by Brenda Novak
“A conversation, yes.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And you hope to establish … what?”
Evelyn folded her hands in front of her. She didn’t admire any of her subjects. Almost all of them had committed heinous crimes. But she felt the most contempt for those who harmed children. “First and foremost, I’d like to determine if you’ve assumed personal responsibility for your crimes, and I want to do that because it’ll tell me a great deal about you as an individual.”
Mary obviously sensed a trap but seemed unsure how to avoid it. “I pleaded not guilty.”
“Is that the stance you’re taking today? Are you telling me you’re innocent?”
She thought for a second, smiled faintly and nodded. “Yes.”
“Despite all the evidence to the contrary.”
“I don’t care about the evidence.”
“You can’t just wipe it away. The number of babies who fell ill at the hospital in Milwaukee during the night shift when you were working is a staggering five hundred percent greater than at any other time.” Evelyn pulled out the chart displaying this information and turned it so that Mary could see it, too. They weren’t sure exactly how she was making the babies sick, but once she was caught and they looked back they found some astonishing statistics. “The spike in respiratory failure cases in the neonatal ward correlates exactly with when you started at the hospital and ends when you left.” Evelyn pointed at the spot where the graph evened out. “This part here shows where the emergencies go down to a normal level. That’s when you were fired.”
Mary Harpe shrugged, seemingly unconcerned with the lives she’d taken and the heartbreak she’d caused. “I worked at a hospital. Emergencies happen.”
“Then maybe we should talk about what went on after you moved to Richmond, Utah, and started working in Dr. Ivy Maxwell’s pediatric practice.”
“The hospital gave me a good recommendation!”
Or she wouldn’t have been able to get on with Dr. Maxwell. But those at the hospital hadn’t truly believed she was a good nurse; they’d simply been eager to get rid of her. That was probably one of the saddest aspects to this case. “I feel like whoever gave you that recommendation should be sitting in here beside you, facing several years in prison himself or herself. Because, according to what I’ve read, the ambulance was called to Dr. Maxwell’s practice seven times in the first month.”
Mary studied her nails. “Is there a point to all this? Because we’re wasting time.”
“You don’t want to talk about it.”
“No.”
“Do you feel any remorse at all? Two of the babies to whom you administered the succinylcholine couldn’t be resuscitated. They’re dead, their families devastated.”
Nothing. It was like staring at a blank slate.
“It says here that your own daughter, who’s eighteen now, was admitted for respiratory failure on three different occasions when she was an infant.” Evelyn held up the file. “And mysteriously—or not so mysteriously now, I guess—her respiratory problems disappeared the minute she went to live with her father.”
“I wasn’t convicted of that,” Mary said with a glower. “I wasn’t even charged.”
“But how do you explain what happened?”
Another shrug. “The air’s better in Arizona.”
Despite all the psychopaths she’d met with, who’d made similar jokes, Evelyn had to marvel at Mary’s callous disregard for those she’d harmed. “Do you ever think about why you did what you did? Do you ever consider what drove you to harm those innocent babies?”
Again, no response.
“Did Dr. Maxwell mistreat you? Did you dislike her?”
“She thought she knew everything,” she grumbled.
Evelyn slid her chair forward. “So you did dislike her.”
“Not really.”
“And yet you destroyed her practice and caused the community where she’d just opened it to revile and distrust her, all of which put such a strain on her marriage that she’s now going through a divorce.”
“You’re worried about her? At least she’s out there, living her life.” She gestured to indicate beyond the walls of the prison. “She can start over, find a new man. Why don’t we talk about what happened to me?”
Evelyn nearly laughed. This kind of extreme narcissism, paired with a lack of remorse, was so common among psychopaths. She’d never forget reading a statement from Diane Downs, a woman who shot her own children because she believed the married man she was having an affair with didn’t want the encumbrance. Instead of feeling any empathy for them, any remorse for what she’d done to them, she complained about the pain she’d endured because of her own gunshot wound, which she’d inflicted to make the whole thing look as though there’d been an attack.
“Yes, why don’t we talk about what’s really important,” Evelyn said, but she had difficulty listening after that. Brianne’s statement in the car yesterday kept echoing over and over in her mind. Whatever you’re doing doesn’t seem to be working.
Was she wasting her time here? Letting her family down by stubbornly resisting their entreaties to come home? Putting the people in this small, simple town at risk because of her determination to understand the kind of person who’d victimized her in the past?
Was she really doing good—or was she being selfish?
Somehow, Evelyn managed to finish that interview and get through the rest of the day, but it wasn’t easy. For every two steps forward, she seemed to take as many back. And that had never been more apparent than when she caught a ride home with a colleague and found another typed note on the windshield of her car, which was parked in the drive.
Can’t you see what you’re doing? You don’t belong in Alaska. Go back to Boston. No one wants you here.
She couldn’t help wincing. She’d become friends with so many of the locals, had begun to feel at home here with Amarok.…
She glanced around, wondering who might’ve left it.
She saw nothing. Nobody. Shoving it in her purse, she made her way up the walk. She didn’t want Brianne to know about it, didn’t want to add any more fuel to her argument that she should return to Boston. But once they started to talk, she realized Brianne didn’t need additional fuel for that argument.
She had plenty.
* * *
Jasper couldn’t believe it. Just when he’d thought everything was ruined, that he’d never get to use the “playground” he’d put in his basement, he’d had the good fortune of stumbling across Evelyn’s little sister. And she hadn’t recognized him! He hadn’t expected her to, of course. Not only did he look entirely different than he had more than two decades ago, he also hadn’t spent a lot of time with her back then.
Still, he always experienced a certain amount of anxiety when he came into contact with someone he knew from before. Had he approached Evelyn as anything other than a prison guard at her own facility, she might’ve taken a closer look at him or felt a vague sense of recognition. Maybe she would have, anyway, except he’d “saved her life.” Until that moment, he’d been just another CO. Getting hired at the prison was such a bold move no one would’ve expected it, including the great psychiatrist herself. And that put her at a real disadvantage. Even if there were odd moments when she thought she recognized him from somewhere, she’d never suspect he was Jasper, never realize how dangerous he was. He’d proven that.
And now luck had smiled on him again.
Although his arm still ached like hell, he whistled the song that’d been on his radio as he let himself into his house. He’d run out of painkillers while he was on duty, had to take the risk of buying more at the Quick Stop just so he could manage to drive home. But anyone could have a headache. Miraculously, he’d acted normal throughout his shift; he doubted anyone could say he might’ve taken a bullet. And now he had all day to recover before reporting back to the prison tonight. As long as his wound didn’t get infected, he’d overcome his recent setbacks and tha
t would leave him free to make the next move.
He carried the bottle of Tylenol Extra Strength into the house, removed his uniform and crawled into bed. He wanted Brianne to call, wanted to spend time with her. He thought it would be funny to strike up a romantic relationship with her, if he could. But he was in no shape to take her out right now, even if she did call. He needed sleep.
He’d give her a few days, and if he didn’t hear from her he’d hang around town, hoping to run into her again.
20
“You’re “pregnant?” Evelyn wouldn’t have been so distraught at this news except that Brianne had just told her Jeff had found someone else. The wedding was off, exactly as Amarok had suspected.
Brianne tucked her feet beneath her on the couch as she cradled a glass of water in her lap. Evelyn had offered her some Salmonberry Wine, had pressed her when she refused—Brianne loved wine. That was when, instead of continuing to turn it down, Brianne had finally said she couldn’t drink. “Pregnant and on my own,” she added wryly.
“But … is there any chance you and Jeff will get back together? You—you were so much in love.”
Her lips curved into a bitter smile. “I still love him. Problem is, he doesn’t love me. He’s already with someone else, someone he started seeing while we were together.”
Evelyn set her glass on the coffee table. “You mean he cheated on you?”
“Claims he didn’t. She’s a new hire at his firm. A paralegal the partners assigned to him. From what he told me, he felt a spark from the beginning. He broke off our relationship so he could ‘pursue’ what he was feeling for her.”
“But you were planning to get married! You’ve been planning the wedding for months!”
She laughed without mirth. “Good thing he bailed now. If she’d started at the firm any later, we would’ve gone through with it all, and then I’d be looking at a divorce.”
Evelyn scooted closer. “Brianne, I’m so sorry! Why didn’t you tell me this was happening?”
Brianne stared down at her own lap. “Because I haven’t been able to talk about it. This was such a sudden reversal and so painful that I closed up and tried to cope the best I could. I didn’t feel I could say anything to Mom, and it always seems like you’re going through enough out here.”
“So Mom and Dad don’t know.…”
“Not yet.”
Every conversation Evelyn had with Lara these days revolved around the wedding. She’d be as devastated as Brianne. “When will you tell them?”
“Haven’t decided for sure, probably when I get home. At first I thought Jeff just had the jitters about making a lifelong commitment and that he’d come back to me when he realized how much he missed me.” Brianne pulled the tie from her hair, then put it back up. “Most spurned lovers probably tell themselves that kind of nonsense. But when I found out I was pregnant—”
“Exactly when was that?” Evelyn broke in.
“Ten days ago. I’m two months, due in April.”
“You’ve known that long and didn’t reach out to me?”
“I was working up to it. But then Amarok called and told me you had a missing person out here, and I decided I should wait until that was resolved.”
Evelyn studied her sister, searching for signs to indicate how hard she was taking this turn of events. “Does Jeff know about the baby?”
“I told him as soon as I heard the news.”
“And…”
Her chest lifted as if the memory stung. “He asked me to get an abortion.”
Evelyn’s heart sank. “That must’ve been devastating.”
She cleared her throat. “Let’s just say that’s when I understood he wasn’t coming back.”
“Ouch.”
“No kidding.”
“He’ll help out financially, though…”
“Of course. He’ll have no choice.”
Still … “I feel terrible for you, Bri.”
“I’ll be fine. Let’s not get maudlin about it.” She laughed, but trying to deny the pain only made her eyes fill with tears. “Worse things have happened, right?” She wiped her cheeks with irritation. “It’s a blessing I’m not marrying someone who wouldn’t be satisfied with me. And I’m in my thirties. If I’m ever going to have a child, why not do it now? I just … I don’t know how I’ll handle motherhood while I’m putting in the hours I do at the hospital. Then there’s Mom, of course.”
Evelyn straightened her spine. “I thought you hadn’t told Mom.”
Her sister’s eyebrows drew together. “I haven’t. I’m afraid to. Her anxiety and depression are getting worse, not better, Evelyn.”
“Is she taking her meds?”
“Dad says she is, but they don’t seem to be helping.”
“Then she needs to try something else.”
“What else? You’re the psychiatrist, and yet I’m the one who’s dealing with her on a day-to-day basis!”
The resentment her sister felt had finally come to the surface. “You’re tired of handling Mom and Dad on your own.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I’ve tried to be patient and supportive. For most of my life I’ve deferred to what would be best for you. What you went through was terrible, unspeakable. It’s amazing you recovered and did everything you’ve done. But I don’t know when it’s my turn for a little help and understanding, Evelyn. Do I even get a turn?”
“Of course you do! I’ve only committed to five years here in Alaska, have three left, and then—”
“And then what?” she broke in. “You sign on for another five years? What happens if we need you? Does it matter? Can you pull away from this place, or are you so fascinated by your work here that you won’t give it up, no matter what? And what’s the point in what you’re doing? Do you ever ask yourself that anymore? Do you really feel you’ve made a difference? That you can figure out a way to rehabilitate psychopaths when no one else has been able to make a dent in the problem? From what I can tell, building Hanover House, especially here, has done more harm than good.”
Evelyn felt as if Brianne had slapped her. There was so much she could say, so many arguments she could make. Just because no one had figured out how to solve the problem yet didn’t mean she should give up and walk away. If she and the other researchers took such a defeatist attitude, how would society ever minimize the pain and suffering caused by psychopaths?
But she’d said all of that before. And it was the last thing she’d heard that cut the deepest. “I didn’t get to choose where they put Hanover House. The site committee did that.”
“You wanted it so badly, I don’t think you cared where they put it—or whether it would be good for the community that had to accept it. You were willing to travel to the ends of the earth, so long as you could get your precious research facility. You’ve proven that. Here you are. You have what you wanted, and yet all I ever hear about is crisis after crisis.”
“You don’t see any value in what I’m trying to do?”
“I know you mean well, but I don’t understand why it has to be you.”
“Jasper kills wherever he goes, Bri! And he’ll keep on killing until someone stops him. His obsession with me might mean he’ll kill people in Alaska instead of Arizona, but one way or the other, he causes suffering. That’s what he does. That’s what he delights in doing!”
“Do you really want him killing here?”
She didn’t want him killing anywhere. “That’s not the point.”
“If that doesn’t matter, what does?”
“I’ve only been in Hilltop for a couple of years. It’s too early to know if what I’m doing will achieve the results I hope it will.” She wanted to tell Brianne about all the studies they had going, what they might learn from them, and beg for more time. But her sister was no longer in the kind of situation where she could be supportive.
“Look, I don’t mean to be a bitch,” Brianne said, lowering her voice. “It’s just … family should mean something. I’m not the o
nly one who has a responsibility to Mom and Dad.” Her voice grew plaintive. “They need you. I need you. Will you come home, at least for the next year, and help out while I try to get through this pregnancy and the first few months of my child’s life?”
A crushing weight settled on Evelyn’s shoulders. She wasn’t ready to leave what she’d created, wasn’t willing to leave the man she loved, either. She’d never forget how devastated she’d been when she thought he might be dead as they approached the smoldering cabin. “What about Amarok?”
“He can come, too.”
“He won’t leave Hilltop. He’s an important member of this community. They rely on him. What would he do in Boston?”
“He’s young, smart. He could figure something out. You never planned on staying here indefinitely, did you? If you’re going to come back, why not do it now? It’s not as though everything you’ve done here will be for nothing. Hanover House is up and running. It could continue to run without you.”
Evelyn thought of the notes she’d found under the windshield wiper of her SUV. She’d put Hilltop on the map, made it a focal point for the wrong kind of people. But if she left, Jasper would have no reason to come to Hilltop, or stay if he was already here, and Amarok and all the others she’d come to know in this place would be safe. Surely Boston, with its large police force and forensic specialists, would be better equipped to handle the kind of murder investigation Amarok was trying to manage on his own. The best alternative would be to draw Jasper away.
Even if Amarok caught Jasper, as the years continued various inmates would be released. What if they became fixated on her, on another member of the mental health team or on one of the COs and came back as Bishop had?
She could never rule that out entirely.
Regardless, how could she leave Hanover House? Leave Amarok?
She had no idea what to do, had never felt so torn. “I’ll think about it,” she said.
They attempted to talk about other things, but that part of the conversation had cast a pall over the entire evening. Claiming she was tired, Evelyn went to bed not long after, and once Amarok came home and crawled in with her she pretended she was asleep because she didn’t want him to ask how things had gone with Brianne.