Hello Again

by Brenda Novak

  Evelyn hated to think that might be the case, but she had to admit it was possible. Not all of those in corrections were above reprisal. “If someone went out to check on her, would she even open the door?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Are you the one who taught her to be so cautious?”

  “Of course. Would you want a ten-year-old opening the door if you weren’t home? There are some sick people out there.”

  Was he trying to be funny? Or did he really not see himself as one of those “sick” people?

  Either way, Evelyn didn’t comment. She was more concerned with the possible emergency at hand. “You’re saying that this Teralynn Clark has done nothing to alert the authorities to Beth’s situation.”

  “I can’t say for sure. I’ve written Teralynn, as well, asking her to check in, but haven’t received a letter from her, either.”

  “Can you give me Teralynn’s number?”

  He rattled it off from heart.

  “Not many people bother to memorize phone numbers these days,” she said.

  “I don’t memorize them,” he told her. “I have a photographic memory.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

  He came to his feet. “Does this mean you’re going to make sure Beth is taken care of?”

  His relief seemed sincere. “It does. It also means I’m going to ask her where we might find the body of Jennifer Hall’s dead sister.”

  She watched for any alarm on Lyman’s part, but he merely shrugged. “Good luck with that,” he said.

  Because she’d already signaled into the camera for the COs to remove Bishop from the room, the door behind him opened right when she wished she had another few seconds with him. So far, Bishop had been careful to say and do all the right things. He’d managed to plant a tiny seed of doubt in her brain that a man who’d taken such loving care of his mentally handicapped younger sister could also kidnap, rape and maim innocent young women at random. But there’d been something in his “good luck” that set off alarm bells in her head—a cavalier attitude that indicated he was unconcerned with the threat of punishment. Maybe he was even eager for the challenge trying to manipulate her presented.

  “You did it,” she said. “I know you did it.”

  He didn’t get the chance to respond. She wasn’t even sure he understood what she meant, and she didn’t explain. It was enough that she knew he’d killed those women, that he wasn’t an innocent party unjustly locked up.

  But it wasn’t ten minutes later that her faith was shaken—thanks to a call from her mother.

  “Have you heard the news?” Lara asked.

  It’d been a long week. Evelyn wanted to sink into her seat and kick off her heels. Instead, she remained standing; she could tell that her mother was upset. “No. What are you talking about?”

  “Mandy Walker.”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s been kidnapped and murdered.”

  Limp and suddenly cold despite the fact that she’d been plenty warm a moment earlier, Evelyn supported herself by using the desk until she could ease into her chair. “You’re talking about the Mandy I knew in high school, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. She was in your class, remember?”

  How could Evelyn forget? Although she and Mandy had lost touch soon after graduation, they’d hung out a great deal during senior year. Mandy and four or five others had been part of the group of friends that had once included the three girls murdered by Jasper. After Marissa, Jessie and Agatha were gone, Evelyn had grown closer to Mandy than any other friend, as close as she could tolerate in the immediate aftermath of her attack. Fear of loss had hampered her relationships ever since and was a problem she encountered even with Amarok. Sometimes she’d wake up in a cold sweat, thinking Jasper had killed Amarok just because she loved him.

  “I can’t … I can’t believe it.”

  “Her ex-husband found her when he went to drop off their kids. Can you imagine?”

  No, Evelyn couldn’t imagine. What were the chances that four of her high school girlfriends would die by the hand of someone else? “What was the manner of death? Was she beaten or—”

  “They don’t know yet,” her mother broke in. “The poor thing had been tortured so badly they couldn’t immediately tell what killed her. The autopsy should reveal more.”

  “She’d been tortured? Like me?” Evelyn’s words came out a mere whisper, but her mother must’ve heard, because she responded correctly.

  “Maybe worse. Even if he’d let her live, she would’ve been impaired for life. I read in the paper that whoever killed her gave her a frontal lobotomy.”

  Evelyn bolted upright. “What’d you say?”

  “You heard me. He purposely damaged her brain!”

  “With an ice pick,” she muttered.

  There was a moment of stunned silence. Then her mother said, “How’d you know?”

  5

  Evelyn was still staring at her computer, reading and rereading the article she’d pulled up on Mandy Walker’s slaying, when Penny knocked and stepped into the room. “Dr. Talbot?”

  With a steadying breath, Evelyn pulled her gaze from the screen. “Yes?”

  Penny looked confused. “I’ve been buzzing you. Why haven’t you answered?”

  Evelyn had been so caught up that she hadn’t heard the noise. She’d blocked out everything else, couldn’t quit thinking about the bodies of the three friends she’d discovered in the shack where she’d been tortured herself twenty-one years ago. Their images would be forever etched in her mind. “I was concentrating on something. What is it, Penny?”

  “Dr. Fitzpatrick is on the line.”

  “Fitzpatrick?” Evelyn hadn’t heard from him since he quit Hanover House and left Alaska a year ago—and she’d been glad for that. As far as she was concerned, he’d gotten off easy after what he’d done, even if his career was all but over. “I have nothing to say to him. He knows that, and so do you.”

  “I told him you wouldn’t accept his call, but he insists he has something to say that you should hear. It involves an old friend of yours—a Mandy Walker?”

  How did he know she was friends with Mandy? Regardless, she’d heard the news and wasn’t about to give him the opportunity to get involved in her life again. Sure, she would never have been able to establish Hanover House without his support. She’d been relatively new to the industry when she started lobbying for a place to study psychopaths in depth. It was his sterling reputation that had helped solidify the necessary backing. But during the years they’d been associated, he’d become infatuated with her. There at the end, he’d even stalked her.

  She grimaced as she remembered how he’d tried to kiss her when they were working late one night and how he’d turned on her after, when she refused him.

  These days, she didn’t even like the sound of his name.

  “I’ve heard the news,” she said.

  Although she expected Penny to leave right away, her assistant lingered in the doorway.

  “What is it?” Evelyn asked.

  “I feel kind of sorry for him. I know he caused a lot of problems last year, problems that could’ve led to the closure of Hanover House, which would’ve ruined everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve. I don’t blame you for being angry. But he’s apologized several times. He feels bad; he just told me so again. And I think he’s sincere.”

  Penny could afford to be sympathetic. She didn’t know about the stalking behavior, only that he’d performed some “inappropriate” studies with the men and sabotaged Evelyn’s ability to run the institution. That was what Evelyn had told the press, too. She’d had to smooth everything over to some degree, couldn’t give the impression that she didn’t have control of the facility and its staff. Her detractors would pounce on that immediately. There were too many dangerous men inside of Hanover House to allow for any internal strife.

  “I’m not holding a grudge,” Evelyn said. “We simply have
no reason to remain in contact with each other.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell him,” Penny responded, but she was so reluctant to do that that Evelyn changed her mind.

  “Fine. I’ll tell him myself,” she said. “Put him through.”

  The door closed. Then Evelyn’s phone began to ring.

  A bone-deep reluctance almost caused her to go back on what she’d said. Amarok wouldn’t like her engaging Tim Fitzpatrick, and, psychologically speaking, Amarok had the right of it. But, telling herself she’d make it quick and get it over with, she picked up the phone. Maybe if she finally allowed her former colleague to say what he wanted to say, “the end” would really be “the end.”

  “What can I do for you, Tim?”

  “I’m not looking for any favors,” he said.

  “Then what?”

  “I’d like to apologize.”

  “You’ve already apologized. Several times.”

  “To everyone around you, to anyone who would give you a message and tell you how terrible I feel, but not directly to you.”

  “Because it’s not necessary. An apology won’t change anything.”

  “I hate that I’ve lost your respect, Evelyn. All I ask is that you give me a chance to redeem myself.”

  Redeem himself? In what way? If he thought she’d ever work with him again, he couldn’t be more mistaken.

  “Tim, we started the first research center of its kind. That put us under a lot of pressure. Moving to a place so foreign to both of us added even more stress. It’s understandable that there would be some hiccups in the beginning. Let’s be grateful we were able to accomplish what we did and agree to go our separate ways.”

  If it helped him to believe she could dismiss what he’d done that easily, fine—as long as he stayed out of her life.

  “I was going through a difficult time,” he said. “I’d lost sight of who I am and what I want to be. Please don’t define me by my worst deeds. Now that I’m not actively engaged in … in anything productive, I’m lost, Evelyn.”

  She closed her eyes. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow him to prey on her humanity. He was suffering the consequences of his actions. He needed to go about rebuilding his career without her. “That isn’t my problem, Tim.”

  “But don’t you see? When you become unsympathetic, you’re no better than they are.”

  A shot of indignation stiffened her spine. “‘They’? Please don’t tell me you’re comparing me to the psychopaths we study!”

  “No, of course not,” he said. “I’m just saying that you’ve never been a hard-hearted person. Surely you can understand how … how I got caught up and … and made a mistake.”

  “Tim, I wish you well. But I’d rather not have any contact.” She wasn’t about to let him cajole her into accepting him back into her circle of associates. It was bad enough that his protégé, Russell Jones, still worked at Hanover House. After what happened with Fitzpatrick, she’d thought Russell would give up and quit. He hated Alaska. But he hadn’t turned in his resignation and didn’t act as if he was going to. Was Russell’s continued presence the reason Fitzpatrick thought he could weasel his way back in?

  “Even on a professional basis?” he asked as if he was shocked.

  “You said you weren’t calling for a favor.”

  “But we have so much in common. We both live to work. We both enjoy the same kind of work. We’ve both made groundbreaking strides in psychology. And we could do so much more in the future if we collaborate. Certainly, affording me a few crumbs of professional help, now that I need you instead of you needing me, can’t be asking for too much.”

  “We tried working together, Tim. You couldn’t maintain the professionalism required to be successful as a team.”

  “But I was never any real threat. Look at you. You have everything. You’ve got Amarok”—whom he’d treated as a romantic rival; he’d even suggested that she was overreaching by dating such a younger man and Amarok wouldn’t stand by her in the end—“and a successful career,” he continued. “The sky’s the limit for you.”

  “Where are you going with this, Tim?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’d like to work again, to be useful in some way.”

  Her boss at the Bureau of Prisons wouldn’t allow it even if she relented. “Janice would never agree.”

  “Now that the emotions of the last year have calmed down and Hanover House is on a strong footing, you could put in a good word for me. Maybe she can use me at a different prison, if not Hanover House.”

  “There’s no chance of that.”

  “Then include me informally—on a consultation basis. I’m not asking to be paid. Not at first. If I prove myself, perhaps our association could evolve into a paid position. I have to be part of something that matters or my life has no meaning.”

  He had no right to ask her for anything. “Penny said you were calling about Mandy Walker,” she said.

  “I was. In case you haven’t heard, she’s been murdered.”

  The way he blurted that out told her he didn’t care how it might affect her. He was contacting her for his own sake. But she wasn’t going to accuse him. “I know. My mother just called with the news.”

  “I thought Mandy’s death might have something to do with Jasper. It’d be like him to try to hurt you by killing more of your friends, wouldn’t it? As some sort of message?”

  An uneasy prickle rolled down Evelyn’s spine. The thought had crossed her mind, which was why she’d immediately searched for whatever she could find on the murder. But hearing someone else say those words made what had been a sneaking suspicion that much more viable.

  She prayed whoever killed Mandy wasn’t Jasper. If it was, there was a strong possibility he might target more of her friends. She was the one he wanted, but since she was out of reach, this was a perfect way to land a blow from thirty-five hundred miles away.

  “The perpetrator performed a lobotomy,” she said. “That doesn’t sound like Jasper.”

  “No, that sounds like Lyman Bishop.”

  She gripped the phone tighter. “I see you’ve been keeping up on what’s happening here at Hanover House.”

  “Of course. Hanover House was my baby, too. I can’t help being interested. The whole country is interested in what’s going on up there. The fact that Bishop was sentenced to Hanover House brought up the old arguments about whether such a place is worth the investment, whether it’s safe, whether it’s even possible to treat such men. You’re familiar with the litany of our opponents.”

  Our opponents. He still included himself.

  “They’re painting it as a showdown—you against the latest and greatest in twisted psychopaths,” he said.

  “I wish the press would stay out of it and let me do my job.”

  “You have to be careful where they’re concerned. Public opinion is important—and you could easily lose it.”

  How ironic that he’d point out the danger! He’d done as much as anyone to besmirch the institution’s reputation.

  Or was that some kind of veiled threat? Would he try to sabotage her again?

  “I understand what’s important here,” she said.

  “What’s Bishop like?”

  The change in subject led her to believe he was trying to keep her on the line as long as possible, to reestablish their old camaraderie. “He doesn’t come off like a killer. But you, of all people, know that most of these men don’t.”

  “He’s been in the news a great deal. So have the gruesome details of his crimes. Jasper could have read about his methods. Maybe he decided to emulate them.”

  “Someone else could’ve read about his methods as easily as Jasper. It’s even possible that we’ve incarcerated the wrong man.”

  “Do you honestly believe that?”

  She recalled the moment when she thought she’d noticed a telltale sign that Bishop was guilty. Could she trust what she’d learned from dealing with so many psychopaths over the years? Or was she merely preju
diced by how many times she’d interviewed guilty men who tried to paint themselves as innocent? Psychopaths were such convincing liars, and Bishop could be better than most. According to various studies on the brain, lying required more intelligence than telling the truth. “No. How did you hear about Mandy, Tim?”

  “I live here, remember? It was on the news.”

  “I’m terribly sorry about what’s happened—more than I could ever say. But … I’m wondering how you knew she was a friend of mine. I’m sure I’ve never mentioned Mandy to you before. I would have had no reason to. Don’t tell me that was on the news.”

  “It was! Your association with the victim is not something the press is going to miss, Evelyn. You’ve been in the public eye too much yourself for that detail to go unremarked.”

  “They connected it that soon? Her body was found yesterday!”

  “Some journalist is doing his job. He’s familiar with your story, where you’re from, and with the fact that Jasper already murdered three of your other friends—and was never caught. That’s a sensational piece, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I’ll be honest, Tim. I’m not comfortable with having you get involved.”

  “Seriously? You’re still holding a grudge?”

  “You act like what you did wasn’t any big deal!”

  “It wasn’t!”

  “What? You spied on me! Took photographs of me changing clothes. Superimposed my face over pornographic images you used in various studies with the dangerous men I interview on a weekly basis.” And, although she didn’t mention it because she knew he’d only try to justify his actions, in the end, before he was exposed, he’d undermined her authority and tried to usurp her position at Hanover House.

  “But I never touched you, never actually hurt you.”

  “So? You could’ve cost me this institution!”

  “You would never have gotten that place off the ground if it wasn’t for me. I’ve been going stir-crazy—for a whole year—with nothing of any import to do. Have some pity, for God’s sake. Isn’t leaving Hilltop in shame and being exiled for twelve months punishment enough?”

  She recognized several things that were oddly familiar in his response. A lack of true remorse. Mitigating excuses. An unwillingness to accept the consequences of his own actions. The way he minimized what he’d done in order to make her feel as if she were overreacting. It scared her. Once again, he was behaving more like the men she studied than the renowned psychiatrist she’d once believed him to be.