Chapter Twenty #2
Isabel snorted. “No. My gardener did. I paid Clyde to take Abilene and Nicky. Told him to put that tattoo on them so the cops would think the old abductor had returned. It was all about misdirection.” Her lips curled into a mocking smile.
“It was Clyde who stole Reardon’s phone, set him up to take the fall. ”
“Your gardener, not Reggie,” Lauren murmured.
“No, Clyde told me that Reggie wouldn’t follow orders.
He was only there to take the fall. Then, the bastard gets killed, and Clyde decides he wants out so I have to kill him.
Those two sonsofbitches were going to hang me out to dry.
So, I took matters into my hands.” Isabel spat out the words, punctuating each one of them. “I had to save myself again.”
Lauren felt like the ground shifted beneath her feet. All the threads they’d been pulling, all the pieces they thought fit together—it had been Isabel all along, weaving her own twisted narrative.
“You’re a monster,” Lauren whispered, the words falling like a stone between them.
Isabel didn’t flinch. She just smiled. “I’m a survivor. I’ll get out of this, you’ll see.”
Jesse let out a short, sharp laugh, his grip on her tightening.
“Doubt that,” he shot back, his voice dripping with contempt.
“No snobby family or circle of friends can help you out of this one. You’ll be a pariah—a walking reminder that crime doesn’t pay.
A life lesson that people whisper about when they want to scare their kids straight. ”
Isabel’s face twisted with rage. She let out a feral howl and tried to jerk free from Jesse’s grip, her whole body straining against the restraints. But Jesse didn’t budge. His hold was like iron, and Isabel’s fury only made him grip her tighter.
The wail of sirens grew louder, cutting through the night, and Lauren turned her head just as a police cruiser rounded the wreckage of Jesse’s burning truck. The headlights sliced through the smoke, illuminating the grim scene in the harsh, white light.
The cruiser screeched to a stop in front of them, dust and ash swirling around its tires.
The driver’s door flew open, and Griff stepped out, his face hard and set, his hand resting instinctively on the grip of his holstered weapon as he took in the sight of them—Jesse restraining a furious, handcuffed Isabel, and Lauren standing with her gun still clenched tightly in her hand.
Griff’s eyes flicked from Jesse to Lauren, then to Isabel, his jaw tightening as he put the pieces together without a word.
“Well,” Griff muttered, stepping closer, his gaze sweeping over the burning wreckage, the scattered debris, and the blood-smeared dirt.
“Looks like I missed one hell of a party.”
Jesse didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah,” he said flatly, tightening his grip on Isabel’s arm. “And Isabel here has had a lot to say.”
At that, Jesse’s eyes flicked to Lauren, a quick glance, but she saw it—the concern tucked behind the hard set of his jaw, the quiet question in his gaze. Are you okay?
Lauren gave a small nod, forcing her features to stay neutral, her spine straight. But inside, her chest felt hollow, her heart pounding with the weight of what had just happened. The fact that Isabel, of all people, had been the one pulling the strings behind this nightmare.
She couldn’t let it show. Not now. Not in front of Isabel.
Griff popped the back door of the cruiser open, and Jesse shoved Isabel inside with little patience, her restrained hands bumping against the seat as she scowled.
Jesse slid in right after her, boxing her in.
Lauren hesitated for half a second before climbing in on the other side, her body tense, every nerve on edge with Isabel wedged between them.
Griff shut the door, and the space inside the cruiser suddenly felt way too small, too close. The faint scent of smoke clung to Lauren’s clothes, mixing with the metallic tang of adrenaline still lingering on her tongue.
Griff started the engine, pulling away from the burning wreckage. The only sound was the hum of the tires on the road and the occasional soft click from Jesse adjusting his grip, his fingers resting near his holstered weapon—just in case.
Isabel sat rigid, her jaw clenched, but her eyes darted between them, dark and unrepentant.
Considering Isabel’s belligerent attitude, Lauren didn’t expect her to answer any more questions.
But she had to try. She needed the whole picture, and as twisted as it was, Isabel might be the only one who could give her that.
“What happened to the third woman in the bunker with us?” Lauren asked.
Isabel let out an exaggerated huff, rolling her eyes like it was an inconvenience to even be asked. “She was with me,” she said flatly, her voice dripping with disdain. “Melissa Waterstone. She’d sneaked out with me that night, and we were taken together.”
Lauren’s breath hitched, but she kept her face neutral. Melissa. A name to the faceless voice that had haunted her memories for years.
“She made it out?” Lauren pressed, her voice quieter now, braced for whatever answer would come next.
Isabel shrugged, her lips curling into that smug, careless grin.
“Yeah. We both did. Reggie went after you, remember? That’s when we escaped.
But she wasn’t like me. Couldn’t handle it.
She freaked out, didn’t know how to shut it down, to keep it hidden.
” Isabel snorted, like it was some joke only she found funny.
“She didn’t want the world to know she’d been a victim.
So, she disappeared. Changed her name, moved out of state. Haven’t seen her since.”
Lauren stared straight ahead, her hands curled into fists against her thighs. The ache in her chest grew heavier, not from Isabel’s words, but from the callous way she spoke them—like none of it mattered. Like Melissa didn’t matter.
But she did.
They all did.
And Lauren wasn’t going to let Isabel’s cruelty erase that.
“Why Nicky?” Lauren pressed. “Why take her?”
“I’m not sure why Clyde chose her. I told him to find someone, and he did.
” Isabel huffed. “Well, he did until he chickened out before the plan was finished. If he’d just done what he was told, we wouldn’t be here right now.
I wouldn’t be here right now,” she emphasized.
“And the two of you would be dead. Silenced for good. No more digging into my past. No more questioning my every motive, my every move.”
The silence settled throughout the cruiser, and just ahead Lauren saw the lights from town. Isabel must have seen them too because she cursed.
“You two are so far beneath me,” Isabel spat out.
“Right,” Jesse remarked, and Lauren could tell from his tone that he wasn’t going to tone down his venom. Or his sarcasm. “You are so above us. You showed everyone. You didn’t change your name. You didn’t run and hide.”
Lauren could feel the anger simmering just beneath his calm exterior, the same rage she felt clawing at her own chest.
Jesse’s jaw tightened as he leaned slightly toward Isabel, his eyes hard. “No, you just got your gardener to kidnap Abilene and Nicky, outright kill Nicky, and scare Abilene into killing herself. Real brave, Isabel.”
Isabel didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. She just shrugged, the casual gesture making Lauren’s stomach twist with disgust.
“It was about getting justice,” Isabel said, as if that explained everything. “Reggie would’ve gotten the blame, and he would’ve finally been punished for what he did sixteen years ago.”
Lauren’s breath caught, her fingers tightening into fists in her lap. Justice? That word didn’t belong in Isabel’s mouth. Not after everything she’d done. Not after all the lives she’d destroyed.
“That’s not justice,” Lauren whispered, her voice low but fierce, the words slipping out before she could stop them. “That’s just you trying to rewrite your story—to control it. But you’re not the survivor you think you are, Isabel. You’re just another monster.”
Isabel didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. The smug curve of her lips said it all.
But Lauren knew one thing for certain—Isabel wasn’t in control anymore.
The cruiser rolled to a stop in front of the Outlaw Ridge Police Station, and Lauren spotted Hallie.
The sheriff was already outside, waiting near the entrance, her stance solid, arms crossed over her chest, her expression all cop.
As Griff killed the engine, Hallie stepped forward, her sharp gaze flicking between Lauren, Jesse, and Isabel, who sat cuffed between them, smugness etched into every line of her face.
Jesse opened the door and pulled Isabel out with no gentleness, gripping her arm tightly as if letting go would give Isabel even the smallest victory.
Lauren slid out right after him, her feet feeling heavier than they should, like the weight of everything they’d been through had settled deep in her bones.
“I’ll handle the arrest,” Hallie offered, glancing at Lauren and Jesse again. “You two look as if you could use some downtime.”
Lauren hesitated, the words caught in her throat. But then she spoke, her voice low but firm. “No. I want to do it.”
Hallie studied her for a beat, then gave a small nod, stepping back to give her space.
Lauren stepped closer to Isabel, her heart pounding—not with fear, but with something else. Finality. This was it. The moment that would mark the end of the nightmare that had haunted her for sixteen years.
She met Isabel’s eyes, those cold, defiant eyes that had once been filled with secrets Lauren never saw coming.
“You’re under arrest,” Lauren said, her voice strong, the words cutting through the night air like a blade. “For kidnapping, conspiracy to commit murder, and the deaths of Abilene Joyce and Nicky Holden.”
Lauren took hold of Isabel’s arm and got the woman moving. Inside, where she’d be locked away in a cell.
The nightmare wasn’t gone. But it was over.
It was finally over.