by Brenda Novak
Evelyn felt her stomach muscles tighten. “Did she explain how she would’ve stopped it?”
“Said she has some sway with the folks around here. That they would’ve listened to her, banded together and made sure the ‘damn’ thing was built somewhere else.”
Taking a deep breath, Evelyn threaded her fingers together. “I guess we can be glad she wasn’t around then.”
“Samantha asked me about you, too,” Stacy said.
“What about me?”
“She wanted to know how old you are.”
Evelyn curled her fingernails into her palms. “Did you tell her?”
“No. I said it was none of her business.”
“And she said…”
“That you’d have to be a lot older than Amarok to have accomplished all you’ve accomplished.”
“How nice of her to bring that up.”
Stacy’s mouth took on a derisive slant. “See what I mean?”
Amarok insisted the seven years between them didn’t bother him, but they bothered her. She had enough insecurities, what with trying to overcome her past so she could trust again. She didn’t need to add any more doubt into the mix.
Leave it to Samantha to go right for the Achilles’ heel of their relationship. “Did she act like she’s expecting to get him back?”
“She acted like that’s why she came home—to claim what’s ‘hers.’” Stacy gestured toward all the land that lay beyond the window. “Not just Amarok. She acted like everything in Hilltop belonged to her and we’re mere interlopers.”
“She may have a point. You plan on going back to Maryland eventually, don’t you?”
“I do. When I accepted the job, I committed to five years. I won’t stay longer than that. I could take it, but my husband couldn’t. He’s already anxious to go home.”
“Most everyone else will go when their commitment is up, too.”
“I think the question is whether you’re planning to go back—at least for her.”
Could she abandon her family permanently when her mother was so afraid for her up here? Give up the future she’d always envisioned for herself once she had Hanover House up and running and on stable political ground and settle here permanently?
When she hesitated, Stacy gave her a sympathetic look. “I can see you’re not ready to tackle that question quite yet.”
“No.”
“Then I wish you luck figuring it out. I just wanted to warn you that Samantha might not make your experience here very pleasant—and to tell you not to let her bother you. She can’t hold a candle to you, and I’m sure Amarok would know that better than anyone.”
Except Samantha fit in in Hilltop. And that was as important as anything else, wasn’t it?
Evelyn offered her colleague a feeble smile. “Thank you for that.”
With a confident nod, as if she didn’t doubt it, Stacy left to get her files and head home.
After she finished packing up her briefcase, Evelyn called Charlotte to see if her old friend was feeling safe and secure this evening or if she’d seen or heard anything that would give them reason to believe there might be trouble.
“Hello?”
The low, raspy male voice that answered definitely didn’t belong to Charlotte. It didn’t sound like a normal human being—was more like something from a horror movie.
“Hello?” Evelyn said. “Who’s this?”
“Evelyn, I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to hear your voice,” came the response. “When I saw Hanover House come up on caller ID, I couldn’t resist answering.”
Her breath caught, and she began to sweat. She couldn’t say she recognized whom she was speaking to. He was whispering as well as disguising what he normally sounded like. But something about the way he’d said her name, the familiarity behind it, made her nauseous. And then there was the obvious—why would someone like that be answering her friend’s phone? “Is Charlotte there?” she asked above the rapid boom-boom-boom of her own heart.
She heard a low snicker. Then he said, “I’m afraid she’s a bit … indisposed at the moment.”
“Jasper?” she cried, but he’d already hung up.
* * *
Amarok was at the Moosehead. Evelyn saw his truck as she drove home and wanted to stop. She knew he’d expect her to. But she had to get near a phone. She imagined Samantha being there at the bar, too, hoping to reconnect with him and catch up. Even if Evelyn weren’t worried sick about Charlotte, she wouldn’t want to witness the two of them together. She was already wrestling with jealousy—not because she distrusted Amarok or thought he wanted to get back with his ex, but because she believed he’d be better off with Samantha (or someone else, anyone who didn’t bear her scars or the responsibility she’d taken on as a consequence of what she’d experienced). Although Amarok didn’t give that much consideration when she spoke of it—said he’d catch Jasper eventually—for now, Jasper was still out there and Evelyn feared he’d just killed another one of her friends. After that guy who’d been speaking in such a fake, creepy voice hung up on her, she’d called Charlotte five or six times. No one had picked up. Evelyn had then contacted Boston PD and asked them to go to Charlotte’s house.
Makita greeted her enthusiastically as soon as she walked through the door, and she bent to hug him. A mere pat or a scratch wasn’t enough. She needed his unconditional love. Sigmund came the moment he heard her, too, and when she was finished rubbing her face in Makita’s soft fur she picked up her cat and carried him into the kitchen, where she tried, once again, to reach Charlotte.
She heard her friend’s voice telling her to leave a message and wished she had Charlotte’s home number or her husband’s number. But she didn’t. She’d only ever talked to Charlotte on Charlotte’s cell phone. For now, her only other option for information was the police, whom she was hesitant to call again. They had to have the chance to do their jobs.
She changed into a pair of leggings and a big sweatshirt of Amarok’s, simply because wearing something of his made her feel better—like Makita’s hug and her cat purring in her arms. But the minutes continued to tick away and she didn’t hear anything from Charlotte or the police.
Finally, she gave in and called Boston PD. The gruff cop who answered told her someone would get back to her, and that was it. She was left waiting and wondering and pacing a hole in the carpet.
After an hour or so, Amarok came home. “What are you doing here?” he asked as he walked through the door. He was obviously put out that she hadn’t joined him at the Moosehead since she went past the bar on the drive from HH, but his glower disappeared the moment he saw the look on her face. “What is it?”
“I think something’s happened to Charlotte,” she replied.
“Your friend from high school.”
She nodded.
He bent to scratch his dog behind the ears. Makita, so excited by the homecoming of his master, was prancing around and whining for attention. “What makes you say that?” Using a more measured tone, one devoid of the pique that had been there a moment before, Amarok gazed up at her.
“Someone else answered her phone.” She blinked rapidly, trying to stem the emotion, and the memories, that threatened to overwhelm her. “And I think it was Jasper.”
Forgetting about poor, eager Makita, Amarok slowly stood. “Did you recognize his voice?”
“Yes. No.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. He was doing this thing so that I couldn’t tell what he sounds like. ‘Hello?’” she croaked in the same scary way.
“Maybe it was her husband—some kind of joke,” Amarok said. But he was merely probing for other possibilities, wasn’t serious. What kind of husband would carry out a joke like that when a murderer was on the loose, one who might have reason to target his wife?
“Except she hasn’t called me back. And I’ve tried her about a million times since. All I get is her voice mail.”
“Have you spoken to her husband?”
As she explained
the situation, Amarok came over, caught her hand and tugged her to the couch. “Let’s take a second and think this through, okay?”
With a nod, she sat down and tried to focus on the warmth of his hand to help calm her.
“Jasper killed his parents last Wednesday—in San Diego,” he said. “We know that.”
“We’re assuming it was him, yes,” she said.
“Considering the situation, and the way it all played out, it almost has to be him.”
She couldn’t argue. “Probably.”
“Charlotte lives in Boston.”
“So?”
“That’s clear across the country.”
“Doesn’t mean anything,” she insisted. “He killed the Moores on Wednesday. That’s when the fire was started to hide the crime. Boston’s only a five-hour flight from California. He could’ve gone to Boston on Thursday or Friday. Or maybe he doesn’t live in Arizona like we thought. Maybe he lives in Boston and just went home.” Tears filled her eyes despite her attempt to hold them back. Was Charlotte being brutally tortured, as Evelyn had been tortured in high school? Or was this a quick kill, more like what he’d done to his parents? “I wish I knew if she was okay.”
“How do we find out?” Amarok asked.
“That’s the problem. I called the police to report what happened. But we have no way of knowing what’s going on until we hear back from them or someone else.”
“The police will update you as soon as they can.”
She dashed a hand across her cheeks. “Do you know how many friends I’ve lost, Amarok?”
“Too many.” He pulled her against him before she could communicate where her mind was drifting next: What would she do if she ever lost him because of Jasper?
Envious that she was getting all of Amarok’s attention, Makita, who’d followed them to the couch, rested his muzzle in Amarok’s lap and stared up at him with those cerulean blue eyes.
Evelyn could feel the muscles in Amarok’s chest flex as he stroked his dog while comforting her at the same time. “Remember when it was difficult for me to let you hold me?” she asked once she’d managed to stifle her tears.
“How could I ever forget? You said you couldn’t stand to be ‘held down,’” he said with a chuckle.
She smiled, too. “I like it now. Now it makes me feel better instead of worse.”
He kissed her on the head. “See? We’ve made a lot of progress. And we’re not going to let Jasper screw that up.”
“Was Samantha at the Moosehead?” His ex-girlfriend wasn’t a subject Evelyn looked forward to discussing, but Samantha was about the only thing that had the power to distract her from the horrible images that came to mind as she worried about Charlotte.
“Yeah.”
Of course. She’s probably been dying to see him. “Did she speak to you?”
“For a few minutes.”
“What’d she say?”
“Nothing much.”
“Is she glad to be back?”
“Seemed like it.”
“Did she ask to get together?”
“Said we should do lunch.”
And his ex’s efforts to reel him back in had officially begun.… “Did you set a date?”
“Not yet. I told her I’d see when you’re available.”
She lifted her head. “No, you didn’t.…”
“Why wouldn’t I? She claims she’d like to meet you.”
What Samantha had said to Stacy didn’t sound nearly so friendly, but Evelyn didn’t repeat that. “Wouldn’t having lunch with both of us be a bit awkward?”
“Not for me,” he said. “But if you’d rather not, we don’t have to go.” He touched the tip of her nose. “Anyway, why are we even talking about Samantha?”
“Because as unappealing as that topic is to me, it’s not murder.”
The phone rang. Feeling as if she might finally get some information, Evelyn leapt off the couch and ran to the counter. But when she saw caller ID, she hesitated.
“Who is it?” Amarok asked.
“My mother.”
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
Had Lara just seen a piece on the news related to Charlotte? Or had she received a call from someone who’d heard something through the grapevine? Lara and Grant still lived in the neighborhood where Evelyn had grown up, still socialized with all the same people. It wasn’t inconceivable that they’d learn Charlotte’s fate before she did.
Amarok came toward her. “Do you want me to get it?” he asked, but she shook her head and picked up the handset.
“Hello?”
“Evelyn?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Mom.”
She’d known that. But she was so afraid of what her mother might say she hadn’t shown the usual recognition. “Sorry, Mom. I was … I was preoccupied with something else and … Anyway, how are you?”
“Not good.”
Evelyn gripped the phone that much tighter. “Why not? Is Charlotte okay?”
“Charlotte? Charlotte who?”
So her mother hadn’t been calling for the reason Evelyn had assumed. Still, something was wrong. Evelyn could hear it in her voice. “Never mind. What’s the matter?”
“That other psychiatrist—who helped you launch Hanover House?”
“Fitzpatrick?”
“Yeah. The one you didn’t really like there at the end?”
Evelyn had good reason for not liking Fitzpatrick, but she hadn’t shared that reason with her folks. She’d merely said he was difficult to work with and she was glad when he quit. Her folks worried enough about her being so far away, living in such a harsh climate and working with hundreds of dangerous men. She didn’t need to share every other little problem she had. “What about him?”
“He called tonight.”
Feeling for a bar stool, Evelyn slipped onto the first one her hand encountered. “Why would he call you?”
“Said he was worried about us. Said Jasper was back in Boston and we should leave the area as soon as possible.”
“He stated it that unequivocally?”
“He was adamant.”
Fitzpatrick knew something had happened tonight. He had to know, given the timing of his call to her parents and the panic behind it. How had he learned so quickly? The police hadn’t even called her back, and she felt she’d be higher on their list than he would.
“Could he be right?” Lara asked.
The last thing Evelyn wanted to do was upset her folks. They’d been through so much. Lara was already on antidepressants to help her cope with it all. Evelyn wasn’t convinced her mother could tolerate any more violence. But hearing that scratchy voice on the phone tonight when she’d called Charlotte—the way that man had said her name, almost like a caress—worried Evelyn. “I’m afraid so,” she replied.
“Then it was him that killed Mandy.”
“Probably. And I should tell you that someone murdered his parents a week ago, too.”
“Someone?”
“The police aren’t certain it was him, which is why I haven’t said anything to you.”
Evelyn expected more railing and recriminations, maybe even tears, but after a protracted silence some steel entered her mother’s voice. “It’s about damn time.”
“What did you say?” Evelyn cried.
“I don’t care if it sounds harsh. They deserved what they got. It’s their fault we’ve continued to suffer as we have all these years. Finally, they received a taste of what their son has put us through.”
“I understand how you feel, Mom, but now they won’t be around to help us, even if they could. And Amarok thought he was finally getting through to them, which is why we think Jasper killed them. He seems to be on a rampage. There was Mandy, then the Moores, and tonight I learned that he may have killed another of my high school friends.”
“Charlotte,” her mother said, cluing in immediately. “That’s why you asked about her.”
“Yes.”
“When did this happen?”
“Earlier this evening.”
“Oh God.…”
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Will this never end?” she wailed.
Evelyn couldn’t help feeling partly responsible for the fact that the battle between her and Jasper continued to wage. Sure, it was Stan and Maureen who’d shielded him from the consequences of his actions twenty-one years ago. But her parents had pleaded with her, many times, to go into a different field, to live a life that wasn’t so public. She would almost certainly make more money in private practice than working for the federal government, she wouldn’t be interviewed on television for her “groundbreaking” work and she would be in far less danger. Only she couldn’t do it. She’d felt it was her duty to fight back, was so compelled she couldn’t do anything else. And, thanks to government funding, she finally had the tools. Knowing that support could ebb and flow made her feel as if she had to take advantage of this opportunity while she could. “I hope it will.”
“Same old story.”
“I wish things were different.”
“Where will we go?” her mother asked. “My friends and most of my family are here in Boston. I don’t want to leave.”
“You’ve talked about touring Europe. Maybe it’s time you did that.”
“Your father doesn’t like to travel. That’s why we’ve never been.”
They’d never been because they didn’t want to spend the money. They were too conservative to drop a fortune on something they considered extravagant. But they had the funds. And what better way to spend those funds than keeping themselves safe? “Surely he’ll see the wisdom in this.”
“What about your sister? We can’t leave her here.”
“No, of course not. She has to go with you.”
“She has work! I doubt she’ll be able to pick up and go on a moment’s notice. Not for any length of time. And a week or two won’t make much difference. Jasper will just be waiting for us when we get back. We’ve been hoping for years that he’d be caught and it hasn’t happened yet.”
