by Brenda Novak
“Oh well. No use crying about it now.”
“I can’t help it!” She put a hand to her head as if she was suddenly overwhelmed with dizziness. “She was my friend.”
“You’re drunk. And you look like shit.”
“Why are you being so mean?” she asked, obviously confused. “I just need a place to sleep. Tonight was a bad night at the club. I spent all the money I earned on a taxi to bring me over here.”
“Then you’ll have to figure out some other way to get home, because you’re not my problem.”
Her wounded expression grew even more pathetic. “I thought we were friends!”
He couldn’t let her in, couldn’t have anything to do with her now that the police had her on their radar. He didn’t want some little thing like a connection to a stripper to bring him to their notice. “Beat it!” he snapped. “I’m tired and going to bed.”
Her eyes widened. With all that makeup around them, she looked like a raccoon. “It’s freezing out here! At least give me the money for a cab!”
“Go to hell.” He slammed the door but almost instantly realized that if something happened to her tonight—if she didn’t make it home—he’d have the police on his doorstep for sure. The cabbie would know where he dropped her off.
Sticking his head outside, he called her back and gave her a twenty.
“Thank you!” she said with a teary sniff.
Her relieved smile made him want to punch her in the face. “Don’t come back here again. I won’t be so nice the next time.”
He spent the next thirty minutes pacing angrily in his living room. Bambi had no business showing up at his house. With all that talk about the investigation, she’d ruined the euphoria and optimism he’d been feeling.
Although … maybe she’d done him a favor. He’d been acting as though he had nothing to worry about, daydreaming of when he’d finally have Evelyn all to himself, as if connecting with her sister were going to deliver her to him on a silver platter. But with so many people searching for him, he couldn’t get complacent. Amarok, in particular, was no fool. It’d be a mistake to underestimate the forces marshaled against him.
Trying to shake off the dark mood that had taken hold of him, he went online to search for any information he could find on the murders of Katherine Sharpe and Sierra Yerbowitz. He couldn’t be so focused on what was in front of him that he forgot to watch his back.
* * *
There it was. Janice Holt’s response to her request for a leave of absence. Evelyn had hated writing that e-mail, cringed at the thought of what Janice might have to say about her leaving. She felt she was letting down her boss, letting down everyone who’d ever believed in her in a professional capacity, including all the people she worked with at Hanover House.
And Amarok … Amarok most of all.
But she wanted to stay, so staying was the option that felt selfish.
Taking a deep breath, she sat at her kitchen table—it was Saturday, so she wasn’t going to the prison—while Brianne slept in, and clicked on the e-mail.
Do you have to leave immediately? The institution is in a precarious position, Evelyn. Please reconsider. I’ve put a lot into Hanover House, too, and I don’t want news of your leaving to reach the public right now. With the recent murders up there, everyone needs to believe you’re standing firm and not caving under the pressure. At least stay in your current position until this bastard has been caught.
It was a fair request. One she felt obliged to honor. But she knew the next few months would be difficult with Amarok. Now that she was going to leave, she thought doing it quickly would be easier than dragging it out. What if Jasper was never caught?
She called Amarok at his trooper post. “Janice wants me to stay until the murders have been solved,” she said when he answered.
There was a slight pause. “What did you tell her?”
“I haven’t responded. I wanted to see how you felt about my staying.”
“I want you to stay, Evelyn. I thought that was clear.”
With conditions, and she couldn’t meet those conditions yet. “I know, but … won’t it be awkward? It’ll be miserable for both of us if you’re upset for the next several months. I guess what I’m asking is … I feel like I have to honor Janice’s request, but would you prefer I moved out?”
“Maybe,” he replied.
She winced. There weren’t many rentals in the area, but she could find an apartment in Anchorage and make the commute, like so many of the COs and other staff did. “I have to admit that hurts.”
“You know my terms.”
“You’re demanding a commitment.”
“I want to be sure, or as sure as possible, that I’m not giving my heart to someone who’s only going to break it. We’ve been together for almost two years. I don’t think I’m pushing too soon. At some point, I’m either worth it to you or I’m not.”
“You’re worth it,” she said. “There’s no question about that. This has nothing to do with you.”
“Then we’ll see what you decide,” he said, and hung up.
Evelyn sighed as she turned back to her computer to type her reply to Janice.
I’ll stay as long as I can.
* * *
Samantha checked her lipstick and her hair in the rearview mirror of her Subaru before climbing out and going inside Amarok’s trooper post.
He was sitting behind his desk, frowning at his phone, when he heard the door and glanced up.
“Hey.” She offered him her sweetest smile. She’d spent all of last night going from one strip club to the next on Spenard Road, looking for Jasper but without any luck. Although she’d met plenty of weird guys, none of them were particularly frightening. None of them seemed to know—or care—who Evelyn was, either. She could go back tonight—she had tomorrow off because she didn’t open the store on Sundays—but she was exhausted and losing hope that trying to find him in that way was really going to work out.
She needed to think of something else.…
“Hey.” He seemed distracted, upset. Makita barked and trotted over to lick her hand and she knelt to pet him, but, other than the dog, they were alone. She’d driven past before stopping by, just to make sure Phil, or anyone else, wasn’t around.
“Did you find any trace of that guy who was lurking in the alley behind my store?” she asked.
Amarok pinched the bridge of his nose, then lowered his hand. He looked grim, tired. She wished she could circle his desk and massage those big shoulders. He had to be feeling the strain of his job. She doubted he’d ever expected this type of pressure when he became a trooper—not here in Hilltop. He had Evelyn to thank for what he was going through, what the entire area was going through. Samantha was tempted to leave her another note, one more hateful than the last. Maybe she’d finally get the point and get the hell out of town, save Samantha the trouble of trying to come up with another way to get rid of her.
“I’m afraid not,” he said.
Makita trailed behind her as she approached his desk. “I’m scared to open up my shop in the mornings—or close up at night. Do you think it’s safe?”
“It might not be. You need to be wary at all times. Definitely keep your gun on you.”
That was it? Keep her gun on her? She was fairly certain he wasn’t treating Evelyn’s safety so cavalierly. But then … Evelyn couldn’t even shoot a gun, which just went to prove she wasn’t meant to be living in Alaska. “How long do you think this will go on?”
“Investigations take time. I’m working as hard and as fast as I can.”
“I can tell. You look exhausted. I feel so bad for what you’re going through.”
He raked his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “I’ll be fine, but thanks for your concern.”
When she didn’t leave, he said, “Is there something else?”
She drew a deep breath. “We’re a small community, Amarok. We shouldn’t have that kind of crime here. We never had it before.�
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He raised his eyebrows. “And your point is?”
She knew she was going too far but couldn’t help herself. “Why are you supporting an institution you know isn’t good for the area just because you’re in love with the psychiatrist who runs it? How is that fair to the rest of us, who rely on you to look out for the safety of the community?”
A muscle moved in his cheek. “I was one of the few who spoke out against Hanover House.”
“Before it came here!”
“Now it’s too late!”
“It’s not too late. Sandy is dead because of Hanover House! We have two other people murdered. How long will it be before it’s another friend? Someone we grew up with?”
He slammed one of the drawers in his desk, which had been hanging open by a few inches. “Sandy is dead because of a psychopath. Not because of Evelyn.”
“She brought that psychopath here, and she’s bringing others!”
“The research she’s doing is important. Someone has to do it somewhere,” he said, but he wasn’t shouting anymore. She could tell he was feeling beleaguered and disillusioned. The murders, the lack of sleep, and maybe something more personal—trouble between him and Evelyn?—was getting to him.
Samantha lowered her voice beseechingly. “Amarok, listen to me. I know you care for her, but she doesn’t belong here. She’s not one of us. She doesn’t love this place like we do. The only thing that matters to her is what she can achieve with her work. She’s using you—”
“Stop it,” he interrupted with a scowl. “She’s not using me.”
“Fine, but she’s never going to marry you. She’s going to leave here, leave you, eventually. You realize that, don’t you?”
He looked absolutely miserable when he met her gaze. “Yeah, I realize that.”
Samantha felt the first surge of hope she’d experienced in a long time when it came to Amarok. He and Evelyn were coming to an end. She could see it in his eyes. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “Losing her won’t be the end of the world.”
She’d make sure of it, be there to step in when he needed her most.
“Sam—”
She lifted a hand. “I know you’re busy. I’m going,” she said, and hurried home to get ready. She wouldn’t go back to Anchorage tonight. She’d go to the Moosehead instead. If Amarok ever left his trooper post, he would probably go there. He made it a point to police the bar, especially on weekends.
25
Spending more time with Andy Smith didn’t improve Evelyn’s opinion of him. He seemed so vain. Every story he told featured him as the daring protagonist—and he told story after story. One in which he woke up with his house on fire but managed to pull his ex-wife and her two daughters to safety. “If I hadn’t gotten up to go to the bathroom when I did, they would’ve died of smoke inhalation. That’s how bad it was,” he said. Some paint rags in the garage had spontaneously combusted, and the fire department didn’t arrive in time to save much. He lost all the photographs and mementos of his past. Evelyn had bought into that story, thought it was tragic and felt terrible for him, but as he continued to talk she began to wonder if everything he said could be true. For instance, he also claimed to have spotted a terrorist on a plane and held the guy in the bathroom for the duration of the flight. And that he’d run into Mariah Carey when he was in New York City and she somehow got separated from her security detail, so he threw his coat and his arm around her to protect her from the pressing throng until he could get her safely to her limo.
Although Evelyn was silently shaking her head, Brianne didn’t seem to doubt him. She appeared to be enjoying herself, and that was all that mattered. Evelyn just wanted her sister to be happy. She also wanted Amarok to come home. She couldn’t help glancing at the door every so often, hoping he’d walk in. She missed him so much, and she hadn’t even left Hilltop yet. He’d spoiled her for all other men. As far as she was concerned, no one else could compare. No one else had his well-balanced ego, his sense of fair play, his ability to listen instead of dominating every conversation, his quiet strength.
What he could do in the bedroom was even better.…
Warmth traveled through her as she thought of his hands on her body. It seemed like forever since they’d made love. How was she going to survive a whole year in Boston without him?
She wasn’t looking forward to that, just as she wasn’t looking forward to moving out of his house.
“So what’d you do next?” Brianne asked Andy.
“I swam out over the reef and dragged him to shore, of course,” Andy replied. “I couldn’t leave him out there. He would’ve been shark bait.”
Evelyn realized she’d missed a large chunk of the conversation. Andy was now in the middle of relating some ocean experience he claimed to have had. But it was hard not to let her mind wander. She had little interest in Andy or his farfetched stories. And she was getting tired.
Fortunately, the night was almost over. They’d finished eating the delicious salmon and vegetables Brianne had cooked and were sitting around the table. Evelyn had a glass of wine and so did Andy. Brianne had water, but that didn’t seem to bother her any more than some of the outlandish things Andy said.
“You could’ve been killed!” Brianne told him.
“Someone had to do it.” He went into detail about the different species of sharks that swam around that reef, just to emphasize how dangerous it had been.
Evelyn saw him look at her every few seconds to make sure she was paying attention and smiled as though she was, but she couldn’t wait for him to leave. She was tempted to peek at her watch. She didn’t because she was afraid he’d notice. He was Brianne’s guest; she needed to be as polite as possible.
“That’s not the only incident where I had to save someone on a beach,” he said, and told them about a mother who’d lost track of her child and how he’d pulled the little girl out of the surf and performed CPR.
“Did she live?” Brianne gasped.
“She did,” he said. “She coughed up water and started to breathe. Her mother was so grateful.”
“I bet! That must’ve been terrifying.”
“I almost had a heart attack when I saw her floating in the water. Why her mother wasn’t paying more attention I don’t know. It only takes—”
“What do you think about the murders we’ve had here?” Evelyn broke in.
She’d fallen silent for so long, they both seemed startled that she still had a voice. Or maybe it was that she’d cut him off before he could finish his statement. But she had to stop him before he launched into yet another story, and the investigation was all Evelyn could think about these days.
“You mean Sierra Yerbowitz and that other woman?” Andy asked.
Evelyn crossed her legs. “Katherine Sharpe, yes.”
“The police have a real problem on their hands.”
“You don’t believe Amarok will be able to find the killer?”
He finished his wine and held out his glass, since Brianne was offering to refill it. “I’m sure Amarok’s an amazing cop, but you and I both work at the prison. We know what those men are like.”
“You’re assuming we’re looking for a serial killer, then.”
“Aren’t you assuming the same thing? I read in the paper that the victims had no apparent connection to each other, even though they were found together. Two random victims will make the investigation a lot harder.”
“Yes, but the killer left evidence.”
He leaned back. “What evidence? It’s tough to have an informed opinion without knowing all the facts.”
“The bodies, for one. Katherine was tortured. Sierra wasn’t. Why the difference?”
“The question is … why are we talking about murder?” Brianne said. “Don’t you both get enough of that at Hanover House?” She stood and started gathering the dishes. “I’ve made a lemon chiffon cake. Let’s have dessert and change the subject. I, for one, am sick of dark topics. I wish I never had to hear
about another psychopath.”
Evelyn thought the conversation was just getting interesting. Since Andy pretended to know so much about everything, she was curious to hear his opinion, wanted to see if he had anything insightful to add. He seemed flattered that she’d asked and keen on answering. But he was Brianne’s date, and Brianne wasn’t going to let their current crisis ruin what would be her last night in Alaska.
“Of course.” Evelyn cast them both an apologetic smile. “I’m preoccupied with the situation, but I don’t mean to spoil your evening. I’ve had enough to eat. No dessert for me.” Intent on going to her room so they could have some privacy, she pushed away from the table. “Time for me to find my bed.”
“You don’t have to leave,” Brianne said. “I wasn’t suggesting that.”
“She’s right. Stay,” Andy chimed in. “I’m enjoying your company. We both are.”
Evelyn picked up her plate. “Thank you, but I’m exhausted. I’ll stack the dishes for now. We can do them in the morning, Bri, so don’t worry about them tonight.”
With the help of Brianne and Andy, she’d just about cleared the table when the phone rang.
Brianne was closest to it. “Looks like it’s that attorney friend of yours again,” she said. “He sure stays up late, doesn’t he?”
“I suspect he’s a workaholic, like me.” Evelyn’s hands were wet from rinsing plates; she quickly dried them. “Plus he knows it’s four hours earlier here, so it’s okay to call.”
“Burning the midnight oil again?” she asked Ashton once they’d both said hello.
“I finally had a chance to go through my voicemail today,” he told her.
“And? Have you heard from the lab?” She’d been on pins and needles, waiting to hear back, but she hadn’t expected word so soon. To keep from feeling too anxious, she’d told herself Monday would be the earliest.
At the energy and enthusiasm in her voice, Brianne and Andy turned to watch her.
