“All right. I won’t ask again,” he said. “So, will you be visiting Anchorage any time soon?”
Amarok rubbed his forehead. His father seemed happier than he’d ever been. His seafood exporting business had been picking up, and Joanne treated him a great deal better than his first wife. Amarok was grateful for that, didn’t want to ruin it. “I’ll come this weekend or the next.”
“Great. Let us know what day you pick. We’ll make you a nice dinner.”
“Thanks,” he said. Then he told his father he had to go, that he had to be up early and took Makita outside before heading to bed.
***
Evelyn felt uneasy. She wasn’t sure why. She supposed she was still getting used to her new home. She was also beginning to regret building where she had. While the other doctors on her team had chosen to live close together, in a small, rather exclusive enclave north of town, she’d come out this way to take advantage of the view. She’d also wanted some space, the ability to break away from those she worked with, at least at night. But the only neighbor she’d met so far had a mentally handicapped son who stared at her whenever she drove by, without blinking or waving or responding in any way. And that gave her chills, even though she knew it was just her background coming into play. She saw danger lurking around every corner. The mayor and several other people had told her that Kit was harmless and, when she was thinking clearly, she believed it.
Determined not to succumb to the fear that could so easily creep into her consciousness, she tore her gaze away from the darkness behind the edges of the blind that covered her office window and continued to pore over the file she’d been reading on a man by the name of Cary Wolff. Like Jasper, Cary had started killing when he was only in his teens. Unlike Jasper, Cary had been caught and was currently in a Colorado maximum-security prison.
She wanted to add him to the roster for Hanover House, but that meant she’d have to forego another inmate she’d already put on the list. She was just trying to decide which one to replace when a noise from outside brought her head up. It sounded like a vehicle had pulled into her drive, and yet, when she went out into the living room and parted the drapes to look out, she didn’t see anyone.
Feeling even more anxious, she dug her cell out of her purse and stared at the “no service” message at the top. She hated that she couldn’t use her smartphone in Hilltop. She’d come to rely on it for almost everything, from email to directions to listening to music to reading and watching movies.
At least she had a land line, she told herself. It wasn’t as if she was completely cut off.
“Why did the government have to pick Alaska?” she mumbled and was about to head back to her study when she spotted a pair of headlights. She might not have thought anything about a car being in the area—she did have a few neighbors—but they were down the street to her right, not her left. Her street turned into a dirt road that led up into the mountains about a mile after her place. Why would anyone be up that direction so late at night?
And it was odd the way they were angling their car, because it made the lights shine right on her house.
Could it be a couple of kids, making out? She could see someone parking on the hill to enjoy the few scattered lights of Hilltop below. But why would they park in such a strange fashion—and why wouldn’t they turn off their lights?
Once again, she wished she’d brought her gun, knew she’d feel safer if she had it. But she’d been in too much of a hurry. When she traveled with it, she had to disclose that she had one even though she always checked it with her baggage, and that extended the time it took to get through security, because they had to search her bag to make sure it was in a locked case and that she’d conformed to their other rules and regulations.
For this trip, she hadn’t been planning to be gone long, had figured the chances of anything happening to her while she was here had to be minimal. None of the psychopaths she was bringing to town had been moved yet, and Hilltop hadn’t had a murder or anything like it in years.
Now she felt as if letting those practical concerns overcome her usual caution had been a mistake, however. Staring back at those headlights gave her the creeps. What was that person—or people—doing? Why were they there?
She thought of Amarok, wanted to call him. She’d wanted to call him all night, but now she felt as if she might be justified. Like she’d told her mother, it was better to be safe and wrong than not safe and sorry.
After staring at those headlights for another several seconds, during which that vehicle didn’t move, she hurried over to her phone.
But when she lifted the receiver, she couldn’t get a dial tone.