“Good information to have,” Amarok said. That meant Margaret Seaver down at The Shady Lady would be able to provide a full name and possibly a home address.
As soon as Amarok arrived at his trooper station, he called Margaret and got the information he wanted. Then he ran it through his computer. If John Hanson was hitting up innocent young girls like Sandy and weighing in on local matters, matters that shouldn’t concern him, Amarok figured it might be worth checking to see if he had any outstanding warrants.
But his record was clean. He didn’t even have any citations.
“Too bad,” Amarok muttered. It would’ve been an absolute pleasure to arrest him.
***
A security guard came out to meet Jasper almost as soon as he parked in the as yet unpaved lot at Hanover House. It hadn’t been hard to find the construction site. When he’d asked what the place looked like, several people had explained how to get to it, and no one seemed to find the fact that he’d be interested odd. Probably because Evelyn’s pet project had received so much outside interest already—from job applicants to activists to journalists. On top of that, almost everyone in town was talking about the prison and the vandalism that had occurred recently, so it was top of mind.
Jasper wondered how Evelyn had taken the news that not everyone here would welcome her with open arms. Had that come as a surprise? Or had she already known she wasn’t a popular figure?
Did she even care?
Yes. The girl he’d known would care. That was what had fascinated him so much. She cared about everything.
“Excuse me, sir!” The guard was almost jogging in his hurry to reach Jasper. “This is a construction site. It’s not yet open to the public. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
The red-nosed man seemed a bit over-zealous about his job. But he was also twitchy, nervous. Or maybe he wasn’t nervous so much as he was a drinker, Jasper decided. That made him an odd choice for a security guard, but Jasper supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by anything he found out here. The people in Alaska did things a little differently—not to mention there weren’t a lot of people in the labor pool to choose from, so maybe whoever had hired him hadn’t had much choice.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to alarm you,” he said. “Is Dr. Talbot around?”
The guard drew himself up short and calmed down when Jasper pretended to have a legitimate reason to be there. “No, sir. I’m afraid she’s not.” He lifted a hand to protect his eyes from the sun. “Was she...was she supposed to meet you here?”
“No. I was just hoping that I might be able to catch her.” He smiled with confidence. He hadn’t expected to encounter a guard, but once he’d seen that someone with a radio had been posted to look out for the development, he couldn’t turn around and leave. That would only make his actions more suspicious.
“She was here earlier,” the man said. “But she’s gone back to her place now. She can’t work without internet service, and there’s nothing like that out here quite yet.”
“Of course not.” He stood back to stare up at the building. “Would you look at this place?” he said and part of him was sincere in his admiration. How had the broken girl, the girl he’d left on the dirt floor of that shack with blood pouring from her neck, managed not only to recover but thrive? To bring such a major project to pass?
“It’s going to be something,” the man agreed.
“It should definitely prove interesting.”
The way the guard hooked his thumbs in his pants and stood in a slouch gave Jasper the impression he no longer felt threatened. “Are you one of the psychologists who’ll be working with Dr. Talbot?”
“No, I’m a writer. I’ve read about this place, think I might like to include a bit about it in a book I’m doing on advancements in the criminal justice world. But I haven’t yet decided if I’d really call this an ‘advancement.’”
The red-nosed man rubbed his face. Then he said, “Because...”
“I’m not quite as convinced as Dr. Talbot is that there’s anything anyone can do to curb a man’s lust for killing.”
The guy blinked in surprise. “Why not?”
“Because everyone’s so different. Generalities cause problems whenever they are applied to humans. What may be true about some psychopaths might not be true about others.”
“I-I wouldn’t know about that,” he said.
Convinced that he’d already established a rapport, Jasper studied him. “What’s your name?”
“Mason Thornton. And you are?”
“John Hanson. From Texas, most recently.”
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” The guard accepted his hand and shook it rigorously. “I’m sure Dr. Talbot will be sorry she missed you.”