“Easy to say.” The man lowered his voice. “But have you ever killed a man?”
Amarok couldn’t help leaning forward to get a better look at the stranger’s face. He didn’t like his tone, or his bravado, either. He also didn’t see why someone from outside the area would have such a strong opinion on Hanover House. Why did this jerk care so much?
“Of course I haven’t killed a man,” Eric said. “But only because I’ve never had to.”
“It takes a certain kind of person,” the guy responded.
“Anyone can kill,” Eric argued.
“No way. You’ll never see it coming. These are hardened murderers we’re talking about, people who delight in fear and degradation and pain. There won’t be a damn thing you or anyone else can do, least of all Evelyn Talbot. It’s not as if she’s like some animal trainer who’ll have a special rapport with the men she counsels. She’ll probably be the first to take it in the ass and then have her head lopped off.”
Eric finished his water. “If one escapes, the police will catch up with him eventually.”
“What police? From what I hear, you have only one state trooper in the area—and he isn’t even thirty years old.”
Eric must’ve seen Amarok walk into the diner, because he turned and glanced down the bar with a “I didn’t say that,” kind of look. Eric was familiar with him, but the stranger would have no way of knowing he was that state trooper. It was Sunday morning, so he wasn’t in uniform.
“Sergeant Amarok’s all right,” Eric told the guy. “Believe me, what he doesn’t have in age, he makes up for in ability. He’s been an Alaskan State Trooper for at least eight years, and he’s done a damn fine job of it so far.”
“A damn fine job of handing out citations for hunting or fishing in the wrong places?” the stranger said. “Or removing animal carcasses from the road?”
Eric cleared his throat. “Maybe you didn’t notice me look that way a second ago.” Or he didn’t care. That was the impression Amarok got. “But that trooper you mentioned? He’s sitting right there. And he just heard you.”
The stranger leaned forward and met Amarok’s gaze, but instead of acting embarrassed or apologetic, he grinned with an insolence that made Amarok want to punch him in the face.
“I was just stating my opinion. That’s not a crime, is it, Sergeant?” he called down.
“No, it’s not a crime at all,” Amarok responded. “What brings you to town?”
“Oh boy. Now he wants to know what I’m doing here, which means I’ve gotten on his bad side.” The stranger’s smile widened, as if he was enjoying this exchange. “I’d better be careful not to speed or run a stop sign.”
Eric tossed his new “friend” a grimace. “Sorry, Amarok,” he said as he laid some bills on the counter. “I barely met this dude, didn’t realize he was such a prick,” he said and walked out.
The guy’s smile didn’t waver despite Eric’s words. “Oh no. Now I’ve also offended a friend of yours.”
“He merely stated his opinion,” Amarok said. “That’s not a crime, remember?”
Sandy had started toward them with the coffee pot but, hearing what was going on, she froze. “Excuse me, but we’re all friends of Amarok’s,” she said. “So I’d be careful what you say about him.”
Laughing softly, the guy came to his feet. “This place is great.”
After he paid his bill and left, Amarok got up to watch him climb into his car. It was a nondescript, white sedan—a rental car.
Sandy came around the counter to stand next to him.
“Have you ever seen that guy before?” Amarok asked her.
“No. Never.”
“Then you don’t know his name.”
“Actually, I do. Said his name was John. He was flirting with me before you came in. Told me he likes brunettes.”
Sandy was only nineteen. “He’s a bit older than you, isn’t he?” Amarok felt a bit hypocritical pointing that out after protesting the age difference between him and Evelyn, but this was a much wider gap.
“By like twenty years!” she said. “He seems to think a girl like me, stuck out in ‘the middle of nowhere,’ as he put it, should be happy to catch the attention of a guy like him.”
“You didn’t accept his offer?”
“No. He’s...I don’t know. Disrespectful. I’m not interested.”
Amarok rested his hands on his hips as “John” paused to wave before pulling out of the lot. “Did he happen to mention his last name?”
“No, but he said if I wanted to have a good time, I could stop by the motel tonight, so that must be where he’s staying.”