Chapter Nine #2
Isabel’s perfectly composed expression faltered just for a second. A flash of something…annoyance? Anger? Before she masked it with a sharp glare.
“That’s a cold way of putting it,” she said, her voice clipped.
Jesse held her gaze, letting the silence stretch between them. She wasn’t crying over Abilene. Hell, she wasn’t even pretending to be devastated.
“Why don’t you tell us what you came here to say,” Lauren said, her tone edged with impatience.
Isabel took a measured breath, and Jesse watched Isabel carefully as she smoothed a hand over her arm, her fingertips brushing the fabric of her tailored blouse. A nervous tic or something more?
“I know you’re probably looking into different suspects for what happened to my stepsister and the other woman I heard about on the news,” Isabel said, “but I think you’re wasting your time.” Her bottom lip trembled just a little. “It was Abilene. She did this.”
“Your stepsister abducted and murdered another woman and then took her own life?” Lauren asked. Even though this was something Lauren and he had discussed, Jesse heard the skepticism in her voice as she posed that question to Isabel.
Isabel gave a crisp nod. “Abilene was seeing a psychologist for anxiety. A Dr. Graves, and—”
“Dr. Ethan Graves?” Lauren interrupted.
“Yes.” She pulled back her shoulders. “You know him.” She paused, sighed. “Of course, you know him,” she said, her attention on Lauren. “I did some internet searches on him, and he was your therapist after your own abduction. I believe he was also the profiler for your county sheriff.”
Isabel said that in an almost off-handed way, but Jesse couldn’t help but wonder if everything coming out of her mouth was meant to ensure they believed her sister was a killer.
And Abilene might very well be.
But there was something about this woman that didn’t set right with him.
“How long had Abilene been seeing Dr. Graves?” Lauren asked.
“I’m not sure. A couple of months, I think,” Isabel answered. “I know he hypnotized her to help with the anxiety. Or so she said. After that, she changed.”
“Changed how?” Lauren pressed, her tone steady but sharp.
“She became obsessed with how the body reacts to psychological stress,” Isabel murmured.
“She’d always been brilliant, high IQ, top of her class, but Abilene had this morbid fascination, too.
And after those sessions with Dr. Graves, she became even more…
odd. She decided to major in criminal psychology.
She wanted to understand how trauma rewires people.
But then she fixated on one case in particular. ”
Jesse already knew the answer, thanks to those photos Griff had sent them. “Lauren’s abduction,” he supplied.
Isabel nodded. “She studied everything about it. Read every article, every report. She mapped out what you went through, Lauren. She wasn’t just interested, she was obsessed.
” Isabel’s voice dropped slightly, her manicured nails raking lightly against her arm, in that spot she’d touched before.
“I think Dr. Graves pushed her toward it. And I think it caused my stepsister to snap.”
She stopped, lowered her head and made a hoarse sob. Jesse didn’t see any actual tears spill down his cheek, but he reminded himself that not everyone cried over this sort of thing.
“Abilene likely couldn’t have managed to put all of this into motion by herself,” Jesse pointed out. “Do you think she had someone to help her?”
“Dr. Graves, of course,” she spat out without hesitation. “They’re both sick, and he should be punished for what he did to my stepsister.”
Jesse frowned again. She was putting on a show, but was it real? The way she kept touching her arm drew his attention, over and over.
That tattoo.
The matching one on Abilene’s body. The same one Nicky had.
A chill spread through Jesse’s chest.
“What’s on your arm, Isabel?” he asked, keeping his voice level.
Isabel’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
“Your arm.” He nodded toward it. “You keep touching it. Do you have a tattoo?”
Her lips parted, but she hesitated just a fraction of a second too long.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said smoothly. “And I don’t see how this is relevant.”
“Let me see,” Jesse said, his voice a quiet challenge.
Isabel sat perfectly still, her face an unreadable mask. Then, slowly, she picked up her purse and stood.
“This was a mistake,” she said, chin lifting. “I came to tell you what I know. But if this is the way you’re going to treat me, then I’m done here.”
Jesse didn’t say a word as he watched Isabel Markham stride out of the office, her heels clicking against the tile floor. Controlled. Composed. But she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted them to believe.
Lauren exhaled, low and sharp. “She was lying.”
“No question.” Jesse’s jaw tightened. “She damn near sprinted out of here the second I asked about the tattoo.”
Before Lauren could respond, Sheriff Hallie McQueen stepped in, her sharp eyes flicking toward the front door Isabel had just walked through. “She left in a hurry.”
Jesse dragged a hand down his face. “She gave us a story about Abilene being obsessed with Lauren’s case after seeing Dr. Graves for anxiety. She thinks Graves pushed her toward it, and that’s what made her snap.”
Hallie frowned. “Dr. Graves was Abilene’s doctor?”
“That’s what Isabel says,” Jesse confirmed. “And that’s something we need to get out of Graves.”
Hallie made a quick sound of agreement. “I’ll make sure I question him about that when he’s in interview.”
Jesse nodded, glancing at Lauren. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the door, her arms crossed tight, fingers pressing into her sides. Thinking. Processing.
And maybe wondering the same thing he was.
If Isabel wasn’t just hiding something.
If she was part of it.
Jesse was wondering the same thing as he saw two people coming into the station. Tim Reardon stepped inside. His wife, Belinda, clung to his arm, her face pale and drawn. Her hands were clasped together like she was holding herself together by sheer force of will.
Jesse exchanged a glance with Lauren, who straightened. Reardon’s icy exterior hadn’t cracked before, but now there was concern in his eyes.
“We need to talk,” Reardon insisted the moment Belinda and he were through the metal detector and in the bullpen. “Privately.”
Hallie was already moving. “Let’s take this to Lauren’s office.”
Jesse followed, studying Belinda as they settled inside the small room. She perched on the edge of the chair, her fingers twisting in her lap, while Reardon stood behind her like a protective wall.
Lauren got straight to the point. “Why are you here?”
Belinda kept her gaze down and pinned to her hands, which were trembling. “Uh, I know some things about your abduction.”
Jesse’s spine locked up. This was it. He caught Lauren’s glance, reading the same thought in her eyes. Was Belinda one of the others?
“Were you there?” Jesse asked, keeping his voice even. “In the bunker with Lauren?”
Belinda’s head snapped up, her eyes wide and haunted. “No.” She swallowed hard. “I was the one who killed the man who took her.”
The room went dead silent.
Jesse’s pulse pounded, and he barely registered the sharp breath Lauren took beside him.
“What did you just say?” Hallie asked, her voice calm while her expression was all cop.
Belinda’s throat bobbed as she looked at Lauren, her voice thin but steady. “I killed the man who abducted you.”