Three (Count to Ten Book 3)

by Jane Blythe

  “Alibis checked out for the sons,” Ryan began. “Peter and James Hitacheel were at their homes, in bed with their respective wives, when their father was murdered. No real motives either. James doesn’t like his father but no real animosity that would lead him to kill him. Peter is plenty full of anger toward Roman, but I can't see him being controlled enough to kill in such a methodical manner.”

  “Any chance they may have paid someone to do it?” Belinda asked.

  He shook his head. “I can't see a hit man killing someone in such an unusual way. We’ll go through their financials just in case, but I doubt we’ll come up with anything.”

  “What about the daughter?”

  He exchanged a glance with Paige. “Peter claimed that his father would sleep with any woman, including his own daughter.”

  Dark eyes grew wide in surprise. “Cindy Hitacheel was sexually abused as a child?”

  “She says no,” Ryan replied. “But she was kind of out of it when we talked to her. She became hysterical when we talked with her and her brothers and mother. James took her and gave her a tranquilizer. When we went back later to ask her about Peter’s claims, she was still doped up.”

  “She was adamant though,” Paige piped up. “Said her father never laid an inappropriate hand on her and was angry that Peter would suggest such a thing. She said her brothers were jealous because she was closer with their father than they were. Said Roman preferred daughters and couldn’t connect with his sons.”

  Belinda raised a suspicious brow. “So we don’t know for sure that Roman didn’t abuse her?”

  “I guess not,” Ryan confirmed. “Although Eve also said that Roman never touched Cindy.”

  “Either way, Cindy’s alibi checked out, too. She was home with her husband and their newborn son,” Paige explained.

  “So the kids are out. At least for now,” Belinda added. “What about the wife and the girlfriend?”

  “Well, Mango has an alibi,” Ryan replied. “Apparently, she has a boyfriend.”

  “She has two boyfriends?” Belinda again looked shocked. “Roman Hitacheel and another guy?”

  “Yep,” Ryan nodded. “The other guy, Calvin Reed, is her age. Apparently, they’ve known each other since high school; they’d wanted to marry but they’re young and broke. When Mango met Roman and he became smitten with her, she and Calvin looked at it as a win-win situation. Mango gets a fancy apartment, a generous living allowance, extra money for clothes and accessories, and all she has to do is keep up her looks and be available for sex whenever Roman wants.”

  “The boyfriend thought that was a win-win?” Belinda looked doubtful. She’d never been married, and her job took up most of her time, but she had lots of hobbies to keep from burning herself out.

  He shrugged. “Seemingly so. When we spoke with him, he said he wasn’t pleased with Mango having to sleep with Roman, but they both knew Roman would tire of her once she aged a little more, and then they thought they’d be financially set for life. To be honest, he seemed less upset about the fact that his girlfriend was prostituting herself, than their having to keep their relationship a secret.”

  “So Mango was with Calvin Reed when Roman was murdered?” Belinda asked.

  “Yes, they were hanging out at his apartment,” Paige nodded.

  “Maybe they killed Roman together?”

  She shook her head. “No, they ordered takeout that placed them there during the time of the murder.”

  “That just leaves the widow? She have an alibi, too?” Belinda queried.

  “Nope, she’s the only one without one,” Paige answered.

  “Do we like her as the killer?”

  “She’s a plausible candidate,” Ryan confirmed. “She was home alone at the time Roman was killed. She knew about her husband’s affairs and has for years. And she was too calm when Paige and I interviewed her and her kids.”

  “Maybe she was in shock,” Belinda suggested.

  “She didn’t seem too shaken up by her husband’s death,” Paige contradicted.

  “So far we haven’t come up with any enemies or people with a grudge against Roman. Right now, we’re going with either the wife killing him for revenge, or a stranger,” Ryan told their boss. “But it looks like he was lured there so it seems less likely that it was a stranger. Maybe Roman had another girlfriend—or even a boyfriend—that we don’t know about it. Paige and I will keep interviewing friends, maybe someone knew something.”

  “We think someone stole Mango LeSeur’s cell phone for a couple of hours on the afternoon before Roman was killed,” Paige explained. “Seems she lost it at a café, but since there was a call to Roman’s phone during the time it was missing, it seems likely that someone stole it to call Roman and set up a meeting, then returned the phone to café staff. Eve and Peter Hitacheel both knew Mango’s name, so it’s plausible that one of them set him up.”

  “What we need are some forensics,” Belinda announced. “Steph?”

  “We’re working on the hotel security footage, but right now we don’t have anything more than we did before. A tall brunette. That could be Mrs. Hitacheel, or it could be any number of women,” Stephanie replied. “We’re running all the fingerprints; hopefully, that will be helpful.”

  “Ask Eve Hitacheel to provide you with a set; if she agrees, it could help count her out as a suspect,” Belinda told them. “Anything else, Stephanie?”

  “Not yet,” the CSU tech shook her head.

  “Frankie?” Belinda turned her attention to the ME.

  “I did blood tests and found faint traces of sodium thiopental in his system,” Frankie replied.

  Belinda waved her hand at Frankie in a ‘please explain’ gesture.

  “Sodium thiopental is a rapid-onset, short-acting, barbiturate general anesthetic. It causes unconsciousness usually within 30-45 seconds, and you would usually start to wake up within five to ten minutes,” Frankie summarized. “Seems perfect for what your killer wanted. Got Roman Hitacheel distracted in bed, injected him, he would have passed out quickly, and given them enough time to get him secured without having to wait long for him to wake up. Assuming they wanted him awake before he or she drained his blood and then drowned him in it.”

  “Supports the theory that it was someone who knew him,” Ryan thought aloud. “Whoever killed him wanted him to know what was going to happen and why they were doing it.”

  “Where would you find this sodium thiopental?” Belinda asked.

  “It’s used in general anesthesia in hospitals and veterinary clinics, although it’s largely been replaced with propofol these days,” Frankie replied. “Plus, you can find most things online. So, your killer might have stolen it from a hospital or a vet clinic or ordered it over the internet. Who knows, maybe he made it himself.”

  “The fact that the killer had the tools to draw blood might suggest that they stole it from somewhere. Or maybe they work in a hospital or at a vet.” Ryan sighed, “Or maybe they ordered the whole lot online.”

  “We’re interviewing the hotel employees today that were working that night,” Paige announced. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and someone will be able to ID the woman from the video.”

  “Then we’ll talk to more of Roman’s friends and colleagues and see if anyone knows of another girlfriend or any enemies,” Ryan added.

  “All right then people, let’s get moving and wrap this case up ASAP.” Belinda shooed them all from the room.

  * * * * *

  10:31 A.M.

  She stood silently at the window looking in.

  Isabella watched the woman inside.

  Her sister, Sofia, moved slowly around the kitchen, favoring one leg. Isabella had kept tabs on her sister’s slow recovery. She’d been there the night Sofia fell. It had been at their old house. Sofia had been afraid of her. It had broken Isabella’s heart to think that she scared her own sister. She had wanted Sofia to know that everything she had done was done for them.

  Perhaps she had be
en a little naïve at the time.

  Sofia had been through a lot. And then on top of that, Isabella had sprung some enormous surprises on her.

  Of course, Sofia had been in shock.

  When she’d seen Isabella walking toward her, she had panicked, stepped back, and tumbled down a flight of stairs.

  Isabella blamed herself. So, she had been making sure to keep tabs on how her sister was doing. Not that that had been easy. Isabella was a wanted criminal. Wanted for multiple counts of murder. Plus, kidnapping and assault. And Sofia lived with a cop.

  But Isabella couldn’t just let her sister go.

  And so she made regular trips to Sofia and Ryan’s house, always when Ryan wasn’t home, so she could stand in the shadows and watch through the windows to make sure her sister was okay.

  What she wanted was to go running indoors, throw her arms around Sofia, and let her sister make everything bad in the world fade away. Sofia had helped her so many times before. Her sister’s sparkling silvery gray eyes and warm smile were such a contrast to the rest of their family that Sofia was the only one that Isabella felt connected to.

  Unfortunately, there was nothing her sister could do to make all Isabella’s problems go away. Still Isabella would love nothing more than to just lie in her sister’s arms and know that someone loved her.

  However, her sister was so vulnerable right now. Isabella didn’t know how Sofia would react if she saw her again. For the moment, this had to be the extent of their relationship. But maybe one day things could be different. Maybe one day they could go back to the way they had been before. Maybe. But Isabella wasn’t pinning all her hopes on that ever happening.

  As Sofia limped from the kitchen, Isabella debated moving to another window to keep watching, but decided against it.

  As much as she loved being close to her sister, she had other pressing matters she had to take care of.

  Slipping quietly from the yard, she walked down the block then climbed into her car. She had another kill coming up. Soon. Maybe within the next day or so.

  Killing was all that was sustaining her now. It was the sole purpose for her being.

  But how long could that last?

  The police could catch her and lock her up, then what would she do? She didn’t think Sofia would visit her in prison. And she wouldn’t be able to keep killing in jail.

  Even if the police never caught her, could she keep killing forever?

  She honestly wasn’t sure.

  Right now, it gave her a reason to get up each morning, but maybe that would change in time.

  Isabella hated that there were so many maybes in her life these days.

  What she wanted was what Sofia had found.

  She wanted someone to love her. She wanted someone who looked at her the way Ryan looked at Sofia. She wanted someone who thought she was the most precious thing on the planet and who would do anything for her. Ryan had walked inside a burning building to save Sofia, but there was no one who would do that for her.

  Life just wasn’t fair.

  Although if she were being truly fair, then as bad as her life might be right now, it couldn’t top Arthur Bentley's. The thirty-year-old had no idea that his life would be over in just a day or so. He had no idea that his cheating ways were going to come back to haunt him.

  It was the way the world worked, though.

  There were always consequences for your actions.

  Sometimes the consequences were good and sometimes they weren’t.

  But no matter which, there were always consequences.

  And soon it would be time for Arthur Bentley to face his.

  As she headed for his workplace, Isabella wondered when it would be time for her to face the consequences of her own actions. And just what those consequences would be.

  * * * * *

  11:21 A.M.

  “Mr. Landers?” Xavier opened the car door and leaned inside.

  Garton Landers turned dead, empty, green eyes in his direction.

  “Are you sure you should be here?” He had been searching for Garton for the last couple of hours. The man had already left the hospital by the time Xavier arrived to interview him. Supposedly he had gone to his parents’ house, but when Xavier got there, his parents informed him that Garton had been restless and said he needed to go out. Instinct convinced him that the man was back at the house where his wife had been killed. When Annabelle had been abducted, Xavier had wanted to feel close to her and gone to the one place that he felt most connected to her. It had made sense to him that Garton would do the same thing. Luckily, he was correct. However, sitting in his car outside his marital home was probably not the best place for Garton to be, psychologically speaking.

  Garton offered a disinterested shrug and returned his gaze to the house.

  “I'm Detective Montague. How about we go somewhere else to talk?” Xavier suggested.

  “No.” Garton spoke for the first time, his voice surprisingly strong. “I need to be here.”

  Xavier didn’t necessarily agree that this was the best place for the grieving husband right now, but he didn’t protest. “May I sit?” he asked instead.

  Garton nodded.

  Xavier slid into the passenger seat and closed the door. The car was ice cold and he couldn’t help but shiver; Garton didn’t seem to notice the cold. “I know the timing sucks,” Xavier began sympathetically, “but we really need to talk while things are still fresh so we can find the person who killed your wife.”

  Garton didn’t acknowledge him, but his hands, clutched tightly on the steering wheel, began to tremble.

  “When did you meet Erica?” Xavier asked, deciding it would be best to start with something easy and then ease into the hard stuff.

  “Middle school,” Garton answered softly.

  Xavier was surprised. “You two were a couple since middle school?”

  Giving a slight shake of his head. “We dated in seventh grade, then broke up. We went to the same high school but we weren’t friends. Then I bumped into her in a café one day after we’d both graduated from college. I spilled coffee all over her. I was so embarrassed, but she just laughed it off.” A small smile turned his lips up as he drifted off into his recollection. “We started dating again, and I proposed a couple of months later. Our families wanted a huge wedding, so we were going to have a long engagement while Erica planned everything. But one day we both realized that we didn’t want the big wedding our parents did, so we eloped. Our families were so angry with us, even though we promised to do another ceremony with all of them present. We’ve only been married a month. One month. And now she’s gone,” Garton broke off with a sob.

  Xavier counted his lucky stars that he had been spared what Garton was currently going through. He had found Annabelle in time, although she’d been barely clinging to life. His heart still thumped painfully in his chest whenever he thought about it. “I'm sorry,” he said softly, the words feeling completely inadequate to put even a dent in the man’s pain.

  Pressing his hands to his eyes, Garton drew in several deep breaths, then raked his fingers down his face. “I want whoever killed Erica to pay.” His face went fierce, his eyes dark. “What do you need to know?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you did last night, and I’ll ask you any questions I need to as we go,” Xavier suggested.

  Steeling himself, Garton fixed his gaze on the house and began. “It had been a month since the wedding. We wanted to celebrate. We went out to a restaurant for dinner. Then we stopped at the park where I proposed on our way home. We used to play at the park when we were kids.” His forlorn eyes met Xavier’s for a moment before returning to stare once more at the house.

  “What time did you get home?” Xavier asked.

  “Around eleven,” Garton replied.

  “Did you notice anything off when you arrived home?” Xavier asked. “Were there any signs that someone had broken into the house?”

  Garton thought for a moment, then slowly s
hook his head. “Everything looked the same as usual. Erica had been bugging me,” he hesitated, “to get a security system installed, but I kept putting it off. I was trying to save money for the wedding ceremony our families wanted,” he finished bleakly.

  And that would play on his mind for the rest of his life. Guilt was like that. “Did you put your clothes away in the closet when you got home?” Xavier didn’t want him dwelling on the security system. There was no way Garton could have predicted that all of this would happen.

  “I think so. Why?” Garton’s blond brows furrowed in confusion.

  “It’s possible that’s where he was hiding,” Xavier replied gently.

  “We put our things away; he wasn’t there,” Garton said more emphatically this time.

  “Did you check the rest of the house?” Xavier continued.

  He shook his head slowly. “We went straight to bed.”

  Garton didn’t need to say more. They were newlyweds; Xavier got the picture. “Do you remember hearing anything unusual while you were in bed?”

  Garton shook his head again. “I doubt we would have, though; we were kind of preoccupied. Someone probably could have come stomping through playing a trumpet and we wouldn’t have noticed.”

  “What time did you go to sleep?”

  His cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment, lending a little color to his virtually colorless face. “Maybe around three o’clock.”

  “What's the first thing you remember after falling asleep?”

  The color faded from Garton’s face, and it was back to pure white. “Something sharp in my back. I tried to see what it was, but I couldn’t move, and then my vision started to go black.”

  “What next?” Xavier prompted.

  “I woke up,” he answered tightly. “I was tied to a chair. I tried to get free, but I couldn’t. I tried to scream but there was tape on my mouth.”

  “Was there anyone else in the room with you, besides Erica?”

  He bobbed his head up and down jerkily. “There was a man.”