Face Off (Dr. Evelyn Talbot Novels)

by Brenda Novak

  Amarok caught his arm before he could so much as take a step. “I’m afraid I have to ask you to stay away from the cabin. Maybe you were too upset to notice, but I put my own locks on it. You can’t get in, and I’ve notified the rental company, who’s contacting the owners. If there’s anything of evidentiary value up there, I don’t want it ruined.”

  “You’re saying it’s a crime scene.…”

  Amarok cringed inside. Damn it. Here he was again. “Yeah. For the next few days at least.”

  “So what are we supposed to do?” He gestured at his friends. “Just sit on our asses and wait for you?”

  “I’m afraid that’s all you can do,” he said.

  8

  “Can you believe it?” After speaking with Tex and confirming that Andy Smith had indeed torn up the picture of Bobby Knox’s grandmother—for no particular reason that Tex could surmise—Evelyn had called Amarok and was lucky enough to catch him at his trooper post.

  “Tex saw the whole thing?” Amarok asked. “Confirmed there was no inciting event?”

  “Yes! Tex told me he was floored. He tried to stop Andy, but it was too late. And then, when Tex got mad about what Andy had done instead of being amused by it, Andy seemed irritated. Said something like, ‘What’s your problem? It’s only a damn picture!’”

  “Surely he had to understand it was more than a ‘damn’ picture to Bobby Knox.”

  “He didn’t seem to care! That’s what bothered Tex. He said he couldn’t believe Andy could be such a jerk.”

  “Are you going to talk to Andy about it?”

  “I can’t decide. Tex turned him in, so Warden Ferris has been dealing with the situation. Maybe I should leave it there.”

  When Amarok didn’t respond right away, she knew something had stolen his attention. “Amarok?”

  “Sorry. Just saw something on my desk.”

  “Something about the investigation?”

  “No, I guess Samantha came by while I was out.”

  “Again?” Samantha had been trying to get back with Amarok ever since she’d returned to town. And someone—Evelyn could only guess it was Samantha—had been leaving hateful notes on her car, telling her she wasn’t wanted, to go home to Boston and never come back, that sort of thing. Evelyn had found two so far, one when she came out of the Moosehead and one when she came out of her and Amarok’s house to go to work one day a couple of weeks ago.

  “Apparently,” Amarok said.

  “What’d she leave you?”

  “A note.”

  “And? What does it say?”

  “Nothing much.”

  “Read it to me.”

  “‘Sad I missed you. Made your favorite brownies. Wink. Will try to drop them off later.’”

  She hadn’t left them because he wasn’t there; she wanted to see him. “What does she think she’s doing?” Evelyn asked. “She knows you’re with me!”

  “I’m not interested in her, so it doesn’t matter, anyway,” he said. “Back to the CO who tore up that picture. If he’s already been written up, that should probably be the end of it—unless he does something else.”

  Evelyn was reluctant to let Amarok change the subject so easily. Samantha’s overtures were really starting to get on her nerves. But it wasn’t as though he encouraged her. When they were all at the Moosehead together, he made it plain that he was with Evelyn. He never even gave Samantha a second look, so Evelyn couldn’t fault him. It was just enraging that Samantha always tried to engage him. “Except Smith wasn’t written up,” she said. She figured they had enough going on without having an argument about Samantha. “I called Warden Ferris after I talked to Tex. He told me he would’ve taken stronger measures, made sure the incident was reported in Andy’s file, but he didn’t want to damage Andy’s career if he’d simply acted in a stupid, thoughtless moment. If he’d let the stress of the job get to him, for instance. No one’s had any other trouble with Andy, so it’s not as if he has a track record of acting inappropriately. And Ferris said Andy felt terrible about the incident, that he apologized profusely, claimed he didn’t know what had gotten into him and promised it would never happen again.”

  There was another slight pause before Amarok responded. “That doesn’t satisfy you?”

  It probably should, but it didn’t, and she couldn’t decide why. “Not entirely.”

  “You think he deserves some sort of punishment? Being reprimanded by the warden isn’t enough?”

  “I guess it would be if … I don’t know, if I could understand his behavior. To me, what Andy did was just plain cruel, and that makes me angry. He should have more compassion!”

  “For a killer, babe? Does Bobby have any compassion for Andy—or anyone else?”

  “Bobby isn’t a killer.”

  “He’s in prison for a reason.”

  “He’s a con man,” she grudgingly admitted.

  “Which means…”

  Feeling defeated, she sank back into her chair. “He swindled a lot of old ladies out of their life savings.”

  “And that isn’t cruel?”

  “It is. Especially when you consider that he was raised by his grandmother. But I expect more from my guards than I do from my inmates!”

  “Then have a talk with Andy. Let him know.”

  She sat forward again. “Won’t that seem petty after what he did for me last year? I would not be sitting here right now if not for him. Instead, I could be in the worst situation imaginable. I owe him a great deal.”

  “And you have to remember that a CO’s job is hard. The inmates are often belligerent, will say or do anything to get under the skin of the people around them, especially those in charge. For all we know, Bobby muttered something that set Andy off, something Tex didn’t hear.”

  “So I should let it go.”

  “Give him the benefit of the doubt this time, but keep an eye on him. If he does anything else that’s less than admirable, you can feel justified in going harder on him in the future.”

  Pursing her lips, she rubbed the scar on her neck.

  “I would’ve lost you, if not for him,” Amarok added. “I can’t forget that.”

  “Neither can I,” she said. “That’s why I feel so ungrateful, so disloyal, telling you I don’t like him.”

  “You don’t like him? You mean generally—outside of your reaction to this one incident?”

  “Yes, generally. All the time. If I see him and can do it without being too obvious, I go the other way.”

  “That’s sort of extreme, isn’t it?”

  “It might be, but he makes my skin crawl. Isn’t that terrible?”

  “I’d say it’s … baffling. You don’t have a reason?”

  “None. Nothing I can explain, anyway.”

  “Why have you never mentioned this to me before?”

  “Because it’s far too negative a reaction to the guy who saved my life! And I haven’t spent a great deal of time thinking about it.”

  “You don’t run into him very often, do you? We see him at the Moosehead occasionally, but other than stopping to say hello, he’s never bothered us.”

  She pressed her thumb and finger to the bridge of her nose. It’d been a rough twenty-four hours. Maybe she was just reacting to the difficulty of her job. “That’s true. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I won’t say anything to Andy about Bobby Knox, since Ferris already has. But Andy had better not pull anything like that again.”

  “There’s no one quite like you,” he said.

  She could hear the smile in his voice. “What do you mean?”

  “No one else is so quick to do battle over any injustice.”

  “You hate that about me. It’s the reason I can’t walk away from Hanover House. I can’t leave the fight to others.”

  “I don’t hate anything about you, and I’m not sure I want you to leave Hanover House.”

  “You’re the one who’s always suggesting I go into private practice!”

  “To keep yo
u safe. But I’m afraid that if you go into private practice, you won’t do it here in Alaska.”

  He was right; she’d always planned to go back to Boston. As much as she loved him, she wasn’t sure she was willing to give up that dream. So she changed the subject. She hated knowing she couldn’t commit to him and that Samantha Boyce was waiting in the wings. “What are you learning about Sierra Yerbowitz?”

  “From what I hear, her fiancé isn’t the nicest guy in the world. I tried to call him and got his voicemail, so I haven’t had a chance to form my own opinion yet. She also has an ex-boyfriend who’s been pushing to get her back. I have a call in to him, too. I hope whoever’s guilty is one of them.”

  “That would make our lives easier. Can you check with the airlines, get the manifests for any flights coming into Anchorage over the past week?”

  “I’m working on that. I’ve already gone by The Shady Lady. Our friend Andy and a couple of other COs stayed over last night because they couldn’t drive home with the road closed. The contractor putting the finishing touches on the new section at Hanover House and several of his men took the rest of the rooms. But there was no one who raised any red flags. There were no strangers.”

  “It’s so puzzling.…”

  “Everything seems normal at Hanover House?”

  Although he asked the question casually, she tensed. “Yes. They count the inmates every morning and every evening, as you know. But I had them count twice today. There’ve been no problems here. This has nothing to do with us, Amarok.”

  “Good. Because if someone else from Hilltop gets hurt, I’m afraid I’ll have to put down a local uprising. Everyone will be calling for the closure of the prison. I doubt the government would listen to a mere five hundred people, but if they get enough press … who knows? In any case, that wouldn’t be good for you or your work.”

  “I agree. The relationship between Hanover House and the community is already strained, and since I’m the figurehead here, that means my relationships are strained, too. Sandy’s mother won’t even speak to me.”

  “Try not to take it personally,” he said. “She doesn’t understand that Bishop’s release was out of your hands, that you were the only one fighting to keep him behind bars.”

  She probably did know that. She just didn’t care. Sandy’s family, and others in the area, blamed Evelyn for Sandy’s death—another reason Evelyn had been struggling. It was almost impossible to ignore that negative energy. The notes Samantha was leaving on her car—if, indeed, it was Samantha—didn’t help. “Too bad I couldn’t stop him from getting out.”

  “That’s water under the bridge. Let’s not dwell on it.”

  “I agree. We have plenty to worry about in the present.”

  “I’ll find out what happened to Sierra Yerbowitz. Don’t worry.”

  “Thanks,” she said, and meant it. The longer Sierra’s disappearance went unsolved, the more difficult Evelyn’s life would become.

  * * *

  Jasper’s heart leapt into his throat. His headlights showed another set of tracks in the snow, very close to where he’d turned into the woods to stash the bodies this morning. What was going on? Why would anyone else have any reason to be out this way? It’d been desolate earlier! But there weren’t many people moving about this morning, even in town. He’d been driving to work at the tail end of that big storm.

  So … had someone been following him?

  He didn’t think so. He would’ve noticed. Although it was daylight at the time, it had still been overcast and gloomy. He would’ve seen headlights.

  More likely someone had spotted his tracks after he’d left the bodies and followed them to see where they led. Perhaps a couple of kids after school, trying to relieve the boredom. But even something that innocuous could destroy him. He hadn’t been able to stash Kat and the other woman very far off the road, couldn’t risk getting stuck while he had two corpses in his possession. If he hadn’t shown up for work and people started looking for him, they’d find his vehicle, even if he tried to leave the area on foot—and they’d discover what he’d done. But he’d been so careful to avoid that possibility he might’ve created a problem that would have essentially the same result.

  “Son of a bitch.” He checked his rearview mirror. No one seemed to be coming from either direction, so he slowed down and made the turn again. He hoped his day wasn’t about to get worse. He was already fuming at the two dead women who were causing him so much trouble. And at Tex, who should’ve kept his mouth shut, not to mention the warden, who’d been such a hard-ass although Jasper hadn’t done anything wrong. There was no law against tearing up a picture! He was also angry with Leland for making a fuss last night and keeping him awake, at Amarok for daring to stand up to him and at Evelyn for tempting him to move to Alaska in the first place. It was her fault he was here. She’d all but dared him to come after her with all those TV appearances. He wasn’t about to let that challenge go unanswered.

  But if someone had found the bodies, she might have the last laugh.…

  Should he leave the corpses where they were? Not take the chance of trying to recover them?

  Amarok could be there, waiting for him. If that was the case, there’d be no way to escape suspicion. Unless he could get out of town right now and disappear, running into the sergeant out here might unravel everything. Then Amarok would look closer—might even try to get a sample of his DNA, which would reveal his true identity.

  He stomped on the brake and stared as far into the distance as his headlights allowed. He saw nothing, only darkness. But that didn’t mean anything. Was he being foolish to try to recover the bodies?

  Perhaps, but he wanted them back. Which meant he was going to take the risk.

  He pulled his handgun from its holster. Fuck Amarok. If the trooper was here, he’d shoot him on sight, claim one last victim, no matter what happened afterwards. At least he’d have the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten Evelyn’s man. From her perspective, losing Amarok was probably worse than dying herself, so there was that.

  He rolled down his window so the glass wouldn’t shatter all over him or provide evidence after the fact, and rolled very slowly forward, his prison-issue GLOCK in his right hand. He’d simply pull up and shoot.

  Boom! Amarok wouldn’t even know what hit him.

  The snow crunched beneath his tires, crusty after the few brief hours of warmer weather. “Come on.” Jasper felt his senses grow more alert, felt the old excitement rise in his blood. He’d wanted to kill Amarok since he’d found out Amarok existed. Was the long wait finally over?

  The tracks went almost to the bodies before suddenly veering off to the left.

  Jasper followed them. He needed to figure out if he still had company. But that seemed less and less likely. Whoever it was had driven past the bodies to a small, treeless depression—probably a frozen pond, although it was hard to tell, since he didn’t know the area—and done a few donuts in the snow.

  Jasper guessed it was kids, all right. A couple of hooligans, as his mother would’ve called them, out raising hell. He’d gotten himself all worked up for nothing.

  He was feeling much better when he returned to the bodies, but his relief didn’t last long. When he got out of the truck, he could see that they weren’t undisturbed, as he’d thought a second earlier. Whoever had come in here had swung too wide on the way out and run over both corpses.

  Jasper had left his headlights on. He could see the tire impression going right over the tarp. That alone probably wouldn’t have been a big deal. The driver didn’t seem to have noticed, or Amarok would be here. But the rear axle of that vehicle must’ve caught Kat’s hair, which was spilling out the end of the tarp, and wound it around before yanking it off—because a huge chunk of her scalp was missing.

  * * *

  Evelyn had stayed late to compensate for the time she’d missed yesterday. She still wasn’t caught up, had myriad tasks waiting for her—files to review and update, paperwork t
hat required her approval, brain scans that needed to be analyzed and a summary report she owed Janice at the BOP, to name a few. But Amarok had called to check on her and said they might be getting more bad weather. He wanted her to head home before the full brunt of the storm could hit.

  She was nearly finished packing up her briefcase when she remembered that letter from Tim Fitzpatrick. She was tempted to leave it in her drawer, to deal with it once Amarok found Sierra Yerbowitz and she wasn’t looking at another catastrophe. But as of this last week they had Jasper’s DNA, and if Fitzpatrick was innocent he might be relieved to know they could now test it against what’d been found at the site of Charlotte’s murder. If the police would cooperate. Detective Dressler, the detective who’d worked that case, was so sure he had the right man, he wouldn’t be eager to delve back into the evidence. Amarok had already called him, and he’d said he’d get back to them.

  That was on Monday, and they still hadn’t heard.

  She sat down again and sliced open the envelope.

  Evelyn, please. I’ve written to the Innocence Project. They’re not interested in my case, but you could make someone take another look. Use your influence. Help me. I don’t care what the evidence suggests—or how I behaved with you. I agree that doesn’t make me look good, but I haven’t killed anyone!

  Tim

  Evelyn checked the time. Boston was four hours ahead of Hilltop. It was too late to call anyone on the East Coast tonight. But perhaps, in the morning, she should reach Detective Dressler, try to push him a little.

  Her phone rang.

  She snatched up the handset. “Dr. Talbot.”

  “I thought you were leaving,” Amarok said dryly.

  She smiled. He knew her well, knew how easily she could get distracted. “I am leaving. What are you doing?”

  “Still canvassing the town, flashing pictures of Sierra, asking if anyone’s seen her.”

  “Any luck?”

  “Samantha said she came into her store to buy ammo three days ago with her brother and his friends.”

  “She told you that when she dropped off the brownies?”