Page 33 of Scorched

Elise’s left eyelid fluttered open. “That’s good.” She eased her eyelid closed and opened it again. “Better. Now the other.”

Paul repeated the routine on the other side until he emptied the bottle. “Feel like we got it all?”

“I think so. When I get home, I’ll get under the shower.”

“No, I’m taking you to an optometrist. You don’t mess with your eyesight.”

“I’ll be fine. I need to get home to my sons. I promise I’ll make an appointment tomorrow.” Elise pushed her damp hair out of her face and crossed the pavement to examine her car. The front windshield was shattered. She wouldn’t be driving it until she replaced the windshield. “What did I hit?”

Paul surveyed the car and the surrounding area. He knelt beside her back left tire, lifted a large red brick, and held it up, anger burning in his chest. “Did you see who threw it?”

Elise’s face blanched. “I was looking in the rearview mirror. All I saw was a shadow of the brick when it hit.”

Paul made a mental note of the street name and numbers to report to the sheriff and the wrecker service. If he knew who’d thrown the brick, he’d skip the sheriff altogether and perform a little vigilante justice himself. First, he had to get Elise home safely. “Come on. We’ll pick up the boys on the way to the optometrist.”

Elise shook her head, her lips twisting into a wry grin. “You really should run screaming from me. I’m beginning to think my life is jinxed.” Although she smiled, her voice cracked, and she sniffed.

His heart constricting inside his chest, Paul reached out and held her arms, staring down into watery blue eyes with black smudges beneath them where her mascara had run. He couldn’t recall anyone morebeautiful. “You’re okay.” Then he bent to brush her lips with his.

Her eyes widened and her fingers rose to touch where his lips had been. “Please don’t do that again.”

“I’m sorry. There’s something about you that I can’t seem to resist.” When he bent to kiss her again, she pressed her hands against his chest, stopping him.

“Remember? I’m the wife of a serial killer.”

“No, as you reminded me, you’re Elise Johnson.” He’d already stepped way over the line of FBI agent and protected citizen, so he held off. As much as he wanted to kiss her again, it had to be her choice.

The hands on his chest bunched in the fabric of his shirt and pulled him down until his lips met hers. “I know I’m going to regret this, but...” She pressed her lips to his, her tongue sweeping past his teeth to tangle with his.

A bright yellow school bus eased around their parked cars.

As though just remembering where she was, Elise straightened, her eyes going wide. “I must be out of my mind.”

“Because you kissed me?”

“I didn’t kiss you, you kissed me.”

“No, sweet Elise, you kissed me.”

She pressed her fingers to her lips and stared at the bus, thinking of all the reasons she shouldn’t be kissing Paul and not caring about even one of them at that moment. A sea of faces peered through the glasswindows of the school bus at her and the wrecked car. Among the faces, a familiar one stood out.

Brandon.

Sometimes, being a mom was tough. Especially when you wanted to be yourself. “We have to get going.” She stepped out of Paul’s arms and reached inside her car for her purse and the stack of papers that needed grading. “Think the car will be all right if we leave it here?”

“I’ll get a wrecker to pick it up. There’s plenty of room for other cars to go around in the meantime.” Paul held open the passenger seat door to his truck.

Once she’d buckled herself into the leather seat, Elise scrubbed at the black under her eyes, while Paul rounded the hood of the pickup and slipped in beside her. “Do you think whoever wrote the note also threw the brick?”

Paul frowned. “No.”

Elise waited for more, but it wasn’t forthcoming. “No?”

“Whoever is behind the murder victim and the missing girl wouldn’t be so sloppy as to throw a brick and risk being seen.” Paul shifted into gear and pulled around the stranded car, picking up speed to catch the bus.

Paul placed a call to Sheriff Engel while Elise called her insurance company, each reporting the damage.

When they reached Highland Street, the bus had just pulled away from the bus stop. Brandon walked towardthe house, his shoulders slumped. Luke dragged his backpack behind him by one of the loose straps.

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