Elise pushed away from the warmth of Paul’s arms and squatted next to Brandon, gathering him close. Luke edged in on the hug, his little face creased in a frown to match his brother’s.
Melissa lifted him into her arms. “Come here, little man.”
Elise’s lack of control over her emotions made her sons uneasy. Both boys needed reassurance as much as she did, if not more. She was the adult. Adults must be strong. Then why the hell did she feel like she was falling apart? “It’s okay, Brandon. Paul’s not hurting me.” She scrubbed at the tears on her cheeks and pushed her hair back from her forehead. “I’m okay. I was crying because I was so happy to see Paul and Melissa. Do you remember them?”
In the circle of his mother’s arms, Brandon glared from Paul to Melissa, his gaze returning to Paul as if he expected Paul to make another move on his mother.
Elise had never told Brandon why his father had died in a fire or that he was a bad man. She had told him that he was now the man of the house and it was up to him to help her. He’d taken his responsibilities seriously over the past two years, sometimes forgetting it was okay to be an eight-year-old boy.
Kendall Laughlin pulled up beside the picket fence on her bicycle and braked to a halt. “Hi, Ms. Johnson. Hi, Luke. Yo, Brandon.”
Luke squirmed in Melissa’s arms. “Kenny!” Melissa set the child on his feet and he was off like a shot and through the gate. “I have a bike now. You wanna see?” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the gate.
Kendall laughed and smiled down at the six-year-old. “Let me get off mine first.” She shot a curious look at Elise. “Is everything okay?”
Elise stood, her hand lingering on Brandon’s shoulder. “Yes, Kendall, everything’s okay.” My world is catching up to me and my killer husband might be alive, but everything’s just fine and dandy. She attempted a smile that turned into a grimace. “Kendall, could you do me a big favor?”
“Sure.” She climbed off her bike and rolled it into the yard.
“Could you watch the boys for a few minutes while I talk to…my old friends, Paul and Melissa?” And please don’t ask too many questions. Her students couldn’t know about her past. Her principal couldn’t know or her peaceful life would be shattered. Who wanted the wife of a serial killer teaching children in their school? Elise had never hurt another human in her life. But her husband had killed five people that she knew of.
“I’d love to. Luke and I are old friends already. Aren’t we, buddy?” She ruffled the boy’s hair.
Luke jumped up and down. “Come see my new bike.”
Brandon stuck by Elise’s side, his hand creeping into hers. “I don’t want to play.”
“Go with Kendall. I promise, everything’s okay.” She stared down into her son’s eyes. “As the man of the house, you need to help me keep an eye on your brother.”
His face scrunched into a fierce pout and he glared again at Paul. “Kendall can watch him.”
“She doesn’t know all his hiding places.” She let go of his hand. “You do. So it’s up to you to keep your brother safe and in the yard. Neither one of you is to leave the yard, understand?”
Brandon nodded.
She patted his shoulder instead of bending down to hug him close. He wouldn’t appreciate being treated like a child in front of the other adults. “I need a few minutes to talk to Mr. Fletcher and Ms. Bradley, alone.”
“Come on, Brandon,” Luke called out. “You can show Kenny your new bike, too.” With Kendall’s hand clutched in his, Elise’s youngest son tugged the teen across the yard, grabbed his brother’s hand and headed for the back.
Brandon pulled loose of Luke’s grip and gave his mother one last look as if to say, Are you sure?
Elise nodded, a reassuring smile plastered to her face. “Go on, honey. We’ll be in the house.”
Dragging his feet, Brandon followed Luke and Kendall around the side of the house to the shed where the bicycles were stored.
Paul’s gaze followed the boys. When they were out of sight, he turned to Elise. “Want to show me the note?”
The mention of the note set her heart racing again. If she could she’d have burned it and scattered the ashes to the winds, as if by doing so, her troubles would blow away. “It’s in the house.”
She led the way into the living room, taking no pleasure in all the warm and colorful furnishings that were so different from the Spartan look Stan had preferred. The note had turned her happy and sunny home sinister, a place where evil lurked, waiting to pounce. She crossed to the kitchen and glanced out the window.
Brandon and Luke had their bicycles out of the shed. Kendall smiled and laughed with the boys, admiring their new wheels.
Elise pulled the letter out of her purse and held it out for Paul to see. “I don’t know what to make of it, but I’ll tell you…it has me scared.”
Paul pulled a rubber glove from his hip pocket and stretched it over his large, capable hand before he took the note from her. He turned it over, inspecting the outside of the envelope. “Where did you find it?”
“It was in my mailbox cubby at school today.” Elise spun away and paced across the ceramic kitchen tiles. This was her home, a place where she could make new friends and her boys could grow up unencumbered by their father’s crimes. Fear turned to anger and she marched back across the tile to face the two agents. “Tell me, guys. What really happened to Stan? Did he, or did he not die in that fire?”
Elise’s blue eyes blazed, the anger a welcome change from the defeated and frightened young woman of a moment ago. Paul remembered the shock and disbelief in her face after she’d learned what her husband had done two years ago.
She’d suffered through the stares and whispers of the people she’d sat beside in church for years. They’d shunned her as if she’d been the one to kill those innocent women. They couldn’t understand how her husband could have committed all those crimes with her unaware. Didn’t she live in the same house?
Paul had heard the whispers, the catty remarks and the name-calling. When the reporters descended on her, he’d been there to get her out and relocate her to a private room where she, the boys and her mother remained out of the spotlight. All the while, she’d put up a strong front for Brandon and Luke, shielding them from the ugliness as best she could. They had been too young to understand and hopefully too young to remember.
He stared down at the letter, like so many others he’d seen on the case in Riverton, North Dakota. Had Stan Klaus lived through the fire and flood? They’d never found his body. “We’ll have the letter examined by our lab.”
Melissa pulled out an evidence bag from her back pocket and opened it.
Paul dropped the letter inside. “What did it say?”
Elise inhaled through her mouth, her lip quivering ever so slightly. “‘Dear Alice, for better or for worse, until death do us part. Let death begin.’” She said it in a flat, emotionless tone. When she finished, her body trembled from head to toe.
“Alice? He specifically said ‘Dear Alice’?” Melissa asked.
Elise nodded. She’d put that name behind her, even went so far as to consider her old self as someone who’d died along with Stan. Alice Klaus had been young, naive and stupid. Elise Johnson was savvy, aware and would never harbor a killer in her home. Ever.
“Have you or the boys told anyone your former names?”
“No. The two years we spent in Minneapolis gave us time to adjust to the new names. When we moved here, we started our new lives. No one knows who we are.”
Melissa snorted. “Someone does.”