Page 59 of Chilled
“Yes, I’d heard.” Stan frowned. “Tragic, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Nick laid his napkin on the table beside his plate. “The interesting thing is her hands were bound in Ethernet cable.”
His face paling, Stan leaned back in his chair. “You don’t think I had anything to do with it, do you?”
“Not at all,” Nick hurried to assure him. “I just wondered where a killer could’ve gotten hold of Ethernet cable.”
“You can buy it at any store that carries computer hardware supplies. It’s easily available.” Brenna’s brother-in-law shook his head. “I find it hard to believe this is happening in Riverton.”
“I know. Don’t worry.” Nick gave Brenna’s brother-in-law a reassuring smile. “Like I said, I’m curious.”
“Have you found any of the other missing women?”
“Not yet. We’re still searching.”
“Good God,” Stan said quietly. “We can’t even be safe in our own backyards.”
“Do you know any of the missing women?”
“Only from church. Dr. Drummond occasionally joined our Sunday School class.”
“She was a member of your church?” Nick’s attention perked. “Did you ever have an opportunity to speak with her on a more personal level? Did she mention anyone who might have been bothering her?”
“No.” Stan shook his head. “I should’ve called the other deacons to notify them of a death in our church family when I learned about it. We have a phone chain we use to notify other members when something of this nature occurs. I’ve been remiss.” He stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll do that now.”
“Certainly.”
Stan left the room and walked into the entrance hall.
Alone now with Marian Jensen in the tastefully decorated dining room, Nick pushed to his feet and walked around the room, studying the framed prints of Victorian settings. Not a frame was crooked or off-centered. He reached up and nudged one and it tilted to the right.
Nick fought a smile. Stan Klaus seemed a bit uptight and would probably go nuts with a tilted picture. Besides, anyone who made Brenna tense couldn’t be all good, despite what her mother thought.
As if on cue, Marian asked, “Are you going to marry my daughter?”
“I don’t know, Mrs. Jensen.” Having been burned by marriage once, Nick wasn’t anxious to jump back into the fire. But the old woman’s question made him think.
“Damaged goods, that’s what she is.”
“Excuse me.” Nick shook his head. Had she said what he thought she’d said? At moments she seemed lucid; at others, it was as if her mind took a hike.
“Can’t get a man because she’s damaged goods.” Marian dug her fork into her food and twirled it around. “What man can love a woman with ugly scars? Damaged goods. Should never have let her play in that barn. It’s all my fault.”
“I’m sure it was an accident.” Nick took his seat next to Mrs. Jensen. “You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
“One of those neighbor kids did it. Damn pyromaniac!”
Nick’s heart skipped a beat, and he leaned forward. Was Mrs. Jensen recalling what had really happened, or had she slipped into the imaginings of her warped mind?
“What neighbor kid?” he asked.
“Had to have been one of the neighbor kids.” Marian set her fork on her plate and rocked back and forth in her chair, tears welling in her tired blue eyes. “My poor baby. So much pain. Now, she can’t be loved.”
Nick didn’t want to add to the woman’s grief, but he couldn’t help asking, “Why can’t she be loved?”
“Damaged goods. All those ugly scars.”
Reaching for Marian’s hands, he held them in his. “Brenna is a beautiful woman, Mrs. Jensen. Any man would be lucky to have her.”
