by Brenda Novak
“And you do?”
“As well as anyone. He’s been … having sessions … with me almost since … Hanover House opened.”
“What are those sessions about?”
“He … claims he’s … studying my sexual response to … women. But the only woman … he ever shows me pictures of … is Evelyn. He knows … that’s what really … excites me.”
“What kind of pictures are they?”
“Pornographic ones.”
Amarok felt his jaw clench. “And where does he get those?”
“I think he makes them … on Photoshop. Her head … other women’s bodies—bodies that are engaged in … sex acts.”
So why weren’t they in the file Evelyn found?
Because he had to take them to the sessions. They were probably in his briefcase.
Amarok was almost afraid to hear the answer to his next question. “What does he say when he shows you these pictures?”
“He talks about how good it would feel to fuck her. What do … you think?”
“That’s why you’re convinced he loves her?”
Again, Amarok had to wait. He wasn’t sure how much longer Hugo would be capable of talking; it was sapping his energy.
“Partly,” he said at length. “I think … he came up here believing … she’d eventually see that they were … meant to be together. That loneliness and a … a love for the same kind of work would … lead to a relationship. But … shit, even the isolation of this … remote place hasn’t … been enough to drive her into his arms, and … it’s my guess that he’s realizing nothing … ever will.”
“That makes him angry.”
He nodded. “Fills him with rage.”
“Enough to commit murder?”
“Look how he’s been … disrespecting her. If he could do that … why not more?” He attempted another chuckle. “Besides, murder isn’t as … difficult as you might think.”
This man would know. “Dr. Talbot wasn’t that close with Danielle,” Amarok pointed out.
“He killed Danielle … to protect his reputation, like I said, and to … to torture Evelyn—make her believe her worst fears are coming true.”
What Hugo said sounded plausible. The evidence supported the scenario he’d described with Danielle. But could Fitzpatrick be the cold-blooded killer Hugo made him out to be? Or was Hugo trying to destroy someone he hated?
Evelyn admitted that the inmates had no love for her fellow psychiatrist. She’d also mentioned how well they could lie—not that Amarok would’ve assumed otherwise.
“What do you feel for Evelyn?” Amarok asked.
Hugo’s eyes grew more focused as they riveted on his. “I’d kill you this instant if … if I thought doing so would … make her want me instead.”
Instead? Amarok stood. How did this guy know the lead psychiatrist at Hanover House had any interest in him? Hugo had been behind bars since arriving in Hilltop, had never seen them together, and that wasn’t something he guessed she would mention. “What makes you think I mean any more to Dr. Talbot than anyone else?”
His smile turned sly. “Fitzpatrick told me.”
Amarok thought of that picture of Evelyn in her bra taken from outside her window. Was her fellow psychiatrist following her? Stalking her?
“And you’re the only reason she … let me get close … enough to speak with her in private the … other day,” Hugo added.
“She told me you lured her over by telling her my life was in danger,” Amarok said.
Hugo seemed to study Amarok intently. “I wasn’t … making that up.”
Amarok leaned close. “Fitzpatrick is no threat to me.”
“That’s where … you’re wrong.” He struggled for more breath. “Fitzpatrick is a threat … to everyone.”
After shoving his hands in his pockets, Amarok fished out his keys. He had to return to Hilltop, had an appointment with Tim Hancock. “Thanks for your time.”
“Or it could be Jasper,” Hugo called after him as he turned to go. “You can’t rule him out … just in case.”
Amarok sidestepped a rolling tray. “Do you know anything about Jasper being in Alaska?”
Once again Hugo closed his eyes, but this time Amarok didn’t get the impression he was going to sleep. The deep grooves in his forehead suggested he was continuing to battle his weakness and fatigue. “No, but we both … know it’s possible,” he said. “Far as I’m concerned … it has to be one or the other. My bet’s on … Fitzpatrick. You have no idea how … sadistic that son of a bitch can be. The shit … he’s said and done … to me. But you’d be a fool to … to ignore that there was … another man who wanted to destroy her long … before he did.”
“I’ll make a note of that.” Irritated he’d come all this way for confirmation of the obvious, where Danielle was concerned, and a few vague warnings, Amarok stepped into the hall. But he held the door open because he had one more question. “Why would Fitzpatrick want to work with psychopaths if he was one?” he asked.
Hugo managed to laugh but winced at the same time. “You’re kidding, right? Where else … could he get away with … so much?”
24
In my lifetime I have murdered 21 human beings, I have committed thousands of burglaries, robberies, larcenies, arsons and, last but not least, I have committed sodomy on more than 1,000 male human beings. For all these things I am not in the least bit sorry.
—CARL PANZRAM, SERIAL KILLER, ARSONIST, THIEF, BURGLAR AND RAPIST
“Courtney? Can you hear me?” Evelyn gripped the phone so tightly she was almost losing the feeling in her left hand, but she had to get through to Garza’s ex, enlist her cooperation.
“I’m here,” came the reply. “It’s just … I can’t help you. I admire you. I really do. And I’m sorry for … for what you’ve been through in the past. When I got your letter, I went on the Internet to look you up, and I read about your … experiences. What you’re trying to do at Hanover House is admirable. But I want … I want to forget Anthony Garza, to pretend he was never part of my life.”
“I understand,” Evelyn said. “He’s a very difficult and dangerous individual. I’m sure he caused you a lot of pain and degradation, but … if you are truly sorry for what I’ve been through—and you’d like to stop other women from suffering the way we both have—I need you to tell me everything you can about him.”
“Why?” she said. “Why go back and revisit that? He’s in prison for the rest of his life. It’s over.”
“For you, maybe. But I believe he’s committed far more murders than the ones he’s been charged for. The detectives investigating the Porn Poser are convinced he’s their man. That’s at least six more deaths right there. But they can’t give the families of those victims any closure without proof.”
“Proof won’t resurrect the dead.”
That was justification and fear talking. “It will answer their questions. Allow them to stop fighting for the truth. Give them more peace than they have now.”
“If I get involved, if I talk, Anthony will kill me! I’m the only wife he’s had that he hasn’t murdered.”
How could Evelyn convince her?
While she searched for just the right approach, she toyed nervously with the note Glenn Whitcomb had left with that brownie he’d tried to deliver to her last night. Besides letting her know he hadn’t been able to learn anything about the transfer order, it said he’d brought a treat up from the kitchen because Lorraine wasn’t around to do that type of thing for her anymore, which was thoughtful. She needed to call him next. “Anthony will never get out of prison, Courtney,” she said. “You said so yourself.”
“If only I could rely on that. But he’s not quite forty. He’s got a lot of years left to live. And you know how things go with prison sentences. Maybe Hanover House will get too crowded, and they’ll let him out. Anything can happen.”
Evelyn understood those fears probably more than anyone else. She shared them. But she had to convinc
e Courtney to come forward. “He’s a convicted serial killer. He won’t ever go free.”
“Says you. I can’t stake my son’s life on that!” she cried, and hung up.
Letting go of a long sigh, Evelyn shoved that note and the accompanying brownie away and sank deeper into her seat. But she didn’t put down the phone. She kept staring at the handset, willing Courtney to come back on the line. The statement she’d made—if I talk—had grabbed Evelyn by the throat. Courtney knew something, something important.…
“Dr. Talbot?”
Evelyn shifted her attention to Penny, who’d poked her head in.
“The hospital called a minute ago. Hugo Evanski tried to escape and wound up going into cardiac arrest.”
Oh no. Not this. “Is he dead?” she asked.
“The doctors are fighting to save him.”
She gave a single nod to acknowledge that she’d heard. She preferred Penny leave her to cope with the news alone, and Penny did—albeit hesitantly. Her assistant didn’t know how to interpret her subdued response. Evelyn probably seemed strangely distant, but she was screaming inside. Somehow, someway, she had to get on top of what was going on and put a stop to it!
Finally setting the phone on its cradle, she checked the schedule, saw that Glenn wasn’t due to come in until after noon and called him at home.
“I had no idea any of that was going on,” he said, sounding shocked once she told him about Danielle and Kush and Petrowski. “How could they be doing that right beneath our noses—and keep it so hush-hush?”
“They were careful, I guess.”
“Those bastards! They probably got Danielle killed. Maybe Lorraine, too. I swear to God, if that’s the case—”
“Glenn, don’t even think that way. Let the law handle it, however it turns out.”
“It would just be so wrong!”
“Who knows what all was going on. But … will you do me a favor?”
“Anything. You know that.”
“Will you continue to keep your eyes and ears open? Now that you know what’s been happening, maybe you’ll pick up on something.”
“Of course. It’s just…”
Surprised by the reluctance in his voice, she hesitated. “What?”
“I hate to even bring this up, but … you don’t think Dr. Fitzpatrick could be involved. I mean, from what I’ve seen, he’s the one who’s been acting strange.”
Her stomach tightened into knots again. Where had he gotten Tim’s name? She hadn’t led him there, hadn’t mentioned anything about her fellow psychiatrist. “Strange in what way?”
“It could be nothing, which is why I haven’t mentioned it. But when I went to escort Hugo back from one of their sessions together, it just … felt very odd, as if something had been going on that shouldn’t be, you know? I heard Hugo say, ‘God, it was good to finally get a piece of that ass.’ Then Dr. Fitzpatrick saw me and silenced him with a quick shake of his head. That makes me wonder if … if he wasn’t aware of the whole thing.”
It made her wonder, too. But she’d already been wondering about Fitzpatrick’s culpability—even in the murders. “There’s no telling who’s involved. Only Kush and Petrowski are for sure busted. They’re about to be suspended. Hopefully they’ll talk and we’ll find out more. But, in case they don’t finger everyone, let me know if you learn anything.”
“I will.”
“Thanks,” she said, and disconnected before coming to her feet. She had a meeting with the warden to talk about the forthcoming suspensions, since neither Kush nor Petrowski were working until later, and to discuss who else Ferris felt might be involved. Then she planned to view the videotapes of Fitzpatrick’s sessions over the past few weeks. Doing so would keep her from her regular work and it was a shot in the dark—those tapes might not reveal anything important—but she had to go through them, just in case. At least they’d give her a glimpse into his recent life, show her who he’d been talking to and what he’d been saying, even how he’d been acting—with some of the COs as well as the inmates.
“Dr. Talbot?”
Penny was back at the door. “Yes?”
“Warden Ferris is waiting for you. He said you left an urgent voice mail that you needed to meet with him this morning.”
“Tell him I’m on my way,” she said. But she caught Penny before Penny could leave, asked her to let Ferris know it’d be another fifteen minutes and called Courtney back.
The phone rang so many times Evelyn assumed it would go unanswered. Her heart sank—but then she heard a timid, “Hello?”
Renewed hope charged through her. She had another chance. “Courtney?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry to bother you again. I really am. I don’t like upsetting you. But someone has to fight Anthony. Do you understand? If that has to be me, I’m willing. But in this instance, I can’t do it alone. I need you to take a stand with me, to help me put a stop to the terror that is Anthony Garza.”
“And what about my son?” she asked, breaking into tears. “Danny’s only eight. Imagine how I’ll feel if he gets hurt or killed!”
“I can’t promise you that won’t happen.” Evelyn had to be honest; Courtney needed to be aware of the chance she’d be taking—especially since, in the fervor of her desire to get Courtney to help, Evelyn had stated so unequivocally a few minutes earlier that Anthony would never get out. “But if Anthony Garza succeeds in intimidating you, in keeping you silent, he wins. He gets away with killing those poor women. And here’s the thing. We don’t really have a choice. We have to stop him and others like him.”
“You have no idea what he’s like,” she responded. “How strong and determined he can be. After what I’ve learned over the past two years, I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
“Is he the Porn Poser?” Evelyn asked.
There was a long silence. Courtney wanted to talk; Evelyn could sense it. “Courtney, please. Help me.”
“I have something here,” she said at length.
Evelyn sat up straight. “What is it?”
“A … oh God, I swore I’d never do this, never put myself in Anthony’s sights again.”
Evelyn could hear the waver in her voice. “I understand why you’d make yourself that promise. No one understands better than I do.”
“If he ever gets out—”
“He’ll be a lot less likely to get out if what you know ties him to another murder—or, better yet, a string of them.”
After a protracted silence, Courtney said, “It’s a credit card.”
“A credit card?” Evelyn repeated.
“Before Anthony went to prison, he showed up at my house, out of the blue. I don’t even know how he found me, which is partly why I’m so scared. Once I reached Kansas, I thought he was out of my life for good. But he knocked on my door one day and asked to see my son.”
“Your son isn’t his son?”
“I had Danny before Anthony and I got together. But Anthony considers himself Danny’s stepfather and claims to love him.”
“So what happened?”
“I’m ashamed to say I let Danny go with him for the day. He has an anger problem, but he’s never hurt Danny, Danny was begging to go, and I hadn’t yet heard about the murders. I didn’t even know that Anthony had had so many other wives, let alone that they were dead. I was still blaming myself for most of the stuff that went wrong in our marriage—he was good at making me feel responsible.”
“Psychopaths have a knack for that,” Evelyn broke in. “So how’d Danny’s day with Anthony turn out?”
“Luckily, fine. But when Anthony brought Danny home, Danny had a sack of candy with him. It was close to dinnertime, and I didn’t want him eating any more of it, so after Anthony drove off, I took it away. I was going to toss the wrappers and save the rest. That’s when I found the credit card.”
“It wasn’t Anthony’s.…”
“No. It was”–she paused as if she almost couldn’t say it aloud—“it h
ad a woman’s name on it: Elaine Morrison.”
Elaine Morrison! She was one of the victims of the Porn Poser.
“Did he come back for it?”
“He didn’t. I never saw him again. I’m not sure he’s even aware of where it went. He’s not the most organized person in the world.”
Penny popped her head in again to remind Evelyn that the warden was waiting, but Evelyn waved her off. “What did you do with that credit card?”
“I have it here. I figured it belonged to whatever new woman was in his life. So I put it in the cupboard in case he asked about it. I’m just lucky he didn’t, and that I didn’t have a number for him, or I would’ve called to let him know. I had no idea he was accused of murdering someone by that name. It wasn’t until a week or so later that my cousin told me he was being charged for killing three women who had all been married to him at one time. And right about then, the news broke about an Elaine Morrison’s body being found at the ski resort not far from where Anthony lived. It just … gave me chills. I can’t explain how, but I knew in my heart that he was to blame before that detective even started calling me.”
“Detective Green has reached out to you?”
“On several occasions.”
“You never told him about the credit card, though?”
“I couldn’t! I didn’t dare. Anthony was going to prison. I figured that was good enough.”
“But it’s not,” Evelyn argued gently. “You understand why.”
“I do. In my heart I’ve always known.”
“So will you come forward? Tell Detective Green what you told me?”
There was no response.
“Courtney, let’s hold Anthony accountable for his actions. Will you do it?”
Still nothing.
“Don’t let him beat you—beat all of us!”
At last, Courtney sniffed and muttered, “Okay.”
Evelyn leaned on her desk, nearly spent from the adrenaline coursing through her body. “Thank you. I can only imagine how grateful Elaine’s family will be. And the other victims, too. This might be the link Detective Green needs to charge Anthony with all six of the Porn Poser murders.”
“Will Anthony find out I’m the one who came forward?” she asked in a small voice.
