by Brenda Novak
Evelyn had promised her, over and over again, that everything would be okay. But it didn’t seem to help. She kept saying things such as, “We’ll never get out of here. If no one knows where we are, how will we ever get help?” And Evelyn would offer a soothing response only to have Edna repeat basically the same thing a few minutes later: “We’ll never get out of here. We’re going to die. He’s going to kill us!”
Edna needed food, water and rest. The glassy look to her eyes had Evelyn concerned. But they had only the one small cot between them. Evelyn had taken off the mattress and the blanket so they could lie together on the floor, but with only their upper bodies on the padding, their hips had begun to ache almost immediately. They’d constantly shifted around, trying to get comfortable.
Evelyn guessed Edna had barely closed her eyes. She knew she hadn’t slept for more than twenty minutes at a stretch. If this continued, they’d have to take turns napping on the bed just to remain sane. The floor wasn’t a viable option.
“What is there to talk about?” Lyman handed in the piece of cardboard that now served as a food tray. It held two plastic bowls of scrambled eggs with sausage. When she’d tried to slam the door and accidentally hit the metal tray Emmett had used, it had been ruined, so they’d suffered a downgrade there, but the food looked better than when Emmett had been in charge.
“Did you make this?” she asked as she took it and handed it off to Edna, who was too afraid to come forward and retrieve it herself.
“Of course I made it. There isn’t anyone else here, is there?”
Ignoring the obvious pique in his voice, she glanced over her shoulder to signal to Edna to remain silent—not that she felt Edna was about to jump in. Edna wasn’t even eating, despite the food she’d put next to her. “Smells good.”
“I used to be a fabulous cook.” He spoke grudgingly, but she could tell he liked to talk, especially about himself, and especially in response to a compliment.
“What did you put in the eggs? Some onions and spinach with the sausage, maybe?”
He bent down to peer in at her. “Yes. I wanted to give the eggs a bit more flavor. And I figured you could use the vegetables.”
“Good idea. But what I really need is a toothbrush. You wouldn’t believe how terrible it is to go so long without brushing your teeth.”
“You don’t have a toothbrush?” he cried.
“No. Emmett never gave me one.”
He sighed. “He was hard to deal with.”
“Which is why I’m glad you’re here.” She held her breath, was afraid she’d gone too far with that statement. Psychopaths loved praise. She was pandering to his ego. But what she’d said was so farfetched it was hard to believe he wouldn’t recognize it as the lie it was and call her out on her attempt to manipulate him.
To her amazement, he didn’t. When he said, “I tried to tell you how lucky you were when I arrived,” as if he’d totally bought in, she felt the tension gripping her chest lessen ever so slightly.
“Emmett wouldn’t respond no matter what I needed,” she complained. “But I told Edna you’re not like that. You want us all to be happy together.”
“I do,” he said, his voice perking up.
“So you’ll get me a toothbrush?”
“Of course. Dental hygiene is incredibly important. It affects your overall health. But Emmett was an uneducated fool, so he wouldn’t know that.”
“He wasn’t as smart as you. That’s for sure. Could I also get another pillow and blanket for Mrs. Southwick? She’s having a hard time in here. It’s an adjustment, as you said before.”
As nicely as she’d asked, she’d thought he’d want to continue playing the hero. She expected him to agree to such a simple request. But his expression darkened. “No. She’s not getting anything.”
Evelyn widened her eyes. “Why not?”
“Because she has no manners, that’s why. She showed up here without even calling—and ruined everything!”
“I think it’s fortunate she came by,” Evelyn said, trying to soften his heart. “It’s made me a lot happier to have some company, hasn’t it?”
He seemed to consider her response. “Apparently so. I admit that at first I tried to look at it in a positive light, too. I thought she could help when it’s time for you to have the baby. I’m worried about how that will go without a doctor. But I wasn’t thinking clearly. It’s not as if she can just disappear from everyday life.”
“That’s true,” she said soothingly. She needed to keep him talking no matter what.
“People will be coming to look for her,” he continued. “And, unlike you, she’s connected to this ranch. After they search her house and maybe a few other places she frequents, they’ll check here, too.”
Evelyn furrowed her eyebrows. “Can’t you just say you haven’t seen her? She told me no one else even knows she was planning to stop by.”
It seemed as though he wanted to grab the easy solution she was trying to hand him. Now that Edna was with her, Evelyn didn’t want him to move them somewhere else—because he was right. Edna’s presence boosted their chances of being found.
But then he said, “And if they ask to look around?”
That would be the best of all eventualities for Evelyn, of course. Although she felt terrible that Edna was now facing the same deprivation, fear and outright danger, she couldn’t help hoping the older woman’s misfortune would have a silver lining—that they’d both be found. “You don’t have to let them.”
“If I refuse, they’ll suspect something is up and come back with a search warrant, at which point they’ll discover Emmett’s body under all that chicken manure in the coop in back. And I doubt they’ll believe me when I tell them it was you who killed him.”
When she didn’t deny her involvement, Edna whimpered on the bed. She had to be horrified by the conversation, as any normal person would be. Evelyn hadn’t mentioned Emmett, hadn’t told Edna what she’d had to do. Maybe that was a mistake; it was much harder to hear it stated so casually. But she couldn’t explain or attempt to justify her actions right now. She had to make Bishop believe she was a confederate of sorts, appeal to his desire to be liked and admired—his desire to be loved, as tragic and depraved as lying to someone about that was—or they might never escape.
“I don’t know if that’s entirely true,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper so that only Bishop could hear. “She’s just an old lady who’s lost her husband and her business, doesn’t have much else going on in her life. I don’t get the impression she’ll be missed.”
Her heart pounded as she awaited Bishop’s response. She desperately needed to sell him on the fact that there was nothing to worry about, so he’d relax and those who would miss Edna could have a chance of finding them.
“I can’t take the risk,” he said. “You and our baby mean too much to me.”
Evelyn had to curve her fingernails into her palms to keep from reacting to that statement as violently as she was tempted to. He made it sound as though he could just that easily step into Amarok’s shoes.
“So … what are you going to do?” She was proud of herself when she managed to sound normal, interested, fine with having him claim her and her baby.
“I’m looking for another place for us to stay, of course. This one’s out of the question—she ruined it.”
He meant Edna.
“We can … we can figure out some way to stay, can’t we?”
“Aren’t you listening?” he said, obviously irritated. “No, we can’t. And that’s hugely inconvenient, especially when I need more time to recover and get on my feet.”
He tried to peer around her to give Edna a nasty look. Clearly, he wanted to make sure Edna understood that all of this was her fault and no one else’s. But Edna wasn’t paying attention. She sat against the wall, huddled up in the blanket with her eyes closed, as though she couldn’t bear to open them.
Evelyn bent closer to the slot. She wanted to ask Bishop w
hat changing locations would mean for Edna, if Edna would be coming with them. But she was afraid of what Lyman would say—and that he wouldn’t say it quietly. If she had to bet, he’d be happy to leave poor Edna moldering in the chicken shit with Emmett.
“Could you do me a favor?” she asked.
Acting surprised by the request—or probably just the intimacy of her voice, since she was trying to play on his mistaken belief that they would be a couple—he leaned closer, too. “What kind of favor?”
“Will you let me keep her with me as a helper for when I have the baby and then maybe as a nurse for the first few months? You had the right idea with that. We could really use her.”
Evelyn held her breath as she awaited his reply. She had to think of some reason Edna needed to go with them. Although she couldn’t be sure, she was fairly certain it was the only way to keep her alive. Because even if he didn’t kill her outright, even if he just left her behind, locked in this damn cooler, it could be too late by the time someone found her.
He would never release her—couldn’t release her. If he did, she might bring the police before he could get safely away.
“No,” he said. “I don’t like her. Besides, that will only make things more difficult for me.”
And he, of course, was the only person who mattered. Psychopaths were the biggest assholes in the world.
Hilltop, AK—Tuesday, 8:30 a.m. AKDT
Jasper knew he was in trouble when he couldn’t get either of the COs escorting him and the other inmates to even look at him. “Hey, Cadiz!” he called. “Aren’t you listening? I said, I need to talk to Sergeant Murphy.” He’d stated that as soon as the door to his cell had sprung open and he stepped out of it. But Cadiz seemed to have cotton in his ears. The same was true for CO Perez.
“What’s wrong with you two?” he cried when they pressed him to get walking with a shooing motion of their hands. “I have information on Dr. Talbot! I need to get to the trooper as soon as possible.”
Cadiz rolled his eyes. “Sure you do.”
“It’s true! I can tell him where she is—or at least put him on the right track.”
“Pretty convenient that you have this information now,” someone else muttered.
“Suddenly he can help Sergeant Murphy rescue the doc,” another guy said, chuckling.
“As if he would, even if he could,” a third guy added.
“I would! I want her back as much as anyone,” he insisted, but when Cadiz glanced back at Perez, who was bringing up the rear—essentially asking what he should do—Perez gave him a negative shake of the head.
“What was that?” Jasper cried when he witnessed the exchange. “Why would you tell him no? You have no idea what I’ve learned!”
“We don’t care what kind of bullshit you’ve come up with in order to save your ass. No one wants to miss watching you get what you have coming to you,” yet another inmate said.
Jasper had been right to worry. Roland had something in store for him this morning. “If Dr. Talbot dies, it’ll be your fault.”
“You tried to kill her yourself!” someone cried. “On more than one occasion. So how do you expect us to believe you want to save her now?”
Jasper looked over his shoulder, searching for the man who’d been sneering at him all morning, and saw Roland walking in the midst of a knot of men directly in front of Perez. Everyone wanted to be by him. Even the guards were in his corner—the knowledge of which made Jasper uneasy. He couldn’t figure how to wiggle out of this and regain the upper hand. For the first time in his life, he felt utterly powerless.
When Roland met his gaze, Jasper’s knees went weak and his heart began to pound against his chest like a sledgehammer.
“Don’t wet your pants,” Roland crooned.
Holy shit! Jasper wasn’t about to let himself get jumped. If something happened, the guards wouldn’t intercede—at least not until they absolutely had to. They knew what was about to go down, yet they weren’t doing anything to stop it.
“This is bullshit. I’m not going to the showers today,” Jasper said, falling out of line.
Roland and his buddies passed by without another word, but Perez reached him a second later and lifted his Taser. “Keep moving.”
“No. I don’t have to. I’ll take a shower on Thursday and Sunday.”
“Sorry, but the rain has washed out the road, so we’re a bit shorthanded this morning. I can’t leave Cadiz in order to escort you back. Besides, you stink, and the other men are complaining about it. That means you’re taking a shower today.”
He didn’t stink, so no one could’ve complained. That was an excuse, a reason to force him into the showers, where Roland would be waiting for him.
“You don’t seem so tough now!” someone called back to him, and, once again, there was laughter.
“Quit being a pussy,” someone else snarled.
They’d all taken Roland’s side, the bastards.
“Are you going to move, or do I have to fire this thing?” Perez asked.
Jasper lifted both hands in a defensive position. “Listen to me. You don’t want any part of this. It’s not right.”
“You’ve brutally tortured and then murdered more than thirty women. You’ve even killed your own parents, for God’s sake! And now you want to talk about what’s right?”
Terror rose like bile, burning Jasper’s throat. They felt justified in doing whatever they pleased because they considered it justice. “You need to stop and think! If you allow this to happen, you’ll lose your job.”
“No, I won’t. I’m just making sure a filthy man takes a shower. That is my job.”
Arguing was no good. It didn’t matter what he said. They didn’t believe he knew anything about Evelyn, thought he was simply trying to avoid a beating, which was the greatest irony he’d ever encountered, because he really could save her. At least, he thought he could—if what Chastity had sent him meant anything.
He turned and tried to make a run for it. He had no other choice.
Before he could take three steps, Perez hit the button on his Taser and those hooks flew out like they had in the library, paralyzing him with an intense electric current. Then Perez dragged him to the showers, and once he was there two inmates stripped him naked.
Jasper had never felt more vulnerable than when he saw Roland waiting for him. That was the moment he knew he really wasn’t getting out of this.
He took a swing at Roland—he wasn’t going to wait, always be on the defensive—and fought as hard as he could. But after only a few minutes, Roland had his arm twisted behind his back until it felt as though it was being wrenched from the socket. He could only scream in pain—though he still noticed the slick feel of the shower wall when Roland forced him up against it.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Rufus asked facetiously as he stepped through the steam gathering thick and hot around them.
Jasper couldn’t see the guards anymore. They’d made themselves scarce so they could pretend they’d had no idea he was about to get assaulted.
“You motherfuckers! I’ll make you all pay for this!” Jasper shouted, but no one seemed too concerned about his threats. He felt Rufus’s hairy chest press into his back, felt Rufus’s breath, even hotter than the steam, curl over his cheek. “I love initiations,” he murmured, and licked Jasper’s ear.
“I know … I know where Dr. Talbot is,” Jasper croaked. At this point, he didn’t care if Evelyn made it back alive. He was merely trying to save his own skin.
Now they’ll have to believe me, he thought. But no one did.
Or … maybe he hadn’t actually brought those words to his lips. He didn’t know, couldn’t think straight, especially after he felt something he didn’t want to feel against his backside and tried to kick Rufus to keep him away.
At that point, everyone who was hovering on the periphery of the circle seemed to crowd closer and a few even jumped in to hit or kick him, which triggered a free-for-all.
> In one sense, that came as a relief to Jasper. They wouldn’t all be standing around, watching him be raped, as Roland had planned. But with so much anger and testosterone the level of violence erupted so fast—like a match to a flame—and within seconds the situation turned into a regular old-fashioned beating.
Jasper felt blows coming from all sides—fists, feet, knees, elbows. A vicious head butt caused him to see stars, but the agony turned to relief because he couldn’t feel as much after that.
Roland tried to get the others to back off. Dimly, Jasper heard him yell that he could handle it, that it wasn’t fair for everyone to pile on. But, for a change, no one listened to him, so he let go of Jasper and got out of the fray.
Even then Jasper couldn’t escape. He was the carrion and they were the buzzards, feasting on his flesh.
The last thing he remembered was falling to the floor and staring up at the water spurting out of the showerheads as an inmate by the name of Lester, who had gold caps on his two front teeth, leaned over him, brandishing the shiv Roland had shown him earlier.
Maybe he was going to be stabbed before he could be raped, he thought, and then everything went dark.
21
Minneapolis, MN—Tuesday, 4:30 p.m. CST
Beacon Point was a bust. Amarok left frustrated that those in charge didn’t seem to feel more responsible for Bishop getting out. Terry’s boss, when he finally spoke to her, admitted that Terry had been a subpar worker. She said that was why she’d let him go, and she acted as though she’d done her part by giving him notice. But how could she and everyone else have missed the fact that one of their janitors was getting too friendly with a patient who was a known serial killer?
The security guard on duty that night had been fired since. Those in charge pointed to that as proof they’d done all they could in the aftermath. But the security guard wasn’t the only one who hadn’t done her job. Amarok still hadn’t heard an acceptable reason as to why the hospital hadn’t contacted the police immediately upon noticing Lyman’s bed was empty. They claimed it was because they thought he was too impaired to harm anyone; they expected him to be found without any trouble and didn’t want to send the whole community into a panic, especially one that was totally unnecessary.
