Page 22 of Chilled
“I’m on it.” The chief left the room, his face more animated than when he’d entered.
While Nick issued orders, Brenna stood with the letter dangling from her fingers. “He’s baiting me.”
“Yes, he is.” Nick touched a hand to her elbow.
Warmth spread from his hand up her arm and helped to dispel the chill settling over her.
He leaned close and said in a dangerous voice, “But we’re going to spear this fish, not the other way around. Are you with us?”
“Yes.” She carefully replaced the envelope and letter in the plastic bag and handed it to Paul. “This goes to the crime lab.”
“Gotcha.” He left the room at a jog, returning in less than a minute.
“So, is Bart Olsen no longer a suspect?” Melissa asked.
“Since the letter came through the mail, we can’t be sure it wasn’t him.” Nick paced a few steps and turned. “My gut says no. But we’ll hold him for the legal limit just to make sure.”
“Good.” Paul’s mouth formed a grim line. “I’ll go talk to the university and do a little nosing around to see if I can come up with something. Based on the note, I’d bet my favorite jogging shoes the professor is already dead.”
“And I’ll bet I’m the one hereallywants,” Brenna whispered.
Melissa laid a hand on her arm. “Don’t let it get to you. Won’t do you or the victims any good.”
“She’s right,” Nick said. “We’re in this together. We’ll find him.”
God, she hoped so—before another life was lost.
Chief Burkholder reentered the war room. “Judge Tyler’s with the mayor. It might be morning before we get that warrant. In the meantime, I’ve bumped up the number of patrols for the night shift.” The chief’s lips pressed together in a gray line. “The weatherman predicts further warming.”
The lead lump in Brenna’s belly turned over. “How bad?”
Chief Burkholder breathed in and let it out slowly. “They’re saying it could be like the flood of ’97.”
“Don’t we have enough to worry about?” Brenna asked. “We have a killer on the loose, and we might be faced with a flood?”
She’d been a small child during the last one, but she remembered her parents shoveling sand into sandbags to build a makeshift levy. One that ultimately gave way to the force of the rising river. Many areas of town had been evacuated, people racing for shelters with only the clothes on their backs. All they could do was wait and watch news clips of their homes being washed downriver, taking with them a century of memories.
“Better prepare for the worst,” Chief Burkholder said.
Nick’s eyes narrowed. “No, we better catch him before it gets worse.”
Reverberating through Brenna’s mind was the old saying,It’s gonna get a lot worse before it gets better.
“I haveto get a shower and some rest,” Brenna said as she moved to the door. “I’ll be back around nine.”
Nick glanced at the clock. Was it already seven? The day had flown, and they were no closer to catching the killer.
“Wait,” Nick said. “I’ll go with you.”
Brenna’s eyebrow rose. “I don’t think so. A shower is something I can do on my own.”
He withheld a smart-ass remark, deciding she’d had enough for one day. “I realize that. But I’m not letting you out of my sight until this guy is either dead or behind bars. And right now, I’m leaning toward the dead scenario.”
“You and me both. But really, I can manage on my own. The hotel is well lit, and I’ll be carrying a gun.”
“Not good enough.”
For a moment, Nick thought she’d argue, but she shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
