Sweet Dreams Boxed Set (96 page)

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Maybe nothing. It’s just that...some guy honked at me a few seconds ago, and when I looked over, he flipped me off.”

Evelyn wasn’t sure how to respond to this. Her mother wasn’t that great of a driver. She drove too slow or changed lanes at the worst possible moment, so Evelyn could understand someone getting frustrated enough to make a crude hand gesture. “Did you cut him off?”

“No! I didn’t do anything! I was driving along in my own lane when he came up on the side of me. And it wasn’t as if he was angry. He was grinning like...like he knew me and was excited to see me again.”

A smile didn’t sound in keeping with the road rage her mother normally inspired. “But you didn’t know
him
.”

“I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

“So...why do you think he did that?”

“I have no idea.”

A woman’s voice came over the intercom. “This is the final boarding call for Alaska Air flight number 1261 to Anchorage...”

Evelyn was out of time. She had to go. “It could be that he thought you were someone else, someone with whom he might joke around. Maybe he was trying to be funny.”

“I guess,” she said.

Evelyn pictured the worried face that would go with that voice. “Where is he now? Can you see him?”

“No. He sped away.”

Then it had to be nothing, a simple case of mistaken identity. None of the psychopaths she’d worked with over the years knew her mother. They didn’t live in the same place they had when she was attacked, and they kept their number unlisted. It would be difficult for anyone to find them, especially randomly, on the road, but if someone
was
targeting Lara for nefarious purposes, he’d remain in the vicinity, most likely follow her. “Just keep an eye on your rearview mirror, be aware of what’s around you at all times, and keep your phone handy,” she said. “If you see him again, call the police. It’s better to be wrong and safe than right and sorry.”

“Okay,” she said.

All the other people on the flight had boarded and the attendants were getting ready to close up the plane. “I’ve gotta go,” Evelyn said. “I love you.” Then she sighed and turned off her phone. Since Hilltop didn’t have cell service, she wouldn’t be able to use it much in Alaska, not once she left Anchorage.

But she’d had her landline installed at the bungalow, she reminded herself. She could check in on her mother that way.

***

The surgery had paid off. Lara hadn’t even recognized him. When he’d honked and given her the finger, she’d looked over at him, completely baffled. It was about the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

Everything else had paid off, too, “Andy” decided. He’d stayed away from Evelyn and her family for twenty excruciatingly long years and, in that time, he’d carefully set up the perfect cover, complete with a wife who supported him financially and step-kids who made him look no different than any other family man. And now his patience and planning were going to bring him exactly what he’d craved since he was seventeen. He’d found Evelyn. He’d finally fucking found her, just like he’d always dreamed!

Suddenly, Andy could’ve kissed his latest victim, whether she was dead or not. If she hadn’t croaked, he wouldn’t have gone to Evelyn’s parents’ house quite so early. He wouldn’t have been sitting there when her mother came out. He wouldn’t have been driving behind Lara when she traveled to the gated condo complex where Evelyn must live.

He’d stayed outside the gate, hadn’t dared push his luck
that
far. But he’d made a note of the unit Lara had gone to, and he’d seen Evelyn in the passenger seat when they passed him.

He couldn’t believe it. He’d been within fifty feet of her. It was almost too good to be true, seemed like just another of the many fantasies he created around her. But it wasn’t. This time it was real. And she’d looked so beautiful, like she did on TV.

He couldn’t
wait
until he could get close enough to touch her...

That was coming, he promised himself. They’d driven to the airport, where Evelyn had stepped out. It was obvious she was leaving Boston. But that didn’t scare him. Her parting with her mother hadn’t been an emotional one, so he doubted she’d be gone long. And now that he knew where she lived, he could be waiting for her when she got back.

Or...maybe he’d go after her. She’d been dropped off at Alaska Air. He could easily guess where she was going—off to babysit her new “facility,” as he’d heard her call it on TV, currently being built an hour from Anchorage.

Such a remote setting offered so many possibilities, so much privacy and space. He could tell anyone who asked that he was an author, writing a book on the criminal justice system. With the interest Hanover House had been receiving, no one would even question it. He was too good of a liar. And if he was working for himself there’d be no way for someone to check his credentials, even if they
did
question his story.

It was brilliant. And there was one more thing. If he went to Alaska, he wouldn’t have to come home to Hillary at night, which was a bonus. He’d be alone with Evelyn until he had his fill...

He adjusted himself.
Now
he was getting excited. He just needed to devise a lie convincing enough to get his wife to buy him a plane ticket to California. His parents would give him money once he got there; they always did. And that would enable him to fly to Alaska.

Imagine the fun he could have with Evelyn if time wasn’t an issue...

Chapter 5

Fortunately, Evelyn had slept for most of the ten hours she’d been on the plane. Without her mother sitting next to her, brooding, it’d been a lot easier to relax.

After she reached Ted Stevens International Airport in Anchorage, she had to grab a bite to eat, rent a car and drive an hour to Hilltop—and yet, because of the time difference, she arrived before nine-thirty, when the sun was just setting. In June, on the longest day of the year, Anchorage received twenty-two hours of sunlight. But from the beginning of August to the end, the days grew rapidly shorter—by almost three hours.

Evelyn had yet to visit Alaska in mid-winter. There’d been no reason to brave the weather. It wasn’t as if she needed to decide whether she’d be willing to come; she knew she’d go wherever the government built her a facility. She’d heard a great deal about the prevailing darkness, however, and wasn’t looking forward to it.

She called Amarok as soon as she spotted the straggle of buildings that constituted Hilltop from the ridge above, and asked him to meet her out at Hanover House, which was ten minutes on the far side of the valley. He agreed, but she beat him there, and she was glad. It gave her an opportunity to stand alone in the dwindling sunlight—before she had to view the damage he’d told her about—and admire the huge stone edifice where she would soon be spending the bulk of her time. Her dream was becoming a reality; this proved it. Fortunately, she couldn’t see any graffiti on the front. The portable toilets weren’t here, either. She could only guess all of that was inside or in the back.

Maybe the people of Hilltop had room to complain about the type of men she’d be bringing to the area, she thought, but they couldn’t say anything about the beauty of the facility itself. The old-world architecture of Hanover House made it look as if it would stand for centuries, like a castle. There were no gargoyles or gothic embellishments, thank goodness, but the lines were a bit Draconian—something others had noticed, too. She’d seen one cartoon that depicted HH as a medieval torture chamber. She’d been lampooned in the same cartoon as the “mad scientist” who was “turning the screws” on the “poor, unfortunate souls” who fell within her power, which was frustrating. If the general populace only knew how well she tried to treat the men she studied, they could never make such an imaginative leap.

She heard a vehicle pull into the lot behind her and turned to see Amarok get out of his government-issued 4x4, which sported a winch and a snowplow. When she saw that he was dressed casually in a flannel shirt and a pair of worn jeans instead of his uniform, she realized that she’d probably pulled him out of whatever he did for enjoyment on a Friday night.

“I’m sorry, I—if you were busy, you should’ve said something,” she told him as he came toward her with that long, confident stride of his. “This could’ve waited until tomorrow.”

His lips twisted slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re surprised that other people don’t work twenty-four hours a day.”

She couldn’t help noting the sarcasm and feeling slightly defensive at the implication. “
I
don’t work twenty-four hours a day.”

He cocked an eyebrow as if he’d refute that statement, so she glanced away to remove the challenge. That was an argument she’d most assuredly lose. “I agree I work too much,” she admitted, “but there’s no need to exaggerate my hours to
that
degree.”

“From what I’ve seen, if you’re not working, you’re thinking about work. It’s sort of one and the same.”

“Excuse me?” she said. “You don’t even know me.”

He ignored her response. “What happened to your head?” he asked, indicating her stitches. “Were you in an accident?”

“Not exactly.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t a bar fight, since I can’t see you even going into a bar.”

She folded her arms. “It was more like a prison fight.”

“You got into it with an inmate?”

“I was blindsided. Nothing I could do about it.”

His eyes slid down to the scar on her neck. “By one of the nut jobs you work with?”

“He isn’t a nut job. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

He scratched his neck. “You’re saying you were attacked.
Again
.”

She shrugged as if it hadn’t been a big deal, even though it sort of was. “Goes with the territory.”

With a shake of his head—in disgust?—he rested his hands on his lean hips. “God, no wonder you hate men.”

“I don’t hate men,” she argued. “You’ve just decided that you don’t like me because you don’t like what I’m doing.”

“I never said it was personal.” He gestured toward the building. “And I’m not the one who tore out the copper here and broke the windows, no matter what you think.”

“I would hope not, since you’re all I’ve got to rely on as far as bringing those who did it to justice.” Although there wasn’t any snow on the ground, the temperature was dropping significantly with nightfall. She buttoned her suit jacket to ward off the chill. “Anyway, you didn’t have to meet me
tonight
. You could’ve put it off.”

He shrugged. “I figured I might as well get it over with.”

Feeling rumpled after traveling for so long, she wished they
had
agreed to meet in the morning. She was worried about the extent of the damage, was eager to see it in case the reality might offset some of the worry, but she couldn’t deny possessing a certain amount of female vanity. She wanted Amarok to think she was pretty, and she could’ve made a better showing—but that was something she hadn’t been willing to kowtow to, hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

It was harder to be so cavalier, however, now that they were face to face. “I’ll be quick so that you can get back to...to enjoying your evening, then.” She gestured toward the entrance. “Where’s the damage? I suppose it’s inside?”

“It’s everywhere. You just can’t see it from the front. No doubt whoever did it was afraid they’d be spotted if someone pulled in—from the construction crew or whatever.”

“Have you spoken to the construction crew? Did any of them see anyone they didn’t recognize, or anyone who was acting unusual?”

“’Fraid not. Every single one claims everything was fine when they finished up for the night on Wednesday. Thursday morning they arrived to discover the damage.”

“And called you.”

He dipped his head in response.

“Where’s the copper?”

“It was piled in back, but I had them take it inside. With all the windows broken in the office section, and no real divide between that and the prison section at the moment, ‘inside’ provides little protection, but...I figured it was better than doing nothing.”

Evelyn frowned as they entered what was finished of Hanover House so far. “Do you think they were planning to come back and pick it up?”

“If so, they haven’t. I hung out here for quite a while last night, hoping they would.”

“That was nice of you,” she said.

He caught and held her gaze even though she was reluctant to let him. “I’ll take that as your apology for accusing me in the first place.”

“I didn’t
accuse
you.” She lifted her chin in umbrage. “I just... I know how you feel about this place.”

“Because I’ve made it no secret,” he said pointedly. “But I’m not dumb enough to come out in open opposition and
then
sabotage the construction.”

Evelyn had been prepared for some damage but what she saw proved even more disheartening than she’d expected. He’d been right about the “c” word. The construction crew had focused on trying to get some of the plumbing back in and had left the more superficial damage for later, which meant the graffiti was right there for her to read. “Apparently, someone feels very strongly that I should die.” She forced a smile with that statement as if it didn’t bother her, but he hesitated as if he could tell it did.

“I’m hoping that’s a figurative statement,” he said at length.

“Even if it isn’t, they’ll have to get in line.” Her heels clicked on the concrete as they walked through the facility.

“This makes me sick,” she said when they’d toured it all. “It’s such a waste to deface property like this. I worked so hard to get the money necessary to build this institution in the first place.”

He said nothing, just leaned against some 2x4’s that would soon be walls, and watched as she made a note of everything.

“Do you think it’ll be reported in the news?” she asked.

“Depends on who the construction workers tell. They’re from Anchorage, which isn’t ideal if you’d rather keep it quiet.
I
haven’t told anyone.”