Page 74 of Chilled
“Back?” Nick grabbed Paul’s shoulders in a steely grip. “Back from where? The bathroom, the soda machine? Please, tell me she’s in the station.”
Paul’s brow furrowed, and he shook off Nick’s hands. “Get a grip, buddy. She ran over to her sister’s house to help with her mother.”
“By herself?” He held his breath for Paul’s answer.
The other man cocked a brow at Nick. “Yeah. She said she’d be back in thirty minutes. That was fifteen minutes ago. She should be on her way back about now. Is there a problem?”
Realizing he might be overreacting a bit, Nick inhaled and exhaled twice before he spoke again. “I don’t know. But you and Melissa knew I didn’t want her out there alone.”
“She insisted. Besides, it’s broad daylight. This guy hasn’t attacked in the daytime.”
“Not that we know of.” Nick glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes seemed like a long time. “What were you saying about an IP address?”
“Like I told you over the phone, I had a buddy of mine run a scan of the most common mapping databases used to find the IP address of the computer that generated the map we received in the mail this morning. Anyway, we got a hit. Thank God this is a small town. We should have a phone number and a name in the next thirty minutes to an hour.” Paul grinned and dropped down into the seat in front of the computer.
“He’s made his mistake.” Hope flared in Nick’s chest, but his satisfaction was short-lived when he glanced down at his watch. Without Brenna there, he couldn’t feel good about anything. He shoved his hand through his hair as he walked over to the whiteboard. “When did she say she’d be back?”
Paul’s hands paused over the keyboard. “Who, Brenna?”
“Yes, Brenna!”
“Ten more minutes.” Paul’s phone rang. “Maybe that’s her now.” He tapped his phone screen and lifted it to his ear. “Fletcher speaking.”
Nick’s gaze could have bored a hole into Paul’s phone, but he still couldn’t hear the caller’s voice.
Paul glanced his way and shook his head, silently telling him it wasn’t Brenna. Then he turned his attention to the caller. “Great. Give it to me.” Paul listened, jotting down the information. Then he said, “Thanks, Joe. I owe you one.” He hung up and grinned. “We’ve got him!”
“Got who? What are you talking about?” Nick asked. Right now, though his eyes stared at the whiteboard details, his thoughts focused on nothing but Brenna.
“The killer. We traced the IP address and came up with an address and name.”
Nick walked over to the table where Paul sat. “What’s the name?”
“S. Klaus,” Paul said, not looking up.
In mid-stride, Nick stopped as the name crashed through his preoccupied thoughts to his brain. Fear gripped him in its icy clutches, freezing out everything but the words Paul had uttered.
“What did you say?” Nick asked, wanting, needing the confirmation.
“An S. Klaus,” Paul repeated. “At 214 West Nodak Street.”
All the blood drained from Nick’s head. Stanley Klaus was the one who’d sent the map and notes.
Stanley Klaus was their murderer.
“Damn!” Nick’s fist pounded the conference table.
Paul jumped. “What’s going on?”
“Stanley Klaus is Brenna’s brother-in-law.” Before he finished the sentence, he was halfway across the room, tossing his jacket over his shoulder.
“The man married to the sister she went to help?” Paul trotted to keep up with Nick all the way out to the parking lot.
Nick unlocked the door to the sedan and climbed in, his thoughts on the house on Nodak Street and the woman walking into a possible trap. “One and the same.”
CHAPTER 18
Brenna parkedbeside Stan’s truck, climbed out of her SUV and stared around the neighborhood. People rushed back and forth from their houses, packing clothes, food, blankets and treasured memorabilia into vehicles. They hurried to cram in as much as they could as quickly as possible. She felt sorry for those who stood a chance of losing their homes like they had in 1997.
