Page 15 of Scorched (Killer #2)

Paul studied him. He didn’t appear to be nervous about an FBI agent showing up. If he’d had anything to do with his girlfriend’s disappearance, he wasn’t giving any signs via body language.

“You know Mary Alice Fenton?” Paul asked.

The cop stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah, why? ”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Last night around eleven o’clock.” His eyes widened. “Is Mary okay? What’s this all about?”

Paul hadn’t planned to question the boyfriend until the sheriff arrived, but he was here, and the opportunity had presented itself. “Her apartment door was open this morning. The manager got concerned and called her office. She didn’t show up for work today. Did she say anything to you about that?”

Officer West shoved a hand through his hair. “Jesus. No. No, she didn’t say anything about missing work.” He looked around. “I should go check on her.”

“I just came from Miss Fenton’s apartment. The Kendall County sheriff is there now, waiting for state crime scene investigators. Do you know if Miss Fenton has a cell phone?”

“Yeah, she does.” Officer West pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched one of the numbers, his expression hopeful.

Paul waited, quietly.

After a long minute, the younger man hit the off button, his body sagging. “Her voicemail picked up.”

If the cell phone had been in the apartment, the sheriff would have found it by now. But why would she leave her apartment with her cell phone and not her purse or keys?

“I really should go over to her place.”

Paul shook his head. “They wouldn’t let you in and she’s not there.” His gut told him the police officer had nothing to do with his girlfriend’s disappearance, but he wasn’t ruling anything out yet.

Officer West held out his hands. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t do nothing.”

“You can start by getting on the phone with all your mutual friends. See if anyone has seen her.” Paul pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to the officer. “If you hear anything at all, give me a call or call the sheriff.”

“I will.” Officer West tucked the card into his pocket and stared at the fence the young punk had jumped.

Paul would bet he wasn’t seeing the kid or the fence.

The school bell rang. Paul glanced at his watch. Elise was getting off work now. He could meet her at her classroom and escort her home. First, he’d better move his car out of the middle of the road before the stampede of teenagers exited campus.

When he passed through the main entrance, Elise was leaving the office, a tissue clutched in her hand and her eyes red-rimmed. When she spotted him, she hurried toward him.

Paul opened his arms, and she fell into them.

“Ewww, Ms. Johnson.” A passing student snickered, the smirk on his face freezing when Paul glared at him.

Elise pushed Paul to arms length and then stepped away. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a really bad day.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

She gave him a half smile. “Later. I need to get home to my boys. ”

“I’ll take you.”

“No, I need my car. I like to have my own transportation. You can’t be playing chauffeur for me. You have a job.”

“You need protection.”

“Yeah, that and a bucket of money.” She touched his arm. “Please. I need to do things on my own. I’ll be careful.”

Paul didn’t like letting her out of his sight, but she was right. He had work to do and so did she. As long as he provided protection at night, she ought to be okay. The two women who’d disappeared had done so after dark, as far as he could ascertain.

“Okay. I’ll meet you at your place this evening. Don’t open your door for anyone and keep a close eye on the boys.”

“I won’t and I will.” She grinned. “Later?” She turned to go back to her classroom, stopped and came back to the office. “Will you do me a big favor?”

When she looked up at him with those big blue eyes, he would have walked off a cliff for her. “Anything.”

“This may sound stupid, but I forgot to check my mailbox in the office.” Elise remembered how the Dakota Strangler left messages every time he killed another woman. Maybe subconsciously, she’d avoided her mailbox because she didn’t want to find another note. Another note meant another death.

“You want me to check it?” Paul’s voice penetrated her musings .

Elise shook off the morbid worries and straightened her shoulders. “No, no. I’ll do it, but will you wait until I do...just in case?”

“I’ll be right here.”

Elise walked back into the administrative office, her footsteps dragging. If another note showed up in her box from whoever was tormenting her, she didn’t know what she’d do.

Without looking at her box, she turned to the secretary. “Becky, did you see who put the note in my box the day before yesterday, by chance?”

The slightly plump and perky secretary tipped her head to the side. “No, I don’t recall seeing who left it. I think it might have been there before I came in that morning. Why?”

“No reason.”

“Wasn’t there a name on it?” Becky asked.

“No.”

The secretary’s eyes widened, and a smile blossomed on her face. “A secret admirer?” She clapped her hands together. “How sweet.”

Elise almost burst out laughing, but she was afraid her laughter would turn to tears all too easily. “Uh, no. Not a secret admirer.”

Becky’s smile slipped. “Oh.”

To avoid further questions, Elise braced herself and turned toward her box. An envelope lay tilted to the left .

Her hand shook as she reached for it. On the front, written in blue ink, were the words Ms. Johnson’s insurance forms .

All the air left Elise’s lungs in a rush and she dragged in more, a nervous giggle rising to the top of her throat. All that worry for nothing. Elise took another steadying breath and turned a smile toward Becky. “See you tomorrow.”

“Those insurance forms are due back in the office by Friday,” Becky called out.

Outside, Paul’s gaze questioned her without a word being spoken.

She smiled. “Just insurance papers.” Tucking the envelope inside her purse, she headed for the door, glad Paul had met her at school. Her day hadn’t been the best, but with a hunky agent spending the night at her house, things were looking up.

Paul inspected her car inside and out before he opened the door for her.

Elise didn’t question him, but a chill slithered down her back.

What if someone had tampered with it while it sat in the school parking lot overnight?

She really should have brought it home yesterday.

Elise shrugged. Anyone could just as easily tamper with it outside her home.

She’d had the car for two years, but getting inside it now gave her no comfort.

“I’ll see you home, then I need to head to the office for a couple hours to check in.”

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” Elise insisted, feeling more and more like a burden. “I hate to be such a problem.”

He touched a finger to her lips, startling her into silence.

“Ms. Johnson, you are not the problem.” He winked and stepped away, closing her door firmly between them.

She sat for a moment, her tongue sliding across her lips, the salty taste of his finger giving her entirely different tingles than the scary ones of earlier.

Get a grip, girl . You’re not on the market . A cold slap of reality hit her. She didn’t need to get involved now or ever. All her concentration should be on raising her sons and keeping them safe.

With the little pep talk firmly in mind, she shifted into Drive and blended into the line of cars filled with teens and their parents eager to get away from the school and back home.

Once off campus, she headed for Highland Street, cutting through the back roads. Paul followed.

A red light caught him. Without a good place to pull off the road, Elise continued toward home, turning left at the next intersection. She still couldn’t see Paul and slowed. No one was behind her, so she slowed even more until she was almost at a standstill.

As she peered into her rearview mirror a dark object sailed into her peripheral vision.

Something smashed into the front windshield.

Elise screamed and flung one of her hands up to protect her face.

Glass shattered, tiny shards projecting through the air.

Elise slammed her foot to the break and squeezed her eyes shut.

Too late. Little slivers of glass prickled behind her eyelids. Afraid to open her eyes and unable to move, she sat frozen in her seat, her heart hammering in her chest.