Her Darkest Nightmare (48 page)

Closing the gap between them, he ran his lips over the curve of her cheek. “How do you think they'll react to that news?”

“They'll be shocked and excited. They might even quit bugging me to come home,” she said wryly. “They've been pushing me to move on, to find a man, since forever.”

“Just not in Alaska?”

“Exactly. Closer to Boston,” she admitted. “But you're my first boyfriend since Jasper. That makes you significant.”

“Let's see if I can become a little more significant,” he said, and rolled her onto her back.

She caught his face. “You want to make love?”

“I want to bring you to climax, and I think now's the perfect time.”

The fear of failing at something so integral to being a woman welled up again. “We can do it later,” she said. “You're too tired tonight.”

“Quit being such a chicken,” he said. Then he showed her that he had all the stamina he needed—and that she'd been worried for nothing: her body could perform as well as any other woman's.

*   *   *

The following morning, Evelyn called her parents, who were so relieved that the killer had been caught they managed to muster a little support for her continued presence in Alaska, especially once they learned about Amarok.

After she hung up with them, she rode with Amarok and Makita to Anchorage, where they met his father, Hank, and his father's wife, Joanna, for dinner. Evelyn liked the old guy. Hank was a weathered fisherman, a man of few words, but she could tell that Amarok respected him. She respected him, too, sensed a great deal of strength in his quiet reserve. She especially enjoyed witnessing their father-son dynamic. She even liked Amarok's stepmother. Evelyn had been worried that his father might not be pleased with the age difference between her and Amarok, but he didn't act as if he even noticed.

Maybe he hadn't. She seemed to be the only one hyperaware—and hypersensitive—to those seven years. It wasn't like she was robbing the cradle. Most people wouldn't be able to tell there was much of a difference, just those who already knew. Anyway, Hank and Joanna had been much more captivated by her injuries and the story of what'd happened the past week than they were critical of her relationship with their son.

Once she and Amarok returned home, they cozied up in front of the fire for a while before tidying the cabin, doing laundry and getting ready for another workweek. Evelyn felt guilty for not going into the prison over the weekend. She'd meant to show some leadership, to reassure HH's employees. But after that struggle with Glenn and Anthony Garza, she'd needed the chance to recover.

Besides, there'd never been a time like this, when she so thoroughly enjoyed being with a man. She didn't want to miss out on a single moment.

On Monday, Amarok insisted on taking her to work so that she wouldn't have to drive her Beamer. As they passed her car, which they'd parked in the drive next to his truck, she noticed that he'd stuck a For Sale sign in the window.

“You're selling my car without my knowledge?” she asked.

He patted Makita, who was coming with them. “That's my way of notifying you.”

“If I sell my car I'll be more likely to stay. Is that your thought process?”

“My story is that I won't be able to quit worrying about you as long as you're driving that thing”—he shot her a grin—“and I'm sticking with it.”

“So it has nothing to do with getting me to stay.”

“I'm not sure I can
completely
deny that, but a small sedan, one that doesn't even have snow tires, is too impractical either way. Can't you get something else?”

“To be honest, I've already come to the conclusion that I should,” she admitted. “But I can't imagine I'll have any luck selling this kind of car here.”

“No one in Hilltop would buy that pansy-ass thing,” he agreed. “But”—he winked at her—“now that I have your permission, I'll place an ad on Craigslist for Anchorage.”

“We might have better luck if we wait until spring,” she pointed out.

“You need a four-wheel drive even if the Beamer sits parked in the driveway for the rest of winter.”

He was right. “I guess I could swing another payment,” she said, especially because she was going to sell her cabin. No way could she live there after finding Danielle's arm in her bed—and fighting Whitcomb and Garza for her life in the entryway. She hoped one of the psychologists she hired to replace Brand or Fitzpatrick might be interested in it. But, depending on how long she lived with Amarok, she should save more than enough on mortgage payments to pick up some added car expense. “What should I get instead?”

“An SUV would be nice.”

They talked cars until Amarok pulled under the portico of Hanover House to let her out. “What time should I pick you up?” he asked.

“I'll call. Will you be at your trooper post?”

“For a change.”

She gave Makita a scratch as she leaned over for a quick kiss from Amarok—and felt happier than she'd ever been.

With a final wave, she hurried inside and spoke to everyone she came across to let them know that, no matter what'd happened last week, Hanover House was going to be just fine and so were they.

Penny glanced up the second Evelyn walked into the mental health section. “Hi.”

“How are you?”

“Good,” she said. “You still coming over to get Sigmund tonight?”

“I am. Six thirty okay?”

“Fine with me, but … I'm going to miss him.”

“I hope he and Amarok's dog will be nice to each other.”

Penny blushed but made no comment about Evelyn's new living arrangements. “You have two messages,” she said, turning to business. “One from a Detective Green in Utah. He said to tell you he has the credit card, whatever that means.”

That didn't matter quite as much now that Anthony was dead. “And the other?”

Penny bit her lip. “Janice Holt with the BOP wants you to call her right away.”

Evelyn's heart skipped a beat. “She's back from New Zealand?”

“Not yet. She must've checked her voice mail or caught the news, though, because she knows about the murders. She sounded pretty upset.”

Some of Evelyn's optimism faded. Was her program headed for the scrap heap?

She hurried to her office, piled everything on her desk and stared down at the phone. Then she drew a deep breath and dialed.

Janice answered on the first ring. “Evelyn?”

“Yes?”

“What the hell's going on up there?”

“It's been a … a rough week.” She explained everything about the murders, Danielle having sex with the inmates and what happened with Fitzpatrick, how he'd been disappointed when she rejected him and that disappointment had smoldered into resentment.

“But he quit?” Janice said when she was done.

Evelyn slid her skirt up a few inches to study the bruise she'd gotten when Glenn kicked her. Her ankle actually seemed to be healing faster. “Yes, he walked out on Friday.”

“Thank the Lord.”

Evelyn went into a bit more detail, about the file she'd found in his office and what he'd done in his sessions with Hugo.

Janice listened silently, so silently that Evelyn was afraid to stop talking for fear of what she might say in response. But that moment had to come at some point and, when it did, Evelyn braced herself.

“You've had one hell of a time,” Janice said.

“As if the weather up here isn't bad enough,” Evelyn joked.

“So what now?”

“I'd like to replace Martin and Tim and keep working. Of course, Warden Ferris will take care of the job openings on the prison side.”

“The media has had a field day with this,” she mused.

“I'm aware of that. I'm sorry.”

“What they don't understand is that corruption can happen in any prison.”

A ray of sunshine came through the window, and it was so rare for this time of year that Evelyn got up to look out and enjoy it. “True. But what Fitzpatrick did will cost the mental health team a great deal of credibility.”

“I haven't seen Fitzpatrick on the news. Does anyone besides us know about what he did—in his sessions, I mean?”

Surprised by this question, Evelyn forgot about the sun. “No. I mean, Hugo did, but—”

“Hugo's dead.”

“Yes.” Amarok knew, too, of course, but she wasn't about to mention that. He wouldn't tell anyone.

“You said Fitzpatrick deleted the files that were stored there at the prison, so it's unlikely any of the rest of the team will ever look back.”

“There's still the cloud—”

“Which no one will have any reason to bother checking. It's not like we have to fire him and worry about showing cause. He quit.”

“True.…”

“Then, from my perspective, the whole Whitcomb/Kush/Petrowski thing has nothing to do with you, the other mental health professionals or the patients you're studying. Those were correctional officers, so it's a prison matter, something I should be discussing with the warden.”

Evelyn opened her mouth but wasn't quite sure what to say.

“Ferris has to get a handle on his staff,” Janice continued. “We can't afford this type of negative publicity at any prison, but least of all at Hanover House. Tell him he can expect to hear from me when I get back to the states.”

Too shocked to respond right away, Evelyn covered her mouth. She couldn't believe it. She was being left alone to continue as she'd been before?

She'd been so sure there would be severe repercussions!

There probably would've been, had Janice learned what was going on any sooner.…

“Dr. Talbot?” her boss said. “Hello? Are you still there?”

She cleared her throat. “Yes, I'm here. How was the wedding?”

“I'd enjoy the festivities a lot more if I liked my son-in-law,” she said. “Good luck finding the right people to fill the vacancies on your team.”

“Thank you. Have a safe trip.”

Janice had disconnected when Penny walked in, but Evelyn was still in a state of shock.

“Dr. Fitzpatrick called while you were on the phone.”

Evelyn couldn't help grimacing. “Don't tell me he asked to speak to
me
.”

“No, he knew you wouldn't want to talk to him.”

“So … was he after the files he left behind, or what?”

“He asked if I'd deliver his sincerest apologies, for everything, and tell you that he'll be moving back to the Lower Forty-eight as soon as possible.”

Grateful that he had the integrity to at least acknowledge his mistakes, Evelyn nodded. “Thank you,” she said, and waited for her assistant to go back out before calling Detective Green.

“You have the credit card?” Evelyn asked without preamble.

“I do,” he replied. “Now that it will no longer do us any good as far as convicting Garza.”

“At least his victims will know he was the one, and that he's gone. That should bring them some closure.”

“And save the government a pile of money. I owe you a drink, Dr. Talbot. Maybe someday I'll come up there and take a peek at Hanover House.”

“I'd like that.”

“I also wanted to tell you Elaine's daughter is having a baby—and plans to name it after you.”

That made a good morning even better. A baby brought hope, healing, especially because Evelyn wasn't sure she would ever have a child herself. “How nice.”

“You deserve that and more.”

“I only did what I should've done.” She was just saying good-bye when the warden knocked on her open door. “Morning,” she said, and waved him in.

He eyed her carefully as he approached the desk. “
Is
it a good morning?”

Curving her lips into a smile, she gestured toward the window. “It is indeed. Haven't you seen the sun?”

 

EPILOGUE

“I had a compulsion to do it.”

—ED GEIN, SERIAL KILLER (INSPIRATION FOR
PSYCHO
AND
SILENCE OF THE LAMBS
)

Jasper Moore, who was now going by the name of Andy Smith—he'd used several aliases over the years—sat at the table with his wife's two little girls while she made them all breakfast.

“What are you reading, Daddy?” Miranda, the oldest at eight, leaned over to see the newspaper.

He looked up from the piece he'd read twice already. “An article about a lady who's running a prison in Alaska.”

“Where's Alaska?” Chelsea, Miranda's younger sister by two years, got up on her knees.

“It's a place that's far away, where it's really cold,” he replied.

“Colder than here?” she asked.

He chuckled. “We live in Arizona. Almost every place is colder than here.”

Her little heart-shaped mouth puckered. “Not today. It's raining.”

He took a sip of his coffee. “Even we get a storm every once in a while.”

“How many people live in Alaska?” Chelsea asked.

“Not a lot,” he replied. “It's the last frontier.”

“What's a frontier?”

He should've known that question was coming next. “A vast wilderness with lots of animals and wide-open spaces.”

Miranda frowned as she studied the picture of Evelyn. “Why would such a pretty lady want to start a prison, especially where it's so cold?”

“This is a new kind of prison, one where they like to peek inside a man's head,” he explained.

Chelsea scrunched up her nose. “Can they do that?”

“They like to try.”

She seemed horrified. “Wouldn't it hurt?”

Hillary, his wife, carried a skillet over from the stove. “I don't think a place like that is meant to be pleasant. That's where they put bad people, honey.”