Beneath the Surface (Everhart Family #4)

Chapter 1

One

B rad Killian stood stoically on the shoreline, the warm summer night air thick and oppressive, clinging to him like an unwelcome shadow. The lake, its surface placid under the moon’s glow, hid beneath it a terror that had once again clawed its way into peaceful Waverly County. His gray eyes swept over the scene with the practiced calm of a seasoned officer, yet his mind raced, haunted by the memories of the nightmare that had unfolded four years ago. It was all too familiar.

Every detail before him was a grotesque replica, a cruel reenactment of the case that gripped the town in terror and left an indelible mark on his soul. His jaw clenched as divers emerged from the lake’s cold grasp, pulling the bodies of two teenagers—lifeless, waterlogged, and eerily posed by the ropes tied around them—onto the muddy shore. The gruesome sight was a painful echo of the past, a twisted reflection of the tragedy he hoped would never resurface.

Beside him stood Sergeant Bill McKenzie of the Waverly County Police, a solid and steady presence as always. The older officer’s face was grim, his eyes reflecting the same torment that weighed on Brad’s heart. The only sound breaking the stillness of the night was the distant murmur of radios and the soft sloshing of the water as the divers worked. The lake was deceptively calm, as if mocking them with its serenity.

Brad, Assistant District Commander for Field Operations of the South Dakota Highway Patrol Bureau, gripped the plastic evidence bag he held. Inside was a note—crumpled, damp, and carrying a sinister message. Its words, scribbled hastily, were chillingly familiar. The note was meant for Isobel Everhart.

Her family called her Izzy. He called her Belle.

Brad watched as the head of the dive team approached, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp with concern.

“You feeling it too, Brad? That same sense of déjà vu?” The man’s voice was low, barely carrying over the muffled sounds of the dive site.

Brad nodded slowly, his gaze drifting toward the water’s edge, where the team had just brought up the bodies of two teenage girls. The scene was eerily similar, too similar, to another tragic recovery years ago.

“Yeah.” A chill ran down his spine. “It’s like we’re reliving it. Same age, same look… I’d bet the cause of death is identical to last time.”

The head diver exhaled, running a hand over his face. “Two young lives, gone like this. And nothing to explain why.”

Brad felt a knot of unease tighten in his gut. It wasn’t just the girls who seemed familiar—the circumstances, the eerie calm of the water, the strange sense that this tragedy had happened before, all of it tugged at him. They needed answers, but deep down, he feared what those answers might reveal.

He remembered the first time he met Isobel Everhart. Izzy, as her family called her, had been there with her mother, visiting her big sister Olivia. She was only eighteen then, fresh-faced and full of life, her auburn hair catching the sunlight.

She was adorable in that carefree, slightly awkward way of young women just beginning to find themselves. Brad had smiled at her, and when Olivia introduced them, Belle blushed, her bright hazel eyes meeting his briefly before she quickly looked away, shy and flustered—submissive?

At thirty, Brad had felt every year of the age difference between them that day. He was already established in his career, weathered by the demands of his job. She was just beginning her journey, wide-eyed and full of potential.

Now, ten years later, that memory stirred something deep within him. Belle had grown—no, transformed —into the stunning woman she was today. At twenty-eight, she had the same fire in her eyes, but now it was tempered by experience, by her work in forensic psychology. She was no longer the shy, blushing girl from that first time meeting her. She was strong, sharp, and beautiful in a way that was impossible to ignore.

He smiled to himself, remembering the shy eighteen-year-old who blushed when she met him. She was all grown up now, and he was in deep—too deep. The horrors of Isobel’s first case had followed her.

His phone buzzed, cutting through the silence. Isobel’s name flashed across the screen. She was at her sister Sophie’s house with her family tonight. It was supposed to be a simple, relaxing summer evening—a celebration of Sophie’s return to work after she nearly lost her life. He was supposed to be there. They were his family too.

“Belle,” Brad began, his heart pounding in his chest. “Are you at Sophie’s?”

“Yes.” Her voice, so light and carefree just moments ago, was now tinged with confusion. “Where are you? We’re all getting worried. Did you get stuck on a case?”

Brad’s throat tightened. He could hear laughter and music in the background, the sounds of family and peace—a peace that was about to be shattered. He swallowed hard, the situation pressing down on him like a vise. “I’m sending a patrol car for you.”

“What’s going on?” her voice trembled.

“I’m at Old Mill Lake. There’s been a double murder, Belle. It’s... it looks like a reenactment of the Ferguson case, the one with the drowned teens.” He heard her sharp gasp, followed by a heavy silence. She was a naive intern in forensic psychology when she worked the case with her advisor.

“Belle, stay with your family,” Brad said firmly, pushing aside his own rising fear. “Stay with them until the patrol car arrives. Do not leave, do you understand?”

There was a brief pause before her big sister’s voice replaced Isobel’s on the line. Olivia was a detective. “Brad, it’s Liv. What is going on? Izzy is shaking like a leaf.”

Brad inhaled slowly, steeling himself for what he had to say next. “Liv... it’s bad. We found a note. It’s addressed to Belle.” He heard Liv curse under her breath, her usual calm slipping.

Isobel came back on the line. “Brad?”

He closed his eyes briefly, mustering the strength to keep his own emotions in check. “Forget the patrol car,” he said in a quiet command. “I’m coming to get you. Stay right where you are. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

As the line went dead, Brad stood still for a moment, staring out over the lake that had once again become a graveyard. His pulse thundered in his ears, and the familiar burn of anger ignited within him. This was no coincidence.

With one final glance at the lake, Brad turned and strode toward his car, every muscle in his body coiled and ready. He had to get to Isobel.

Her sisters sat close, their presence a quiet comfort as they waited for Brad to arrive. Isobel could feel their concern, though none said a word. It was an unspoken understanding, the kind only family shared.

She slipped her phone into her pocket, hands trembling slightly, and inhaled deeply, trying to center herself. Brad was on his way. Brad was coming for her.

But it wasn’t just the unknown that unsettled her. It was the feelings she had buried for years. Feelings she didn’t dare admit aloud.

She had admired Brad for as long as she could remember, ever since she was a teenager watching him from the sidelines at family gatherings. At twenty-eight, she knew the age gap between them was significant—Brad was forty—but that hadn’t stopped her heart from beating fast every time he entered the room. His deep brown hair, streaked with strands of blond from the sun, his piercing gray eyes, and his unwavering dedication to his work made him formidable. And, in her eyes, heartbreakingly irresistible.

She knew better than to let herself get caught up in those feelings. He was a friend of the family, nothing more. Yet now, as she waited for him to arrive, those old, confusing emotions stirred deep within her, blending with her fear and anxiety. The minutes seemed to stretch forever, each one heavier than the last as memories of the original case replayed in her mind. Four years ago, Old Mill Lake had become a tomb for two teenagers. Their deaths were initially ruled as tragic accidents, but as she dug deeper, the truth emerged.

When Brad finally arrived, the tension in her chest loosened just slightly. His presence brought with it a sense of safety, as if, just by standing next to him, the world seemed a little less terrifying. His eyes, sharp and concerned, found hers immediately. Without a word, he crossed the distance between them, his movements precise and deliberate. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle yet grounding.

"Belle, are you alright?"

She nodded, though her voice betrayed her, high-pitched and fragile. "It happened again, Brad. The same MO, the same location?”

Brad’s jaw clenched, his gray eyes darkening with an intensity she had come to know so well. "We'll get to the bottom of this. I promise you."

After a silent drive, they walked together to the water’s edge, where the area had been cordoned off by yellow police tape. Officers moved in the bright portable lights. The low murmur of voices and the distant flashing lights created a surreal backdrop, a stark contrast to the horrors that had unfolded sometime earlier that day.

Brad handed the note to her, his expression shifting from concern to something darker as she read the chilling message. She turned it over in her hands, a plain white envelope with no markings, addressed simply to "Dr. Isobel Everhart."

Dearest Isobel,

Four years ago, you thought you solved the mystery, but you were wrong.

The truth has always been in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to surface.

Now, as the lake claims more innocent lives, remember:

You were so close, yet you missed the mark.

Look deeper this time. The past is not buried as deeply as you think.

Time is running out, Isobel.

Tick, tock.

When she finally looked up, he said, "The killer is playing a twisted game."

Isobel shuddered. She wasn’t the scared intern from four years ago. She had faced down those nightmares before and survived. But this... this felt personal in a way the previous case hadn’t.

"We have to find whoever wrote this, Brad," she said, stronger now.

Brad’s eyes met hers, his expression softening for just a moment, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. His hand brushed against hers, and the brief contact sent a surge of warmth through her. "We will find the killer," he said. "I won’t let anyone hurt you, Belle.”

Brad’s presence made her feel braver, more capable. She wasn’t alone in this. Not this time.