes, she mustered up a smile for Ryan. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” he smiled back. “Can you walk?”
“I think so,” she said, unsure whether she could or not, but determined to try.
Ryan took her hands and tugged her to her feet. He quickly moved an arm to wrap around her waist as her knees buckled. “I got you,” he whispered in her ear.
Leaning into him, grateful for his strength, Sofia hoped when this was all over, somehow the doctors could manage to find out what was wrong with her and fix it so she could have this sweet, caring guy.
“Hey,” Ryan’s hand cupped her face again, his thumb brushing away tears from her cheek. “You’re crying. You okay?”
“Just tired.” She raised her hand to cover Ryan’s and held it there, drinking in his warmth and strength.
“It’s been a crazy couple of days,” he said, bending down to kiss her forehead. “Come on, you want to try a few steps?”
“Yeah,” nodding tiredly, no longer sure she did, but too stubborn not to give it a go. Leaning heavily on Ryan, they started toward the house. She made it halfway before she was too breathless to take another step.
“Had enough?” Ryan asked gently.
Managing a nod, Sofia let out a weary sigh of relief as Ryan gathered her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to the house.
“Sofia.” Edmund rushed at them the second they came through the front door, snatching her from Ryan’s arms and squeezing her tightly.
“I’m okay, Edmund,” she assured her friend. “I just have a bruise,” and two broken ribs she added to herself, but didn’t want to worry Edmund more by telling him.
“You,” Edmund glared at Ryan, she could feel the anger bubbling inside him. “I don’t like you anymore.”
“Edmund,” she warned. It wasn’t Ryan’s fault she’d been shot; it was hers. She was the one who had insisted on letting the police use her as bait.
“No, Sofia,” Edmund growled. “He said he’d keep you safe, and he didn’t. You were shot.”
“It wasn’t Ryan’s fault,” she insisted. “Let me go.”
“No. I almost lost you tonight,” Edmund said fiercely, and she could feel his whole body shudder.
“But you didn’t,” she soothed, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Edmund’s right. I’m sorry, Sofia,” Ryan’s blue eyes were devastated.
Ryan had already apologized to her at least fifty times in the last few hours. He’d apologized when she’d regained consciousness in the ambulance. He’d apologized while he held her hand in the ER. And he’d apologized in the car on the ride home. “It wasn’t your fault, Ryan,” she assured him again, just as she’d assured him each other time he’d apologized.
“It was mine.”
All three of their heads swiveled to Paige who stood in the doorway, her face a picture of earnest dismay.
“No, Paige,” she assured Ryan’s partner. “It wasn’t your fault either.”
“I promised we’d keep you safe and you were shot,” Paige’s brown eyes were dismal.
She pushed gently till Edmund reluctantly loosened his grip and lowered her to the ground. She was tired and in pain and she was getting mildly irritated with everyone for blaming themselves. She wasn’t a child. She’d made her decision weighing up the risks versus the potential gain. Heading to the lounge room, she dropped wearily down onto one of the sofas. “You guys need to stop blaming yourselves. I don’t blame either of you.”
“Sofia . . .” Edmund begun.
“Edmund, I’m tired; please, just let it go,” she begged.
He looked like he wanted to argue but wisely opted to keep his mouth shut. “Okay, I’ll let you get some rest.” He crouched beside her, “Mary and I will come check on you tomorrow.” Edmund made it to the door then stopped, turning to face Ryan, his fury had melted away replaced by pure fear. “Don’t let anything happen to her.”
“I won't,” Ryan promised.
“Are you two going to be okay here on your own tonight?” Paige asked once Edmund had left.
“We’ll be fine,” Ryan assured his partner. “No one is getting to Sofia tonight.”
“All right,” Paige agreed reluctantly. “Call if you need me. Sofia, try to get some sleep. We’ll find this guy.”
Finally, alone, they sat side by side on her couch. Sofia took Ryan’s hand and entwined their fingers.
“Sofia,” he began, watching her hesitantly, “I'm not good at knowing what to say. If you’re looking for a guy who’s always going to say and do the right thing, then . . .” he trailed off.
She frowned slightly. “Why would I need someone who always says and does the right thing?” she asked.
“Because . . .” Ryan stammered, “because you’re sick, and with everything going on with your family, fragile and . . .”
Sofia let out a frustrated breath, she was so tired of everyone treating her like she was helpless.
“See,” Ryan looked devastated. “I always say the wrong thing. I always make things worse. I just meant, you're vulnerable right now and I don’t want to make things worse.”
Growling irritably, she stood and paced.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan was watching her helplessly.
Sofia would have been more annoyed had it not been for the panicked regret on Ryan’s face. She took a calming breath, “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I’m just so tired of being sick, of everyone being so careful around me and treating me like I can’t do things for myself anymore, because . . .” she trailed off.
“Because you can’t?” Ryan finished gently.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I just hate how being sick has changed my life. My father wants to use it as an excuse to get me under his thumb. Take advantage of the fact that I’m...” weak, she’d been going to say, but couldn’t make the word come out of her mouth, even if it was true. “Not as strong as I used to be,” she finished instead.
“I’m sorry, Sofia,” Ryan said again. His hands balled into fists, his face a mixture of concern and guilt.
She was scared that what she was about to say was true. “You’re afraid of me. Afraid you’ll hurt me, afraid I’ll break, afraid I’ll die,” she finished, watching him closely to gauge his reaction.
“Well, there is a serial killer after you,” he joked weakly.
“Don’t,” she warned, annoyed again. “I’m serious.”
“I’m sorry, Sofia,” again he looked devastated that he’d said the wrong thing.
She wondered what could make this gorgeous, kind, thoughtful guy so self-conscious.
“Stop apologizing to me,” she glared. “I might die, Ryan,” she’d thought a lot about that the last few months. “You're going to find whoever is killing my family, but the doctors might never find out what’s wrong with me. If you can’t deal with that, then you shouldn’t get involved with me. Can you deal with it?”
“No.”
She staggered back as though he’d slapped her. It was fair enough. He had every right not to get involved with her just to watch her die. But it still hurt.
He wrung his hands together. “That didn’t come out right,” Ryan looked distressed, like he wanted to come and hold her in his arms but was afraid of upsetting her again. “I meant just like you believe that I’m going to find this killer, I believe that the doctors are going to find out what's wrong with you.”
Letting out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, Ryan’s confidence brought hope to her own heart. Impulsively, she crossed back to the couch and pressed her lips against his, kissing him deeply. “I don’t want you to ever be afraid of me, Ryan,” she told him seriously when she finally pulled away.
“I just don’t want to hurt you, cupcake; I really like you,” he said shyly.
“I really like you, too,” she smiled weakly, a headache was beginning to pound at her temples, her vision already starting to spin, even aside from being shot, she’d overdone it last night. “Why do you call me cupcake?” she asked.
“Oh, I didn’t even realize that I did that,” he responded, surprised. Then he grimaced, “It’s too cheesy, right?”
“It’s cheesy,” Sofia grinned. “But I like it. I always wanted a cheesy pet name. Why cupcake, though?”
Ryan chuckled, “I guess because it’s what my dad always called my mom. I can call you something else if you don’t like it.”
“No, I like it,” she assured him, the term of endearment was sweet. Wearily she rested her head against Ryan’s shoulder.
“You’re tired,” his arms came around her.
“Mmmhmm,” she nodded against him, her head too heavy to lift.
“Where’s your medication?”
“Bathroom cabinet,” she whispered, pressing her eyes closed to try to ease the pain in her head.
Gently, he laid her back to rest against the couch, and hurried from the room. Sofia attempted some of the breathing exercises her doctor had taught her to try and quell the nausea mounting in her stomach. They weren’t working.
“Here you go,” Ryan murmured, slipping an arm beneath her shoulders and raising her up. He dropped her pills into her hand and held the glass of water to her lips. Once she’d swallowed them he picked her up without a word and carried her up the stairs.
As he moved to tuck her under the covers she caught his hand, “Stay with me, please. I’m scared, Ryan.”
He gave her a reassuring smile, “Of more nightmares?”
“More like living nightmares. Who’s going to be dead when I wake up in the morning?” Tears trickled from her eyes, “What if I’m next? The killer already tried once. What if they come back and next time I'm not so lucky?”
“Shh,” Ryan soothed, stretching out on the bed beside her, his arms warm and strong around her. “I’m going to be right here, no one is going to get to you. And if you wake up scared, I’ll be here to hold you. No one is going to hurt you. I’ll be right here.”
“Promise?” she begged.
“Promise,” he kissed away her tears.
As she snuggled herself against Ryan and let her eyes fall closed, she held on to that thought and prayed for good dreams.
* * * * *
8:22 A.M.
“I’m looking forward to this,” Ryan told Paige as they pulled into the driveway of the Everette family estate. About an hour ago he had been wakened from a deep sleep by the buzzing of his phone. It had been his partner, with news that the results of the paternity test were in.
Judge Logan Everette II was the father.
Based on the fact that he was the child’s father, that he had lied about his affairs with her, and that he had been at home on the estate where Brooke had been murdered on the night of her death, they had enough to arrest him. And Ryan couldn’t be happier. For drugging and imprisoning Sofia against her will alone, the judge deserved to lose his freedom. If he really had killed Brooke and stolen her child, then he deserved to die.
Sofia didn’t yet know that her father was about to be arrested. She had still been fast asleep, her body draped across his, when he’d received Paige’s call, given how emotionally and physically drained she was, he had decided to let her sleep. There would be time for her world to be tipped upside down later. So he had gently eased out from underneath her, called Edmund to come and stay with her, made sure she had two officers posted outside her front door, and then picked up Paige on the way to the Everette estate.
“I have to admit it will be pretty satisfying to snap the cuffs on him,” Paige shot him a grin. “How’s Sofia this morning?”
“I'm guessing sore and tired, but she was still asleep when I left.”
“She doesn’t know about her father?”
“Not yet.”
“Don’t you think you should have told her?” Paige asked.
“She needed the rest. I asked Edmund to wait until I got back to tell her. Besides, she doesn’t even like her father, and after what he did to her the other day, I doubt she’ll be too broken up about it,” Ryan answered confidently.
“I don’t think she likes people making decisions for her,” Paige reminded him gently. “Especially given that she’s been sick lately.”
“I'm sure everything will be fine,” he reiterated, but a little less confident than he had been a moment ago. “We’re here.”
As Ryan brought the car to a stop, both his and Paige’s gazes were drawn to the enormous house. But Ryan wasn’t impressed with its grandeur; instead, he was thinking about the horrors that it had seen. Both in the last week and in the past, in whatever haunted Sofia’s dreams.
Brushing aside concerns about Sofia for the moment, he’d explain his reasoning to her later. Now he was going to go and arrest her father. Knocking on the front door, he was surprised when it wasn’t opened by the butler, but by the judge himself.
“What do you two want?” Logan growled before either of them had a chance to speak.
“Please put your hands behind your back, sir,” Ryan fought to keep the smirk from his face.
“What?” Logan demanded.
“You are under arrest for the murder of Brooke Mariano,” Paige informed him.
“What?” the judge stuttered, eyeing them both like they were aliens.
“Please put your hands behind your back,” Ryan repeated.
“I most certainly will not. Have you two lost your minds? Why on earth would I kill Brooke Mariano?”
“Because she was pregnant with your child,” Paige informed him.
“How could you know that?” Logan glowered. “I thought the killer took the baby with them.”
“We were able to run a DNA test from the amniotic fluid. You are the proud papa,” Ryan couldn’t quite control his snarl.
“So because I am apparently the father of Brooke’s child that means I murdered her? Stole the baby? And killed two of my sons, my wife, and my daughter-in-law?” Logan looked incredulous.
“You are just under arrest for Brooke Mariano’s murder,” Paige told him. “Now we are not going to ask you again. If you don’t put your hands behind your back, we will add resisting arrest to your charges.”
Ryan wanted to add drugging and holding Sofia against her will to Judge Everette’s charges, but he wasn’t sure there was any proof, so there was no point upsetting Sofia more than she already would be once she found out about her father.
The judge spluttered, but, realizing he didn’t have a choice, he put his hands behind his back as Ryan stepped toward him with handcuffs out. “You have the
right to remain silent,” Ryan began. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right . . .”
“I know my rights,” Logan spat out. “I’m a judge.”
Continuing with a smile, “To speak to a lawyer, and have him present while you are being questioned. If you cannot afford a lawyer . . .”
“You know darn well I can afford any lawyer I want,” Logan interrupted.
“. . . One will be appointed to you. You can decide at any time to exercise these rights and not answer any questions or make a statement. Do you understand these rights?”
Logan just glared.
“Do you understand these rights? Sir?” Ryan repeated.
“Of course I do, I am not an imbecile,” Logan snapped. “You’ll be sorry for this. Sofia will never forgive you.”
* * * * *
10:35 A.M.
“How could you?” Sofia demanded, storming toward Ryan.
“I’m sorry,” Edmund said from behind her. “I didn’t tell her. Isabella called before I got a chance to tell her not to tell Sofia until you got back.”
“Ganging up on me?” Sofia turned her glare from Ryan to Edmund. “Playing games with my life and treating me like a child, just like my father. Coming from you, Edmund, that really hurts.”
“It wasn’t Edmund’s fault,” Ryan came toward her tentatively. “I asked him not to say anything until I got back to your place.”
“Now that I believe,” she glared at him with eyes she knew were as cold as her tone.
“Cupcake, I was just trying to protect you,” Ryan rested a hand on her shoulder.
Jerking herself out of reach. “Don’t touch me and don’t call me cupcake,” Sofia snapped. It was only ten-thirty in the morning and it had already been a horrible day. Waking from a nightmare, expecting Ryan’s comforting arms to come around her, wrapping her up and making her feel safe, but instead she had been alone. Dragging herself out of bed, her head aching, her chest burning, she had found Edmund in the kitchen. Her friend had been vague with her about where exactly Ryan had gone. And then Isabella had called to tell her about their father’s arrest.