by Brenda Novak
Removing his glasses, he rubbed his eyes as he sagged against the back of the barstool and pictured the various scenarios he could potentially face. If the daughter who lived in Alaska came snooping around, looking for her mother, he could kill her. But that would only start her husband searching for her, and if Lyman killed him the chain would go on. Eventually, the police would show up with a search warrant and find the bodies.
He couldn’t handle the problem of Edna Southwick in that way. Initially, he’d thought he’d just keep her with Evelyn until the baby came. Edna had had four kids; he figured she could help Evelyn when it came time for the delivery, which would improve the odds of the child surviving.
But he hadn’t really been thinking critically. Physical capacity wasn’t the only thing he’d lost with the damn hemorrhage. He’d lost a lot of mental acuity, too.
He had to take Evelyn and leave this place, he decided. As much as he’d hoped to stay right here until the baby was born—in so many ways it was ideal—he couldn’t. Law enforcement would eventually piece the whole thing together, would probably even realize that he was the one who’d kidnapped Evelyn and, for a time, kept her here. But with how easy it was to find work as a science editor or textbook ghostwriter, or even doing medical transcription, over the Internet, he could work from home, where it wouldn’t be difficult to lay low. He could even have groceries and other supplies delivered to his house, wouldn’t have to see anyone.
Which meant they wouldn’t know where he’d gone. And they wouldn’t be able to find him.
The only problem? Scouting out the perfect situation and getting set up again could take days.
He could only hope there’d be enough time.
Hilltop, AK—Tuesday, 8:00 a.m. AKDT
Jasper was afraid to go into the showers. He’d been waiting for an ambush and, after what Roland said in the yard on Sunday afternoon, he knew that was where such a thing would most likely occur. There weren’t enough hours in the day to allow all the inmates to shower separately—the government wasn’t keen on spending the extra money on the number of showers that would require; it wasn’t as though they were going to put one in every cell like some kind of motel—which left him vulnerable, especially because Roland was in the same cellblock. They’d been showering at the same time, three days a week, ever since Roland came to Hanover House, but Jasper had never been uneasy about it, not like this.
Although it would’ve been smarter for Roland to jump him when he wasn’t expecting it, that wasn’t Roland’s style. He had that weird code of ethics, which he was always rattling on about to the other inmates—what he called a sense of fair play. He felt it only right to inform his intended target that there would be trouble. He chose only his equals for opponents. And he never “sucker punched someone from behind,” as he put it.
Jasper had none of those scruples. He’d launch a sneak attack on Roland in a heartbeat—would do much worse—if he ever got the chance. He knew, in the minds of the other inmates, that made him inferior to Roland in some way, but he didn’t understand why. Roland was a fool to sacrifice the element of surprise. Why allow an opponent to get prepared?
Jasper saw no reason to give up any advantage. Ordinarily, advance notice would be enough to make it possible to prevail in any confrontation, since he now knew to keep his eyes open. But it wasn’t that easy with Roland. The man had many watching out for him in this place. The other inmates seemed to see him as some kind of folk hero, and the guards liked him, too, which was the weird part. Jasper had never seen such broad-based support, especially because, unlike most of the other inmates, Roland hadn’t cliqued up with any particular gang or group of friends. He remained aloof, his own man always, and measured everything according to that odd code of his.
“Getting nervous?”
Jasper didn’t need to look over to know who’d asked the question. He could tell by the voice and couldn’t help bristling at the taunt.
Turning, in his own sweet time, he looked over as casually as possible.
Sure enough, Roland was leaning up against the bars of his cell, watching Jasper. Roland had barely taken his eyes off Jasper since their encounter in the yard, had given him no privacy at all. Roland was trying to intimidate him, and Jasper understood that, hated that it was working, especially because Roland’s interest drew so much attention. Not only were the other prisoners urging Roland to make his move, they also were rooting for him to succeed.
“Shut your mouth, or as soon as I get the chance, I’ll shut it for you,” Jasper growled. But he couldn’t help watching the clock as it ticked inexorably toward eight thirty, when he’d be led to the showers along with everyone else in Cellblock D.
He could refuse to go. He was only forced to shower twice a week; the third was optional. But feigning sickness or lack of interest wouldn’t ring true. He seized any opportunity to get out of his cell and had never begged off.
Besides, not heading to the showers like usual would only delay the inevitable. Such a move wouldn’t be worth losing face over—a constant concern in prison, since falling to the bottom of the power pyramid could have even more dire consequences. He couldn’t behave like the stupid kid in elementary school who tattled if someone was picking on him. He had to stand up and fight.
“You want to have sex with me that badly?” Jasper returned Roland’s smile as if he wasn’t concerned in the least.
Roland laughed softly. “Not me, no. If it were up to me, I’d beat you to a pulp and be done with it. I don’t swing that way. But I have a friend who’s expressed interest, and I don’t see why I should deny him. After all, it’s exactly what you deserve, and seeing you get what you deserve is the only reason I’m in this.”
Jasper knew the man Roland was referring to. Rufus Moreno had created a small gang he called his family. He had a regular partner. Jasper had seen them making out in the yard many times. But Rufus was by no means exclusive. He loved to check out what he called fresh meat. “So what’s your role? You’re just gonna watch?”
His teeth flashed as his smile widened. “I’m the one who’s going to hold you down.”
“You’re an animal.”
At this Roland’s laugh grew loud enough to echo through the cavernous building, which started all the men around them laughing, too. “You can dish it out, but you can’t take it? Is that it?”
Jasper began to pace. It wasn’t a wise reaction. No doubt Roland could read his anxiety, but Roland already knew he had Jasper running scared, or he would’ve backed off by now. Nothing slipped past the man. And he didn’t care about his own life, so that gave him an advantage over everyone who did. “I’ll fight back,” Jasper warned.
“You can try,” he responded with a shrug.
“What, are you going to let all your friends pile on? Is that why you’re so damn confident?”
“I’m not asking for any help. I won’t need it.”
“You think this is what Evelyn would want?” Jasper asked.
He bit off a hangnail and spat it on the floor. “I certainly don’t think she’d mind. Do you?”
“She’s not out for revenge. There’s something different about my brain. She’s hoping to study it.”
“Then I’ll save it for her—in a jar. It’ll probably be a moot point, anyway. I doubt Evelyn’s coming back, and if she doesn’t, it’s because of men like you.”
So that was it. He was angry that Evelyn was gone, and he was taking it out on Jasper.
Jasper stopped pacing and grabbed hold of the bars of his cell. “You’re a convicted murderer! You’re not some defender of the innocent.”
His eyebrows slid up at the outburst. “I’ve never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it. Can you say the same?”
Jasper couldn’t hold his temper any longer. He’d never been good at it in the first place. “I’m going to kill you!” he cried. “I’m going to kill you if it’s the last thing I do!”
“You’ll have the chance in a few minutes,” Roland said.<
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The mail cart arrived. Jasper was breathing so hard he could feel his chest rising and falling as he jerked the mail from the hand of the inmate who came around to deliver it.
As usual, he had a stack of letters from women. He was too worked up to read them right now, figured he’d wait until he could enjoy them—if that time ever came. It was entirely possible he’d never return from the shower.
“Hey!” Roland called, and grinned as he showed Jasper a handmade shiv, which he quickly put behind his back when the inmate pushing the mail cart stopped to look, too.
Jasper wished he had a weapon. He was feeling more and more at a disadvantage when it came to Roland. The most maddening part was that he couldn’t figure out how Roland had managed to gain so much power and popularity in such a short time.
Intending to get to work sharpening his toothbrush—it was the only weapon he might have time to create in the few minutes he had left—he tossed his mail on the bed.
And that was when he saw it. He’d received a letter from Chastity.
Finally! At least now he’d get to learn, in her own words, what she’d found when she went to Beacon Point. Or maybe she’d tell him something Amarok had shared with her about the investigation he hadn’t yet heard. He was and always had been the most interested in Evelyn, and this was as close to Evelyn as he could currently get.
But Chastity’s letter said quite a bit more.
20
Minneapolis, MN—Tuesday, 11:10 a.m. CST
Amarok had the name of the guy who’d popped into the Quick Stop for a pack of cigarettes in that stolen carpet-cleaning van. It was Emmett Virtanen—a white male thirty-two years of age, six foot four inches tall and 240 pounds.
While sitting in a cheap motel room in St. Paul, Amarok studied the mug shot Detective Lewis sent via e-mail. According to Lewis, Virtanen had indeed served time at the Minnesota state prison in Faribault—eight years for second-degree burglary—with Terry Lovett. They’d been cellmates for over a year, and Terry had married Emmett’s sister as soon as he got out, which was only a few months before Emmett was released, at which point Lovett became the stepfather to her two children, a boy of twelve and a ten-year-old girl, the girl being the one who’d inadvertently given her mother away when she identified him.
Amarok had been tempted to head back to Alaska immediately after he’d left Bridget’s place last night, especially when he couldn’t get her to open the door or answer any of his questions despite what he’d learned. He didn’t like being gone when he had information that could lead to Evelyn.
But he wasn’t foolish enough to believe it would happen that fast. Yes, they’d identified Emmett, but now they had to locate him. They’d both gone to his apartment this morning, only to find it dark and closed up. Although Lewis was working on it, they didn’t yet have a search warrant. They couldn’t go in, so Amarok had been busy since then contacting Emmett’s other friends and associates—all of whom claimed they had no idea where he was.
Amarok hoped the warrant would come through so he could search the apartment while Lewis dealt with the service provider for Emmett’s cell phone. Once they had his cell phone records, they should be able to locate Emmett whether he was in Minnesota or Alaska or anywhere else in the world.
How closely they could pinpoint his whereabouts depended on two factors, however. Whether his phone was on or off—on made it easier. And how many towers it had communicated with recently. Three towers allowed for triangulation, which would place the phone inside a two-mile radius. If that turned out to be in Alaska, Amarok would definitely want to be there, which was why he’d booked a flight out first thing in the morning.
Before he had to catch that plane and while he was waiting for the warrant, he planned to visit Beacon Point Mental Hospital to see Bishop’s old room and talk to the staff there himself, just in case Lewis had missed something.
Let me know the second that warrant comes through, he wrote to Lewis. I’m checking out of the motel now.
Lewis had asked when he was heading back to Alaska, but Amarok hadn’t answered that question. Lewis wouldn’t be happy to hear he was going to Beacon Point—redoing work that had already been done—but if Amarok was here in town, he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to verify anything and everything he could.
He’d just checked out and put his bag in the trunk when his cell phone rang. Although he was hoping it was Lewis letting him know they now had what they needed, he recognized the number as belonging to someone else.
His father.
Amarok hesitated. He didn’t really have time to talk right now. His entire focus was on saving Evelyn and their baby. It was all he could think about. But he figured he’d just be driving. He could give Hank a few minutes without it costing him anything.
“What’s up?” he asked after he started the engine and the Bluetooth picked up.
“Your mother’s called me twice in the past twenty-four hours.”
He punched the Reverse button on the gearshift console but kept his foot on the brake pedal. “After thirty years you’ve heard from her twice in the same day?”
“I spoke to her one other time, when I was trying to get you to go to her fiftieth birthday shindig, remember?”
“Still. It must’ve been a shock to hear her voice.”
“It was.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why would you be sorry?” Hank asked.
“Because I’m sure it was our last telephone conversation that prompted her to reach out to you.”
“That’s probably true.”
Amarok backed out of the parking space. “Let me guess—she wants you to absolve her of any guilt?”
“Didn’t say that, but … yes. Essentially, she’d like to be forgiven.”
“You’re not going to forgive her, though, are you?”
“I already have,” he replied. “And I hope you’ll do the same.”
Amarok stomped on the brake. “After what she did?”
“People make mistakes, Amarok.”
“Not like that one, they don’t. And if they do, they don’t get off with a, ‘Whoops, I’m sorry,’ so long after the fact.”
“What good will it do to hold a grudge?”
Amarok didn’t answer right away. He was busy logging the address for Beacon Point into his GPS.
“Amarok?”
Finished, he pulled out of the parking lot. “It won’t do any good. But I’m not trying to punish her. I just don’t need her in my life. I’m an adult now. It’s too late.”
“Why not accept whatever love she can offer whether you’re an adult or not?”
“Because it’ll be awkward, weird. Why would I put myself into such an uncomfortable situation?”
“For a lot of reasons.”
“Name one.”
There was a long pause. “Look, she’s not a bad person. Sure, what she did wasn’t fair to you. But I wasn’t a perfect husband. Maybe some of what happened was my fault, too. I never mentioned your brother to you, either—not after they left.”
Because he was afraid Amarok would start pleading to go live with his mother so he could be with his brother. That Amarok could forgive. Hank would gladly have been a part of Jason’s life if only Alistair would’ve allowed it.
Amarok signaled for a left turn and slowed down. “Dad, you realize Evelyn is still missing, right? I don’t give a rat’s ass about anything except getting her back, so maybe we can talk about this later.”
“Phil said the same thing when he gave me your number. But that’s just it.”
“What’s ‘just it’?”
“If you can’t find Evelyn … If, for some reason, this ends badly, you’re going to need all the love and support you can get. And your mother is ready and waiting for a second chance.”
“I know you’re worried about me, Dad. But if I don’t get Evelyn back, there’s nothing my mother can do to make it better.”
There was a long silence. “Okay. But �
� I wanted you to know that it wouldn’t be disloyal to me if you decide to welcome her back into your life. As a matter of fact, I’m in favor of it. You mean more to me than hating her. I’d let the devil in at the door if I thought it would be a good thing for you, especially right now, when you’re going through so much.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’re still holding out hope?”
It didn’t sound as though his father was very optimistic. “Of course. Evelyn’s the woman I love.”
“You need to be prepared, Amarok. It’s been a week. What are the odds she’s going to be okay?”
“Not great,” he admitted. “But she’s beaten the odds before, and I’m making progress on the investigation. It’s just taking time.”
Hank didn’t say it, but Amarok knew what he had to be thinking: time was the one thing they probably didn’t have.
“I’ll let you go. I didn’t call to upset you. Merely wanted to plant a seed.”
“That you’d rather I reunite with my mother?”
“If you need her, yes. It’s important to me that you have what you need.”
“Well, in case you’ve been wondering, you’ve always been enough for me. Gotta go.” He pressed the End Call button as he pulled into Beacon Point and tried to dismiss his father and mother from his mind. That situation would be there when he had time to deal with it. Evelyn needed him now.
He jogged to the building but forced himself to slow down once he reached the entrance.
Anchorage, AK—Tuesday, 8:20 a.m. AKDT
“You don’t want to talk today?” Evelyn asked.
Lyman Bishop stood on the other side of the slot in the door. She could see his rounding paunch hanging over the brown belt holding up his baggy polyester pants—pants a much older man would typically wear. But, unlike before, when he’d been so gregarious, he didn’t have much to say. He seemed sullen, upset. She was worried about what was going through his mind. He’d barely fed them yesterday. They’d received only one meal, and it hadn’t been a large one. She had to draw him out, so he’d treat them better. Edna was so traumatized by what’d happened, she seemed almost childlike in her response to it, completely bewildered.
