by Jane Blythe
“Is Julia in a psychiatric hospital?”
“No, she’s in jail.”
“But she wasn’t in her right mind when she did those things, right?” Annabelle looked perplexed. “I mean, she’d been raped and then she thought she was pregnant with her attacker’s baby, then she lost her baby…”
“Xavier tried to get Julia to plead out and go to a hospital, but she wouldn’t do it,” Kate explained, remembering just how hard Xavier had fought for Julia.
“Are they divorced?”
“Yes.”
“Does Xavier still love his ex-wife?”
Wanting to tell Annabelle what she wanted to hear but knowing how devastated Xavier had been when Julia had served him with divorce papers, Kate struggled to respond. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
“Well, I know that he doesn’t really feel anything for me; he was just using me, trying to make up for what he thinks were his failures with Julia.”
“That’s not true,” Kate countered firmly. “Do you know how many times I’ve tried to set Xavier up with someone? How many times he refused to go on the dates, or went on them and deliberately acted like an idiot so they wouldn’t call him back? Even when we thought you were a killer, Xavier couldn’t help but think about you.”
“Really?” A tiny ray of hope lit Annabelle’s white eyes.
“Really. Xavier doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but he does believe that you can instantly form a connection with someone, and then get to know them and fall in love. Xavier feels a connection to you and he wants to get to know you; he really likes you, Annabelle. I haven’t seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. He’s interested. The real question is, are you?”
Annabelle hesitated, battling indecision, her eyes clearly said yes she was, but presumably her brain was telling her otherwise.
“Xavier said you told him that you don’t ever date. May I ask why?”
Annabelle met Kate’s gaze directly for the first time. “Because I’m scared,” Annabelle replied.
“Scared of what?”
“Scared that no one could ever love me,” Annabelle answered awkwardly.
“Why would you think no one could ever love you?”
“What is there to love about me?” Annabelle began to drum her fingers on her knee. “I don’t think anyone could ever be interested in me, so rather than get my feelings hurt, I just avoid relationships.”
“I would tell you that that is absurd,” Kate couldn’t help but smile. “That you’re beautiful and that you seem to be a thoughtful, caring, loving, sweet young woman, but I don’t think it’ll do any good. You’ll realize it yourself in time. Just don’t give up on Xavier. He’s mad now because he feels exposed and vulnerable, but he’ll get over it, and maybe once we find this killer both you and Xavier will finally find what you’ve been looking for.”
Kate was halfway to the door when Annabelle stopped her, “Detective Hannah?”
“It’s Kate, and yes?”
“Are you sure that Xavier is interested in me?”
“Positive.”
She seemed to be mulling it over. “Okay, thanks.”
Kate paused at the door. “Can I tell you a secret?” she turned back to face Annabelle.
“Of course,” the young woman peered back seriously.
“I'm pregnant.” Finally uttering those words to anyone other than her husband felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
MAY 11th
8:59 A.M.
“We now have a warrant for Dr. Bruce Daniels’ fingerprints and DNA,” Rob announced.
Xavier sighed with relief. “Good. What about one for Lachlan Thompson?”
“Not yet.” Rob shook his head. “We can’t find any connections between him and either the Rankling or Littleton families.”
“At least we’ll be able to either positively identify or exclude the doctor once we get his fingerprints.” Kate couldn’t wipe the grin off her face.
“We certainly have plenty to compare it to,” Diane spoke up. “We collected nice clear prints from the phones at all three of the houses where he called it in himself. Plus, we have the DNA from Annabelle’s sheets.” She shot him another apprehensive glance.
Dismissing it, Xavier wasn’t going to think about Annabelle until he’d had a chance to sort out his feelings. Otherwise he was only going to continue to drive himself crazy and probably make things worse than they already were between him and Annabelle. “What’d you get from the Littleton house?” he asked, directing the question to Diane.
“Looks like he woke Kerralyn first, then used her as leverage to keep the others under control. We found fingerprints belonging to Kaitlin on the tape, so he probably forced her to tie up her family. One piece of tape had Kerralyn’s fingerprints on it so once he had the parents under control he was willing to release her to get her to finish off the job.”
“He use any tape on Kerralyn?” Kate asked.
“No, no marks on her whatsoever. Well, not from the tape,” Diane stammered, no doubt picturing the bodies of the Littleton family covered in stab wounds. “Probably killed her first, then the parents, then Kaitlin.”
“So it was obviously important to him this time to see his victims suffer first,” Kate mused. “Whereas the previous times he’s killed them while they were asleep.”
“Except the Ranklings,” he reminded her. “If he expected Rawlin to be asleep when he got there, then found him in the kitchen and had to kill him while he was fully aware of what was about to happen, maybe he liked that, decided it added more fun and excitement, and decided to deviate from his original script.”
“It feels like he didn’t expect to like killing as much as he is,” Rob proposed.
“That could make sense if it was either Dr. Daniels or Lachlan Thompson; neither have ever committed murder, at least that we know of. And if the allegations of the doctor poisoning those kids were true, he didn’t intend for them to die; he simply wanted attention,” Kate agreed. “Maybe he didn’t realize what a rush it would give him until he started.”
“It doesn’t seem to bother him that he’s leaving evidence behind; it’s like he doesn’t care if we figure out who he is.”
“So long as he can finish what he’s started,” Kate added. “Leaving behind so much physical evidence is a big risk to take. If we find out who he is too early, then it disrupts his plans; he might be caught before he’s finished.”
“It would be great to know how many other families he has on his list…”
“I think I can answer that question,” Billy Newton slunk into the room.
“You get something in the autopsies?” Rob demanded.
“Yes,” Billy squirmed in his chair.
“Well,” Rob prompted irritably.
“Well, first off, I thought you'd all like to know that the stab wounds were inflicted post-mortem. I think he just did it to drain as much blood out of the bodies as he possibly could manage so that he could do his, uh…” trying to come up with an appropriate word, “…painting.”
“That’s good news, but it doesn’t tell us how many other families he has in mind to slaughter,” Rob snapped. The lieutenant was not in a good mood today.
“He left us a message.” Billy’s eyes were darting around the room, not resting on any one place for more than a second.
“On the bodies?” Kate asked.
“In the bodies,” Billy corrected.
“In the bodies? What does that mean?” Xavier asked, positive that whatever it meant it wouldn’t be good.
“While I was doing the autopsy on Kitty Littleton I was checking for signs of sexual assault, since we knew Annabelle had been…” Billy trailed off uncomfortably, refusing to even glance in his direction. “And I found a piece of paper inserted in her vagina.”
“A piece of paper?” Diane’s face had drained of all color.
“What was on it?” Kate asked, her face only slightly less pale than Diane’s.
>
“It.”
“It what?” Rob frowned.
“It, as in the word,” Billy elaborated. “Since that didn’t make a lot of sense, I checked the girls, and he’d done the same to both Kaitlin and Kerralyn.”
“What did the other notes say?” Xavier asked.
“Kaitlin’s said ‘is’ and Kerralyn’s said ‘finished.’ ‘It is finished.’ That’s his message. I think he’s telling us he’s done, that the Littletons were the last family on his list, that whatever he had in mind, he’s achieved it.”
Xavier was surprised. “You think he’s done?” he asked.
“That’s what his message said,” Billy shrugged. “I brought them for you.” He set out the three evidence bags.
“I’ll check them for fingerprints,” Diane said immediately. “I'm guessing we’ll find some.”
“You really think he’s done?” Kate looked like she hardly dared to hope it might be true.
“He says he is,” Billy repeated.
Rob’s phone began to trill. He answered it and moved to a corner of the room.
“If we can just match Dr. Daniels’ prints to the ones we have, then all of this really will be finished.” Xavier couldn’t help but think that would help things with Annabelle.
“Don’t speak too soon,” Rob hung up the phone with a thud.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Bruce Daniels is MIA.”
“Since when?” Kate asked.
“Since this morning,” Rob rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “Called the hospital this morning to say he wasn’t feeling well and was taking the day off, but when the officers went to pick him up at his house, he wasn’t there.”
“Was he at work yesterday?” he queried.
“No, it’s his day off,” Rob replied.
“So he could have taken off immediately after the Littleton murders. If he’s finished what he started, then…”
“He’s on the run,” Kate finished.
“We might never find him,” Xavier added. “He could be anywhere by now. He could have fled the country.”
“Or he could still be nearby,” Rob reminded them. “He’s already made a second attempt on Annabelle Englewood; maybe he’s sticking around to finish the job and take out the others.”
Xavier’s stomach churned at the prospect of the killer making another attempt on Annabelle’s life. “I think he’s still here,” Xavier agreed. “You’re right, Rob. I don’t think he’d leave, he wants to see how this plays out, he wants to see if we can figure out it’s him.”
“All right, let’s focus on finding Dr. Daniels,” Rob dismissed them. “But until we get him, let’s keep searching for any connections between Lachlan Thompson and the other families; we don’t want to count our chickens before they’re hatched.”
Once he was seated at his desk, Xavier reached for the phone. Before he could do anything productive, there was a call he needed to make.
* * * * *
9:32 A.M.
Annabelle hadn't slept a wink all night.
Partly because the motel mattress was incredibly uncomfortable, partly because she was too scared of the images that would fill her dreams, and partly because she kept waiting for Xavier’s call.
A call that never came.
He must be angrier with her than she had anticipated.
She hadn't meant to pry. Well, she had, but not in a bad way. She’d just wanted to understand why he might be interested in her. And she had. At least, she’d thought she had, but then her talk with Xavier’s partner, Kate, had left her more confused than ever.
Annabelle wanted desperately to believe what Kate had said, that Xavier was honestly interested in her, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t see what Xavier might see in her, and Kate’s pep talk hadn't really inspired her, though it had made her wonder. Annabelle had never thought of herself as beautiful, nor any of the other things on Kate’s list, but it made her feel kind of special to think maybe Xavier had seen something in her that she herself hadn't.
Still, it didn’t matter now.
She had ruined things by meddling, and Xavier was still in love with his ex-wife.
Last night it had felt weird to not have Xavier’s comforting presence in the bed beside her. She had only spent three nights with him and already she was accustomed to him being there.
And she hadn't given up hope that Xavier would call.
Kate had said not to give up on Xavier, and she was clinging to that with every fiber of hope she possessed.
However, Annabelle was determined not to be an idiot about it. She’d wait for Xavier, but she wouldn’t wait forever. If she didn’t hear from him soon, then she was going to pack up her few belongings and head out of town. Where she would go she wasn’t exactly sure yet, but she knew that she couldn’t face returning to her job, and she knew she couldn’t rebuild her fire ravaged house and live in it after all that had happened there.
And the fire was another thing. The man who had killed her family and yet decided to let her live, had obviously changed his mind. Now he wanted her dead, and she wasn’t about to sit around and let him come and take another shot at her.
Following her argument with Xavier yesterday, Kate hadn't wanted her to leave the station without police protection, but the idea that someone would be watching her every move gave her the creeps and she had refused. Annabelle had debated going back to Xavier’s and asking if she could sleep in his spare room again, but had been too timid to face him. Next, she had debated once again taking Ricky up on his offer and staying with him for a couple of days, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to do that either. So she’d returned to her motel room.
She’d been sure that Xavier would have been so worried about her that he’d come looking for her as soon as he’d calmed down a little. But the hours had ticked by and she’d sat here alone in this small, dingy room.
In the beginning she’d tried to convince herself that Xavier was, in fact, looking for her, but just didn’t know where she was. That delusion hadn't lasted long. Twice already he had known where she would go when she was upset. That night he’d found her at her house, then again after he realized she’d seen what had been done to her parents and siblings, he had somehow known that she would seek solace at his house.
Xavier knew where she was.
He just didn’t care.
Rolling out of bed, Annabelle considered walking to the café down the block and getting something for breakfast. Even though the thought of eating made her stomach churn, she thought she better eat since she needed to keep her strength up. Collecting the money Ricky had lent her, she shoved it into her jeans pocket and headed out the door.
As she walked down the block, she tried to catch hold of a thought that kept bumbling around inside her head. Something had been niggling at her brain since the fire. Something important. Something she ought to remember, because she was pretty sure—whatever it was—if she could only recall it, then she’d be able to identify the killer.
She paused at the café door, the hairs on the back of her neck were crawling and the feeling that someone was watching her was overwhelming. As subtly as she could, she turned around, surveying the street, the shops, the cars, the people, but nothing stood out.
Unable to shake the feeling, she hurried into the café, feeling safer in the throng of people. As she stood in line, Annabelle convinced herself that it was probably just a cop that Xavier had organized to keep an eye on her.
Maybe he did care after all.
* * * * *
7:31 P.M.
He hated to admit that he was nervous.
Xavier knew he shouldn’t have left it so long before seeing her again.
He should have come back sooner and he hoped she wasn’t too mad that he hadn't.
It had been a rough couple of days. Having his disaster of a marriage to Julia dredged back up, confronting the guilt that he tried on a daily basis to bury away in the back of his brain.
Ann
abelle and Kate asking him if he still loved Julia had floored him. He honestly wasn’t sure what the answer to that question was. He had loved Julia, loved her deeply, despite the distance that had grown progressively deeper between them shortly following their wedding.
Throughout the trial, Julia had worked hard at pushing him away, bit by bit attempting to edge him out of her life. Then shortly after being found guilty and being sent to jail, she had him served with divorce papers. Xavier hadn't wanted to sign them; he’d wanted to fight for his wife and his marriage. He’d continued to try and convince Julia that she had been mentally unstable, suffering from post-traumatic stress and grieving the loss of a child at the time she had committed murder.
But throughout it all, Julia had remained adamant that it was over between them, so over time he’d been forced to accept it. Only Julia’s decision had meant that he’d never addressed his feelings. And now he wasn’t sure what they were.
He honestly and genuinely liked Annabelle, but if he was going to do something about that, then he had to be sure whether or not he was still in love with his ex-wife.
Which was exactly what he was here to find out.
“Hello, Xavier.”
The voice that spoke was so familiar and yet at the same time belonged to that of a stranger.
“Rough day?”
“You could say that,” he agreed, taking in the sight of her, of how much she had changed since he’d last seen her. “We need to talk.”
“Yes, I assumed that was why you’d gone to the trouble of coming here. You met someone.” Julia held him in a steady blue gaze.
“Let’s sit,” he suggested, his stomach as full of butterflies as it had been the first time he’d asked her out.