Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
B rad couldn’t shake the simmering anger beneath the surface as he walked back to the car, his hand gripping Isobel’s arm with a firm but unyielding grasp. She said nothing as he opened the passenger door and helped her into the seat, buckling her seatbelt with clipped, precise movements. The silence between them was thick as he climbed into the driver’s seat, his jaw ticking, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
The memory of Isobel standing her ground flashed before him, her defiant expression as maddening as it was admirable. He wanted to be furious—needed to be. She’d put herself in danger again. Her reckless bravery was both her strength and her curse, and it was going to get her killed if he wasn’t careful.
Jace Rodriguez’s interrogation was fresh in his mind, like a splinter he couldn’t remove. An hour of relentless pushing had finally cracked him.
"Fine! Fine!" Jace had snapped, his hands gripping the edges of the metal table in the interrogation room. "I’ll tell you what I know. But that place, man... that place gave me the creeps. You don’t know what it’s like being there."
Brad had leaned forward, his voice low and steady. "What place, Jace?"
"Hot Shots. The private club over on Carson in Pierre. The Viper Lords’ head and fangs use the basement as a meeting place. They’ve got these… playrooms, or whatever. People act out weird fantasies. You know, like... doctors and patients, that kind of thing. It’s all legal, or so they say, but it’s shady as hell."
"What happened with Tyrone Morris?" Brad pressed, his patience hanging by a thread.
Jace exhaled sharply, his shoulders slumping. "I took him there, alright? He had a day pass from the hospital. I didn’t want to, but one of the fangs was so insistent. So I drove him there, like I was told."
"And then?"
"And then this guy… he called himself The Doctor… he was waiting in one of the playrooms. Freaky dude, man. The way he looked at Tyrone..." Jace shivered, running a hand over his face. "I left. I didn’t stick around. The guy told me to come back in five hours."
"When you picked Tyrone up, what was his condition?"
"He was… normal, I guess? Sleepy, but not talking crazy like before. I drove him back to the hospital. They discharged him the next day. Whatever they gave him or did to him, it made him… okay for a while."
Brad’s mind replayed the confession, the pieces of the puzzle refusing to fit together neatly. Hot Shots, The Doctor, the unsettling transformation in Tyrone.
Why couldn’t she just trust him to handle it? Why did she have to run headlong into danger?
But deep down, Brad knew the truth. Isobel’s determination was what made her so damn good at what she did. And maybe… just maybe, it was what they needed to solve this.
Isobel shifted nervously beside him, sensing the storm brewing. The silence was unbearable again, and despite knowing it would do no good, she couldn’t stop herself from trying to explain. "Brad, the report, when I downloaded the draft, it was completely messed up. The supporting documents were moved. I had to take the correct version to the judge. I couldn’t let my client’s mother and her boyfriend stop her chemotherapy. I didn’t know what else to do."
Her voice, shaky but determined, seemed to ignite his anger even more. Brad remained silent, eyes fixed on the road, his grip on the wheel tightening further. She could feel his unspoken frustration bearing down on her.
"And then," she continued, her voice faltering, "when the body was found, the two officers got me out of there. I wasn’t trying to?—"
Brad cut her off, each word sharp with controlled fury, "Isobel, you were there at the same time as the murderer. Don’t pretend you didn’t know exactly what you were doing when you defied me. You had choices."
His words landed with a heavy blow, and Isobel swallowed hard. She knew, deep down, no explanation would soften his anger. She disobeyed him, and the consequences were inevitable. He was right. She was being stalked by a madman. Things could have gone very badly. She should have called him.
The rest of the drive passed in suffocating silence. When they arrived at Brad’s home, he drove inside the garage and reset the security system with methodical precision, his body tense. Once inside, he turned to face her, his eyes blazing with fury and concern, emotions he had kept in check until now.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous your actions were, Isobel?” Brad’s voice cut through the room like a blade. “You could have been hurt. You could have been killed. And for what? To drop off a report?”
Isobel stood frozen, her chest tightening with guilt as his words sank in. She had messed up badly, and his anger felt unbearable.
Brad stepped closer, his tone softening slightly but still stern. "I told you not to leave the office. I gave you clear instructions, and you chose to ignore them. That cannot happen again. Stay right where you are. I’ll be right back.”
Minutes later, he returned, no longer wearing his uniform. Instead, he wore dark blue sweatpants and a white tee shirt. She hadn’t moved from the spot. He walked over to the couch and sat down, his gaze never leaving her. The intensity in his eyes made her breath hitch. “You need to understand there are consequences to defying me, Isobel. In this relationship, my word is law when it comes to your safety. You’re going to learn that now.”
Isobel’s heart raced, her pulse pounding in her ears. A mix of emotions swirled inside her—fear, guilt, and a strange sense of anticipation she couldn’t quite place. She had trusted Brad implicitly from the start, but now, that trust was about to be tested.
Brad’s voice was calm but commanding as he spoke again, “Come here, Isobel. You need to be reminded what it means to defy me.”
Her legs felt heavy as she moved toward him, her heart pounding. She stopped in front of him, her breath shallow.
Brad looked up at her, his gaze steady and unyielding. "Take off your slacks and panties and lie over my knees," he commanded.
Isobel hesitated for only a second before obeying, draping herself over his lap, her body feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way she had never experienced before. Brad’s hand rested on her lower back, letting her feel his control.
“Grab my ankle.” He inhaled deeply. “I’m not doing this to hurt you,” he murmured, his voice low and measured. “But you need to understand that disobedience comes with consequences. I won’t tolerate you putting yourself in danger.”
Without another word, his hand came down firmly on her backside. The sharp sound of the impact echoed through the room, and Isobel gasped, her body jolting with the sting of it. Brad didn’t stop. He brought his hand down again and again, each strike deliberate, measured, but with enough force to leave her skin burning.
“Do you understand why this is happening?” he asked between spanks.
“Yes,” Isobel whispered, “I understand. I put myself and the police guarding me in danger.”
Brad continued, his hand coming down again, the heat intensifying on her skin. "Good. Because this isn’t just about punishment. This is about trust. You need to trust that I’m doing what’s best for your safety, even when you don’t agree."
Each slap punctuated his words, each one reminding her of the consequences of disobeying him. The stinging pain blended with the overwhelming emotions that were building inside her, her body trembling under his control. “You could have called me. We could have made a safe plan to get the report to the court.”
Pain morphed into a weird type of pleasure. Isobel’s body was shaking from the release of emotions she had kept bottled up. Tears filled her eyes, and before she could stop herself, she began to cry—deep, heaving sobs that came from a place she didn’t even realize existed. The fear, the guilt, the exhaustion of the past days all poured out of her.
Brad’s hand came to rest on her lower back, his touch gentle now. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "You’re mine, Belle. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if it means this."
Isobel let out a shaky breath, her body relaxing slightly as the tension began to release. She knew, deep down, he was right. She had defied him, and now she had learned the lesson. But more than that, she felt his control, his protection, and she trusted him completely.
After a few moments, Brad helped her sit up, his expression softening as he pulled her into his arms. “You’re okay,” he murmured, holding her close, his voice tender now. “I’ve got you.”
Isobel buried her face in his chest, still trembling but with a deep sense of relief. But the punishment wasn’t over.
Brad’s hands were firm as he lifted her chin, their eyes locking. She saw the glimmer of need in his eyes, need that mirrored her own. She needed to feel the connection. Without a word, he guided her onto the floor, positioning her on her hands and knees.
Isobel’s breath hitched, her body already sensitive, but she surrendered to him completely. Brad knelt behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he entered her slowly, deliberately, filling her inch by inch. Her moan echoed through the room, her body trembling as he set a slow, torturous rhythm, his control unwavering.
With each thrust, he took her deeper, his hands sliding over her body, possessive and strong. Isobel’s moans grew louder as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Brad’s control over her was absolute, and she gave herself fully to him, knowing he would take her exactly where she needed to go.
Finally, as her body trembled beneath him, Brad pushed her over the edge, her climax tearing through her as she screamed his name. He followed moments later, the intensity of his release matching hers as they collapsed together.
For a long time, they stayed like that. Brad’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close as they both caught their breath. He kissed her shoulder softly, his lips lingering on her skin.
"You did well with your first spanking," he whispered.
After they showered, Brad made dinner, and after eating, he asked Isobel to join him in the living room. The space was quiet, dimly lit by a single lamp. He sat in his chair and pulled her into his lap. The atmosphere felt serious, and Isobel could sense the shift in Brad’s bearing.
“Do you have any questions about your spanking?” he asked, a hint of authority still lingering.
She looked down for a moment, biting her lip. “No,” she whispered.
Brad ran his fingers through her hair. “I punished you with a spanking because I needed to get your attention, Belle. It was never meant to hurt you, only to correct and refocus you.” He paused, looking into her eyes. “Do you understand?”
She nodded, feeling the sincerity behind his words. “I do.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“What would hurt me is if I lost you. I’ve waited so long to have you in my life.” He took a long, deep breath and wrapped his arms tighter around her. “Now, tell me what happened with your report. I can tell something’s bothering you.”
“First, can you tell me how the person was killed?”
“I haven’t talked more with Larson, but it was a male in his forties who had just appeared in court. Preliminary cause of death is drowning in the toilet. That’s how he was found; there was water on the floor.”
“The Rueben Hancock case. It was during my post-doctorate course in LA. He had just won custody of his kids, and his ex-wife paid to have him killed.”
“This goes back to while you were in school.” His body stiffened. “Did you write about this case?”
“No. It was easily solved. Our professor showed it to us as a case that didn’t require a psychological analysis.”
“Tell me about your report.”
Belle took a deep breath. “When I pulled it up, it wasn’t the report I dictated. It was changed, Brad. I had to rewrite the whole thing, and it had to be in by four o’clock. My recommendation in the original report was going to alter custody for a very ill child.”
Brad’s brow furrowed. “How was the report altered?”
Belle’s eyes darkened with frustration and disbelief as she recalled the details. “The mother’s boyfriend had no empathy. He even said the child would probably die eventually, and it wouldn’t be so bad if she died now. I recommended giving custody to the father. But when I looked at the altered version, it said to grant custody to the mother because the boyfriend would bring ‘stability’ to the family.”
Brad’s expression hardened as he listened. His jaw clenched slightly. “The boyfriend? Tell me more about him.”
Belle shifted uncomfortably, as though speaking the words out loud made the situation more real, more disturbing. “This is the man I spoke with you about, the one who belongs to Hot Shots. He and the mom leave the ten-year-old alone when they go there, or they send her to her room. She hears noises, Brad.”
Brad’s eyes widened slightly. He straightened, clearly alarmed now. He stared at Belle, his mind burning. “Belle, the report… I need the boyfriend’s name. I can get a warrant if you want me to.”
She knew he would. “He frightened me. His name is Andrew Mitchell.”
Brad pulled her tightly against him. When he looked down to face her, his eyes held a worry she had never seen before. It wasn’t a coincidence her report was tampered with.
Brad placed her on her feet. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go to bed.”
He guided her out of the living room, his arm wrapped protectively around her. They made their way to the bedroom, and, soon, Brad was asleep, his arms wrapped tightly around her, as if to shield her from the darkness of what was happening.
But Isobel couldn’t sleep.
She slipped from Brad’s embrace and quietly tiptoed back to his office. Sitting down at his desk, she pulled out her tablet and began drafting a profile—a profile of a man who had perverted everything a true D/s relationship stood for.
She took a breath. She knew the cases. She knew the notes. The only one she didn’t know was the murder Brad went to the night before she was discharged from the hospital. She’d have to ask him, and she’d alter her profile accordingly.
Overview
The perpetrator is a male in his fifties who exhibits a profound perversion of what a true Dominant/submissive (D/s) relationship is meant to be. While a genuine D/s dynamic is built upon trust, communication, and mutual respect, this individual distorts these principles, thriving on coercion, fear, and psychological manipulation. His behavior reflects an unhealthy obsession with control and domination, not only over his victims but also over the boundaries of ethical behavior in relationships.
Key Psychological Traits
Narcissism and Grandiosity
The murderer sees himself as superior, believing his interpretation of dominance is the ultimate truth. His grandiose sense of self allows him to justify his manipulative actions. This narcissism likely extends to his professional life, where he positions himself as a thought leader, disregarding established ethical boundaries.
He likely views his victims as objects of research rather than individuals with autonomy. His sense of entitlement over their lives and bodies points to a deep-seated superiority complex.
Perverted Understanding of D/s Dynamics
The killer warps the D/s dynamic, eschewing consensual submission for coerced obedience. His need for domination overrides any consideration for the well-being or boundaries of his partners. Where a true Dominant would ensure trust and safety, this individual derives satisfaction from forcing submission and watching his victims succumb to his control.
He likely uses psychological manipulation to wear down his victims, creating a false sense of helplessness before delivering the final blow. His understanding of D/s is not one of mutual respect but rather a sadistic drive to strip his victims of their autonomy.
Familiarity with Forensic Psychology
The murderer is well-versed in forensic psychology, which makes him particularly dangerous. He is likely someone who either works in the field or has studied it extensively. His expertise allows him to manipulate not only his victims but also investigations, staying one step ahead of law enforcement.
His theories are unconventional, possibly bordering on unethical or even illegal in their application. He pushes boundaries, seeking to explore the darkest corners of human psychology, but his methods are deeply flawed, rooted in domination rather than discovery.
He may have published papers or conducted research in obscure psychological journals, using his credentials as a veneer of legitimacy. However, his work is dismissed by mainstream professionals due to its extreme nature.
Need for Control
Control is a central theme in his life, not just in his relationships but also in his interactions with the world. He seeks to manipulate situations to his advantage, making his victims feel powerless and isolated.
His victims are carefully selected, possibly vulnerable individuals he can easily dominate. He feeds on their submission, using their compliance as proof of his superiority. The moment they break under his will, he feels his "research" is complete.
This victimology breaks from the profile, his choice of forensic psychologists. These women were chosen because their work threatens the murderer. He feeds on their submission, using their compliance as proof of his superiority.
Sadism and Emotional Detachment
The murderer exhibits traits of sadism, taking pleasure in the pain and fear of his victims. Unlike most individuals in the D/s lifestyle, who derive satisfaction from consensual power exchanges, this man thrives on the suffering he inflicts.
He is emotionally detached, capable of treating people as mere objects in his twisted experiments. His lack of empathy suggests psychopathic tendencies, with no regard for the emotional or physical well-being of others.
Once his victim succumbs to his domination, he sees no further use for them, leading to their demise. In his mind, their death marks the completion of his research, and he feels no remorse for ending their lives.
Method of Operation (MO)
The murderer likely employs a methodical approach to both seduction and control. He carefully selects his victims, possibly targeting individuals within vulnerable communities or those who show an interest in alternative lifestyles, such as the D/s community.
His interactions with his victims start subtly, creating an environment where they feel compelled to trust him. Over time, he escalates his demands, eroding their sense of self until they feel they have no choice but to submit.
His methods of killing are likely calculated, potentially involving psychological torture before a final, decisive act. He may strangle his victims or use another intimate method to maintain his sense of control until the very end.
Personality and Social Mask
In his daily life, the killer likely appears composed, intelligent, and articulate. He is probably well-respected in his professional or social circles, using his charm and knowledge to mask his true nature.
He may be a part of elite or intellectual communities, such as adult lifestyle clubs, where he blends in with others who share an interest in alternative relationships. His social mask allows him to fly under the radar, hiding his predatory tendencies behind an air of sophistication.
His involvement in a club, particularly one with a BDSM reference like "Hot Shots," suggests he hides in plain sight, using the veneer of consensual kink to cover his abusive tendencies.
Risk Factors and Escalation
Given his age and the duration of his behavior, it is likely the murderer has committed similar crimes in the past. His knowledge of forensic psychology and ability to manipulate people indicate he has honed his craft over time.
The addition of forensic psychologists is an outlier. Finding the trigger to this addition to his kill list will likely identify him.
A trigger for him is unlikely a typical trigger involving the loss of a human important to him. It is likely because of a career setback.
His behavior may escalate as he becomes more confident in his ability to evade detection. Each victim represents another step in his twisted "research," and as he perfects his methods, his crimes may become more frequent and more brazen.
This man represents a blend of intellect, deviance, and cruelty. His twisted need for domination, combined with his expertise in psychology, make him a uniquely dangerous predator. His ability to mask his true nature, coupled with his knowledge of forensic science, enables him to operate under the radar while continuing his sadistic pursuits. Identifying him will require piecing together the subtle ways in which he manipulates both his victims and those around him.
Isobel took a deep breath, her body shaking as she hovered over the keyboard. She knew she couldn’t stop now. There was more to piece together, and it wasn’t only her own safety at risk.
She cracked her knuckles, her thoughts sharp as she continued to write.
Addendum: Psychological Insights and Tactics of the Perpetrator
It is critical to note the killer’s methodical use of manipulation, particularly through psychological imitation. The comparisons to the cases of Isobel Everhart are meant to break her down through systematic emotional and psychological abuse.
The perpetrator, drawing from these tactics, is likely attempting to create this breakdown process, to create a clear path of control through fear, isolation, and manipulation of her emotional connections.
However, in the event she resists this process, there is a strong likelihood the killer will escalate. The failure to obtain satisfaction through use of imitation may result in the killer resorting to more intimate forms of emotional upheaval.
Isobel paused, thinking of her own loved ones, a chill running through her. She forced herself to continue, her writing steady.
Escalation and Targeting of Loved Ones
The killer’s obsession with domination does not stop at his direct victim. If met with resistance, he will likely turn to the people closest to her—their pain becoming a tool to dismantle her emotional defenses. This shift is a calculated move, aimed at exerting greater pressure on the victim by threatening or harming those she cares for most.
This tactic serves not only to deepen the victim’s isolation but also provides the killer with a heightened sense of control and satisfaction, knowing the victim’s submission is now intertwined with the suffering of others. The intimacy of this escalation speaks to the killer's deep psychological need for dominance and complete emotional destruction of his prey.
Isobel hit save and stared at the screen. The implications of what she had just written were horrifying, but she couldn’t ignore the truth of it. She thought of her family and of Brad, of how close they had become, and the reality that this man could go after him if things escalated. The killer’s need for control seemed to know no limits, and her resistance could make her loved ones targets.
Taking another deep breath, she continued her notes, knowing full well this wasn’t just a psychological profile—it was a warning.
A sob escaped her lips before she could stop it, everything crashing down on her. Isobel hunched over the screen, tears blurring her vision as she desperately tried to push away the overwhelming fear. She couldn’t lose anyone she loved. The thought of Brad, her family, or anyone else close to her becoming a target of this monster made her chest tighten in unbearable panic.
Suddenly, she heard the faint sound of footsteps on the stairs. Her heart leaped into her throat, and before she could compose herself, Brad appeared in the doorway, his expression filled with concern.
"Belle?" His voice was soft but firm, cutting through her fear.
He crossed the room with quick strides, kneeling beside her chair. His eyes searched hers, taking in the tears on her cheeks, her hands trembling, and the words on the screen. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.
"Hey, I'm here," he murmured into her hair. "You’re not going to lose anyone, Belle. Not me, not anyone you care about."
His presence grounded her, and she clung to him, the sound of his steady heartbeat calming the storm inside her. She couldn’t speak yet, her sobs coming in broken waves, but Brad held her without letting go, his grip protective and unwavering.
After a moment, he pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Belle nodded, swallowing hard, trying to gather herself. She glanced down at her work, her thoughts still staring back at her, and then she looked at Brad.
“He’ll come after you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “If he can’t break me, he’ll hurt the people I love. I know it. I can’t—” her voice broke again, “I can’t let that happen.”
Brad's expression darkened slightly, but his resolve only seemed to strengthen. He gently cupped her face, tilting it up to meet his eyes. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice firm. “I won’t let that happen. We’ll figure this out, and no one is going to touch you or anyone you love. Not while I’m here.”
Isobel sniffed, trying to absorb his words, trying to believe they could stay ahead of whatever darkness was looming over them. Brad pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his arms still wrapped tightly around her.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s go back to bed. We’ll deal with everything in the morning.”
She hesitated for a moment, glancing one last time at what she’d written. But Brad’s hand on her back was reassuring, his presence a reminder that she wasn’t alone in this nightmare. She nodded, letting him guide her back to their room, where the warmth of his embrace would give her a few hours of peace.