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 that 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?”
“I actually went over there.”
That he’d gone to see his ex-girlfriend, even in the line of duty, bothered Evelyn. It wasn’t just that Samantha made no secret of her desire to get Amarok back; it was also that Evelyn feared Samantha was a better fit for him.
Careful not to reveal her jealousy—she understood how tedious it would be to feel he was being harangued over the fact that an ex couldn’t seem to move on—Evelyn kept her voice as normal as possible. “That’s it?”
“So far.”
He sounded tired. “Have you had anything to eat?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“Swing by the house in an hour. I’ll have dinner ready.”
“That’s okay. I’ll grab a bite later. I’m going to keep at it.”
“Are you getting discouraged?”
“A little,” he admitted.
“Why?”
There was a slight pause. Then he said, “I talked to Allen Call and Ward Brothers.”
“And?”
“They both have airtight alibis.”