by Brenda Novak
“In other words, both sides are well motivated to expedite his release.”
“Yes.”
“That means you won’t be able to hold him much longer.”
“Exactly my point. And Beth can’t be there when he gets out, Amarok.”
“Jumping through all the hoops necessary to remove him as her guardian could take time, Evelyn. Investigations don’t happen overnight. You might as well accept that, or you’re going to have a miserable few weeks.”
“I can’t shrug my shoulders and say oh well. He’s sexually abusing her. I want that social worker to get her ass out there.”
Amarok was glad she was so fired up about Bishop. She might not even notice Samantha. But Samantha wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to introduce herself. Although she took her time, talking to this or that person along the way, she moved constantly closer—until she tapped Evelyn’s shoulder.
Evelyn had just received her drink. She thanked Shorty before turning. Then, to her credit, she managed to keep her smile in place. Amarok could see the subtle tightening around her mouth and eyes, however. She knew who Samantha was, even though, to his knowledge, they’d never met in person.
“You must be Evelyn,” Samantha said.
“Yes. And you must be Samantha.” Evelyn offered her hand. “Amarok told me you were moving back. Welcome home.”
“Thank you,” Samantha said as they shook. “I hear you’re doing some interesting work here in Hilltop.”
“Can I get you something to drink, Sam?” Shorty interrupted, but Samantha waved him off.
“If you find human behavior interesting,” Evelyn said. “Either way, someone’s got to do the research. As I’ve told Amarok many times, psychopathy is a growing problem.”
“But not one we had to deal with,” Samantha said. “Now there’s no telling what might happen, right? I mean, look at last year. I hear Hanover House had prostitution, guard corruption and problems with the medical health staff. Not to mention the first murder—which turned into two murders—that we’ve had in Hilltop in over a decade. You certainly bring a lot of excitement to town.”
Evelyn studied her before responding. “I understand that you’re not happy with what I’m doing,” she said. “Is there anything else you’d like to say to me?”
Samantha glanced at Amarok as if she feared he’d pile on. He was tempted. But Evelyn was handling the situation very nicely. She didn’t need his help. “I do have concerns,” Samantha responded, now a little defensive. “A lot of people here do. And I believe they’re legitimate.”
“As legitimate as they may be, I can assure you your opinion would change if you were ever to come face-to-face with a man like Jasper Moore. As indifferent as you may be about my past, I’m fighting to make sure you never have the same experience. Ignoring a problem won’t fix it.”
“You don’t want to challenge the doc, Sam.” Apparently, Phil Robbins had overheard part of the conversation while he was walking up. “She’s the smartest person in town.”
Obviously a little tipsy, he laughed, giving Amarok the chance to try to ease the tension with a smile that suggested they leave it right there. But Samantha didn’t smile back. She didn’t like that someone from Hilltop had taken Evelyn’s side—or that Evelyn had put her in her place even before Phil showed his support. “I just had a few questions,” she mumbled, and moved away without looking at Amarok again.
“Your ex-girlfriend doesn’t approve of me,” Evelyn said.
“Aw, don’t mind Sam.” Phil’s voice, amplified by the alcohol he’d consumed, boomed overloud. “She’s sore that you got her man. That’s all.”
Amarok motioned to Evelyn’s wine. “As soon as you’re done with that, we’ll head home.”
“I guess it’s situations like these that make small towns a bit too … confining.”
“Yeah.” He leaned forward and pecked her lips. “That’s why I’m glad you don’t have an ex-boyfriend running around this place.”
She afforded him a reluctant grin since he held her chin until she did. Then he helped her drink her wine so that they could get out of there even sooner.
* * *
“Do you think it could be Fitzpatrick?”
Amarok had been watching television while Evelyn spoke on the phone to her mother and then Boston PD. When she asked this question, he realized she was off and glanced up at her. “What could be Fitzpatrick?”
“My mother told me she saw his picture on the news as a possible suspect for Mandy’s and Charlotte’s deaths. So I called Boston PD and spoke to Detective Dressler, the guy who’s investigating my case, to see why.”
Grabbing the remote, Amarok paused the television. “Whoa. Wait a second. Are we talking about Dr. Fitzpatrick? The same dude who quit before he could be fired from HH last year?”
“The one and only.”
“They think it might be him and not Jasper?”
“Apparently.”
Amarok rubbed his chin as he thought it over. “What evidence do they have?”
She’d heard about the minivan, but she’d been surprised there was more. “Besides the fact that he was driving a blue minivan that was seen in Charlotte’s neighborhood quite a few times over the past several days?”
“What was he doing in Charlotte’s neighborhood? Does he live nearby?”
“No. That’s the problem. He had no reason for being there.” She would’ve already shared that tidbit, except they’d driven separately on the way home from the Moosehead and her mother had called the second she walked through the door. “And it gets worse. He was placing calls to Charlotte—then hanging up on her.”
“Why would he do that?”
“To make her think it was Jasper. To cause some panic.”
“So that she’d call you. Then you’d know he was right—that she was in danger—be impressed that he figured it out in advance and loop him in on the case. He’d finally have the chance to prove how valuable he could be, once again, in the realm of criminal profiling, and you’d break down and allow him to return to Hanover House, or recommend him for some other position.”
Evelyn frowned at his summation. “That could be the case.”
“You heard the killer’s voice. Could the man you spoke to be Fitzpatrick?”
“Detective Dressler just asked me the same thing. But…” She shook her head. “How would I know? The way he camouflaged his voice—that could’ve been you and I wouldn’t have known it.”
“The mere fact that he camouflaged his voice suggests you might’ve recognized it if he hadn’t.”
“That could be true for Fitzpatrick or Jasper,” she pointed out. “I can’t believe Tim would murder two people under any circumstances.”
“It’s possible. He’s obsessed with you, won’t move on.”
“It’s not only me. He wants to feel valued again, wants his old job back—”
“Or at least to rebuild his credibility in the industry.”
“Desperate people sometimes do desperate things. That’s a cliché for a reason. But … even then,” she said. “I’ve felt so bad for ever suspecting him of killing Lorraine and Danielle. I’d hate to make the same mistake twice.”
“Does he have an alibi for the nights Mandy and Charlotte were murdered?”
“He told the police he was home alone.”
“On both nights?”
“He’s single, in his mid-fifties, and he’s no longer working. Both murders happened on weeknights—a Thursday and a Monday. It’s not inconceivable that he would be home. He’s not exactly a social butterfly—never has been.”
“Just because he turned out to be innocent of murder last year doesn’t mean he’s innocent now, Evelyn. He wasn’t down-and-out back then. He was on top, felt as if he was about to take control of Hanover House. The embarrassment and humiliation he’s experienced since could’ve pushed him over the edge. He hasn’t forgotten about you and gone on his way.”
“No, he’s capitalized on
Mandy’s murder by getting in touch with me as soon as possible. But maybe he was only taking advantage of the opportunity that presented itself.”
“Question is … was it an opportunity he purposely created?”
Fitzpatrick had access to her high school yearbook, could’ve chosen Mandy and Charlotte from that picture as easily as Jasper.… “The methodology of these kills is different,” she admitted.
“I was thinking that, too. They seem to be more of a means to an end.”
“Yes. But if Jasper was killing my friends to scare me or upset me, he could have made it that simple. Go in, kill, get out.”
Leaning back, Amarok crossed his ankles. “Four murders in such a short time, though, two on the West Coast and two on the East Coast, is a bit much for anyone to manage inside of two weeks, even a psychopath of Jasper’s caliber.”
He’d pointed that out once before.… “Perhaps, but it’s possible. It’s not as if Mandy or Charlotte were killed on the same night as the Moores.”
“Still, it’s not likely. I’m pretty sure Jasper lives in Arizona.”
“So you’re thinking it might be Fitzpatrick.”
“It could be.”
He was the one who’d raised the alarm with her parents, who then called her in a panic.…
“Are they going to arrest him?” Amarok asked.
“Not until they find some forensic evidence that ties him to one or both crimes. The fact that he was in Charlotte’s neighborhood, that he had access and motivation, isn’t proof. The DA wouldn’t prosecute a case like that.”
The phone rang.
“I’ll get it,” she said.
He grinned because he hadn’t even moved to get up. “You might as well. These days you get more calls than I do.”
“Now that I’ve warned off all the women who were chasing you before,” she teased, and walked over to the kitchen counter. “It’s Fitzpatrick,” she said, startled to see his name on caller ID. How’d he get Amarok’s home number? “Should I answer it?”
“I hate to keep giving him the attention he wants—”
“But I’m dying to see what he has to say,” she said, and lifted the receiver.
“Evelyn,” Fitzpatrick said in a big exhale as soon as she’d said hello. “I’m so glad you answered.”
“What’s going on, Tim? How do you even know this number?”
“You called me from it the other night.”
Of course. He’d captured it on his caller ID. She rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”
“What do you mean, what do I want? I told you that Charlotte was in trouble. Now she’s dead. Surely you’ve heard the news.”
“Of course I’ve heard the news. I’m heartbroken that someone else has been killed.”
“I tried to make sure that didn’t happen.”
He sounded sincerely distressed. But what about the fact that he’d been implicated in the crime? “My mother says that the police think you may have had something to do with it, Tim.”
Leaving the television on pause, Amarok walked over to listen to their conversation.
“No. Not really,” Fitzpatrick said. “I mean, there’s no way that’ll ever come to anything. Because I didn’t harm her. The police just wanted to ask me why I was in her neighborhood.”
“Why were you in her neighborhood?”
“You know why! I was trying to protect her, to keep her safe. I told you I was worried.”
“Is that why you kept calling her house and hanging up?”
“Yes!”
When he didn’t even hesitate before answering, Evelyn blinked in surprise. “Yes?”
“I was hoping to spook her, to put her on her guard so that she’d be cautious.”
“You couldn’t have called her and explained who you were and why you were worried?”
At this question there was a slight hesitation. “I should have, but I was afraid if I was wrong and she told anyone that I’d called, claiming Jasper was killing people who were old friends of yours, I’d look like I didn’t know what I was talking about. And my reputation couldn’t withstand that. You rarely hesitate to stick your neck out that way, but your career is flourishing. I’m barely hanging on to mine.”
He’d pretty much lost it, wasn’t hanging on at all. That was what had possibly given him the motivation to make it appear as if Jasper were back in Boston, killing the girls she’d hung out with in high school. But Evelyn didn’t point that out. “You didn’t consider how that might play out if she was killed?”
“Of course not! I wasn’t planning on letting her be killed. I even followed her that night, drove over to that house where she went to babysit to make sure she got there safe.”
“At which point you … what?”
“I drove around the block a few times to make sure everything looked okay, and left. I figured she’d be good for the night, never dreamed what happened could happen. I still have no idea how Jasper found her, since I didn’t see anyone else following her.”
No one had reported another car, either. That wasn’t a point in Fitzpatrick’s favor. “So where did you go when you left the place where she was babysitting?”
“Home.”
Which was why he had no alibi.…
“You believe me, don’t you, Evelyn? What reason would I have for hurting anyone?”
Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose. Was he telling the truth? How would she ever know? Either way, she felt it was best to convince him that she was finally back on his side. If he was a murderer, upsetting him would only put more people in danger. “Of course I believe you.”
“I’m so glad. I was afraid … Well, with everything that happened last year, I thought maybe you’d think the worst.”
She straightened as a horrifying thought came into her mind. He’d accurately predicted Charlotte’s death. Sure, maybe that yearbook picture was all there was to it. But it would be pretty easy to predict the next victim if he was the one perpetrating the crime. “Who do you think Jasper might go after next, Tim?”
“It could be anyone who was ever close to you,” he replied, obviously pleased that she would ask his opinion. “That’s why I called your family. That’s why I’m calling you now. You need to get them out of Boston.”
“I will,” she said. “I’ll get them out right away.”
“Particularly your sister.”
“Because…”
“Of her age. Jasper likes young, attractive women. When the police came by, I offered to help them put together a profile of what Jasper would be like now, where he might be living, who he might attack. But they weren’t interested. It’s so frustrating. Here I am, trying to help, and no one will listen. Maybe you and I can go over it and you can give them the information.”
“Sure. That sounds fine to me,” she said. “But I’m going on very little sleep. Let me call you in the morning, from the office.”
“No problem,” he responded, clearly excited. “Get some sleep. And I’ll put together my notes.”
“Thanks,” she said, and hung up.
Amarok leaned around to look into her face. “So? What do you think?”
“I’m scared,” she replied.
“Of Jasper or Fitzpatrick?”
“Both. But at least I know Jasper’s my enemy.”
23
The next two weeks were the longest of Jasper’s life. He’d never been so eager to get through fourteen days. It felt as if he’d been waiting his whole life for this big move to Alaska.
Hillary didn’t get the nerve to call him for nearly a week, but he could understand why. She assumed he’d be angry—she’d seen him angry before, knew how unpleasant it was. So he could imagine her surprise and relief when she finally called. He was cordial, but “cordial” was easy for him since he was happy to let her go.
Nice though he was, she still cried a lot. She also told him that she’d done her best to love him, to be a good wife. He was just too unreachable. Too closed off. Too secretive. H
e let her talk without trying to justify his behavior, even told her she was right, that splitting up was for the best. Why say anything else? His interview with Hanover House had gone so well that they’d extended him the job. Since he was getting exactly what he wanted, he had no hard feelings. In the days after she and the girls had moved out, he’d been too busy to even worry about the “family” he’d once had.
Once Hillary realized that he wasn’t going to put up a fight, they’d made arrangements for her to move, after he was gone, back into the house they’d been renting. Since her name was on the lease, it would be her credit that would get destroyed if they didn’t fulfill the obligation. But she wasn’t unhappy about living in the house. Returning to the neighborhood meant she wouldn’t have to drive so far to get the girls to school.
No doubt her parents were relieved, too. Everyone had been anticipating a big fight.
See? I’m not such a bad guy, he’d told her, and she’d gone to great pains to assure him she’d never thought of him as “bad.” She just couldn’t “fulfill” him.
More than once she’d indicated she wouldn’t be completely opposed to a reconciliation. She was so damn afraid to be on her own. He’d always known that about her. But he didn’t take the opportunity to try to win her back. He encouraged her to stay the course, told her she’d eventually find someone else who was better suited to her. He was being so nice that even her parents seemed to be rethinking their opinion of him and came by to store some of her stuff in the garage until he left.
He found it all quite amusing. He was killing them with kindness.…
Other than what few dealings he had with his soon-to-be ex, he’d worked almost every day at Florence Prison, trying to fulfill his final shifts. He’d also arranged and paid for his airfare to Anchorage and spent quite a bit of time on the Internet, looking for the perfect place to stay once he arrived—a place with a basement he could use until he came up with other accommodations for his victims. He still had the money he’d taken from his parents when he killed them. He’d have his final paycheck, too. Hillary hadn’t asked him for money, and he hadn’t offered her any. Her kids weren’t his kids; he shouldn’t have to take care of them. And her job paid a lot more than his. As far as he was concerned, she should be glad he wasn’t requesting spousal maintenance. Under different circumstances, he would have, but he didn’t see any reason they should stay in touch. He was finished with her, never wanted to see her again.
