by Brenda Novak
“You can go to hell!”
She feigned surprise. “You’d rather protect whoever it was out of spite? You can’t care about them. You just arrived here.”
“Maybe I like having something you want.”
Leaning forward, she planted a kiss on the glass, leaving a perfect imprint with her lipstick. “And maybe I like having something you want,” she said, and headed for the door.
“I’ll find out eventually,” he called after her.
“True, but the way these things go, it could take months to get the information from whatever public defender they wind up assigning to your case,” she said as she moved.
“I’ll be in here forever, anyway. What does time matter?”
“It doesn’t matter—not to me.” She made a careless gesture with one hand. “Forget I said anything. The COs will be here to take you back to your cell in a few hours.”
“What are you talking about, hours?” he cried. “You can’t leave me in here that long. There isn’t even a bed.”
She paused with her hand on the knob. “There’s a chair. Use that.”
“This ain’t right!”
“Consider it part of your therapy.”
“The cruel and unusual punishment part?”
She laughed as if he were being silly. “This hardly qualifies. Anyway, who’s going to care? There isn’t a person in this world who gives a damn about you.”
“My parents do!” he insisted.
“Too bad they’ll never hear about it, then.”
“I’ll write them!”
“Don’t waste your time. That letter will never leave the premises.”
“You bitch!” he screamed, kicking the plexiglass. “Someday I’m gonna slit your throat and drink your blood.”
“Now stop.” She added a laugh. “You’re getting me excited and I have to work.”
“Wait!”
Halfway out the door, she froze—then turned slowly back to face him. “Yes?”
His expression changed, grew indifferent. “You’re right. I don’t give a shit about anyone here.”
Or anywhere else, she thought. She could’ve added that but felt she’d antagonized him enough. “So…”
He used his hands—both, since they were shackled—to rub his shaved head. “It was that dickhead Kush.”
She caught her breath but refused to let her surprise register on her face. “You expect me to believe it was a CO?”
“If you think COs never do anything wrong you’re even more naïve than I thought,” he said.
“Was it just Kush? Or was there someone else who encouraged you to stab Hugo?” Maybe someone like Petrowski? Or Fitzpatrick? She wanted to know but didn’t want to suggest any names.
“Someone else? Like who?”
“I’m asking you.”
“No. And if there was, I’d say. What do I care if Kush loses his job and goes to prison? Maybe it’ll do him some good to be on the other side, for a change. Maybe it’ll imbue him with a little empathy.”
An ironic statement, coming from a man for whom empathy was a complete mystery.
Adopting a neutral expression, Evelyn went back inside and allowed the door to close. “Or you could be looking for some sort of revenge.”
“You’re the only one I’m dying to hurt.”
She believed that. “Fine. But there must’ve been something in it for you.”
“Why? I like to kill. I did it for the fun of it.”
She didn’t believe him. “Okay”—she tapped a finger against her lip—“I’ll have your cell tossed, see what we can come up with—”
He called her a bitch again. But when she started to go as if she really was done with him this time, he hurried to catch her. “Drugs, okay? Kush said he’d get me an eight ball of coke and a few explicit pictures of the girl who was killed screwing the guy I was supposed to shank.”
Kush again. God, how could he be that depraved?
No doubt he’d loved showing Anthony what he could get away with at Hanover House, who held the real power in this prison.
“Did you make the weapon?”
“There was no time for that. He provided it. Then he pointed out the guy who needed to dance on the blacktop.”
Was this true? She’d hoped Kush’s crimes stopped at prostitution. But if he’d go that far, maybe he’d go even further. “Did he deliver on his promises when it came to the dope?”
“It’s all in my cell if you don’t believe me. Are you going after it?” he added as if that would be highly unfair.
“Of course.” Those pictures were evidence. “But … if you’re cooperative, I’ll make you a deal.”
He glared at her. “I don’t like dealing with you.”
“Even if it’s in your best interest?”
He idly kicked his chains around. “What do you want?”
“If we go back to your cell together, right now, and you turn over those illicit pictures, I’ll wait to order the search.”
“Until…”
“Next week.” By then, the drugs would be gone—they’d probably be gone if she gave him any time at all—but the eight ball was the least of her problems. The pictures were what mattered. She couldn’t risk not being able to find them or having them destroyed. “You know how busy it can get around here.”
“Maybe you’re not a total bitch,” he said. “I’ll take that deal. But now it’s your turn to give me the information I want.”
She’d made the only concession she could make today, which was partly why she’d offered it—to be as fair as possible. “I will as soon as I can confirm that what you’ve told me is true.” She didn’t see how Anthony could ever hurt Courtney or her son, but she preferred to wait until Detective Green had Elaine Morrison’s credit card so that harming Courtney wouldn’t benefit him, anyway. “I’ll meet with you again when I have what I need.”
“Hell no!” he cried. “Tell me now!”
“Waiting a few days is still better than waiting months to hear from your lawyer,” she pointed out.
“I swear to God I’m going to kill you!”
She tilted her head. “If that’s the way you’re going to be, I guess I’ll have the COs toss your cell right now, find the pictures, remove the drugs and use the fact that we discovered contraband to order a body cavity search—which will need to be repeated twice daily indefinitely to make sure you’re clean.”
He banged his head on the glass so hard it started bleeding. But she didn’t react, didn’t jump back in fear or rush to get him help. This time, she’d been prepared for his temper.
They both stood their ground, glaring at each other.
“What’s it going to be?” she asked calmly. “And if you think knocking yourself silly might help you decide, feel free to bash your head all you like. It doesn’t hurt me.”
“You’re no kind of shrink.”
“Because I won’t allow you to manipulate me through my humanity? I guess that’s too damn bad.”
His nostrils flared as he continued to try to intimidate her. But then, when he realized he wasn’t going to get the upper hand, not today, he said, “Fine. I’ll give you the damn pictures. But you’d better hope you never find yourself alone with me.”
She wrinkled her nose as she looked him up and down. “You think that scares me? I’ve been attacked by much bigger and stronger men than you.”
* * *
Evelyn marched along with the pictures from Garza’s cell tucked under her arm, so angry with Kush and Petrowski she could hardly see straight. As if two murders weren’t tragic enough, she was dealing with some significant corruption and, if Hugo died, a third death.
Was Kush behind Danielle and Lorraine’s murders, too?
She supposed it was possible, but she couldn’t see Kush doing what had been done to Lorraine. That had been a rage-filled attack, a classic lust killing. Was he really that kind of man?
Although … if Garza could be believed, Kush had ordered Hugo shank
ed in the yard.
She entered the administration area intent on calling Amarok to report what she’d learned, but the moment Penny and Linda saw her they hurried over.
“Fitzpatrick’s gone,” Penny announced, reaching her first.
Evelyn came to a halt and looked from one to the other. “What do you mean, gone?”
“He packed up his things and left while I was at lunch,” Linda said.
“I was here,” Penny told her. “He made several trips.”
“And he did this with no explanation?”
“None. He has appointments this afternoon, too. I checked the master calendar and tried to remind him that he had a busy afternoon. I even asked if I should tell Linda to cancel those appointments. But he wouldn’t speak to me. The way he was rushing around, I could tell he was upset, but he wouldn’t say why, where he was going or if he’d ever be back.”
Evelyn’s gaze strayed to the open doorway of her office. She considered calling down and having the COs stop Tim before he could drive off the premises, but she had a sinking feeling it was too late. “When, exactly, did this happen?”
Penny checked her watch. “About an hour ago.”
“He left before I could even get back from lunch,” Linda complained.
Circumventing both women, Evelyn strode to Fitzpatrick’s office. Sure enough, it was bare. Even his degrees had been removed from the wall. He wasn’t just taking off early so he could enjoy a long weekend.…
The filing cabinet she’d broken into had a drawer hanging halfway out. He hadn’t bothered to remove most of his files. Perhaps he figured they were so heavy they’d take too long. But the file on her was gone. She noticed that right away.
She crossed to the window and gazed out, hoping to spot his Escalade below.
Unfortunately, since most of the parking was covered, she couldn’t tell if it was there or not.
“Dr. Talbot?” Linda said from behind her.
“Yes?” she replied absently, still straining to see.
“Can you tell us what’s going on? Is it that Dr. Fitzpatrick and you have decided you can no longer work together, or … or what?”
What Linda really wanted to know was how this latest development would affect her job. Evelyn heard it in her voice. But she couldn’t provide an answer. She didn’t know. “I’m afraid I can’t clarify what he’s doing,” she replied. “I have no idea. He didn’t say a word to me.”
Keeping the pictures she’d collected from Anthony Garza with her, she hurried to her own office. She called down to the sally port from there, but the COs told her Dr. Fitzpatrick was long gone. When she couldn’t reach him at his house, either, she tried to alert Amarok by calling his trooper post.
Phil Robbins answered. “Sergeant Amarok’s office.”
“Phil, this is Dr. Talbot.”
“Hello, Doc. How are you?”
God, it was hard to get by without the use of cell phones. It was hard to believe that the rest of the country used to be this way—except the rest of the country didn’t get snowed in quite so often. “Fine, thank you. Listen, Amarok isn’t there by any chance, is he?”
“No, hasn’t been in all day, which is why I’m stuck on the blasted phones.”
“I’m sure it’s a big help to have you there,” she said. “Can you tell me where he is?”
“Last I heard he was over at Hanover House. You haven’t seen him?”
Both Penny and Linda had gravitated to her office. She’d been too preoccupied to bother closing the door.
“No,” she told him. “But I haven’t been in my office for most of the day.”
“Hang on. I’ll get him on the radio.”
“Thanks.” She waited two or three minutes. Then Phil came back on the line.
“He’s with the warden, arresting Officer Kush, but he’ll stop by soon.”
“Is it true what Dr. Fitzpatrick said?” Penny asked when she was off the phone.
Evelyn frowned, her mind going in a million different directions. “What?”
“That you’re infatuated with Sergeant Amarok?”
She rocked back. “Would that be so hard to believe?”
“Not really,” Penny replied. “I mean … I guess I just never imagined you as…”
As being anywhere close to his age? Was that what was coming next? Evelyn braced for it, just in case. “As?”
“As having any interests outside work,” Linda supplied.
Evelyn hadn’t—until she’d met Amarok. That was what frightened her. She was falling in love with entirely the wrong person, someone she could never hope to keep even if she remained in Alaska. She had trust issues. Getting with a younger man, one so many other women desired, wasn’t going to help.
“Sometimes things change,” Evelyn said.
“We all need outside interests,” Penny said. “You can worship at his feet along with the rest us,” she added as if that were all Evelyn could ever hope for.
Evelyn glanced away. Little did Penny know she was doing a little more than that.…
26
The more I looked at people, the more I hated them.
—CHARLES STARKWEATHER, TEENAGE SPREE KILLER
Anthony Garza lay awake in solitary confinement, staring at the ceiling while waiting for the man he was expecting. That man had promised to let Anthony out of “the hole,” out of the entire prison, so that he could do what he wanted to do more than anything else in the world—which was get his hands around Evelyn Talbot’s throat.
He rested his arm over his eyes as he listened for footsteps. Where was the bastard? Couldn’t be much longer now. The note Anthony had been passed had indicated it wouldn’t be late when it happened, and he had no reason to doubt the promises in that message. For one, he’d since been provided with a guard’s uniform. For another, he’d received directions to the place Evelyn was most likely to be when she wasn’t at the prison—the Alaska State Trooper’s house where she was currently staying. Why would he be given those things if he wasn’t really going to be freed?
Besides, the person he was dealing with had an exemplary track record. Anthony had been asked to shank Hugo Evanski and had been shuttled out of solitary and into the yard, hadn’t he? Why would this be any different?
There was some serious shit going down in this prison.…
He remembered Dr. Talbot glaring at him when she said, I’ve been attacked by much bigger and stronger men than you. How dare she taunt him! He’d show her just how minimal her previous experiences had been. And he couldn’t wait. He’d kill her slowly, enjoy every moment. He could already feel her pulse weakening beneath his fingertips as he crushed her windpipe, which caused his own heart to race with excitement.
She’d tell him exactly what Detective Green had on him—with her last breath. That would be good information to have in case he was ever caught again. But he didn’t plan on returning to prison. He’d be gone by the time they found her body, and the guy who was letting him out knew it, said he needed the diversion. With one of the guards fudging the morning count, there should be just enough lead time.
The footfalls, when Anthony heard them, sounded steady and confident. This was a man who knew what he was doing, a man who could get things done.
Anthony could respect a dude like that.
* * *
Evelyn seemed far more remote than Amarok had expected, after last night. He’d been dying to see her again, but when he tried to catch her eye, to get her to smile at him, she wouldn’t even meet his gaze. After he walked in, she closed the door and gave him a wide berth as she circled to her desk—very professional, all business, as if they’d never slept together.
“Phil said you wanted to see me,” he said. “What’s going on?” He’d hoped it was for personal reasons. Despite all the pressure he was under, he’d been anxious to catch a glimpse of her. But he could tell this wasn’t an “I miss you. Last night was great.” It was something else, something far less welcome.
“Did y
ou know that Dr. Fitzpatrick has packed up his office and left?” she asked.
He felt himself stiffen as he bit back a curse. “When?”
She glanced at her watch. “About an hour and a half ago.”
Shit. “What’d he say?”
“Nothing. He did it while I was on the prison side. Penny told me when I came back—and I checked. His office is empty, except for a number of files on old patients that couldn’t be very valuable to him, anyway. He took the one on me.”
Amarok shoved a hand through his hair as he tried to decide how this might impact his case. What was going on with Fitzpatrick? Was he running? “Actually, I’ve got that file. I spoke to him earlier, made him give it to me.”
She seemed to breathe a little easier. “What’d he say when he found out you knew?”
“He was humiliated. He has a lot of pride. Have you tried to reach him?”
“He’s not answering at his house. Penny mentioned to me—”
“Penny’s your assistant, right?” He had so many names, places and people in his head right now, and he was going on so little sleep.…
“Really?” she said. “As crazy as she is about you?”
Evelyn didn’t act like she was teasing. Amarok got the impression that Penny’s admiration wasn’t working in his favor where she was concerned.
“Why would I remember her?” he asked. “She has nothing to do with this case. And she’s not the woman I’m interested in.”
She looked up at him then, really looked at him for the first time since he’d walked into her office. “Who are you interested in?”
“Who do you think? I want you, Evelyn.” He was tired of messing around, of second-guessing what she might be thinking or feeling or what she might do if he revealed the level of his interest. He didn’t want to scare her off, but as far as he was concerned, it was too late to pretend it wouldn’t sting if she rejected him. When he thought of her, he felt something he’d never felt before. And if last night had shown him anything, it was that there was something about Evelyn Talbot that fit him perfectly—despite all the reasons they could both list as to why that should be otherwise.
