Page 24 of Outlaw Ridge: Jesse
“My staff. My housekeeper and assistant,” she clarified, brushing an invisible piece of lint from her designer slacks. “They’re not used to police visits, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Jesse leaned back, stretching out his legs. “You seem pretty concerned about your reputation.”
Isabel gave him a sharp look. “That’s how I was raised, Deputy McCain. My mother is very particular about image. My father didn’t make that easy for her, what with their divorce and his remarrying several times. She works very hard not to allow him to overshadow her name and mine.”
Jesse nodded slowly. He’d dealt with families like hers before. Old money, strict expectations, the kind that cared more about appearances than the people under their roof.
“Let me guess,” Lauren said. “Even your late husband was your mother’s choice?”
Isabel’s lips pursed. “Harrison was…approved of,” she admitted. “It was a good match. Stable. Predictable.”
“And now?” Jesse pressed.
“Now that he’s passed away, I make my own choices,” she said. “Though discretion is still important because I love my mother and don’t want to embarrass her and cause any gossip. I’ve been seeing someone,” she added after a short pause. “Someone in my social circle who wouldn’t exactly approve of a scandal.”
Jesse arched a brow. “He probably won’t approve of your stepsister killing herself either.”
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?”
