Page 7 of Scorched

“Technically, we don’t have a case,” Melissa said. “No one’s been hurt.”

“Yet. That’s the whole idea. I don’t want anyone elsehurt by my husband or whoever sent this. I don’t want to be responsible for any more murders.”

Paul lifted one of Elise’s hands. “Elise, your husband murdered those women, not you.”

She pulled her hand from Paul’s grasp. “I should have seen through those late-night service calls.” She threw her arms in the air. “At the very least, I should have suspectedsomething. Good God, I lived with the man. The manipulative, verbally abusive, domineering son of a?—”

“You weren’t the only one who trusted him. He had an entire community snowed.” Melissa moved up beside Paul. “In most cases involving serial killers, the people closest to them never saw it coming.”

Elise rolled her eyes, a shaky laugh erupting from her throat. “Oh, that makes me feel so much better about the women my husband killed.”

“I know it’s not much. But it took us a while to figure him out as well.” Melissa gave her a crooked smile. “Hell, we were almost too late to save your sis?—”

“Mel, let me handle this,” Paul said.

Melissa’s face turned pink, and she backed away. “Yeah, maybe you should.”

Elise’s frown returned. “Look, I don’t want either of you to feel like you’re walking on eggshells around me. I don’t need people feeling sorry for me any more than I want their blame for the deaths. After two years, I’ve managed to start over and put the horror behind me. Or so I thought. Will I ever be free of Stan Klaus?”

Melissa touched her arm. “Yes. At least you should be free of him. Like you said, he’s supposed to be dead.”

“Elise,” Paul said, “for now, we’re going to do some checking without opening a case. The local police would be handling this one if we were to turn it in, which we might do soon if we need their help.”

“I’d rather the locals didn’t know any more than they have to,” Elise said. “We have to live here. I can’t keep uprooting my children and moving every time someone recognizes me.”

“Or threatens you and your children,” Paul added.

Her face blanched. She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “If my husband is still alive, he’ll come after his sons. I won’t let him have them. I swear I’ll kill the monster first.”

Paul and Melissarode back to San Antonio in silence, with Paul immersed in his memories of North Dakota and the first contact he’d had with Alice Klaus. He remembered thinking how unfair life was to dump this horrific burden on such a nice woman and her kids. He’d gone to the evacuation shelter and played with Brandon and Luke to help her out and give her a break while her hometown flooded, and her life fell apart.

She’d been strong then, but now he recognized her behavior as one of a person in shock and denial. The Texas sunshine had done her good, tanning her palenorthern skin. She was too young to be widowed and too pretty to live alone. Elise Johnson needed a man around to run interference for her and provide some kind of protection. Either that or a gun.

The sound of little boys shouting in the backyard had grounded Paul in Elise’s reality. A gun in the house wasn’t a good idea either. Not with curious boys on the loose.

Stan had set fire to the house he supposedly died in. When Paul, Melissa, Nick and Brenna left the house, the river had already flooded the road, and the house had been a raging inferno. By the time they’d been able to return, the house had been swept away in the floodwaters. Stan’s vehicle had been found along the banks of the Red River, five miles south of Riverton. Empty.

Had Stan Klaus survived? If so, why had he showed up now? Why not sooner?

Paul turned to Melissa. “Until we get something solid to go on, I want this case kept between you and me.”

“You’re the boss.” Melissa gave him a mock salute. “It really is hard calling you boss.”

“You didn’t have to take this assignment, you know. And if you recall, I tried to talk you out of it.”

“And miss my one and only opportunity to transfer to Texas?” She gunned the accelerator of her cherry-red F150 four-wheel drive pickup. “I’d take a job with the devil himself just to leave the snow behind.”

At 7:00 p.m., Paul entered the Bureau building in SanAntonio and headed for his office, Melissa close on his heels.

As they passed Special Agent Trevor Cain’s desk, the agent looked up from his conversation on the telephone. His eyes widened and he smiled up at them. “Muy bien. Adios,” he said into the receiver and hung up. “Hey, Bradley, Fletch. Where’ve you been?” Cain rose from his desk and followed them down the hall.

“Cain.” Paul acknowledged the man with a nod before he entered his office.

“You’re pulling a late night,” Melissa commented, standing in the door. “Still working on those applicant background investigations?”

“Yeah.” Trevor Cain moved as if to enter, but Mel wasn’t in a hurry to make way. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorjamb, effectively blocking his entrance.

Thank goodness Mel had decided to transfer to San Antonio with Paul. She understood him, could read him like only a close friend could. Paul smothered a grin.

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