Page 17 of Scorched

Smithson’s attention reverted to the victim. “Asphyxiation. Most probably, someone came at her from behind and hooked an arm around her neck. She put up a fight. See the way her fingernails are broken off? She was found naked with an Ethernet cable securing herhands behind her back and tied around her ankles. But she was dead before he bound her.”

“Isn’t that overkill?” Mel said.

Paul cringed at her poor choice of words, but the killer had made his point. He was either Stan Klaus or a copycat. Newspapers around the country had printed stories detailing the Dakota Strangler’s methods. A book on serial killers had an entire chapter dedicated to him. Anyone with a sick mind could copy his methods.

What they shouldn’t be able to do was find his wife, Alice Klaus.

Unless one of the children had unintentionally let the secret leak out. Brandon was old enough to remember his real last name. Luke had been three when his father disappeared; he probably didn’t even remember the man.

Paul made a mental note to ask Brandon. Not that he expected the boy to open up to him. For some reason, Brandon viewed Paul as a threat to his mother.

Paul had little experience with children, but how hard could it be to get the boy to warm up to him? He’d just turn up the old Fletcher charm, as Mel called it. After his visit with the coroner, he’d stop by his apartment and pack an overnight bag.

He wasn’t taking no for an answer from Elise. She needed protection. Whether the killer was Stan or a copycat, he definitely had something in mind for Elise Johnson.

CHAPTER 5

Elise threwherself into the normal routine of homework with the boys, grading papers and then fixing dinner for her small family. The work should have helped her to calm down after Paul’s revelation and pending return.

But she couldn’t help what her mind kept conjuring. A woman floating in the Guadalupe, blond hair streaming out beside her, hands and feet tied in Ethernet cable. Every time the image surfaced, a cool chill she couldn’t attribute to the new air-conditioning shook Elise’s body.

When she finally dropped into her chair at the dinner table to eat the boys’ favorite, mac and cheese, her shoulders were stiff and her appetite nonexistent. She forced a smile, determined to act like normal. “How was your day, Luke?”

Luke gave her a cheesy grin and spoke around thefood in his mouth. “I got four stars today for helping clean the classroom.”

“Very good, Luke. I’m sure Mrs. Dobratka was impressed with your thoughtfulness.”

He nodded, stuffing another heaping forkful of orangey macaroni into his mouth, half of it falling back to his plate.

“Smaller bites, big guy.” Elise turned to Brandon. He’d been quiet since he’d gotten off the bus, following her around the small house, if not physically, then with his penetrating gaze. Sometimes, she thought he could see more into situations than an eight-year-old should.

“How about you, Brandon? How was your day? Did Ms. Tingle give you a spelling test today?” She placed a small bite in her mouth and pretended enjoyment.

Her oldest son set his fork beside his plate and gave her a narrow stare. “Why was that man here again?”

Glad for the little bit of food in her mouth, Elise chewed slowly before answering. “Paul is an old friend. He didn’t know we lived here until yesterday. I guess he just wanted to come visit.”

Brandon lifted his fork and stabbed at the food on his plate. “I don’t like him.”

“Why?”

“He made you cry.” The boy’s brows drew together in a fierce frown.

It was times like these when he looked most like his father. Elise prayed that he wouldn’t take after the man. “I told you, I cried because I was happy to see him.” Thiswas only a partial lie. She had cried because she was scared out of her mind, but she’d been delighted to see Paul when he’d shown up yesterday. Maybe a little too glad. He’d been her pillar of strength when she’d really needed him. He was a man any girl could easily fall in love with. Any girl but her. She couldn’t trust her instincts.

“Isn’t he the man from where we used to live?”

Brandon’s words broke into Elise’s thoughts, and she set her fork down, fighting back a jolt of nervous tension. Since they’d left North Dakota, she hadn’t talked with the boys about anything that had happened. She’d only told them that their father had died and that they were going to start a new life with new names.

Brandon hadn’t asked questions at the time. If Elise wasn’t mistaken, her oldest son seemed relieved that he didn’t have to suffer his father’s abuse. The man had leaned toward obsessive-compulsive behavior in the way he’d demanded perfection from his boys. They hadn’t been allowed to run and play in their own home. Once free of his father, Brandon had taken a long time to loosen up and remember that he was a kid.

Looking at the young man across from her, Elise recognized the same little boy who’d sat straight in his chair while his father blasted him for dropping his fork on the floor.

Elise had tried to interfere with the harsh lectures once and had her face slapped so hard she’d hit the wall behind her. Every time she stepped in the middle, theirpunishment became harsher, and Brandon became more resentful.

How much did Brandon remember? And how much talk had he overheard when they’d been in the evacuation shelter? Did he know his father had been a killer?

“Yes. We knew Paul from where we used to live.” She hoped his questions would end there. “Want some more?” Elise jumped to her feet and grabbed the pan from the stove.

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