Her father rapped on her window as he carried her suitcase to the sidewalk. “You coming?”
She was tempted to ask if she could spend the night with them. She was so tired. She wanted to feel safe for a change. But such an admittance would only convince them that she wasn’t doing as well as she pretended. So she got out and opened her mother’s door to say goodbye. “I hope you’re not going to stay mad at me.”
“Maybe I will,” her mother responded with a pout. “Why do you have to worry me so much?”
“When I suffer, you suffer. I get that. I’m sorry I didn’t turn out to be a...a nurse or a real estate agent. But...as long as Jasper’s still out there, would anything be safe?”
Her mother said nothing.
“I believe in my work,” Evelyn added. “Knowledge is power.”
Lara held out for another second. Then she pulled Evelyn into her arms and hugged her fiercely. “Please be careful.”
“I will.” Evelyn breathed in the familiar floral scent of her mother’s perfume. “I promise. You know I have a gun inside, and I know how to use it.”
When her father brought her suitcases into the house, Evelyn almost asked him to look through every room, even the closets, despite the fact that her security system indicated no one had been inside the condo since she’d been gone. The little girl in her still craved Daddy’s protection, she supposed. But she’d quit having him do stuff like that after graduating from college, when she’d bought her Glock.
“Your mom loves you, you know,” he said.
She nodded, absently looking for anything that might be out of place. “We’ll work through it.”
He propped his hands on his hips as if he might say more. But he must’ve realized that nothing would convince her to change her mind. She was going to Alaska no matter what. So, after a sigh, he put his arms around her.
“We both love you,” he said. Then he was gone and she was left to lower the blinds and listen to the settling noises of her condo while wishing she’d insisted they take the time to stop by her sister’s to pick up her cat. The house felt so empty without Sigmund...
Evelyn wondered how many women, like her, had to feel afraid, even inside their own homes. Probably not a lot per capita. But there were other survivors out there. They understood.
She took her gun from the kitchen drawer and went through her nightly ritual where she checked every nook and cranny that could possibly hide a human being. Only when she felt confident that no one was going to jump out at her did she put her gun on the counter, slip off her shoes and turn on the TV.
The nightly news came on. She watched for a few minutes, trying to relax so that she could sleep. She wanted to see if anything about her experience at San Quentin would be reported. But hearing about a missing woman and then a murder downtown didn’t help her anxiety. She kept glancing at the darkness beyond her windows, wondering if someone was out there—and if that someone might try to get in before morning.
She’d just walked over to fix herself a drink when her phone rang.
The Alaskan area code told her it had to do with Hanover House. It was four hours earlier there, so not too late to be calling someone. But Bob Ferris, the warden she’d hired, had taken his family to Hawaii for two weeks, before he had to start work in earnest, so who could this be? A member of the mental health team who’d gone to Alaska to oversee the building of his or her home?
“Hello?”
“Dr. Talbot?”
The deep voice on the other end of the line gave the caller’s identity away before he could provide his name. It wasn’t a member of the team. It was Benjamin Murphy—or Sergeant Amarok, as the locals called him—the handsome Alaskan State Trooper who served as Hilltop’s only police presence, other than the two part-time Village Public Safety Officers he designated each summer to help him enforce the hunting and fishing regulations, which was the bulk of his job.
“Sergeant, what can I do for you?” She caught her breath, feeling that odd rush of excitement that came over her whenever he was around. She wasn’t often attracted to someone like she was attracted to him—and had been from the first moment she’d set eyes on him. Especially someone who didn’t particularly like her in return.
“I’m afraid there’s been some vandalism at the prison,” he replied. “I received a call from the construction crew this morning, and went out to have a look. I left you a voicemail, but when I didn’t hear back, I thought I’d better try again.”
She’d been flying all day, hadn’t yet checked her messages. “Some vandalism?” she echoed nervously. She didn’t need trouble. What she was trying to accomplish was difficult enough...
“Yes. The copper pipes, tubing and wiring have been ripped out,” he explained.