One (Count to Ten Book 1)

by Jane Blythe

  “No,” Dr. Daniels was quickly becoming agitated. “I was one of her doctors after the car accident. Rawlin would never ever lay a hand on Lorraine; he loved her more than life itself.” That comment seemed to remind him that Rawlin Rankling no longer had a life, because for a second he faltered.

  “You’ve kept in touch with the Ranklings?” Kate asked.

  His cheeks heated in embarrassment. “Lorraine was one of my first cases. Rawlin reminded me of my father; I got more attached to him than I should have. Over the years I've stayed in touch, helped him out by looking after Lorraine every now and then to give him a break. Once again, I have to tell you all that if someone was abusing Lorraine it was not Rawlin,” the doctor eyed them all defiantly.

  “Do you have any idea who it could be then?” Xavier inquired.

  “No. Now I'm going in to see Lorraine,” Dr. Daniels barged past them.

  “Dr. Daniels,” Xavier stepped in front of him to block his path. “Lorraine is a victim of a violent crime. We need to ask her a few questions.”

  “Good luck getting answers, she won’t be able to tell you much. And what makes you think she even saw anything? Annabelle and Nicole didn’t.”

  “The killer didn’t use drugs or tape to cover her eyes this time,” Kate told him. “That means Lorraine could have seen the man who killed her husband and two other families.”

  “She can maybe give you hair and eye color,” Dr. Daniels informed them. “But height, weight, age, facial features, she won’t have a clue.”

  Glancing at Dr. Pedding for confirmation, the other doctor nodded. “And you’ll have to phrase everything as a yes or no question,” Dr. Pedding added. “She can respond by tapping her finger or blinking her eyes.”

  “And you’ll take it easy on her,” Dr. Daniels ordered. “Does she know Rawlin is dead?”

  “She knows.” Kate had been able to tell the second they’d found Lorraine in her bed that she already knew her husband was dead. “I think the killer told her before he stabbed her.”

  “I'm going in with you.” Dr. Daniels didn’t wait for their consent; he simply turned and barged into Lorraine’s room.

  “I told you I didn’t like that guy,” Xavier muttered as they followed the doctor through the door. “He’s now connected to all three cases.”

  Inside, the doctor had pulled up a chair close to Lorraine’s bed, he was holding her hand and leaning over her. As they got closer, they could see the affection shining in both Dr. Daniels’ and Lorraine’s eyes. It was pretty obvious that the two were very close, making Kate doubt that the doctor was involved.

  “Mrs. Rankling?” Kate came up beside the bed. “My name’s Detective Hannah, remember we met at your house earlier?”

  Lorraine blinked twice.

  “That means yes,” Dr. Daniels supplied.

  “I need to ask you some questions, is that okay?”

  Two blinks.

  “Did you see the man who hurt you?”

  Two blinks.

  “Do you think we could talk about what he looked like?”

  Two blinks.

  “Did he have brown eyes?”

  One blink.

  “Blue eyes?”

  Two blinks.

  “Okay on to hair color. Did he have dark hair?”

  One blink.

  “Light hair?”

  One blink.

  “Red hair?”

  One blink.

  There were no other hair colors left. “Do you know what color hair he had, Mrs. Rankling?”

  One blink. This time tears glistened brightly in her eyes.

  “Are you sure she can’t give us more?” Kate directed this question to Dr. Daniels.

  “Lorraine has the mental capacity of a child around the age of four, to her everyone looks old and tall and big, anything she gives you won’t be reliable,” the doctor informed them.

  “Lorraine, did you know the man who hurt you?”

  A hesitation.

  “Lorraine, do you know who he is?”

  Another hesitation followed by two blinks.

  “Can you tell us?” Kate wasn’t sure how to get that information out of the woman and wished they had a photo of Lachlan Thompson on them.

  Her eyes darted around the room before settling on Dr. Daniels, and Kate wondered if maybe Xavier had been right after all.

  * * * * *

  10:42 A.M.

  “What’d you get?” Xavier asked Kate as he set the phone down. They were at their desks, trying to find any links between the Englewoods, Jenners, and Ranklings. For the moment they were looking for anything that might link the families to their two prime suspects: Lachlan Thompson and Dr. Bruce Daniels.

  He’d taken Dr. Daniels and Kate had taken Lachlan and for the last hour or so they had worked away, trying desperately to find a link that might point them in the correct direction. Now it was time to compare notes and see what they came up with.

  “All right,” Kate shuffled the mess of papers on her desk and settled more comfortably into her chair. “I couldn’t find anything linking Lachlan to Rawlin and Lorraine Rankling, but I did find out that John Englewood did some electrical work at Lachlan’s favorite bar. Maybe he saw the guy there, it sparked an idea, he didn’t think the family would be able to be linked back to him because of the flimsy connection, we might not ever have even found it if we hadn’t specifically asked. Oh, and Lachlan drives a red Toyota.”

  “Dr. Daniels drives a red Nissan, so I guess that makes them even on that score,” Xavier added.

  “What’d you get?”

  “Okay, Dr. Bruce Daniels is forty-six years old, currently single and never been married, and like I said, drives a red Nissan. No criminal record, but I did find something interesting in his past at the hospital. Apparently several years ago there were some allegations against him that he was poisoning children who came into the ER with young mothers. There were four cases where he was accused of doing something to kids, only ever when there was a single mother. He’d examine the child, who would get dramatically worse, then he would come swooping in to attempt to save the day, and would be overly interested in the moms. These were only allegations, because they couldn’t find any evidence of what he was doing to the children, so in the end, they had to let it drop. But they insisted he get some counseling. After the accusations and the order to get help, there were no more recorded suspicious cases.”

  “That could fit with our Munchausen theory.” Kate looked thoughtful. “Did you find any links to our families?”

  “Well, we know he was one of Lorraine Rankling’s doctors, so I checked to see whether anyone from the Englewood or Jenner family had recently taken a trip to the hospital. About a month ago, Katherine Englewood fell off her bike and split her head open; Annabelle took her to the hospital. About six weeks ago, Nicole Jenner took her daughter in when Callie had a bad case of food poisoning. Dr. Daniels was not the treating doctor in either case, but he was on shift both times, so he could have seen them there and had access to their charts.”

  “Maybe he learned his lesson from last time and decided to pick people who weren’t his patients.” Kate’s smile faltered. “But we’re still no closer to pointing the finger at which guy it is. All of this is circumstantial, and it could just be coincidental. We don’t have any actual proof that either Lachlan Thompson or Dr. Daniels is involved. It could still be someone else and this could all be completely random.”

  “Even if it is random, he still has to have seen them somewhere.” Xavier didn’t get the feeling this was random though; it felt like their killer had a purpose.

  “It doesn’t feel random.” Kate seemed to read his mind.

  “No, it feels like he picked these particular families for a reason. We just don’t know what that reason is.”

  “If he’s choosing these families for a reason, he’s not studying them very well to get a sense of their routines. Rawlin Rankling was killed in the kitchen, which is different than the oth
ers. If the killer had been planning this out properly, he would have known that it was Rawlin’s routine to settle his wife down for the night and then start cooking. By approaching Rawlin while he was awake, the man could have fought back, and that was a big risk to take…”

  “Maybe a calculated one, though,” Xavier contemplated. “Rawlin is seventy-four, probably no match for our killer. Plus, the killer could have surprised him from behind, slashed his throat before he even knew someone else was in the room. Or, maybe the killer was someone Rawlin knew and didn’t see as a threat.” He began thinking of the way Lorraine’s eyes had settled on Dr. Daniels when they’d asked her if she knew her attacker. “There was no break in this time, either,” he reminded his partner. “So the idea that it was someone the Ranklings knew and had given a key to is looking good.”

  “I think we need to talk about Annabelle,” Kate announced suddenly, studying him with a probing blue stare. “Are you going to tell Rob that she spent the night at your house?”

  “In the spare room,” he reminded his partner, but considered her question. He knew their lieutenant would go bananas if he found out that one of his detectives had brought a victim from an active case home to spend the night, no matter how innocent his intentions had been.

  “Xavier, are you really serious about Annabelle, or do you just think she has unusual eyes?”

  “It’s not that her eyes are unusual.” He tried to explain what he was feeling. “It’s what’s in them. I don’t know, I just feel some sort of connection.”

  “Well, you have to decide whether you're going to do something about it or not, because if you start up with her and then change your mind, you don’t want that to be the straw that broke the camel’s back with her and push her over the edge…”

  “Like I did with Julia,” he inserted.

  “No, not like what happened with Julia,” Kate contradicted firmly. “Julia didn’t tell anyone that she was raped, and there’s no way you could have predicted that she would have wound up doing what she did. You have to let that go, Xavier. I know it’s hard, but you can’t let Julia’s mistakes rule your life. You didn’t know what Julia was planning to do. If you had known, you would have stopped her. If you really think something could develop between you and Annabelle, then go for it. I’ll support you, but right now your priority has to be finding this killer.”

  “I know that, Kate,” he assured her. “I know that I need to let go of Julia, but unfortunately, it’s a lot easier said than done. I don’t know if anything’s going to develop between me and Annabelle. All I know is I can’t stop thinking about her, and that hasn’t happened since Julia…”

  “Who’s Julia?”

  * * * * *

  11:09 A.M.

  “Who’s Julia?” Annabelle repeated, curious about the woman Detective Montague had neglected to mention last night when he’d been telling her about his family.

  “Annabelle, what are you doing here?” Detective Montague looked a little sheepish.

  “You have my keys,” she informed him, wondering whether he’d taken them on purpose so she couldn’t get back home. “If you’ll just give them to me, I’ll get out of your hair, go back home and get my things, and then see if Ricky will let me stay with him for a while.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “Took a cab from your house.” If Detective Montague’s partner was surprised to hear that she had spent the night with him, she didn’t show it.

  “I don’t want you going back there alone,” Detective Montague informed her.

  “Fine,” she turned around to leave.

  “Wait,” Detective Montague grabbed her arm and held her in place. “Where are you going?”

  “Ricky’s. My parents might have given him a key to our house.” Annabelle tried not to think about her parents or her house right now. As much as she dreaded going back there, she had to get her wallet and license, the keys to her car and some of her clothes.

  “Annabelle, we need to talk,” Detective Montague held onto her arm.

  “I’ll go pay the cab driver.” Detective Hannah excused herself and disappeared.

  Annabelle yanked herself out of Detective Montague’s grip once he’d guided her into an empty room. “Who’s Julia?” she repeated her earlier question, wanting to keep the attention off herself. She hadn’t heard his whole conversation but she had heard him say that he wasn’t sure if anything was going to happen between them but he couldn’t stop thinking about her, and apparently he hadn’t felt that way since someone called Julia had been in his life.

  “Julia was my wife,” he replied uncomfortably.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been married last night when you were telling me about your family?” she demanded, knowing it was none of her business. But focusing on someone else’s business meant she could forget about her own for a while.

  “Why were you eavesdropping?” he asked, instead of answering her question.

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping,” Annabelle protested. “I was coming to get my keys and happened to hear what you were talking about. Why didn’t you tell me that you had a wife?” She wasn’t sure why the knowledge that Detective Montague had been married bothered her so much. No matter what he was thinking about her, it wasn’t mutual. She didn’t want a boyfriend.

  “Why would I have told you?” He looked annoyed now. “You’re just a victim in a case I'm working.”

  She had to admit she was hurt when he said that. She didn’t want to admit it, but it had felt nice having someone take care of her last night. She didn’t understand why if he was interested in her, he didn’t just say something, then she could let him down gently and move on. Despite her resolution that she wasn't interested, when she spoke she couldn’t quite keep the tremble from her voice. “If I'm just a victim in your case, then why did you come looking for me last night? Why did you take me back to your house and sit with me for hours so that I wouldn’t be alone? Why did you hold me in your arms while I cried? And why do you keep looking at me with those longing glances?”

  “I…uh…I don’t…I mean, I…” Detective Montague stammered awkwardly.

  “Look, it doesn’t matter anyway,” she sighed sadly. “You actually seem like a pretty nice guy, well except for the accusing me of being a murderer thing, but I don’t date. Ever.”

  Now the Detective looked hurt. “Julia and I were married for two years, but three years ago she was raped. She didn’t tell anyone, including me, what had happened until it was too late. She did something that almost destroyed all of our lives. It’s hard for me to talk about her—to move on from her—but I want to. For the first time in a long time, I want to move on from her.”

  Annabelle was shocked when a wave of desire to run her hands through Detective Montague’s silky light brown hair washed over her. She didn’t think about men that way. She made sure she didn’t. And she didn’t really think she felt anything for this man she didn’t even know. It was probably because she had just lost her family, she didn’t really have any friends, she felt scared and lonely, and Detective Montague kept popping up and staring at her like she was somehow important to him.

  To keep herself on track, she took another shot at anger. “You tricked me last night. You broke into my house, made me think that you’d left, and waited for me to come out. You took advantage of my vulnerability to get close to me, because for some strange reason that I can’t fathom you think you have feelings for me.”

  “Technically, I didn’t break in; I had a key,” he made an attempt at joking, saw she wasn’t amused and changed track. “I was just trying to help you. I was worried about you after everything you’d been through, and when I went to the motel and didn’t find you there, I thought you might have gone back to your house. I knew it would be hard for you. I didn’t mean to trick you, and I definitely didn’t want to take advantage of the fact that you’re vulnerable right now. I really just wanted to help you.”

  “If you really wanted to help me
, then why did you leave me to wake up alone in your house with nothing but a note to explain that you’d gone to work?” It had been terrifying to wake up from the grips of a nightmare all by herself in a strange house.

  “I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “I should have woken you to tell you, but you were finally sleeping soundly, and I didn’t want to wake you—you needed to rest.”

  “I was scared,” she whispered, hating that everything left her fearful these days.

  “I'm sorry. I didn’t intend to do it, but we got a call that another family was killed.”

  She was instantly crestfallen. “Another one?”

  “Yes, I'm sorry, Annabelle.”

  “How many?”

  “Two, an elderly couple. The wife was disabled, he left her alive, even let her see him.”

  She closed her eyes for a second, trying to take it all in. She was aware of a presence right in front of her even before his hands rested lightly on her shoulders, careful to avoid the injury on her left one. Detective Montague didn’t speak, just waited until she was ready.

  “Their names were Rawlin and Lorraine Rankling. Do you know anyone by that name?” he asked, when she finally opened her eyes.

  She shook her head because she didn’t trust herself to speak right now.

  “Did you take Katherine to the emergency room recently?”

  His question surprised her. “Yes, about a month ago. She fell off her bike and hit her head, she had to get stitches.”

  “Do you remember seeing Dr. Daniels there that day?”

  “Dr. Daniels didn’t treat Katherine, and I don’t remember seeing him, but I wasn’t paying attention to anything but my sister. Katherine is…” Realizing her mistake, “I mean was,” steadying the hitch in her voice, “a bit of a wimp. She was screaming and crying the whole time we were there. I don’t remember anything else. Why are you asking me questions about Dr. Daniels again?” She didn’t want to believe that the doctor who had been so nice to her was in any way involved.