by Brenda Novak
That was easier said than done when a percentage of those opponents belonged to her own industry. She doubted very many had stared into the eyes of a homicidal maniac the way she had, however. If they’d known Jasper, maybe they’d be more supportive of her efforts to fight the psychopathy problem.
“I’ll do what I can,” she heard herself say, but her mind was elsewhere. If Jasper was really behind what was going on, he was even more brilliant than she’d been giving him credit for. Not only would Lorraine and Danielle’s deaths terrorize her, they’d destroy her professionally before he destroyed her personally.
A complete coup de grâce.
“I was also calling to check on Garza,” Detective Green said. “Did you get him transferred up there?”
Desperate to believe that the killer they were dealing with was anyone but Jasper, maybe someone Danielle had been with who had nothing to do with Hanover House, like Amarok had suggested, or a copycat excited by the media buzz surrounding her efforts, she logged into her e-mail program. “He arrived two days ago.”
“There’s no chance he could be responsible for what’s happening.…”
“No. None.” She considered telling Green about the severed limb she found on her bed but decided not to. The way she was feeling, it would only bring her to tears, and she didn’t want to break down on the phone.
“What do you think of our conscienceless friend?” Green asked.
She pictured Garza’s jagged teeth. “I think he’s a very dangerous individual.”
“Good. Then you’ll be cautious.”
Right now, she had to be cautious of everyone and everything. Enemies seemed to be sprouting up on all sides. “Always.”
“Let me know if he gives anything away, anything at all. I’d love to charge him. As a matter of fact, I’d like to see video of your interactions with him. Maybe I’ll hear something that will spark a memory or a connection someone who hasn’t been working on the case as long as I have would miss.”
“No problem. I can provide the video footage. We tape everything.”
She began sorting through her messages, looking for that list of names Amarok had said he’d send.…
“What’s the local law enforcement like?” Green asked. “They friendly? Supportive?”
She could call Amarok friendly—not necessarily to what she’d created here but to her personally. He was letting her stay at his place, wasn’t he? “Nice. But … it’s just one man, an Alaska State Trooper.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“No. They don’t have counties here, so there are no sheriffs or deputies. The troopers handle crime investigation.”
“I’ve seen the show.”
“He’s all they typically need during the winter,” she explained. “But…”
“Tell me he has some experience with homicide.”
Unwilling to say anything too negative, because it made her feel disloyal, she hesitated.
“Is that a no?” Green pressed.
“He’s caught people who illegally kill animals,” she said.
“Did you say animals?”
She rubbed her temples. “He spends a lot of his time protecting the fish and wildlife.”
“That’s got to have a lot of crossover.” Sarcasm dripped from his words. “Now I understand why you’re worried. Is he smart, at least? Dedicated to his job?”
“Absolutely.” He was also good in bed, she thought wryly. Although she didn’t have much experience in that area herself, she could tell he knew what to do with a woman. But skill in making love wouldn’t save her life or her life’s work, so she returned her attention to the call.
“I wish you luck up there on the last frontier,” Green said, but he didn’t sound as if he was holding out much hope she’d get through the coming days unscathed. She would have pointed that out, but she was too preoccupied to answer. She’d found the e-mail she’d been searching for and opened it.
She’d anticipated recognizing a few of the men Danielle had been with—and she did. Some were COs: Dean Snowden and Steve Dugall. That made her particularly angry. Others were clerical support. There was even a “Tim,” which was Dr. Fitzpatrick’s name—not that she could imagine the stuffy doctor having sex with Danielle. He’d consider a young kitchen helper too far beneath his notice. Besides, there was a maintenance man by the same name who worked at HH.
Then she spotted something that made her slam her hands on the desk and jump to her feet. “Holy hell!”
“What is it?” Green asked.
She’d forgotten she was on the phone. “Oh … nothing.” Her mind raced as she floundered for something to say to explain her outburst. “It’s just a … a spider. I’ve got to go,” she said, and hung up. Then she stood there, her breathing ragged, her mind reeling as she stared at the four letters that had hit her so hard.
It couldn’t be, she thought. But it had to be, didn’t it? She’d only ever met one person with the name Hugo.
* * *
Evelyn paced behind her chair as she waited for the man who could possibly answer so many of her questions. First and foremost she wanted to know why Hugo was listed in Danielle’s little black book and how he came to be there.
Amarok hadn’t included any measurements along with what he’d sent Evelyn. He probably didn’t see that as relevant. But she was curious to know if Danielle had noted a length for Hugo. If not, maybe she hadn’t been intimate with every man in that book. She could have been keeping track of those she’d like to sleep with, or the ones who had come on to her in the cafeteria. Maybe they’d even exposed themselves. Because she couldn’t have had sex with Hugo. She couldn’t have had sex with any of the other inmates Evelyn had seen listed, either—not unless …
Evelyn couldn’t bear to consider the “unless.” It was the presence of the names of those COs, Dean Snowden and Steve Dugall, in addition to the inmates that made her uncomfortable. It suggested the COs had made some sort of an arrangement with Danielle—like a prostitution agreement where they charged the inmates to have sex with her and then split the money.
Evelyn had heard of inmates bribing guards for cell phones and cigarettes, even drugs. That happened all the time in other prisons, so she supposed it could happen here, too. And if the inmates could bribe the guards for those things, they might also be able to pay them to turn a blind eye to certain sexual activity. But surely the staff wouldn’t participate. Especially this staff. She’d come to know the people she worked with and liked most of them—except Tim.
Hugo’s inclusion on that list wasn’t the only reason she was eager to speak with him, however. He had been urgently warning her that something was about to happen—and it had. He’d also been afraid that the COs would find out what he was telling her, and now she could see why that might be the case. A whistle-blower was not treated well in prison.
With a sigh, she pivoted and returned to her chair. At the house, she’d been so sure that Jasper was back. Hugo had said that Lorraine’s death was all about her—that Lorraine had been chosen because Evelyn loved her—and she’d believed him. She’d been particularly susceptible to that suggestion because of her fears and insecurities. But he could’ve made that up just to frighten her. The men she studied would say almost anything to get a reaction.
Still, how did she account for that arm being in her bed?
A taunting smile curved Hugo’s lips when the COs brought him in. “Now you wish you would’ve listened to me,” he said with a self-satisfied chuckle.
The door closed and locked behind him as she took her place at the table on the other side of the plexiglass. “You’re going to start off being combative?”
“Why wouldn’t I? We’re not friends.”
This took her by surprise. He’d always been so solicitous of her before. “I thought we were. Have you changed your mind?”
He didn’t respond. She’d reacted negatively when he’d tried to be her champion, and now he was punishing her.
“H
ow are you feeling today?” she asked, trying to get back on common ground. “Better?”
“I’m great. Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied as if he hadn’t been the least upset in their last encounter.
“Because of Lorraine,” she reminded him.
“Oh, that.” He shrugged. “Why would I care if she’s dead? That stupid bitch didn’t mean anything to me.”
Evelyn clenched her jaw. He finally had her at a disadvantage, and he was exploiting it. She couldn’t believe she’d ever liked him.
She pretended what he said didn’t bother her, but only by looking at the situation objectively. This was just another example of what she’d first observed while reading transcripts of interviews with Ted Bundy. Like Ted and so many other psychopaths, Hugo didn’t seem to keep track of the things he said even a few minutes before and often contradicted himself. Most people overlooked these seemingly inconsequential slips, probably because they didn’t deal with enough psychopaths to draw the correlation. But this kind of sloppy speech further proved that a psychopath’s brain wasn’t wired like a normal person’s. Although the right hemisphere usually controlled speech, psychopaths were bilateral, meaning both sides of the brain were involved. They weren’t the only ones—people who stuttered or had dyslexia were bilateral, too—but bilateralism explained at least one of the reasons Hugo’s speech wasn’t as well integrated as it should’ve been.
“I’d like to ask you something,” she said.
“About…”
“Danielle Connelly.”
A Cheshire-type grin spread across his face. “Now there’s a nice girl. She’s been much nicer to me than you have.”
“Nicer in what way?”
“She’s … approachable.”
“Did you have sex with her, Hugo?”
His eyebrows shot up. “How could I have sex with her? You know what security’s like in here,” he said, but his smile never faded and there was no conviction behind his words.
“Perhaps you’ve worked out a deal with the guards.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And they prefer to be called correctional officers. You’d think you, of all people, so buttoned up and proper, could remember that.”
She’d purposely used his lexicon to better connect with him. “You’re not going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“How you came to be listed in a certain record Danielle kept?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said with a scowl. “I tried to help you before, but you wouldn’t have it.”
“And now you won’t help.”
He jerked his head toward the camera without comment.
Was he saying he couldn’t tell her, not while others were listening in?
“There’s been another murder,” she told him.
“There has?” He sat up taller. “No one’s been talking about it. Why hasn’t anyone said anything?”
She got the impression he was truly unaware, but psychopaths were the ultimate con men, so she wasn’t sure she could trust his reaction. “It’s not public knowledge yet.”
His eyes, bright with interest, latched on to her face. “Who got it?”
“The victim hasn’t been identified.”
“She has to have some connection to you.”
“She? You can give me the victim’s gender?” Did he know it was Danielle?
“Merely an easy guess.”
“Okay. But why does this second murder have to have some connection to me?”
A hint of condescension entered his tone. “Because it wouldn’t make sense otherwise. You’re the one he hates.”
She uncrossed her legs. “Who’s he, Hugo?”
“Jasper, of course.”
“And you know this … how?”
Shoving his chair out of the way, he stood. “I’d like to tell you. But…”
“But…,” she prompted.
“You’re too scared to let me. And if that doesn’t change, more people will die, and their deaths will be your fault, too.”
The memory of the decomposing bodies of her girlfriends rose in Evelyn’s mind. She’d never let herself grow so fond of anyone since. She’d been too afraid to invest that much of her heart, for fear of the loss. Jasper had only killed them because they mattered to her, and he was still out there, possibly as close as ever.
She’d cared for Lorraine, and Lorraine had been killed, too. It was hard to ignore the connection. The specific placement of that arm seemed to solidify that he was back, despite the discovery of Danielle’s little black book.
“Stop trying to make me feel responsible for what’s happened,” she said.
“I’m not making you feel anything. If you feel responsible, that’s on you.”
She started to shake her head. He was still trying to coax her to his side of the room.
She wasn’t going to fall for that. She’d just told Fitzpatrick that she understood the risks.
But Fitzpatrick didn’t know that they were likely facing some serious corruption. And what Hugo said next made her heart jump into her throat.
“Maybe his third victim won’t be a woman,” he said. “Maybe it’ll be that handsome trooper you’ve been hanging out with.”
Amarok! How did he know about Amarok?
Scarcely able to breathe, Evelyn gaped at him. Amarok would not be easy to harm. Not only was he big and strong, he had training and weapons. But she couldn’t say that for fear her words would be construed as a challenge. Why draw the attention of Jasper or any other dangerous individual to the sergeant?
Anyone could be hurt or killed if caught at a vulnerable moment.
“Look at your face.” Hugo laughed as if she’d just told him the funniest joke ever. “You’ve gone white as a sheet. So that would upset you. The trooper means something to you. Losing him would be like finding your best friends slaughtered all those years ago. Or is he even closer to you than they were?” He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “Are you fucking him?”
In that moment, she hated Hugo almost as much as Jasper. “What can you tell me about the murders, Hugo?”
He didn’t skip a beat. “It’ll shock you—but it could also save your life. Are you sure you don’t want to hear it?”
Her clothes were beginning to stick to her even though it wasn’t remotely warm in the room. “You realize you’re being monitored.”
“Of course. I’m like a monkey at the zoo with everyone always watching.” He grinned. “When I return to my cell, they can watch me jack off while I fantasize about you. But as long as no one hears what I say, it can’t get around.”
“What’s it about?” Would he tell her whether or not he’d slept with Danielle? How it was that so many inmates and COs had their names in that damn book?
“Come on over and find out.”
He couldn’t say anything while he was being taped.…
So how badly did she want that information? How far was she willing to go to make sure no one else got hurt, including the handsome sergeant she so desperately wanted to make love—successfully—with?
Enough to risk her life? Was she putting others in danger because she was too afraid to allow Hugo to whisper a few details in her ear?
“You’re thinking about it,” he said in a singsong voice.
If she thought too long, she wouldn’t do it. She was scared. She was more than scared. But if she could save a life, especially Amarok’s …
Gathering her nerve as well as her clipboard, she stood. “If you try anything, the COs will be on you in seconds.”
He spread his hands. “I’d never hurt you regardless.”
She didn’t believe that. But in most prisons, psychiatrists and psychologists went about their work with nothing except a desk separating them from the inmates they treated. Of course, there were reasons for the plexiglass in this particular prison. But if anything went wrong, help would arrive as quickly as possible.
She just hoped “as
quickly as possible” would be soon enough, that giving him a private audience would at least confirm whether or not Danielle was truly sleeping with all the men in that book.
Evelyn’s heels clicked on the concrete hallway as she made her way around to his side of the cell. Fitzpatrick’s warning ran through her mind like ticker tape, but that didn’t stop her. Her colleague had never found any of his friends brutally murdered. Her colleague didn’t have many friends to worry about. She wasn’t sure he’d risk himself to save anyone, even if he did. She was leaving herself vulnerable, but what if Hugo could provide some detail that would help them capture Jasper—or even another killer?
Fortunately, the CO in the observation room wasn’t Glenn Whitcomb. Officer Emilio Kush poked his head out as she came down the corridor. “Shouldn’t I go in with you?”
“No.” Hugo wouldn’t talk if she brought someone with her. He’d made that clear. If she had a CO accompany her, what would be the point of going in at all?
“You shouldn’t trust him,” Kush warned.
Was he sincerely concerned? Or was he worried that she was about to learn something that would cost him his job? He wasn’t on Danielle’s list, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t involved in whatever was going on. Maybe he’d asked her to keep him out of it because of his wife and kids or was just smarter than the others.…
“That’s my decision,” she said.
“I’m afraid Dr. Fitzpatrick wouldn’t approve.”
He wouldn’t. Word would get back to him that she’d broken protocol again, and they’d have another argument. But if she didn’t take this chance and later learned that she should have, she’d blame herself. And if she failed at everything she hoped to accomplish, if she let Jasper or any other killer beat her in the end, what would her life matter, anyway?
“Fitzpatrick doesn’t control me,” she told Kush. “But … wait right outside the door.”
He dipped his head. “You bet I will.”
“I’ll be okay.” She had no idea whether or not that was true, but Hugo had her firmly on his hook. What could he tell her? Could it really help?
