Page 3 of Beneath the Surface

“I’m Detective John Larson, Waverly County Homicide,” he introduced himself, his voice clipped and cold. It was the kind of voice that made it clear there would be no room for negotiation. “Dr. Everhart, we need to go over every detail you remember from four years ago.”

Brad, ever watchful, immediately stiffened beside her.

She could sense the change in him, and she knew exactly what Larson was thinking.She’s a dumb woman.He had already written her off.

“Detective,” Brad spoke up, “I’ll take her to the station.” He glanced at Isobel, his tone softening slightly. “It’s cold out here, and we can handle this better indoors.”

Detective Larson turned to Brad slowly, like a wolf sizing up an opponent, his sharp features hardening further. His dark eyes narrowed as he looked Brad up and down, his lips curling in slight distaste. “And who are you?” he asked, his tone condescending. “Her boyfriend? I’m sorry, but we can take it from here.”

Brad’s expression didn’t change, but his hand slipped into his back pocket, producing his own leather badge holder. In one smooth motion, he flipped it open, revealing his credentials. “Assistant District Commander Brad Killian, State Highway Patrol.” He was calm, but the underlying tension was unmistakable. “And I’ll be taking Dr. Everhart to the station to answer your questions.”

For a split second, Larson’s mask of icy control slipped, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. He didn’t respond, just stared at Brad for a beat longer than necessary, as if assessing whether to push the issue. Eventually, Larson turned away without a word, striding toward where the divers had placed the first body. His sharp features disappeared into the shadows, but his presence lingered, a dark cloud hanging over her.

The sergeant standing nearby, a shorter man with tired eyes and a weathered face, seemed almost relieved to have Brad take over. He gave a small nod, glancing at Isobel with something like sympathy in his gaze. “Alright. Commander, meet us at the station.”

Brad’s tension softened slightly as the sergeant walked away. He turned to Isobel, his eyes filled with concern as they met hers. “Come on, Belle. We’ll stop and get you something to eat on the way.”

As they walked to his car, Isobel’s heart pounded in her chest. Detective Larson’s icy stare was still burned into her mind, his unreadable gaze a reminder of how quickly things could spiral out of control. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the detective had already made up his mind about her, that no matter what she said, he’d find her incompetent.

Brad opened his passenger door for her, his movements careful and deliberate, as if he knew how close she was to falling apart. She slid into the seat, trying to steady her breathing, but her mind was racing.Two bodies. Two more bodies.Her stomach churned at the thought. She hadn’t known the first pair of victims, hadn’t been near the lake since, but that didn’t matter now. Her name was tied to this, and there was no escaping it.

Brad got into the driver’s seat, glancing at her with a softness in his eyes that made her feel like she could breathe again. “I’m sure they called Molly.” Her sister Molly was the county coroner.“You should call Ruthie,” he said gently. “She needs to know what’s going on.”

Isobel hesitated for a moment, then pulled out her phone with trembling fingers. Ruth, her younger sister, had always been the strong one, the one who knew how to handle these kinds of things. But calling her now made everything feel more real, more terrifying.

She pressed the call button, and Ruth picked up on the second ring. “Izzy, what’s going on? Liv isn’t being told anything, and Molly left to go into work.”

Isobel swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. “Ruth, I’m being brought in for questioning. Two more bodies were pulled from Old Mill Lake. The detective, John Larson, wants to know the details of my previous case. I don’t know what I can tell them. Are some of my interviews protected?” She took a deep breath. “Brad’s driving me to the station.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end, then Ruth’s voice hardened. “Honey, I’m sure they just want to be brought up to speed about the old case. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She sighed. “Promise me you’ll wait for me before you say anything you know doesn’t exist in the police file.”

“I promise,” Isobel said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Brad glanced at her as she ended the call, concern etched in every line of his face. “Ruth is on her way?”

Isobel nodded, trying to ignore the growing knot in her chest. “She said not to say anything important until she gets there.”

“Good advice,” Brad said calmly, though his grip on the steering wheel was tight. He reached over and took her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. “It’ll be okay, Belle.”

For a moment, the touch of his hand grounded her, pulling her away from the fear that had been swallowing her whole. Her eyes searched his face for the reassurance she so desperatelyneeded. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

Isobel's mind drifted back to her very first case as an intern, one that had haunted her ever since. Two teenage girls, believed at first to have drowned, had actually been murdered—a truth she uncovered by meticulously reexamining the overlooked evidence. Driven by her instincts, she chased down every lead, piecing together fragments long after the case had gone cold. But despite her relentless pursuit, the killer slipped through her grasp, leaving her with an unsolved mystery that gnawed at her. She learned some answers might forever remain out of reach. Now what was going to happen?

Brad gave her a small, soft smile, the kind that made her chest ache with unspoken feelings. “Always.”

But even as the warmth of his words wrapped around her, the icy shadow of Detective Larson’s presence lingered in the back of her head, cold and unyielding. The past wasn’t done with her yet.

Brad gripped the steering wheel,his knuckles turning white from the tension coiled in his body. His eyes flickered over to Isobel, who sat beside him, staring blankly out the window. Her hands were tightly knotted in her lap, her face pale. He wanted to reach over, to reassure her, to tell her everything would be okay, but the truth was, he couldn’t promise that.

Stay focused, he reminded himself. That protective urge, the desire to control the situation, hummed beneath his skin like an electric current. He had always kept that part of himself in check, locked deep inside. But moments like this? Momentswhere danger lingered close to the woman beside him? That control felt like a lifeline.

"Belle," he kept his voice calm, steady, "when we get to the station, keep your answers simple. Facts only, no opinions. Not until we know what Larson’s really after."

Isobel’s lips twisted into a small, wry smile. “You mean a discussion of his penis insecurity.”

Brad barked out a laugh, some of the tension loosening in his chest. “That’s my girl.” He winked at her, pulling into a late-night drive-thru. He ordered her a chicken sandwich and a cola without asking—he already knew. He’d known her too long not to.

"You remembered.” A smile played at the edges of her lips, but her eyes still held shadows.

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