by Brenda Novak
Surprise registered on Terrell’s face. “We shouldn’t be worried? Who’s he going to attack next?”
Jasper clicked his tongue to show skepticism. “This is such a small community. A stranger would stand out. We’d be able to spot him a mile away.”
“Yeah, well, no one’s spotted him so far, and yet we have a woman who’s missing and very likely dead.” Terrell threw a bill on the counter and got off his stool. “I’m just glad I live in Anchorage.”
“Yeah. Me, too,” Jasper said.
“See you at work.”
Jasper nodded good-bye. Then he saw Evelyn get up to leave. She was taking Amarok’s Alaskan malamute with her, which meant she was going home alone. No doubt the dog was supposed to protect her.
Jasper told himself to do nothing, to let her go. He’d be much smarter to lie low and let the shitstorm he’d kicked up blow right past him.
But if he’d left something he didn’t know about at the cabin, some piece of evidence that could be traced back to him, the storm wouldn’t blow by.
This could be his only chance.
14
When Evelyn got home, she was surprised to find Phil’s truck sitting in front of the house. What was he doing here? Surely he knew Amarok wasn’t home.
She waited for Makita to jump out before she closed the door of her Toyota Land Cruiser. “Looks like we’ve got company, boy.”
Amarok’s dog followed her to the truck, but Phil wasn’t in it. Evelyn turned around, thinking she must’ve missed seeing him waiting on the porch, but he wasn’t there, either.
Since Makita had already set out to mark his territory, she whistled to call the dog from the telephone pole, which was about the only thing he could reach, thanks to all the snow, and went to let them both in.
The door was locked, as she would’ve expected, but Phil opened it from the other side before she could get out her key.
“Hey there,” he said. “You’re home, huh?”
Evelyn blinked at him. “Yeah, I’m home. What’s going on?”
“Amarok didn’t tell you?”
“No.…”
“He called me to say he isn’t sure he’ll make it back tonight. He’s going out to that cabin, wants to throw on a pair of snowshoes and take a look around, see if it would be possible to walk to another cabin in the area.”
“This late?”
Phil rubbed his beard growth, which was turning gray, and gave her his usual amiable smile. “It’s dark eighteen hours a day this time of year. What difference does it make?”
She didn’t like the idea of Amarok being out in the mountains alone, especially now that they were fairly certain they were looking at two murders. Two dead people suggested a different kind of killer, one far more dangerous than what might initially be expected from a missing person case. “He’s had so little sleep. And he’s already worked hard today.” She didn’t want him to encounter Jasper or anyone like Jasper when he was compromised in any way.
“Amarok can take care of himself,” Phil said.
Against the elements, maybe. Against the wild animals he’d lived with all his life and the occasional drunken and disorderly asshole. But he’d never come up against someone as callous and evil as the man who’d nearly killed her. Jasper would stop at nothing to gain the advantage and he wouldn’t fight fair. She didn’t care if Amarok was a big, strong man; a bullet or a knife, especially one coming at him unexpectedly, could kill him, just the same as anyone else.
“I’d rather he went out there tomorrow, after he’s had some rest.” Intending to call and see if she could convince him to wait, she started for the phone, but Phil stopped her.
“You won’t be able to reach him. He’d just decided to go when he was leaving the Moosehead, which is why he only called me. He said he couldn’t reach you.”
“How’d you get in? Did he bring you the key?”
“No, he told me to let myself in with the key in his desk.” He gestured at the counter, where he’d put the house key Amarok had given him.
She felt a little better knowing that having Phil watch over her for the night had come as an afterthought to Amarok, that he hadn’t sat there all through dinner and simply not said anything. He was so worried when she left the bar, he’d called Phil to ask for this favor, which wasn’t quite as high-handed as it might have seemed. If she hadn’t gone to pick up a file she’d forgotten from Hanover House and then stopped at Quigley’s to buy coffee and a few other staples, she might’ve had some input on the matter. But since it’d taken her an hour to get home, Phil was right. Amarok would be gone.
She set her purse on the counter and picked up Sigmund, who’d started rubbing against her legs. “I can’t put you to the trouble, Phil, not when you have your own family to worry about.”
“If Amarok thinks it’s necessary for me to stay here, I’m willing.”
“That’s the thing. Amarok doesn’t know if it’s necessary. Neither do I.”
“Better safe than sorry,” he said.
Evelyn almost insisted he go home. She couldn’t expect someone to look out for her like this. But her head was pounding and she was exhausted. With Phil in the house, she’d be able to sleep without fear, and having the opportunity to do that was too tempting to resist.
“It’s really nice of you.” She smiled to show her gratitude. “You have your gun, right? Just in case?”
He wasn’t in uniform. He lifted his bulky sweater to show her his revolver. “Makita will let us know if anyone’s out and about. And if we get company, I’ll do the rest.”
“That’s comforting,” she said. But even after she went to bed, she kept thinking that if Makita wasn’t with Amarok, who’d let him know if he had company?
* * *
Jasper didn’t slow down as he passed the sergeant’s house. He didn’t want to look like he was creeping around if anyone happened to notice him. He was just making an initial pass, anyway. Provided it all looked safe, he’d drive by again, a little slower, and decide if it was really wise to go to the door.
He checked his watch as he’d been doing every few minutes since he saw Evelyn leave the Moosehead. He’d given her ample time to drive home and get settled in. He’d thought it would be smart to wait a bit to make sure Amarok wouldn’t be joining her after stopping by the trooper post.
Amarok’s truck wasn’t there, but Jasper saw some other vehicle parked out front.
As he came to a stop at the end of the street, he left his blinker flashing to indicate he was about to turn and paused to stare into his rearview mirror.
Whose vehicle was that? He recognized it and yet …
“Phil Robbins,” he said aloud. “Of course.” Terrell Hillerman had just mentioned Phil to him at the bar, but the truck in front of Amarok’s house wasn’t the one with the plow. It was another vehicle, possibly his wife’s, that Jasper had seen him drive occasionally.
What was he doing here?
Whatever it was, Jasper doubted he’d stay long.
“Get your ass moving,” he grumbled, and scanned the area to see what else he might have to contend with. When he’d learned where Evelyn was living, he’d looked up Amarok’s address on Google Earth probably a million times. He even had a map of it pinned up on the walls of his new dungeon. But he’d been down this street only twice—last winter when he saved Evelyn’s life and now. Drawn to it though he was, he’d been militant about staying away. He had no reason to be over here and couldn’t risk seeming too interested. He’d always told himself the time would come, and he hoped that time was now.
Jasper scoured the area for lights, vehicles, people, and saw nothing to be concerned about. Amarok didn’t have any close neighbors, but Jasper viewed that as both a positive and a negative. He couldn’t simply pull up in front of another house, turn off his truck and, while he waited, pretend he was visiting someone else. He’d be too conspicuous if he was seen.
The lack of people in the neighborhood gave Evelyn less chance of r
eaching help, however. It also meant he could fire a gun without bringing anyone running and any noise she made wouldn’t matter. If he could only get Evelyn out of the house without being seen, his original plan might still work. He could keep an eye on the investigation, see if it drifted anywhere near him. If it did, he could kill her and leave Anchorage. And if it didn’t, he could keep her indefinitely—or until he grew bored, if that was even possible with a victim he’d craved for so long.
“Come on … come on.” He wanted to see Phil walk out, climb in his truck and drive away. He’d purchased a gun from a dope dealer in the same area where he’d picked up Kat—one that wasn’t registered—but he couldn’t shoot Phil and the dog and still be assured that Evelyn wouldn’t escape in the process. He had to wait for Phil to leave; the dog would be enough to handle.
Grabbing the steering wheel in a death grip, he drove back into town. He hesitated to return to the bar. He thought it would look strange that he’d left and then returned when he didn’t live in the area. He could sit outside in the parking lot, though, make it seem as if, when he left earlier, he’d been too drunk to drive. But just sitting there doing nothing would be agony. He needed stimulation, satisfaction, the thrill he’d been denied for so long.
After passing the Moosehead, he went to Quigley’s Quick Stop and perused the aisles, eventually buying a package of sunflower seeds and a six-pack of beer. He was too agitated to drink any more than the whiskey he’d had earlier. Too much alcohol would make him sloppy. He didn’t particularly care for drugs or alcohol, anyway—hated being impaired or out of control. Although he sometimes used them as tools, like he had with the stupid stripper he’d picked up on Friday night, what he really enjoyed was torture.
He sat in the lot eating seeds and spitting the shells out the window for a while, then glanced at his watch again. He’d managed to whittle away twenty-five minutes. He figured that should be long enough to risk going back to the house. He was too cold to sit there any longer.
Once he pulled onto Main Street, he checked every business he passed to see if he could spot the sergeant’s vehicle. Amarok wasn’t at the Moosehead or The Shady Lady and, other than Quigley’s, everything else was closed.
As he turned off the main drive, he hoped to find the sergeant’s truck outside the trooper post, which was only a block away. That would mean Amarok was working late. Jasper would have to move fast, since Amarok could return home at any moment, but he didn’t think it would take long to get Evelyn out of the house once the coast was clear. After all, she knew him as one of her COs. He’d saved her life last year. It didn’t matter that saving her hadn’t been his intention. She thought he’d intervened for her sake, so he’d use that in his favor. The moment she saw him through the peephole, she’d open up—especially if he told her he’d found Leland’s sister’s body. She’d have no reason to doubt or fear him, would completely understand why he might appear at her house so late, asking for Amarok. And when she let him in, he’d shoot the dog and drag her to his truck.
But Amarok wasn’t at the trooper post. The lot was empty, the building dark.
Damn it! Did that mean the sergeant had gone home?
“No!” Jasper groaned, and, calling Amarok every foul name he could think of, headed back to see.
The sergeant wasn’t there, but Jasper felt no relief. Phil’s truck was parked in the same spot as before and all the house lights were off.
This time, Jasper couldn’t help slowing as he rolled by. It looked like Evelyn had gone to bed.
So what was Phil doing?
Maybe Phil wasn’t there. Maybe he’d left his vehicle and gone somewhere with the sergeant.
That had to be it, Jasper thought. Amarok had left Evelyn with his dog, thinking Makita would keep her safe. Little did he know! Jasper would have Evelyn in his cellar trying out those new restraints within an hour or two.
He flipped the car around, intending to pull into her drive. But as he drew closer, he began to realize how recklessly he was behaving. He couldn’t go to the door unless he knew for sure that Evelyn was alone. He’d have only one chance at this, couldn’t allow his impatience to tempt him into making a mistake.
Speeding up instead of slowing down, he turned the corner, suddenly eager to get as far away from Amarok’s house as he could. This had been a shitty week, and today topped all the days before.
He’d get Evelyn soon, he told himself. Right now, he needed to head home and relax, wait patiently until the timing was right.
But he was too riled up to even think about going to bed. He had so much adrenaline rushing through him he felt he could wrestle a bear. So instead of driving toward Anchorage, he took Nektoralik Road to the cabin where he’d killed Kat and Leland’s sister. He’d cleaned up after his first kill, but he’d been in such a rush when he’d strangled Sierra—not knowing when Leland and whoever was with him would return—that he might’ve left something behind.
He should’ve torched the cabin the day Kat died—left her body in the downstairs bedroom tied to that bed and burned the whole thing to the ground. He’d been trying not to put Amarok on high alert, but given the recent sequence of events, Amarok had been primed for trouble, anyway. There was no reason to risk leaving any evidence for him to discover.
He just hoped it wasn’t too late. What with the recent storms, there was a small chance Amarok hadn’t been able to process the scene as thoroughly as he might’ve liked. Or he could’ve missed something that he’d find later.
Jasper punched the gas pedal as he sped out of town. Maybe he could rectify that error, he thought—if, in fact, he’d made one—and felt a certain amount of relief. At least he was keeping busy. At least he was doing something that would thwart Amarok’s attempts to track him down. That brought him a degree of pleasure. It couldn’t compensate for the disappointment he felt at not being able to get Evelyn tonight, but it was something. He needed to be satisfied with that until he had the opportunity to do more.
It would come.…
He kept a gas can in the back of his truck. In these parts, a lot of people did, so it wouldn’t be considered unusual. With the changeable weather, one had to be prepared at all times.
He couldn’t wait to see Amarok’s reaction to having the cabin go up in flames and spent the entire drive relishing how frustrated, disappointed and angry the sergeant would be.
Once Jasper was close, he hid his vehicle in the trees and traveled the last part on foot. He was still thinking about how furious Amarok was going to be about losing the crime scene when he saw the trooper’s truck in the drive.
* * *
Amarok was breathing heavily by the time he reached the only other cabin within walking distance, but he couldn’t really call it a cabin. It was more of a one-room shack with no running water or electricity.
Getting there hadn’t taken long, but the hike was arduous, since it was farther up the mountain and there was no clear path between the two places. He was excited at first. He thought this would be the perfect place for a killer to lie in wait—close enough to watch what was going on but not close enough to be noticed.
His excitement dimmed, however, as soon as he forced open the warped front door, which wasn’t even locked. There was no evidence of recent habitation. No pots or pans or utensils. No bedding. No food or traces of a recent fire. Dust covered everything, and it was thick and undisturbed.
Whoever had kidnapped and/or killed Sierra Yerbowitz hadn’t been here, Amarok decided. No one had.
So now what? If the person he was searching for hadn’t followed Leland’s party, he—assuming it was a he—had to have some reason to be in the area. What had drawn him? Why was he here? If Amarok could figure that out, he might be able to create a list of potential suspects.
The beam of his flashlight flickered. The batteries were failing. Adjusting his assault rifle, which he’d slung over his back, he smacked the light, trying to keep it going as he started down the mountain. The thick canopy of branche
s overhead blocked out even the moon’s rays, but he wasn’t too worried he’d be stranded in the dark. If he could keep his flashlight working until he reached the halfway point, the light he’d left on in the other cabin would guide him from there. Then he’d get some new batteries out of his glove compartment and study the woodshed again. He’d found some interesting marks on the headboard and footboard of one of the beds downstairs. He’d categorized them as normal wear and tear, but after taking a closer look he’d decided those marks could’ve been made by a rope rubbing against the finish. The possibility that the perpetrator had used restraints, plus the blood on the mattress, made Amarok wonder if a lot more had happened at the cabin than he’d initially believed. That meant the vomit in the woodshed might mean more than he’d thought, too. He wanted to see if he’d missed evidence of someone being tied up or dumped there.
The flashlight held out longer than he’d expected. He was almost back when he heard the crack of gunfire, coming from the cabin or somewhere nearby. He froze, too shocked to move until another shot rang out. He had no idea where the first bullet had gone, but the second bullet must’ve hit a branch above his head, because pine needles showered his face. That was the moment he realized that someone was firing at him.
Dropping to the ground, he snapped off his flashlight so he wouldn’t be such an easy target.
A third bullet struck a nearby tree trunk. He heard the shot and the corresponding thwack. Although his heart was racing and his adrenaline pumping, Amarok wondered if this was the man he’d been looking for since he’d met Evelyn.
It almost had to be Jasper, didn’t it? Who else but their mortal enemy would appear at the cabin where a woman had recently been kidnapped and probably killed, see his trooper vehicle in the drive and come after him?
Or was that wishful thinking? Because if it was Jasper, Amarok was beyond excited that he might finally have the chance to confront him, to fight back, instead of feeling so damn helpless as Jasper terrorized the woman he loved and harmed other innocent people.
