by Brenda Novak
“CO by the name of Cooper saw me an hour or so ago and tried to offer me a ride, thanks to my smart uniform and all.”
Glenn had provided him with a CO’s uniform. Until he opened his mouth and showed those strange teeth, he could easily be mistaken for an employee. “That was a stroke of luck,” he said, “since he happened to know right where you lived.”
Her mouth was so dry she had a difficult time speaking. She kept thinking about what Anthony had done to Elaine Morrison and his other victims. By the time he was finished having his fun with her, she’d be found dead, with her body positioned in the most humiliating manner possible. She wouldn’t put it past him to strip her and Glenn both and shove Glenn’s genitals into her mouth or something equally disturbing.
She couldn’t stomach the thought of Amarok discovering her like that, couldn’t bear the idea of her parents hearing about it. “He-he was coming here, bringing Glenn some money,” she managed to say.
“Yeah, well, he didn’t quite make it all the way and won’t be doing much of anything from here on out.”
Evelyn squeezed her eyes closed as images of the shack where Jasper had kept her for three days paraded through her mind. She’d been treated worse than an animal there, could easily guess that what she faced with Anthony wouldn’t be much different. “You should leave,” she said, sliding away from him. “Right away, if-if you hope to escape.”
Emboldened by the quaver in her voice, he rested his hands on his hips as if he had all the time in the world and let his gaze range over her. “I’ll go when I’m good and ready. I have a few things I’d like to accomplish here first.”
Frightened on a level Glenn could never have achieved, Evelyn began to tremble. Glenn had been normal. He hadn’t been a good person. He’d been a selfish bastard not much better than the psychopaths she studied. He would probably even score fairly high on Hare’s test. But at least she could understand Glenn’s actions and motives and follow his logic.
She couldn’t count on logic or reason to understand or influence Anthony. He wasn’t thinking about self-preservation; he was only thinking about how much he was going to enjoy torturing and killing her. After all she’d learned in her studies, she recognized the overinflated view he possessed of his own abilities. That type of thing characterized so many psychopaths. No doubt he thought he could get what he wanted and still walk away in the end.
Sad thing was, with Amarok in Anchorage for the day, he probably would be able to escape.
“I’m sure you realize this now, but they won’t be charging me with those Porn Poser killings,” he said. “They’d have to find me first. But I’d still like to know what they have on me.”
She struggled to remain calm, to take advantage of the opportunity to stall. “It doesn’t matter if you won’t be around, does it?”
When he stepped on her ankle to keep her from being able to move any farther, she barely stopped herself from crying out. “I’m curious. So I suggest you tell me. Otherwise, I can promise you’ll be begging to tell me anything I want to know in about fifteen minutes—if not less.”
“Your last wife—”
“Courtney.”
“Yes.” Evelyn pressed a hand to her chest, hoping it might help regulate her breathing. “You-you accidentally delivered Elaine Morrison’s credit card to her with the candy you bought her son.”
“No kidding.” He put more pressure on her ankle, grinding it into the travertine. “You contacted Courtney?”
Evelyn was having a difficult time controlling the quaking of her limbs. The pain from her ankle didn’t help. “Yes. And she-she’s turned that evidence over to police.”
“Because of you,” he reiterated.
When she didn’t confirm it, couldn’t confirm it for the panic flowing through her, he leaned close. “Because of you?” he repeated.
The look in his eyes told her she had to answer, and there was only one answer she could give. Her heart seemed to lodge in her throat as she nodded.
“Great. Then I’m happy for this chance to express my gratitude.” His hand fisted in her hair and he jerked her head back so hard she thought he might break her neck. Then his mouth came down on hers, and his tongue shoved its way through her lips.
Evelyn gagged. But it wasn’t until he broke away, set the gun aside and started undoing his pants that she understood just where he planned to start this painful odyssey.
Bile churned in her stomach. She couldn’t endure what was coming next and she knew it—even if she survived it physically.
Again, she marked where her gun had fallen. She wasn’t sure she could grab it and turn it on Anthony in time to preserve her own life. But if making the effort didn’t work and she died, at least she’d be more likely to die a quick death.
She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of torturing her, of making her scrape and beg and humiliate herself. She’d been through that once with Jasper and had promised herself she would never go through it again.
He didn’t seem surprised when she lunged forward. He seemed to expect it, to be ready. He would’ve shot her right then if he hadn’t heard what she heard—the door opening and a voice saying, “Here, kitty, kitty!”
Kit. The gunfire a few minutes earlier must’ve finally drawn him to the house. But her poor neighbor wasn’t the least prepared for what he was walking into.
“Run!” she screamed.
He didn’t. He remained in the doorway, gaping at them. Anthony wasn’t about to let him get away, regardless. He turned to fire—and that gave Evelyn the split second she needed to grab her own firearm. She pulled the trigger as soon as she could—and kept firing until there were no more bullets. Then, shaking and gasping for breath, she watched as he fingered the holes she’d put in his chest as if he couldn’t believe the red stains spreading out on his shirt could really be his own blood.
“You bitch!” he cried, and lifted his weapon.
Evelyn raised her arms—a futile gesture. But he fell before he could take aim. And then he didn’t move.
Tears rolled down Evelyn’s cheeks. Was he dead?
She had no idea, and she didn’t dare get close enough to check. It wasn’t until she heard Kit whimpering on the doorstep that she forced herself to move. She needed to see if he was okay. She couldn’t quit shaking, her hands were bleeding where she’d broken several of her nails and she could hardly walk on the ankle Anthony had tried to crush. But she was alive—and she needed to help her neighbor, if she could.
Because her legs were too rubbery to support her weight, she fell back when she tried to stand. But she managed to drag herself over to the door and was relieved to find Kit curled into a ball, very frightened but unhurt.
“Kitty,” he moaned, over and over.
Evelyn forced herself to get close enough to Anthony Garza to retrieve his gun. Then she set both firearms to one side, yet still within reach, put her arms around Kit and pulled him close so he no longer had to see the lifeless bodies a few feet away. “I’m sure Sigmund misses you, too,” she said. “I’ll bring him by to see you as soon as I can.”
32
After my head has been chopped off, will I still be able to hear, at least for a moment, the sound of my own blood gushing from my neck? That would be the pleasure to end all pleasures.
—PETER KÜRTEN, GERMAN SERIAL KILLER CALLED THE VAMPIRE OF DÜSSELDORF
“What are you thinking about?” Amarok asked.
Evelyn kissed his bare shoulder and snuggled closer to him in the warm bed. “Dean Snowden and Steve Dugall.”
“Why are you thinking about them?”
“They performed the morning count when Anthony Garza wasn’t reported missing.”
“How do you know?”
“The warden e-mailed me earlier to see if I was okay and to let me know that he’d discovered the breakdown there. They were both dismissed on the spot.”
“You were going to fire them anyway for having sex with Danielle and not reporting the corruption.
”
“True, but I was hoping to be able to wait a couple of weeks. I didn’t want to lose too many correctional officers at once. We still have a prison to run.”
His hand came up to cup her breast. “So will you have enough manpower?”
“I’m sure we can limp by. Ferris says he’ll get some more help as soon as possible. Our current situation just isn’t … optimal.” She adjusted the blankets. “How are you even awake after the long hours you’ve put in this past week?”
“Who knows? At least we can sleep in tomorrow, enjoy our Sunday.”
“I can’t believe what’s happened is over.”
His hand left her breast and his fingers moved through her hair. “Neither can I. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I told you—I’m fine.”
“You’ll probably be black-and-blue tomorrow.”
She shifted so she could rest her head on his chest. “I’ve got a few bumps and bruises, and my ankle’s swollen and sore, but that’s it.” She remembered the look in Anthony Garza’s eyes. It could’ve been so much worse.…
“Is that all we have to worry about?” he asked. “The physical side of your injuries?”
She hesitated before answering, searching for the answer to that question herself. “I think so,” she said at length. “Coming up against Garza was frightening, but it was sort of empowering, too.” She drew a heart on his chest. “I won that struggle.”
“You were just starting to trust men again.”
“No.” She lifted up to peck his lips. “I was starting to trust you, and I still do.”
Makita got up from where he’d been sleeping on the floor and walked over to stick his nose in the bed. He hated to be left out of anything. Evelyn laughed out loud when he jumped in a second later.
Amarok didn’t seem to mind. He moved over to make room and pulled her with him. “I like the sound of that.”
“What happened with Garza—that was minor compared to Jasper,” she explained. “I didn’t love Garza, so it wasn’t such a personal betrayal. It ended before he could torture me. And he’s dead, so he can’t come after me again. Those are important distinctions.” The thought that Jasper was still out there somewhere cast a shadow over her relief and happiness, but she shoved that shadow away. She was still looking for him. She’d find him eventually, and she’d see justice done there, too. “I’m relieved, more than anything—that Kit wasn’t harmed, that Glenn also got what he deserved and that the nightmare is over. Now all of Hilltop can rest easy,” she finished.
“Does that include me?”
Evelyn leaned on one elbow. They’d left the light on in the hall so that Makita could come and go as he pleased, which meant she could see Amarok’s profile. “What do you mean?”
“Are you planning to move back to Boston after everything that’s happened here? Maybe in the spring?”
She thought of that last call with her father, wasn’t sure how to ease the strain her refusal to return to Boston was causing. But she wasn’t ready to go back. “No.”
“Will you give me that same answer after you’ve talked to your folks?”
That was what had him so pensive? He thought what they had might be over before it ever really got going? “I’ll call them first thing in the morning and assure them they don’t have to worry any longer. I would’ve called tonight, but it’s been a long day, what with getting Glenn and Garza’s bodies to Anchorage. Besides, it’s so much later there. I didn’t see any point in waking them just to assure them they’ll now be able to sleep at night.”
He rolled onto his side, too, facing her, and punched up his pillow. “What will you tell them about me?”
“I’ll say I’m dating an Alaska State Trooper who’ll look after me while I’m here.”
“Will you add that we’re living together?”
“Not yet. I figure it’ll be better to start with the fact that I’m finally dating someone,” she said with a chuckle.
Closing the gap between them, he ran his lips over the curve of her cheek. “How do you think they’ll react to that news?”
“They’ll be shocked and excited. They might even quit bugging me to come home,” she said wryly. “They’ve been pushing me to move on, to find a man, since forever.”
“Just not in Alaska?”
“Exactly. Closer to Boston,” she admitted. “But you’re my first boyfriend since Jasper. That makes you significant.”
“Let’s see if I can become a little more significant,” he said, and rolled her onto her back.
She caught his face. “You want to make love?”
“I want to bring you to climax, and I think now’s the perfect time.”
The fear of failing at something so integral to being a woman welled up again. “We can do it later,” she said. “You’re too tired tonight.”
“Quit being such a chicken,” he said. Then he showed her that he had all the stamina he needed—and that she’d been worried for nothing: her body could perform as well as any other woman’s.
* * *
The following morning, Evelyn called her parents, who were so relieved that the killer had been caught they managed to muster a little support for her continued presence in Alaska, especially once they learned about Amarok.
After she hung up with them, she rode with Amarok and Makita to Anchorage, where they met his father, Hank, and his father’s wife, Joanna, for dinner. Evelyn liked the old guy. Hank was a weathered fisherman, a man of few words, but she could tell that Amarok respected him. She respected him, too, sensed a great deal of strength in his quiet reserve. She especially enjoyed witnessing their father-son dynamic. She even liked Amarok’s stepmother. Evelyn had been worried that his father might not be pleased with the age difference between her and Amarok, but he didn’t act as if he even noticed.
Maybe he hadn’t. She seemed to be the only one hyperaware—and hypersensitive—to those seven years. It wasn’t like she was robbing the cradle. Most people wouldn’t be able to tell there was much of a difference, just those who already knew. Anyway, Hank and Joanna had been much more captivated by her injuries and the story of what’d happened the past week than they were critical of her relationship with their son.
Once she and Amarok returned home, they cozied up in front of the fire for a while before tidying the cabin, doing laundry and getting ready for another workweek. Evelyn felt guilty for not going into the prison over the weekend. She’d meant to show some leadership, to reassure HH’s employees. But after that struggle with Glenn and Anthony Garza, she’d needed the chance to recover.
Besides, there’d never been a time like this, when she so thoroughly enjoyed being with a man. She didn’t want to miss out on a single moment.
On Monday, Amarok insisted on taking her to work so that she wouldn’t have to drive her Beamer. As they passed her car, which they’d parked in the drive next to his truck, she noticed that he’d stuck a For Sale sign in the window.
“You’re selling my car without my knowledge?” she asked.
He patted Makita, who was coming with them. “That’s my way of notifying you.”
“If I sell my car I’ll be more likely to stay. Is that your thought process?”
“My story is that I won’t be able to quit worrying about you as long as you’re driving that thing”—he shot her a grin—“and I’m sticking with it.”
“So it has nothing to do with getting me to stay.”
“I’m not sure I can completely deny that, but a small sedan, one that doesn’t even have snow tires, is too impractical either way. Can’t you get something else?”
“To be honest, I’ve already come to the conclusion that I should,” she admitted. “But I can’t imagine I’ll have any luck selling this kind of car here.”
“No one in Hilltop would buy that pansy-ass thing,” he agreed. “But”—he winked at her—“now that I have your permission, I’ll place an ad on Craigslist for Anchorage.”
“We might have
better luck if we wait until spring,” she pointed out.
“You need a four-wheel drive even if the Beamer sits parked in the driveway for the rest of winter.”
He was right. “I guess I could swing another payment,” she said, especially because she was going to sell her cabin. No way could she live there after finding Danielle’s arm in her bed—and fighting Whitcomb and Garza for her life in the entryway. She hoped one of the psychologists she hired to replace Brand or Fitzpatrick might be interested in it. But, depending on how long she lived with Amarok, she should save more than enough on mortgage payments to pick up some added car expense. “What should I get instead?”
“An SUV would be nice.”
They talked cars until Amarok pulled under the portico of Hanover House to let her out. “What time should I pick you up?” he asked.
“I’ll call. Will you be at your trooper post?”
“For a change.”
She gave Makita a scratch as she leaned over for a quick kiss from Amarok—and felt happier than she’d ever been.
With a final wave, she hurried inside and spoke to everyone she came across to let them know that, no matter what’d happened last week, Hanover House was going to be just fine and so were they.
Penny glanced up the second Evelyn walked into the mental health section. “Hi.”
“How are you?”
“Good,” she said. “You still coming over to get Sigmund tonight?”
“I am. Six thirty okay?”
“Fine with me, but … I’m going to miss him.”
“I hope he and Amarok’s dog will be nice to each other.”
Penny blushed but made no comment about Evelyn’s new living arrangements. “You have two messages,” she said, turning to business. “One from a Detective Green in Utah. He said to tell you he has the credit card, whatever that means.”
That didn’t matter quite as much now that Anthony was dead. “And the other?”
Penny bit her lip. “Janice Holt with the BOP wants you to call her right away.”
Evelyn’s heart skipped a beat. “She’s back from New Zealand?”
