Face Off

by Brenda Novak

  “You’re in a relationship?”

  “I am.”

  “That’s surprising. You once told me you’d never marry. Do you remember?”

  “I remember telling almost everyone that, but Amarok has helped me over certain … hurdles, and that makes it more of a possibility.”

  There was a slight pause; then he said, “As jealous and heartbroken as that leaves me, I’m happy for you.”

  “I’m flattered by your interest. I really am. And I’m grateful you’re taking Tim’s case. It might help us find Jasper. We have to find him soon.”

  “That sounds kind of desperate for it having been twenty-plus years. Is there something else I should know?”

  “I’m afraid he might be up here,” she told him.

  “In Alaska? Why do you say that?” He sounded instantly concerned.

  “Finishing what he started with me has always been his end game. And I think he’s getting awfully tired of waiting.” She told him about Sierra Yerbowitz and the piece of scalp that didn’t belong to Sierra.

  “You keep your lawman focused on finding her, and I’ll do what I can here to make sure Jasper doesn’t come back into your life. I like imagining you happy.”

  “Thank you. Again.” The moment she hung up, she put on her coat and boots to take Makita out. She hadn’t dressed for the day yet, but she didn’t care about that. She had no neighbors to see her, and she was more and more worried about Amarok. Surely he’d call her, even if he did stay over somewhere.

  She left the front door open, despite the cold air that would let into the house, so she could hear if the phone rang. She couldn’t risk missing Phil’s call. She was getting so worked up it was beginning to feel as though she had a thousand pounds of sand crushing her chest.

  “Come on, come on,” she muttered as Makita did his business, but she wasn’t talking to the dog. She was exhorting Phil to get back to her.

  She hadn’t heard the phone while she was out, so she tried calling the trooper post when she went in.

  No answer.

  What was going on?

  She was about to jump into her Land Cruiser and drive over when the phone finally rang.

  Caller ID indicated Trooper Post #213. She’d seen that pop up a thousand times before.

  She prayed it was Amarok and not Phil.

  “He’s not there?” she said as soon as she heard Phil’s hello.

  “Take it easy,” he said in a soothing voice. “I’m sure Amarok’s fine. But no, he’s not here, and I’ve called a few people around town—Leland Yerbowitz, who’s staying at The Shady Lady, Shorty over at the Moosehead and old man Boyle at Quigley’s. No one’s seen him.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m heading over to the cabin, since that’s where he was going when I last talked to him.”

  “I’m going with you,” she said.

  “Don’t you have to pick up your sister from the airport today? Amarok asked me to go with you if it’s storming.”

  Fortunately, as forbidding as the sky was beginning to look, it wasn’t storming yet. “I’ve got time,” she said. Brianne wasn’t getting in until three. If the weather held, Evelyn could reach Ted Stevens International Airport in a little over an hour. Even if she was late, Brianne could wait. Amarok’s well-being came first. Evelyn wouldn’t be able to function properly until she was assured of his safety.

  “I’m not convinced that’s a good idea,” he said.

  Phil’s hesitation only added to her concern. Obviously, he was afraid of what they might find. “I’ll drive up there myself, if I have to,” she threatened.

  “If there’s anything wrong, Amarok will have my hide if you’re in the middle of it.”

  “Amarok’s lived with me long enough to know I have a mind of my own, Phil.”

  He still hemmed and hawed, so she put even more force in her voice. “I’m getting my keys. I’ll see you there.”

  “No! No need for us both to drive,” he said quickly. “I’m leaving now to pick you up.”

  She swallowed against the fear that seemed to be clawing its way up her throat. After what she’d seen, how Jasper had mutilated her high school girlfriends and posed them like mannequins, she probably understood far better than Phil did what they could be in for. “I’ll be waiting.”

  16

  Before Evelyn could see the cabin itself, she spotted smoke. At first she thought it was just the gray of the low-lying clouds resting on the horizon. The sun didn’t come up until nine, so it was just growing light, and they were getting a little snow. “What is “that?” she asked, pointing.

  Phil didn’t have a chance to answer before they drove around the final bend in Nektoralik Road—when they could both see the burned-out cabin.

  “No!” she cried. “It can’t be!”

  Phil shot her a nervous glance. She could almost read his mind. I shouldn’t have brought her. He loved Amarok, too. The way his knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel testified to his fear and panic. The whole community relied on the Alaska State Trooper. Amarok was one of their own, had been born and raised in Hilltop, and he did everything he could to take care of the citizens in his community—which was why he’d originally been opposed to Hanover House. He hadn’t wanted an institution that incarcerated so many dangerous men in the area.

  “It’s Jasper.” Any question she’d had about his involvement was now gone. “He’s in Hilltop.”

  “Lightning can start fires, too,” Phil said. But he didn’t sound committed to his answer. There’d been no lightning last night that she knew of—and what were the chances lightning would strike that particular cabin at this particular time? The one in which a woman had recently been kidnapped and probably murdered?

  Evelyn pressed her fists into her eyes. She wouldn’t look anymore, couldn’t look. “He’s killed Amarok, just as I was afraid he would. Amarok’s gone.” The idea that she could ever leave the man she loved to go back to Boston seemed impossible in that moment. She felt as though Jasper had ripped her heart from her chest, that she could barely breathe for the gaping wound. She couldn’t go on—didn’t want to go on—without Amarok. Everything that’d had such meaning suddenly had no meaning at all.

  “Evelyn, look!” Phil leaned over to pull her hands away from her face.

  Tears were welling up. Only after she’d blinked several times did she see Amarok striding out of the woods, coming toward them with his rifle resting on one shoulder.

  They parked next to his truck, and Evelyn nearly fell out into the snow, she was in such a hurry to reach him.

  Phil came around the front, and Amarok handed off his rifle before pulling her into his arms and kissing her head. “It’s okay,” he murmured as she buried her face in his chest. “I’m right here.”

  She struggled to choke back the tears, but her relief was so profound she couldn’t manage it. “Jasper’s back,” she said between gulps for breath. “I know he is.”

  His hand stroked her head. “Yeah. I’d say he’s back. But that isn’t entirely a bad thing.”

  That statement shocked her enough she was able to get hold of her emotions. “Are you kidding? He’ll kill you! He’ll kill both of us.”

  “He tried to kill me last night. Fortunately, he’s not a very good shot. I hit him, though.”

  An unexpected surge of hope caused Evelyn to pull away. “You shot him?”

  Motioning for Phil to join them, he took her through the trees in the direction from which he’d come. After warning them to stay behind him so they wouldn’t destroy any evidence, he pointed at footprints, tire tracks and eventually … several drops of red. “He was bleeding when he left. I would’ve caught him if he hadn’t slashed my tires.”

  “So when did he set fire to the cabin?” she asked.

  “Before the gunfight, but I didn’t notice until after he’d made a run for it.”

  “How’d you know he was here in the first place?”

&
nbsp; “I didn’t. He must’ve come after I did. Once he saw my truck, he slashed my tires and crept up to the cabin. I’m sure he expected me to be inside, but I wasn’t. I was at a smaller shack I found up the mountain, looking for places someone could’ve kept an eye on Sierra Yerbowitz and her party. He must’ve figured out I wasn’t in the cabin, doused the place with gasoline, started the fire and then spotted my flashlight as I came through the trees.”

  “Which is when he shot at you.”

  “Yeah.”

  She looked Amarok over carefully, but he raised one hand. “Don’t worry. He missed, and I returned fire. Once he got hit—I’m assuming that’s what made him decide to take off—he ran here, where he’d left his car, and got the hell out.”

  “If the cabin was burning when he left, where’d you spend the night?” Phil asked.

  “At that shack I was checking out when he arrived. I could’ve stayed in my truck, but I felt too vulnerable there. I wanted to be somewhere I could stand or kneel while keeping watch with my rifle at the ready.”

  “Did you have any dry wood?”

  “A little, but I didn’t dare start a fire for fear I’d give away my position, or that I wouldn’t be able to see as clearly.”

  Judging by the lines around Amarok’s eyes and mouth, he was exhausted. “So you’ve been up all night, freezing?” Evelyn said.

  “I wasn’t about to go to sleep knowing he could come back. I was also worried that the cabin fire might somehow spread through the forest. As wet as it’s been, that wasn’t likely, but it was windy, so I was being cautious.”

  “It didn’t spread, thank God. But it sure got the best of the cabin.” Phil wrinkled his nose. “Stinks like crazy out here.”

  Evelyn wiped away the rest of her tears. “Jasper was trying to destroy any evidence he’d left behind.”

  “That’s my guess, too,” Amarok said. “To be honest, I have no idea why he didn’t burn it to begin with.”

  She peered through the trees to see the charred remains of what had been part of someone’s livelihood and couldn’t help feeling sorry for the Barrymores, two brothers from the Lower 48 who were, according to Amarok, the owners. They’d collect on their fire insurance, but that wasn’t always an easy process and often didn’t cover everything. “Jasper didn’t want us to know he was in Alaska. That’s why he left it in the first place. He was hoping whatever he’d done out here would go unnoticed. But it hasn’t.”

  “The news about that piece of scalp might’ve tipped him off that we know more than he’d like.”

  With a nod, she turned around, searching for any sign of Jasper … or someone else. Fortunately, she didn’t see anyone or anything that might make her believe they were in immediate danger. “This is going to turn into all-out war between us.”

  “I say bring it on.” Once again, Amarok gestured at what he’d brought them to see. “He made a mistake coming back here. Now I have his blood.”

  “You’ve collected it already?” she asked.

  He took a small vial from his pocket. “Yep. Did that last night using my flashlight. I couldn’t risk losing it. There was some on this tree, too, before I pulled off the bark.”

  Evelyn’s heart beat faster. “You’ll be able to test it to confirm his identity.”

  “And I have his tire tracks. I might even manage to get a few footprints.”

  Phil checked the sky. “So are you done? We need to gather what evidence we can before the weather gets any worse.”

  “I’m close. I’ve photographed the tire tracks and the foot impressions. I didn’t have a tripod, which would’ve helped, but I started as soon as there was enough light. I’m about to get a cast of any tracks or footprints I can.”

  “You have the materials to do that?” Evelyn asked.

  He gave her a wry smile. “Sweetheart, since you came to town, I’ve had to equip myself in ways I never had to worry about before. With a few squirts of snow impression wax, I’ll be good to go.”

  “Where are you supposed to find that?” Phil asked.

  “It’s in my truck. I was going to grab it when I heard you pull up.”

  “Even if we get good impressions, it won’t be easy to match them against a perpetrator,” Phil said with a scowl. “We’re searching for a needle in a haystack.”

  “You’ve told me that before, and yet I keep searching.” Amarok winked at Evelyn. “That asshole will never get rid of me, not until I bring him in.”

  * * *

  The throbbing in Jasper’s shoulder woke him. Amarok’s bullet had gone through the fleshy part of his arm. He had both an entrance and an exit wound, so he hadn’t taken the risk of going to a hospital. Anyone who’d been shot would be reported to the authorities. Instead, he’d done what he could to doctor himself. He’d stopped by the drugstore to pick up a few supplies; then he’d bathed in Epsom salts, poured hydrogen peroxide down the hole in his arm and bandaged it. Nothing he’d ever experienced hurt quite so badly. And the damn thing wouldn’t quit bleeding. He’d been up most of the night trying to get it to stop. Even now, the bandage was soaked and leaking blood onto the sheets.

  “Son of a bitch,” he growled when he saw it. He needed to do something. But when he sat up, his head began to swim. He had to bend forward to regain his equilibrium.

  He’d screwed up last night, and Amarok had taken advantage of his miscalculation. But how could he know the night would end like that? He should’ve been able to win a battle where he had the advantage of surprise. Amarok hadn’t even known he was in the area, and Jasper had still gotten his ass kicked.

  That wouldn’t happen again, he vowed. The sergeant would pay for what he’d done, and so would Evelyn.

  Once he could stand, he used the walls to help him reach the bathroom. Who would’ve thought a simple flesh wound could leave him feeling so shitty?

  He’d have to take plenty of pain meds to tolerate work today, he decided as he stared at his own ashen face in the mirror. But he didn’t have anything strong—only over-the-counter stuff—and he had no idea how he’d handle a full shift. What if he bled through his uniform?

  He considered calling in sick. He could say he wasn’t well, that he still felt poorly from when he’d left early on Friday night. But Amarok would expect whoever he’d shot to show the effects of it, so Jasper was going to make sure he seemed perfectly fine. He’d change his bandage every hour, if he had to, and flush the used dressings or shove them in his lunch pail.

  Fresh blood oozed as he peeled away the gauze. He wasn’t supposed to remove it once it was saturated. Every tutorial he’d read online advised him to add more bandages on top of the old one, but he wanted to see if his arm looked as though it was getting infected. He’d also read that infection was his greatest danger. He might need antibiotics.

  Considering how much his shoulder hurt, he thought the hole should be bigger.…

  He turned to look at the back and, once he’d wiped the blood, saw that the exit wound was bigger. Where the bullet had gone in was the size of a dime; where the bullet had come out was more the size of a quarter.

  Bracing for the pain, he poured on more antiseptic, which burned through his arm like fire. He swore, even kicked the wall. Then he struggled to tie fresh gauze around his biceps using only his right hand. He needed to put some pressure on the wound, but not enough to hinder his circulation—not if he ever wanted to use that arm again.

  What would he do if that didn’t work? One website had suggested a hemostatic dressing, which contained clotting agents, but he’d been reluctant to go out and buy something like that. He didn’t want anyone to see him purchasing it, didn’t want to be recorded on some store’s video camera. And what he’d read about those dressings indicated they could be difficult to remove once applied.

  He didn’t need any new problems. He was already worried that the bullet had pushed scraps of clothing inside him. He’d examined his injury carefully and hadn’t seen any sign of debris, but with the constant flow
of blood he couldn’t tell for sure. Hopefully it would flush out whatever debris might be there.

  Once he was finished in the bathroom, he dragged his tired and hurting ass out to the kitchen, where he popped some ibuprofen and sat down to have a bowl of cereal. He didn’t think he’d ever been in such a black mood. He should take off and disappear; that would be the wisest move. But he wasn’t about to give up. He was finished letting Evelyn believe she’d escaped him—and letting Amarok believe he could protect her.

  He turned to look at the clock. He didn’t have to be at Hanover House until ten tonight.

  Hoping to distract himself until the pain eased and he could sleep again, he went into the living room and turned on the TV, watched an episode of Forensic Files and managed to doze off.

  When he woke up, the news was on. He listened for a while, grew bored with the politics and other bullshit and closed his eyes in an attempt to get some more rest. But then he heard a snippet that made him sit bolt upright.

  A newscaster was saying that two bodies had been discovered in the woods northwest of Anchorage. He saw the TV cut to an “on the scene” reporter and watched as the cameraman filming that reporter panned wide.

  Shit. Although the reporter said the police hadn’t yet identified the bodies, Jasper knew they soon would.

  * * *

  Other than getting a new short and sassy haircut and possibly losing a few pounds—not that she’d ever been heavy—Brianne hadn’t changed in the past two years. Her best features were still her flawless skin and her large, dark eyes. Evelyn was relieved when she and Amarok, who’d slept while she drove, arrived at the airport in time to pick up her sister without making her wait.

  A wave of homesickness and guilt for not returning to Boston to visit her folks washed over Evelyn as they embraced. “How was your flight?”

  “Long.” Brianne smiled, but her smile seemed forced. Although Evelyn noticed, she didn’t mention it. She and her sister would have several days together, plenty of time to talk once they’d settled into their old relationship. Brianne had spoken to Amarok occasionally on the phone, but this was the first time they’d met in person. Evelyn preferred to focus on that. “This is Amarok,” she said. “I’m so excited that I finally have the chance to introduce you.”