SEVEN
Michael grabbed a water bottle out of the refrigerator, opened it, and gulped down half the bottle, then leaned against the sink, trying to slow his racing heartbeat. He wanted to fight, and Dylan seemed to be the likely target. “You told me she likes to drive. I specifically remember—”
“Yeah, but you didn’t let me finish. I was trying to tell you she likes to drive, but if you value your life, don’t let her. You cut me off before I could warn you.”
Michael rubbed his brow. “Dear God, how did that woman ever get a license?”
Kate thought she should defend her sister. The problem was, she felt the same way Dylan and Michael did. “Isabel just needs a little more practice,” she said halfheartedly.
“I’m never riding with her again,” Dylan said. “And neither are you, sweetheart.”
“Where is my sister?” Kate asked.
“You didn’t do anything to her, did you?” Dylan asked. “Like lock her in the trunk?”
“She’s outside talking to Jordan and Noah,” Michael said. Glaring at his brother, he added, “I didn’t do anything to her except take the car keys.”
“Try to calm down before you talk to her,” Dylan suggested.
“I am calm,” he snapped. “And I don’t plan to talk to her. I’m staying as far away from her as possible.”
“She’s sensitive,” Kate said.
Michael snorted.
“She is,” Kate insisted. “And you watched the video. You know what she’s been through since she got off the plane. Give her a break.”
Dylan was trying to be sympathetic. God knows he’d been in Michael’s place. “Listen. You’re here now, and you’re in one piece, so take this as a win and move on.”
“It was god-awful.”
Dylan and Kate both nodded.
“Dylan, if you laugh I’m gonna put my fist through your face,” Michael muttered.
The door opened and Isabel walked in. She ran to Kate and hugged her, then hugged Dylan and kissed him on the cheek.
“How are you feeling?” Kate asked.
“I’m fine. Don’t look so worried, Kate. I’m okay. Finish what you’re doing,” she said, pointing to the laptop. She was hoping they were too busy to ask about the shooting.
But of course they did ask. They started out easy. She folded her arms and completely ignored Michael while she answered questions about her flight and her decision to stay at the hotel. Isabel thought she was being quite agreeable until they asked her about the shooting. Then she shut down.
“We’ll talk about the... incident later,” Kate told her.
“Now it’s an incident? Detective Samuel calls it ‘the event’ and Michael calls it my ‘bad experience.’ I guess ‘incident’ works.”
“What do you call it?” Dylan asked.
“A nightmare.”
Isabel was clearly rattled. She picked up a half-empty bottle of water from the table, then put it back. Kate got her a cold bottle from the refrigerator and handed it to her.
“Come sit down,” Kate suggested.
Isabel shook her head. She walked over to the island and stood there, facing Michael. She still refused to look at him until she got her temper under control.
“Did you hurt yourself?” Dylan asked.