Page 39 of Beneath the Surface

Isobel's head pounded,and every inch of her body itched and burned with a relentless intensity. Breathing was a painful endeavor, each inhale a reminder of her fragile state. Yet, none of that seemed to matter in the moment. Brad's arms were around her, a haven of warmth and security.

Resting against his chest, she tried to untangle the jumble in her mind. How had wasps gotten into her shower? The thought was absurd, and would be almost laughable, if it weren’t for herlingering terror. Was someone doing this to her? But who? And, more importantly, why?

Her thoughts shifted, as they often did, to her responsibilities. There was so much work left undone. Reports to file, cases to close. Emma—poor sweet Emma. The thought of that innocent girl filled Isobel with a deep, aching sorrow. Was she going to die? The possibility dug at her.

Her mind drifted back to her own mortality. The vivid fear of dying had been so palpable, so consuming. She took a staggering breath, feeling the tightness in her chest, and held on to Brad tighter. He must have sensed her distress because his grip tightened, a silent reassurance he was there, that she wasn't alone.

His lips brushed the top of her head, and he whispered, “Belle.” He was the only one who called her that. In this moment, it felt like a lifeline. It felt like safety.

She closed her eyes, leaning into him, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability. The steady beat of his heart under her ear was a comforting rhythm.

“Brad,” she mumbled. “Why… why did this happen?”

He sighed, a sound heavy with frustration and helplessness. “I don’t know. But I swear I’m going to find out. I won’t let them get away with this.”

A tear slipped from beneath her bandages, and she felt him gently wipe it away. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice cracking.

“I know,” his words were steady and strong, “but you’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever again.”

In his arms, despite the pain and the fear, Isobel found peace. The questions and uncertainties still lingered, but for now, she allowed herself to be held, to be comforted. And in Brad’s embrace, she found the strength to face another moment, another breath, another heartbeat.

Sixteen

Over the next few days, Brad juggled his time between being with Isobel, his duties with the highway patrol, and keeping a close eye on Detective Larson’s investigation while also staying out of his way. Detective Larson’s team worked on uncovering details about the device that held the yellow jackets and its origin.

Larson called Brad with an update as he stood outside the hospital, taking a brief moment to clear his mind while her family visited. “Brad, we’ve got a lead. The device was bought in a gun shop in Sioux Falls by a known associate of the Viper Lords. We’re searching for him.”

“Viper Lords.” Brad blew out a breath. “Larson, your case has jumped jurisdictions. I’m not going to shut you down, but SDHPB is officially joining your investigation.”

The Viper Lords operated under a strict code of loyalty and dominance. Members were required to undergo "The Bite," an initiation ritual where they were symbolically "bitten" into the gang by completing a dangerous task, often involving theft, violence, or sabotage. Those who succeeded were branded with the gang's signature tattoo: a coiled viper ready to strike, usually inked on the forearm or neck.

The snake motif was central to their identity, symbolizing power, stealth, and venomous retribution. Their motto, "Strike First, Strike Last," encapsulated their aggressive approach to dealing with rivals and law enforcement.

Luther “King Cobra” Vance was released from an Illinois prison after serving time for armed robbery, taking his connections to larger criminal enterprises from Minneapolis and Chicago. Inspired by his fascination with snakes, he named the gang the Viper Lords, emphasizing their lethal precision and ability to strike unseen.

Now run by Todd “Fang” Holloway, the Viper Lords' reach went far beyond their reputation as a ruthless gang. Over the years, they carved out an unexpected niche in South Dakota’s underworld: intertwining their operations with the darker, more clandestine side of the local adult scene. Brad knew Hot Shots’ owner, Angelica “Mistress Crimson” Duvall, was likely one of their connections.

“I figured this was coming,” Larson said. “You realize this is a huge conflict of interest for you.”

“Let me figure out how to navigate this. I’ll send a couple of investigators to that shop in Sioux Falls. Our bad guy must have some type of history of using unconventional methods to intimidate witnesses. There is no record of Isobel being allergic to bees. Was this a murder attempt? This is certainly a unique way to harm someone.” Brad pressed his lips together. “None of us have seen bees or their venom used as a weapon—except the McMillan case.”

“I agree. We need to find out if there’s a case they’re trying to stop Isobel from testifying in, if it’s even about that. It could be a stalker. Is Isobel up to talking with me?” Larson asked.

“Yeah, if you don’t push too hard. They’re thinking of sending her home in a day or two. But if she gets too upset and cries, her airway could swell again.” Brad thought a minute. “Larson, I’dappreciate you giving me a heads-up when you want to question her.” He sighed and finished up the conversation. “Finding who from the Viper Lords ordered the electronic beekeeper will give us other answers. Let me know as soon as you have anything solid.”

As Brad hung up, he felt more worried. The doctors were talking about sending Isobel home. He needed to keep her safe. He’d have to convince her that her apartment was not safe. He’d tell her they were making sure there were no bees left, and her landlord hadn’t signed off on the new door and shower head yet.

He returned to Isobel’s room, where her family had gathered once more. The atmosphere was lighter now, filled with cautious optimism. Brad took a place against the wall and watched her as she spoke with her family. It was clear she could barely keep her eyes open, exhausted by the antihistamines in her system and the effort it took due to her eyelids being so swollen.

Isobel's family members maintained a happy banter. Her head bobbed along with the steady beep of her heart monitor. Alex Marcel moved to stand beside him. Shortly after, Ethan Hayes joined them.

Alex spoke first, his voice low and concerned. "I know you don't want to scare Isobel, but does the HPB have anything?"

Brad lifted his chin toward the door, indicating they should talk outside. The three men stepped into the hallway, and he began to update them on the investigation.

"Not much," Brad admitted, his frustration evident. "There were the new cases that mimicked her previous cases, and then the bee attack—she worked a case that used venom, not live stings. Larson found another note.” He showed them a picture of it. “Was that meant to scare her or kill her? We don't know. My guess is it was to scare her—otherwise why leave that note? I have two investigators trying to find the guy who bought the fakehive installed in her shower—a gang banger for the Viper Lords in Sioux Falls."

Alex pressed his lips together, worry etched on his face. "Getting into Isobel's place, with the level of security the building has, is difficult. If they made it in… Her safety has to be a priority. I'd let her stay with me, but I've been staying with Charlotte, and she’s rattled. If she’s like her sisters, that’s the last place Izzy wants to stay.” He chuckled. “And Molly is pregnant, plus there’s Ethan’s aunt and sister to consider.”

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