Page 4 of Scorched

“That’s the one.”

“What does she have to do with Breuer?”

“Her sister, Brenna, called a few minutes ago. Apparently, Alice Klaus, now Elise Johnson, settled in Breuer and hired on as a high school history teacher.”

A smile lifted the corners of Paul’s lips. He remembered her all right. Pretty blonde, killer husband. “She changed her name.” He nodded. “A good thing.”

“Yeah. Only someone’s found her.”

Paul tensed and sucked in his breath. “Found her or killed her?” He’d barely known the woman for more than a few days, but he remembered feeling regret. If thecircumstances had been different, she was someone he wouldn’t mind getting to know better.

Melissa shot a glance at Paul. “Found. She’s alive.”

Paul let the air out of his lungs and leaned back in his seat for the twenty-minute drive to the hill country outside San Antonio.

When they pulled onto Main Street in Breuer, Paul scanned the small town with a critical eye. White limestone buildings intermingled with old, German-style gingerbread houses. People smiled and waved to each other from the sidewalks and children played in their front yards. Paul would bet most residents didn’t even lock their doors at night.

A veritable nightmare if a killer ran loose in their midst.

“Here’s Highland Street.” Melissa turned left onto the street lined with gnarled live oaks whose branches shaded the curbs, giving the impression of a leafy arched bower instead of a city street.

Melisa parked in front of a yellow cottage with a three-foot-tall, white picket fence surrounding the yard, front and back. “How cute. Reminds me of my grandmother’s house in Wisconsin.”

Paul dropped down from the passenger side of the truck and pushed through the rickety gate. Before he got halfway to the house, two little boys burst through the front door and raced out into the yard.

“Luke, Brandon! Come back inside right now!” A beautiful woman with long blond hair flung the screendoor open and raced out onto the porch, a worried frown creasing her forehead. When she spied Paul, she stopped, her eyes widening. She pressed a hand to her mouth as tears bubbled up and spilled over.

Somewhere in her past life, she had to have been the high school beauty queen. She was so perfect in every way except the tears now pouring down her cheeks.

For a man who avoided crying females like the plague, Paul couldn’t resist moving forward and taking her into his arms. “Shh.” He smoothed her hair and spoke to her in a soothing tone. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“He’s supposed to be dead.” She pushed away to stare up into Paul’s eyes. Her jaw clenched, angry light refracting off her tears. “He’s supposed to be dead.”

CHAPTER 2

Elise clutchedhis shirt like she was grasping for purchase on the face of a drop-off. She felt like she had fallen over the edge of a cliff, straight into her past.

Just seeing Paul and Melissa made the memories of the nightmare all too vivid. These two talented FBI agents had been in Riverton and assisted in the investigation that ultimately identified the Dakota Strangler as Stan Klaus, Elise’s husband. During the evacuation of the flooded town of Riverton, Paul had been the one to help get her, the boys and her aging mother out of the evacuation center when the press converged on her.

The solid wall of Paul’s chest and the security of his arms triggered all the emotions she’d repressed. All the fear, desperation and disbelief rushed in and threatened to swamp her.

Elise had held it together for the boys, but now that help had arrived, sobs rose in her throat, and shepressed her mouth to his chest to keep from crying out and scaring the children. She needed to stay strong for the boys, but so far, she wasn’t doing a good job of it. Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs as she huddled in Paul’s arms, wanting to stay hidden from the world.

“Hey, boys,” Melissa said behind her. “Why don’t you show me that swing set I see in your backyard? Think I can swing on it?”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Brandon run around Paul’s side and stare up at the man, his eyes narrowed into tight slits. “Did you make my mother cry?”

“No, I didn’t.” Thankfully, Paul shielded Elise from her son’s view.

“Did you hurt her?” the boy demanded, his voice rising.

“No sir.”

Elise gulped back more tears and tried to collect herself enough to face her oldest son.

Brandon crossed his arms over his little chest. “Let my mother go.”

“It’s okay, Brandon. Paul’s a nice guy,” Elise said into Paul’s damp shirt, her sobs drying and turning into hiccups.

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