Page 62 of Chilled

Alice’s fork clattered to her plate, and her face blanched. “Deborah Gomez and Willa Stinson?”

“You know them?” Brenna touched her sister’s arm.

“Yes, I do.” Alice pressed a hand to her mouth. “They sat a few pews over from us in church. Dr. Drummond was in my Sunday school class. And come to think of it, Michelle Carmichael was a member of the congregation as well, although she didn’t come as often because of her work.”

“You knew all of them?”

“Yes. I worked with Deborah and Willa on the annual charity auction last spring.” Alice’s brows knit together. “Are they dead?”

Brenna shook her head. “We don’t know. We haven’t found bodies yet.”

“But...you think you will.” Alice stood, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “I need to call someone.”

Seeing her sister’s reaction to the news made Brenna’s stomach clench. She set her fork aside and stood, the cake forgotten. “I’m sorry, Alice. I didn’t know you were friends.”

“We’re not; we were more like acquaintances.” She shook her head again. “Wow, this is getting scary. So close to home.”

“Are you okay?” Brenna put an arm around her sister’s waist.

“I’m okay. Shocked, but okay.” Alice pulled herself up straight. “Do you mind? I feel like I ought to call the pastor or someone. Or maybe the prayer group.”

“It’s okay. Agent Tarver and I have to get back to work, anyway,” Brenna said, sorry she’d even shared the information with Alice. Had she known she’d be so shocked, she’d have waited until another time. As it was, her appetite was spoiled for the beautiful cake, and from Nick’s expression, so was his.

“You ready to go?” she asked him.

“Absolutely.”

Alice, her socially conscious sister, walked out of the room without saying goodbye, as if Brenna and Nick had already left the house.

“Remind me not to talk shop at the dinner table,” Nick said as he slipped into his black leather jacket.

“Me, too.”

“What say we drop by the station before we head to the hotel?”

“I’m game.” Anything to delay being in a hotel suite alone with Agent Tarver.

The trip to the station was accomplished in silence, with Brenna lost in her thoughts.

Most of the victims were members of Alice’s church. Was Robin Rutledge also a member? Could the killer be someone in their church?

Chief Burkholder met them at the door to the war room, his face as gray as the few hairs left on his head. “I’m glad you’re here. We found another body.”

Brenna’s heart bumped against her chest. “Where?”

“A farmer down by the river went out to check his fields because of the flooding and found a body.”

“Gomez?” Brenna asked. “Carmichael?”

The older man shook his head. “Stinson.”

CHAPTER 15

Floodlights shonedown on Willa Stinson’s body as it lay on its side in the slush. She’d been dumped behind a huge pile of dirt and snow on the edge of Olaf Oland’s farm field half a mile away from the swollen Red River. Her naked body was tied at the ankles and wrists with Ethernet cable just like Dr. Drummond.

The difference in this killing was that instead of strangling her to death, the murderer had chosen to asphyxiate her. Her horror-filled face was clearly visible through the clear plastic bag tied over her head.

Brenna had seen her share of murders, some of them strangulations, but never had she seen the victim’s face frozen in such a frightening expression as Willa Stinson’s.

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