Fuck psychology. A part of Archer wanted to remind Isobel that no, this wasn't some casual little game that her mind had made up to protect itself. A part of him wanted to show her reality, to remind her what they were dealing with. But the louder, more pushy part of him resigned to the fact that this was helping her. And really, he had only wanted to help.
"Yes," he said softly. "There is." Without another word, he walked into the bedroom and came out with the bag containing the body. It was large and oddly shaped, forcing him to drag it along the ground with effort. He held onto the body's ankles through the bags, crouching over it as he glanced to the door. "Would you open the door, please?"