Page 23 of Beneath the Surface

He pocketed his phone, then turned back to the room where Larson was watching him with a raised eyebrow. “Everything okay with Mom?” Larson asked, though his tone suggested he knew better.

“Yeah.” Brad forced a quick smile before it faded. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Listen, I’m taking Isobel home. She’s done enough for today.”

Larson’s expression shifted to one of understanding, his usual sarcasm absent for once. “Yeah, I figured. She’s been through a lot.”

“I’ll call you later,” Brad added. “But for now, she needs to get out of here.”

Larson gave a small nod. “I’ll finish things here.”

Brad walked back into the hallway where Isobel was waiting, her eyes still wide and haunted from the scene. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Let’s get you home.”

She looked up at him, her gaze a mix of exhaustion and gratitude.

Nine

Brad guided Isobel to his car, his hand resting gently on her back as they walked in silence. She looked drained, her steps slower, like the crime scene had settled into her bones. As they approached the car, she hesitated, her eyes glancing back toward the building.

"I can drive myself, Brad," she said. “I drove my car here earlier…”

He shook his head, opening the passenger door for her. “Not tonight, Belle. You’re in no shape to drive.”

“I’ll be fine,” she protested weakly, though the weariness in her voice betrayed her. “I just want to get home.”

“And I’m taking you there,” Brad insisted, his voice deep. “We’ll pick up your car tomorrow. For now, you need to rest.”

Isobel blinked, her hands fidgeting as she glanced at the car again. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

Brad cut her off, his tone softer but leaving no room for argument. “You’re not a burden. But you need to take care of yourself right now. You haven’t eaten, and you definitely need to sleep.”

Isobel's shoulders slumped. “I’m not hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate?” Brad pressed, closing the passenger door and walking around to the driver’s side. As he slid in and started the car, he glanced over at her. “You need to eat something, even if it’s just a little. We’ll grab a quick bite and head home.”

She sighed, staring out the window, but didn’t argue. Brad took that as a victory, even if only a small one.

The drive was quiet, the tension from earlier slowly ebbing away but still lingering in the background. Brad knew Isobel was in distress, still trying to process everything that had happened today. He was sure the memories from four years ago had come rushing back. He also knew pushing her too much right now would only make things worse. But he needed to know how Kathy knew about the death.

After a few minutes, Brad pulled into a family-style restaurant on the edge of town. The lights were bright, and the smell of food wafted through the air as soon as they opened the door. He ordered for both of them, a couple of burgers and some coffee for him and tea for her.

They sat in a booth, and Brad placed the sandwich in front of her. “Just try to eat,” he encouraged, watching as she picked at the bun absently.

Isobel took a small bite, her hands trembling slightly as she lifted the hamburger to her mouth. It was obvious her mind was far away, he assumed trapped in memories of the past crime scene and what they had uncovered today. He took a bite of his own sandwich, keeping an eye on her but not forcing the conversation.

After a few bites, she put the sandwich down and leaned back in the booth, rubbing her eyes. “I just don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Why, if it’s the same killer, why would they repeat the crime?”

Brad leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “We’re going to figure it out, Isobel. You helped today, more than you realize.”

“I don’t feel like I helped,” she muttered, her voice small. “I feel like I’m just... falling apart. My brain is failing to put things together.”

“You’re stronger than you think,” Brad answered her immediately. “You made it through today, and you’ll make it through tomorrow. One step at a time.” He encouraged her to eat another small bite.

Isobel nodded, though her expression remained weary. When it was clear she wasn’t going to eat any more, Brad stood up, gesturing toward the door. “Let’s get you home.”

The ride to her condo was just as quiet, the streets mostly empty under the night sky. When they finally pulled up, Brad parked and got out, walking around to help Isobel out of the car.

“I can make it from here,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

“I’m walking you up,” Brad replied, leaving no room for debate.

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