She probably felt she had to stay and defend herself, defend what she’d built and what she was trying to do with it, but her overall welfare meant more than anything else. “I want you to go home,” he said. “If I know you’re safe, I’ll have some peace of mind, and I can handle this.”
“There’s too much going on at Hanover House. Janice won’t understand if I take off right now. I have my first female inmate arriving on Monday. And once Janice hears that we’re very likely looking at another murder…”
She didn’t finish.
“You don’t want anyone to know you’re struggling,” he said.
“I can’t let anyone know, Amarok.”
He held her closer and rubbed her back. He hated what she’d been through, hated that he couldn’t make everything better, no matter how hard he tried. If he could catch Jasper, perhaps things would be different. Of course things would be different. Then she could heal without being thrust back into the nightmare that had started her down the path of researching the conscienceless. But knowing Jasper was out there, just waiting for his chance, meant she could never fully relax, never fully trust that the future would be everything they were hoping to build.
“Then we have to do something,” he murmured.
“Like what?”
She needed more emotional support. A piece of home that she could hang on to like a security blanket. But he knew better than to invite her parents to town. Her mother struggled with depression and was constantly nagging Evelyn to come home. Evelyn always looked relieved, if not exhausted, when they hung up. So Amarok couldn’t see how having her parents in town would help.
What about Brianne? Evelyn had mentioned, several times over the past few months, how much she missed her sister.
“You told me Brianne’s been talking about coming to visit.”
“So?”
“Let’s make it happen. Have her come out, right away.”
“In this weather?”
“Why not? We should be able to get her in and out. It’s not like the whole state shuts down when it snows. We’re used to this. Technically, it’s not even winter yet.”
“But…”
He tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “But what?”
“What if this is Jasper?”
She thought Jasper was responsible for everything that went wrong, and he could understand why. “We were afraid the other murders we’ve dealt with over the past couple of years were Jasper, too. And they weren’t. None of them. This one might not be him, either.”
“What if it is?” she repeated stubbornly.
“Then having Brianne around will help keep you safe. I’d rather you weren’t alone at the house while I’m out investigating. I’ll be pulling a lot of late nights over the next few weeks or for however long it takes to figure out who’s responsible for what happened here.”
He thought she’d continue to argue. Having company meant she couldn’t put in her usual long hours, and she was so driven. There never seemed to be a good time to interrupt her work. She definitely fit aspects of the “mad scientist” stereotype, and he often teased her about it. But she mumbled, “Okay,” and pressed her cheek against his chest. Her agreement told him he had real reason to worry about her. Even she knew she needed someone.
“We’ll call her as soon as we get home.”
“She’ll probably be too busy to just up and leave. She has her own work to worry about. And her own man.”
“The wedding isn’t until spring.”
“That doesn’t mean she won’t be hesitant to leave Boston.”
He and Brianne had only ever talked on the phone, hadn’t actually met. But he felt confident she’d make the necessary arrangements—once he let her know Evelyn needed her, which he’d do secretly if he had to. “She’ll come.”
*
“Hey, handsome, why so glum?”
Jasper pulled his gaze away from his drink long enough to glance at the blonde sliding onto the stool next to him. Her name was Bambi, or maybe that was just her stage name. She danced here at the club, typically came on right before Vivian, the raven-haired beauty he liked to watch. Bambi had shown interest in him before, but he’d never found her particularly appealing. With bleached hair, tattoos covering both arms, a ring in her nose and fake boobs that bordered on caricature, she didn’t look anything like Evelyn. But a sexual outlet was a sexual outlet. He’d only allowed himself to take one victim since moving to Alaska; he had to show some restraint if he hoped to achieve what he’d set out to achieve—so he had to relieve his powerful and constant lust somehow.
He offered her the smile that’d gained him so many conquests in the past. “Had a rough day.”
Her bottom lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. “Poor baby. What was so bad about it?”
Besides having to dispose of two dead girls? Nearly freezing his balls off in the process? Knowing some car was driving around with part of one victim’s scalp on its axle, the discovery of which would intensify the investigation into Sierra’s disappearance and focus it on Hilltop, when he’d be much safer if that connection was never made? “I won’t bore you with the details,” he said, and couldn’t help chuckling at his own euphemism.
She seemed to take his levity as a hopeful sign. “Ooh, you’re not only handsome, you’re mysterious.”
He laughed outright. “I’ve got more secrets than you could ever imagine.”
“I’m intrigued.”
“Tell me something.”
She tossed her hair back. “What’s that?”
“Is your name really Bambi?” He was trying to picture the kind of parents who’d give their daughter a name like that.
“Of course it is,” she said, but her coy smile suggested the opposite.
“Nice name,” he said with a shrug.
“Why not?” She took a sip of his drink. “It’s sexy and yet … innocent.”
“There’s nothing about you that’s innocent,” he said as he reclaimed his glass.
“Some guys think they want innocence, but experience is a hell of a lot more fun,” she said with a laugh. “Anyway, I can play stupid if you like.”
She was stupid. She just didn’t know it. She proved that when she leaned so far into him the tassels on her pasties brushed his arm. “Want to take me home tonight?” she whispered.
He made no move to touch her, careful not to show too much interest. “Sorry. I don’t pay for sex.”
Immediately backing off, she scowled at him. “What are you, a cop?”
“No. I just refuse to pay for something I can get for free.”
The smile slid from her face. “Then you might want to find a different place to hang out, sweetheart. The girls in here are professionals. We expect a little something for our time.”
He caught her arm before she could slip off the stool and move on to someone else. “I’m not ungenerous.”
She glared at the hand holding on to her. “What does that mean?”
“I have a dime bag of coke.” He didn’t have too much time to devote to getting what he wanted tonight. He had to be at work by four in the morning. But this would only take a couple of hours. Fortunately, he didn’t need much sleep. He rarely slept more than five hours a night.
She lowered her voice. “You wanna get high?”
“No, you wanna get high.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And you want something else.”
He tugged on one of her tassels. “You don’t have to play the innocent for me. I prefer a girl who doesn’t mind a little kink.”
She smacked his hand away. “What kind of kink?”
“Light bondage. A few toys.”
She pursed her lips. It was a slow night, which meant she didn’t have many options. And he was a regular, familiar enough that she didn’t seem concerned about what he’d just said. She was assuming he wouldn’t go too far, and he wouldn’t, but only because he couldn’t upset or harm anyone he associated with. That would be the quickest way to get caught.
“Let’s see if you have more than coke to promise me,” she said, and grabbed his crotch.