One (Count to Ten Book 1)

by Jane Blythe

  “No, no, no,” Diane assured him, then took a deep breath. “I think Annabelle was raped.”

  Everyone gasped, which Xavier thought was odd since he couldn’t breathe at all. The fact that everyone was staring at him with thinly veiled concern wasn’t helping. “We asked Annabelle and she said she wasn’t,” he protested weakly, pictures of Julia floating through his mind.

  “Actually, Annabelle said she doesn’t remember anything about that night,” Kate corrected gently.

  “I found semen and vaginal secretions on the sheets,” Diane explained. “I’m sorry, Xavier.”

  “Why are you apologizing to me?” he asked hollowly, not liking everyone’s sudden interest in his personal life. “Maybe she had consensual sex.”

  “I also found evidence of vaginal bleeding,” Diane continued awkwardly. “I think Annabelle was a virgin.”

  No one said anything, and Xavier knew they were all waiting to see his reaction. He also knew that if Rob found out how personally involved he was making himself in this case, then he would be yanked off it faster than the speed of light. He forced himself to maintain control. “We wondered why he drugged the Englewoods but no one else,” he said at last, pleased when his voice came out cool and calm. “Maybe it wasn’t because the Englewoods were his first and he was nervous, maybe it was because he wanted to sleep with Annabelle.”

  “Maybe.” Rob looked relieved that he was holding it together. “Okay, let’s look at our suspects, try to decide on a direction to move in.”

  “Well number one, we have Lachlan Thompson,” Kate began. “Motive would be to get rid of his son-in-law and grandchildren so there would be nothing stopping his daughter from coming back home to care for him. If it was Lachlan, that might explain why only Annabelle was raped,” she faltered a little and shot him another worried glance. “He didn’t rape his daughter or granddaughter, and perhaps he didn’t realize Lorraine Rankling was disabled until he saw her.”

  “Although we do believe that Lachlan sexually and possibly physically abused his daughter throughout her childhood,” Xavier inserted, recalling the look in Nicole Jenner’s eyes when they’d asked her if her father had hurt her.

  “Okay, so we have a possible motive but no evidence,” Rob’s eyebrows waggled as he spoke.

  “No one heard him make any direct threats to his daughter’s family. But he does drive a red car, and Ricky Preston said he saw one parked out in front of his house in the days leading up to the Englewood murders,” Xavier added. “Plus, Kate found out that John Englewood did some electrical work at the bar where Lachlan likes to hang out.”

  “And then we have Dr. Bruce Daniels,” Kate continued. “He’s been a doctor involved in Lorraine Rankling’s case since the beginning. Dr. Pedding said that someone has been abusing Lorraine, and apparently Dr. Daniels is regularly alone with the woman, which would give him the opportunity to do that. Plus, both the Englewood and Jenner families recently visited the emergency room while Dr. Daniels was working. Since he has a history of making patients sicker so he can swoop in and save them, it’s not so big of a jump to believe that he might have branched out and started creating his own problems where he can be the hero to traumatized women.”

  “We also just found out that four months ago, Dr. Daniels got dumped by his fiancée of two years,” he informed everyone. “After the accusations that he was poisoning little kids and he was sent to counseling, he fell for his therapist. She asked for him to be transferred to a colleague so she and Dr. Daniels could start dating. They dated for a while, then Dr. Daniels proposed. It seems she dumped him about a week before the wedding, announced it while he was at work, told him that she had been cheating on him throughout their entire relationship and was pregnant with her lover’s baby.”

  “So, Lachlan Thompson just found out he’s dying and Bruce Daniels just got dumped, both traumatic occurrences that could have pushed them into taking drastic measures to get what they wanted,” Rob mused.

  “I think we should add Ricky Preston to the list of suspects,” Xavier announced.

  “Xavier, just because you think…” Kate shot him a warning glare.

  “No it’s not because I’m jealous of him,” he denied adamantly, catching the tightening in his boss’ jaw. “Just listen to me for a moment,” he urged them, and when no one objected, he plowed on. “The night the Ranklings were murdered, Annabelle wanted to go and stay with him, she went to his house, knocked on the door, called out but she couldn’t get any answer from him.” He deliberately left out his own attempt to contact the man.

  “Maybe he’s a heavy sleeper,” Rob suggested dryly.

  “Annabelle said he’s not.”

  “Or he could have been out walking,” Kate put in. “He told us he’s been having trouble sleeping.”

  “He offered to let Annabelle stay with him, and she tried calling him but never got an answer, why would he then ignore her when he said he’d be there for her?” Xavier couldn’t give up on this; Ricky Preston creeped him out.

  “There could be any number of reasons why he didn’t answer.” Diane looked doubtful.

  “Yes, there could be,” he admitted, “but all I know is that Annabelle hammered on the door, yelled out, there was no noise from a TV or radio, and no response.”

  “Annabelle hammered or you hammered?” The look Rob shot him indicated he already knew that he’d been there that night.

  Xavier forged on. “The way he looks at Annabelle, he’s interested in her.”

  “Annabelle said there’s nothing going on between them,” Kate reminded him overly patiently.

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something one-sided there.” He was positive that Annabelle wasn’t interested in Ricky Preston, she’d told him she never dated. “You saw him, Kate, the way he looked at her, the way he talked about her. Even if Annabelle doesn’t realize it, Ricky likes her.”

  “Kate?” Rob looked to her for her opinion.

  “He does look at her like he likes her,” Kate agreed reluctantly.

  “Maybe that’s why he raped her,” Xavier had to force the words out. “Maybe this was all just a bid to isolate Annabelle and then get her to rely on him, and before she knows it he springs on her that he’s in love with her. The Jenners and Ranklings could just be collateral damage.”

  “Anything else to add to your theory?” Rob didn’t look convinced that Ricky could be involved.

  “He has a broken arm, and yet he drove all around town buying Annabelle clothes and food while she was at the motel.” That was all he could come up with for now. And it didn’t even make any sense.

  “You can drive with a cast on,” Kate contradicted. “Not at first, but when your arm stops hurting.”

  Xavier huffed and narrowed his eyes at his partner. “Ricky Preston is…” He was searching for the right words to articulate what he was feeling. “Look, I don’t know how to say it, but my gut says something’s not right with that guy.”

  “I won’t count him out,” Rob told him seriously, “but I’m also not counting him in. If you can find some connection between him and the Jenners and Ranklings, we’ll talk more. Right now I think Annabelle is the most useful tool we have…”

  “She doesn’t remember anything,” Xavier reminded his boss.

  “She thinks she doesn’t,” Rob contradicted. “He drugged her; she might have seen or heard more than she knows, and she might be subconsciously blocking something out. Take her back to her house and see if it prompts her to remember anything.”

  “She’s already been back; it didn’t go well,” he confessed.

  Rob arched a brown brow. “I know, but this time you’ll go with her.”

  “We also have to tell her what happened to her while she was unconscious,” Diane reminded them.

  All eyes turned to him once more. “I’ll tell her,” Xavier sighed, knowing it would be best coming from him but dreading having to say those words to her.

  “All right, good, w
e have a plan.” Rob looked pleased; he always liked it when they had a concrete plan of attack.

  Filing out of Rob’s office, Xavier hoped that his boss’ plan of attack ran smoothly and produced results.

  * * * * *

  9:21 A.M.

  “I’m not sure I can do this.” Annabelle was squashed up against the passenger door in Xavier’s car.

  “I’m going to be right by your side,” he assured her.

  She was still doubtful, recalling the other night when she’d gone back inside her home, that had been a disaster and she hadn’t even known at the time all the facts about what had happened to her family. “I really don’t think I can go back in there,” she insisted again. Already the closer they got, the more she started to shake uncontrollably.

  “You can do it, Belle,” Xavier told her confidently. “You can do it because we’re going to do it together. I’m not going to leave you.”

  Xavier had said that to her yesterday and he had been true to his word.

  Annabelle had been mad at Xavier right up until the second he had joined her in the shower. When she’d fled the police station despite her anger at Xavier she had headed straight for his house. As a little girl, the shower had been her place of solitude; curled up in the steam, she would cry her little eyes out. And yesterday when she’d been pushed to her limits, she had reverted back to that scared and lonely child.

  When Xavier’s arms had encircled her, she had been too thrilled that she wasn’t alone that she hadn’t had any energy left to stay angry. In fact, she hadn’t had any energy left for anything. She had allowed Xavier to wash her hair, then dry her off and dress her as though she were an infant.

  Even though it terrified her to admit it, Annabelle had enjoyed the feel of his strong arms holding her, his warm body against her, and when he kissed her she hadn’t protested; in fact, she’d kissed him back. He had wanted to take things further, she’d known that, literally been able to feel it, and for one delusional second she had been ready to go along with it, but Xavier had stopped her and this morning she was glad he had.

  At least he hadn’t made the same mistake as last time she spent the night. This morning he had woken her up to tell her he was leaving for work; he’d even cooked breakfast for her and delivered it to her on a tray so she could eat in bed. She hadn’t wanted to stay in bed alone though and had wandered through to the living room, curling up on the couch and staring aimlessly at whatever nonsense was on TV.

  She had still been doing that when Xavier had returned to his house an hour ago. Although he only lived about fifteen minutes from her house it had taken him three quarters of an hour to coax her as far as the car.

  Annabelle didn’t want to ever set foot inside her house again, but Xavier had wheedled and begged. He was eventually able to get her to agree, because she wanted to help stop this man before another family was destroyed. If going back to her house might help that to happen, then—as much as she hated it—she had to do it.

  “I keep telling you I don’t remember that night,” she shuddered as they pulled to a stop outside her house.

  He turned to face her. “Your family was different, Belle, and we don’t know why. But, so far, your family has been the only one that was drugged. That means maybe you did see something and you’re just blocking it out because it’s too much to deal with at the moment.”

  “Why was my family different?” she demanded.

  “Well, we thought it might be because you were first. Maybe he wasn’t too confident about killing so many people at one time and he thought it would be easier if you were all out cold.”

  “So he drugged us,” she repeated. “That’s why at the hospital you were asking about who cooked dinner.” She remembered that conversation well because it happened right before Xavier told her that he thought she was a killer. “That means he was in our house before that night; he had to be to drug the food. Do you think that’s the only reason we were drugged and the others weren’t? Because we were first and he was nervous, that’s why we were different?”

  “I don’t know, Belle.”

  She read something hidden in his tone. “No more secrets, Xavier, please,” she begged. She’d already lost enough control over her life.

  Shifting uncomfortably, Xavier reached for her hands. “I’m afraid I have bad news,” he began solemnly. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Belle…”

  “Just say it,” she steeled herself, not liking the look on Xavier’s face one little bit.

  “We think that he…uh…that he…raped you.” Xavier looked devastated and she remembered that his wife had been raped.

  But Annabelle just felt numb.

  She felt nothing at all.

  Which she thought was odd. She was a virgin; well, she had been. She should feel horrified to learn that she had just lost her virginity to a rapist. And not just a rapist, but also the man who had slaughtered and mutilated her family and framed her for his crimes.

  She was about to ask Xavier what was wrong with her when she realized that she couldn’t see. Everything had gone black.

  “Annabelle.” Xavier’s sharp voice echoed inside her head. “Belle, come on, open your eyes,” he commanded.

  Were her eyes closed? She thought she’d just gone blind.

  “Belle, wake up.” A hand slapped lightly at her cheeks. “Open your eyes.”

  Struggling to comply, she managed to force open her eyes to meet Xavier’s panicked hazel gaze.

  Xavier sighed with relief. “You fainted. Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” she mumbled.

  “I’m going to take you to the hospital. I’m sorry; this was too much.” He turned the engine back on.

  “No, Xavier, I don’t want to go back to the hospital. I’m okay, really, let’s just get this over with.” She threw open the door and climbed from the car, stalking determinedly across the yard toward her front door.

  “Annabelle.” Xavier caught up to her, grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. “I think we need to talk about this.”

  “I don’t want to.” She couldn’t deal with that right now, but she could ignore it.

  “Belle…”

  “I mean it. I can’t do that now.”

  He examined her carefully. “Do you have a key that you keep hidden somewhere in case someone gets locked out?”

  Confused, she asked, “What?”

  “Your house wasn’t broken into,” he continued, “do you keep a key someplace where someone might find it.”

  Catching on to what he was trying to do, she let him distract her. “Yeah, we have one under my mom’s bird feeder.” She paused at the bird feeder on the way to the door. “Do you think that’s how he got in without having to break in?”

  “Maybe.” Xavier held out a bag for her to drop the key into. “We’ll check it out. Does anyone know you keep it here?”

  “I'm not sure.”

  Slipping his hand around hers, he began to tug her along behind him. His hand tightened around hers as he drew her through the front door. “I want you to walk me through everything you did that night.”

  “You really think I might have seen something?”

  “I don’t know, Belle, but so far we don’t have a lot else to go on.” He stooped to kiss her forehead before straightening. “Okay, I want you to start from the very beginning, from when you first got home.”

  She pushed her mind back to that afternoon. “Katherine and I came home about four o’clock and I sent her to her room to change her clothes. While she was changing, I put on a load of laundry.” Once she began, everything started to come back. “Katherine came back down about ten minutes later and we made the cookies. Katherine had been bugging me for days to make some with her…” She trailed off as she thought of her little sister’s begging. Katherine had just lost her two front teeth and the effect added to her cuteness, making it almost impossible to say no to her.

  “What happened next?” Xavier asked gently, taking her h
and again and squeezing it supportively.

  She brushed at her eyes. “By the time the cookies were done, everyone was home. I put the washing in the dryer and started on dinner while Katherine did her homework. Then we ate together, but after dinner we all got kind of tired.” Her brow furrowed in concentration. “I forgot about that. I guess it was the drugs; we thought we were coming down with the flu or something. I don’t know what the others did, but I sent Katherine straight to bed. I could hardly keep my eyes open, so I followed her. I don’t know what happened after that. I'm sorry.”

  “Okay,” Xavier said softly, “I'm going to take you to your room. Can you handle that?”

  Giving a shaky nod, she answered, “If you stay with me.”

  “I'm not going anywhere,” he promised, slipping an arm around her waist as he guided her up the stairs.

  Her steps slowed as they got closer to her bedroom, but she plodded determinedly on.

  “Hanging in there?” Xavier asked at the door.

  “Uh huh,” she said, before she took a step inside.

  “All right, I want you to close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Xavier’s voice was soft, almost hypnotically quiet. “You got into bed, you were tired, not feeling well, did you open a window?”

  Surprised, she’d forgotten about that. “Yeah, I did. How did you know? Oh, that’s right; you were here. This is never going to work, Xavier. After going to bed, I don’t remember anything until I woke up with you hovering over me.”

  “Give it a try.” He sat her down in her rocking chair. “So you opened the window and got into bed. Did you think about or worry about anything before you fell asleep?”

  “I did worry about something. One of the kids in my class, his parents just split up and he’s been acting out and I've been trying everything I could think of to get him to open up to me. And then after that, someone was standing beside me, but I don’t think it was you.” Her eyes popped open and grew wide. “I remember someone being in here with me.”

  “Do you remember what he looked like?”