Face Off (Dr. Evelyn Talbot Novels)

by Brenda Novak

  Penny winced as she pulled an envelope from behind her back. “You’ve received another letter from Dr. Fitzpatrick.”

  Evelyn cocked an eyebrow at her assistant. “You mean Inmate Fitzpatrick?”

  “Yeah. Should I just … throw it out? I can’t believe I ever pushed you to take his calls, can’t believe I ever felt sorry for him. You’ve told me that psychopaths are charming, that I shouldn’t fall for their act. But I didn’t want to believe he was a psychopath. He was supposed to be one of the good guys.”

  Evelyn had wanted Tim Fitzpatrick out of her life almost since the day Hilltop had opened. Older by nearly two decades, he’d had quite an illustrious career by the time they joined forces, and since she was a relative newcomer, she’d needed the credibility his support provided. But after they came to live in Alaska, she’d begun to realize that he wanted much more than a professional relationship. And once she’d made it clear that she had no interest, he’d changed to the point that she almost couldn’t tolerate him.

  Still, she was having trouble believing the man she’d worked with was guilty of killing Mandy Walker and Charlotte Zimmerman Pine, two women she’d been friends with in high school. She didn’t like him and had a hard time forgiving him for what he’d done before quitting and returning to the Lower 48 a year and a half ago. But would he really murder two people in order to convince her Jasper was once again murdering friends she’d had more than twenty years ago?

  She couldn’t say for sure. Now that she and Amarok had Jasper’s DNA, she planned to have it compared to the DNA found at the crime scene where Charlotte was killed. A match would rule Fitzpatrick out. So instead of telling Penny to throw away his letter, she took it, figuring she might as well let him know that much. “No, I’ll have a look. Thank you.”

  After shoving the letter in her desk to read later, she skirted around her assistant and headed over to the double glass doors that separated their offices from the rest of the prison.

  The phone rang as she was leaving, and Penny stopped her just before she could walk out. “Dr. Talbot?”

  She turned. “Yes?”

  “Janice is on line one.”

  Janice Holt, her boss at the Bureau of Prisons. Evelyn hesitated. She didn’t want to be any later for her appointment with Bobby Knox, but she’d been waiting for this call and Bobby wasn’t going anywhere. “Let the COs who are with Mr. Knox know I’m running a few minutes late and will be down as soon as I can,” she told Penny.

  “Will do.”

  Evelyn returned to her office and closed the door behind her before picking up the phone. “Dr. Talbot.”

  “Evelyn, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you.”

  “No problem.” She didn’t sit down. She didn’t plan to let this conversation take that long. Instead, she walked over to look out the window. Everything was covered with a thick blanket of snow, but the storm had, for the most part, cleared. Although it was still dark out, it was now just dark and wintry. “I hope you have good news.”

  “Actually, I do. You’ll be getting your first female inmate on Monday.”

  The department had been planning to fill the new section with more men, but Evelyn had pushed to use the expansion for another purpose—to bring a few female psychopaths to Hanover House instead.

  Fortunately, Janice had liked the idea from the beginning. She saw it the way Evelyn did—why shouldn’t they study both sexes? Especially because, with the addition of the new section, it was now possible. “Wow. You did it! I can’t believe it.”

  “You doubted me?” Janice teased.

  “I shouldn’t have. You’re a force of nature.”

  “We faced our usual opponents—all the people who’re afraid of change and want everything to be done the same old way. But I pointed out that what you’re doing is making a difference. Beth Bishop is a prime example. If not for you, she’d still be living with her brother and Lyman would probably still be kidnapping women and performing icepick lobotomies on them. You’re doing good work. I believe in you.”

  Evelyn gripped the handset a little tighter. Janice didn’t know about the girl who’d gone missing from the cabin last night. She didn’t know that just hearing about someone who couldn’t be found, who could be lost or hurt in this lonely place, made Evelyn fear the worst. She couldn’t help wondering if someone from Hanover House could be responsible for whatever had happened. She’d checked to make sure all inmates were present and accounted for when she’d arrived at the prison this morning, but that didn’t mean this incident wasn’t connected in some peripheral way. “Thank you,” she said, and hoped to God Janice’s faith hadn’t been misplaced.

  After that compliment, Evelyn knew she couldn’t get counseling. Any hint of instability would hamstring her boss when it came to lobbying for anything else she requested or needed up here.

  She had to soldier on and pray the missing woman would soon be found safe, that whatever happened had nothing to do with the institution and that the psychological scars she bore wouldn’t cause her to unravel and ruin everything she’d set in motion.

  * * *

  Most days Jasper craved a glimpse of Evelyn like an alcoholic craved booze. He thought of her constantly, peered around every corner, loitered near the mental health department if he could come up with an excuse to be there. So it was ironic that today, the one day he didn’t want to bump into her and had stayed away from that side of the prison entirely, she happened to get on the same elevator.

  She wasn’t wearing a lab coat, like so many of the other doctors did, or a name tag. But everyone, both inside and outside the institution, knew who she was. He’d made her famous, made her Important with a capital I. The whole world was watching to see what the “brilliant and beautiful psychiatrist” would accomplish in her “fight against the conscienceless,” but she’d accomplished all she was going to. He’d make sure of that—once he got out of the mess he’d created in the past week. He couldn’t wait until she realized that she hadn’t been able to escape him, after all.

  She wore her silky dark hair in a ponytail and had a folder under her arm. The crease of concentration on her forehead suggested she was deep in thought. He could tell she wasn’t paying any attention to her surroundings. Since she was all business today, he doubted she’d acknowledge him, and that bothered him. He hated the way she could so easily overlook him. He’d once been one of the most important people in her life.

  And he would be again.

  After the elevator doors glided shut, she looked over and did a double take. “Andy, I’m sorry. I was so preoccupied I didn’t even recognize you.”

  She still didn’t recognize him. Not really. But the cosmetic surgeon who’d reconstructed his face had been one of the best in the world. His own parents, who’d had the money to pay handsomely for the tremendous amount of work he’d had done, hadn’t recognized him when he first returned to the States, and that was years ago, before he’d aged by two decades.

  Besides, no one would ever dream he’d be bold enough to pursue employment at Hanover House. Certainly not Evelyn. Amarok, either. The uniform Jasper wore gave him instant credibility. And the fact that he’d been the man to step in and save Evelyn from Lyman Bishop last winter?

  He was golden.

  He managed not to smile at the fact that she was alone in an elevator with the man who’d once cut her throat and she didn’t even know it. She had to want closure, had to want him caught more than anything else in the world. He knew she did. And yet … here he was.

  So much for her ability to spot danger.

  “No problem.” He kept his hands locked behind his back and his eyes focused toward the front, as most people did in an elevator, but it wasn’t easy to appear so unaffected. Just the sight of Evelyn, the way she dressed and the woman she’d become______so elegant and refined and intelligent______aroused him. Neither of his ex-wives could compare. None of his other victims could, either.

  But he had to be careful not
to let her sense his interest.

  He was doing such a good job of maintaining a businesslike air, he expected that to be the end of the exchange, but she surprised him.

  “How are you?”

  “Fine,” he muttered. Although he’d certainly been better. He’d had to stash the two bodies that were in his truck in a vacant field not far from the prison. The road to Anchorage hadn’t opened in time for him to make it home and back; as far as he knew the road still wasn’t open. He’d considered calling in sick so he could properly dispose of his cargo, but he’d worried that would actually be a greater risk. He didn’t want to be even slightly conspicuous, so he’d forced himself to come in, and he was glad he did. Tex, the CO who’d seen him rip up that inmate’s picture yesterday, had already ratted on him. He’d just had his ass chewed out by the warden. Missing work would only have given his superiors another reason to be upset with him.

  The thought of Tex helped Jasper control his reaction to Evelyn. Tex was someone else he needed to get even with—and he would.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” she said.

  He let himself glance over at her. He loved her eyes. They were the prettiest shade of hazel he’d ever seen. None of the other women he’d murdered in her place could match her beauty or her poise. None of them had her intelligence or strength of spirit, either. They’d been a diversion, nothing more. Soon he wouldn’t have to worry about coming up with a good substitute.

  “So you’re adjusting to Alaska?” she asked. “You like it up here?”

  The elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open. “I do. I love it here, don’t you?”

  “I like a lot of things about it,” she said as they walked off. “Where did you live before you came here?”

  Although he could still hear her Boston accent, he’d worked hard to eradicate his. The length of time he’d been gone helped. “I was born in Florida.” That wasn’t what she’d meant, but Amarok had figured out that he was responsible for the five women murdered in Peoria, and although hearing that a relatively new CO named Andy Smith was from the Phoenix area wouldn’t necessarily set off any alarm bells, Jasper preferred not to draw the connection in the first place. His work experience was on his application. She’d see it if she ever looked over his employee file. But he assumed she’d have to go through the warden to gain access and was hoping she wouldn’t be curious enough to go that far.

  “I’ve never spent much time there,” she said. “Is that where you worked before?”

  He couldn’t lie outright. If the truth ever came to her attention, that would be an even bigger red flag than telling her he’d just moved from Arizona. He had to answer. But as soon as he opened his mouth, a CO named Chad Peirano hurried up to them.

  “Dr. Talbot. There you are! I was just coming to find you. Bobby Knox is pitching a fit that you’re not there. He says if you have no respect for his time, he doesn’t want to talk to you. Should we take him back to his cell?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m almost there now. I’ll meet with him, see if I can’t make the session useful in spite of his irritation.”

  Jasper was already moving away from her when she glanced back at him. “I won’t hold you up any longer,” he said, and waved as she started following Chad in the opposite direction.

  * * *

  Sierra Yerbowitz had an abusive fiancé. While Amarok wasn’t exactly excited by the news, he was somewhat relieved. Maybe her disappearance wouldn’t be so difficult to solve, after all. And maybe whatever had gone wrong at the cabin had nothing to do with Hanover House—or Hilltop, either. After the past couple of years, Amarok felt he deserved a break. Evelyn even more so. Ready answers, answers that gave her no reason to fear, would help. He hoped that if he could keep her world stable, and she didn’t always have to deal with so much drama, she’d agree to marry him.

  He was sure Leland would appreciate knowing what had happened, too, even if it wasn’t the outcome anyone hoped for. And achieving a quick resolution was sounding more and more promising. Amarok had one of Sierra’s coworkers on the phone—Loni Loose (an unfortunate last name for a woman, in his estimation)—who’d immediately pointed a finger at Sierra’s fiancé, the long-distance trucker Leland had told him about. Loni said if anything had happened to Sierra, Allen Call was most likely to blame.

  “Leland seems to think Call’s a pretty stand-up guy.” Amarok held the phone to his ear as he rocked back in his chair at the trooper post, relaxing for the first time since Leland and his buddies had hit town last night. He hadn’t questioned Leland extensively about Sierra’s relationship with her fiancé, but only because Leland had acted as though Allen would be devastated if anything had happened to her, just like the rest of her family and friends.

  Loni seemed to have a different take on the relationship. “Of course he does. She can’t tell Leland about all the shit Allen puts her through. Leland would try to stop her from marrying him if she did. Her whole family would step in.”

  “But she talked to you about Call’s behavior.”

  “She talked to all of us here at the salon.”

  Amarok propped his feet up on his desk. “How bad did it get?”

  “He’s knocked her around a bit. I know that. One time I had to completely redo her nails because she’d broken three trying to shut him out of her bedroom.”

  “Did she ever show up at the salon with any nasty cuts, bruises, that sort of thing?”

  “Nothing too bad. But he definitely had a temper.”

  He was hoping for more proof.… “Did she ever have to call the police? File charges against him?”

  “I don’t think so. But when they got into an argument a few weeks ago, he stopped the car at the side of the road and literally pushed her out onto the pavement. She scraped both her knees. We tried to convince her to break up with him, get him out of her life. She said she wasn’t hurt that badly, that he’d apologized and would never do it again.”

  Amarok lowered his feet and sat up. Scraped knees were a far cry from murder, but maybe he had to dig a little deeper. “I don’t mean to make light of those injuries, but do you know if he ever did anything worse?”

  “I have no idea what she might’ve hidden from us. She was always complaining about his temper. She’d get so nervous if she thought he might be upset with her about something. We all hate him.”

  “I’m not saying this is the case, because I don’t know yet, but if this comes down to the worst, would you say he’s capable of murder, Ms. Loose? Could you see him traveling all the way to Alaska to kill her?”

  After a slight hesitation, she said, “I hope not. We all love Sierra and we’re praying she comes back safe. But he might know something. He didn’t want her to take the trip, never wants her to go anywhere without him.”

  “Maybe she was fed up and trying to break things off.” Amarok thought that would make it even more believable, but Loni quickly disabused him of that notion.

  “No, she would’ve told us. She was still planning the wedding.”

  Amarok refused to let his surge of optimism fade. “Was there anyone else in her life who might have reason to harm her?”

  “Her ex-boyfriend still calls her. He’s been trying to get her back. Maybe”—her voice broke—“maybe he decided he’d rather see her dead than married to another man.”

  Picking up the pen he’d used to jot down the number of the salon, Amarok rolled closer to his desk and waited, giving Loni a chance to bring her emotions under control. “How do you know he was trying to get her back?”

  “She showed us his texts,” Loni said with a sniff. “One said he’d love her till the day he died. We all thought it was pretty romantic, but … maybe it was obsessive and not romantic at all.”

  Amarok knew a little something about exes who were hard to get rid of. He seemed to run into Samantha Boyce, his ex-girlfriend, who’d moved back to town last winter, everywhere. To a point, that was to be expected. They lived in such a small town. But she’d al
so swing by the trooper post to bring him his favorite milk shake, to say “hi” or to relate some news about a member of her family he knew—her mother wasn’t doing well but had asked about him; her brother was considering getting into law enforcement in Anchorage. She even approached him to dance with her whenever she could corner him at the Moosehead. “Do you know his name?” he asked Loni.

  “Ward Something.” She covered the phone, but he could hear her speaking to someone else. “Hey, do you know the name of Sierra’s ex? The guy who texted her a few weeks ago about getting back with her?”

  She sniffed again before coming back on the line. “Brothers,” she said. “Ward Brothers.”

  “How did Sierra meet Ward?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “How long was she with him?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, either. I wish I could. I do know he’s a telemarketer and he lives an hour away from Sierra’s apartment. She told me she met up with him a week or so before she left and mentioned the trip to him.”

  “How long have they been broken up?”

  “Three years. I know because that was when I started working here and Sierra had already met Allen by then.”

  “That gives me something to go on,” Amarok said. “Thank you for your time.”

  “I don’t mind helping. You’re going to find her, right?” She sounded worried, and he felt she had good reason to be. If he found anything at all, he was fairly certain it would be a body. Even that wasn’t likely, given the abundance of wildlife in Alaska that could scatter the bones. But at least neither person of interest was from Hilltop or Hanover House. This time HH seemed to be in the clear.

  “Yes. I’m going to find her,” he replied, and prayed to God he could deliver on that promise.

  7

  When Evelyn met with the more dangerous inmates—those who’d committed violent crimes—she used a room where she was separated from her subject by plexiglass. It was a federal mandate that she take this precaution with any inmate who had a particular coding on his file. Although this policy had its critics, because some psychologists argued that no subject could be relied upon to speak freely under such “hostile” and “unnatural” conditions, she’d rather leave the men uncomfortable than risk her life. She never knew when one might try to throw feces at her, urinate on her or use a homemade blow dart to give her AIDS or hepatitis. Others couldn’t be trusted not to attack her outright. It wasn’t wise to take chances with certain inmates, even in the name of science.