Between Anchorage and Fairbanks, AK—Thursday, 2:33 a.m. AKDT
The metallic taste of blood filled Evelyn’s mouth.
She’d dropped the hammer and stopped fighting a split second after Bishop waved a gun in her face, screaming he’d shoot her if she didn’t shut up and hold still. But he was so upset that she’d stabbed him, so enraged that she would try to escape after all he’d done so that they could be together, as he put it, he lost control. Retying her hands and feet wasn’t enough. He’d slapped her several times with his left hand before using the gun in his right to strike a much more savage blow, which was why she had blood running from her nose and her mouth.
He was bleeding, too, even though she hadn’t been able to stab him very deeply. His shirt was soaked, and the red stain on his pants was growing ever larger. She could see it easily now that it was getting light.
“If I can’t fix this—if I have to risk capture by going to a hospital, I’m going to kill you before I leave!” he gasped, yanking up his shirt to take a look at his own injury. “I would’ve been so good to you. But you won’t meet me halfway.”
Seeing the gaping wound in his soft, white belly made him flinch.
He fixated on it while Evelyn struggled to regain some of her faculties. Whatever drug he’d slipped her last night with dinner had worn off, but her head was still swimming from the aftereffects, what she’d witnessed with Edna, the lack of sleep and the beating.
“You were … trying to … rape me,” she pointed out, speaking despite her swollen lip. She hoped appealing to logic would get him to see reason, help him to calm down. No matter what, he was far more educated than most of the psychopaths she’d studied. He had to understand what had provoked her, didn’t he?
“No. I wasn’t raping you,” he snarled. “I was making love to you. You’ll soon learn that there’s a difference.”
So that was how he rationalized it. She almost said so out loud but caught herself just in time. She didn’t dare provoke him any further.
“What do you have to say to that, smarty-pants?” he demanded.
Apparently, he could tell she had a comeback on the tip of her tongue.
“You’re not so clever,” he spat when she remained silent.
As intelligent as he was, he sounded like he was no more than eight years old. But she’d seen that type of thing so often in her studies—grown men and women arrested at an early stage of development because of severe emotional trauma. By being abandoned by his mother, who chose her new husband over her children, Bishop had endured something that would be incredibly hurtful. He’d been left at the mall, of all places, with Beth, who’d been only ten at the time. And when they finally managed to get home via a city bus? They’d found the house empty, completely cleaned out. His mother had left not only the city but also the state, without giving them any way to find her.
It was no excuse for what he’d become, of course. A lot of people endured abandonment and abuse without becoming serial killers. But given his mother was one of his first victims, Evelyn felt safe in assuming his childhood had, indeed, warped his brain. Without what he’d been through, maybe he wouldn’t have become what he was.
“Aren’t you going to promise me that you’ll behave from here on out? That you won’t try to escape?” he taunted. “Well, don’t bother. Now I know you’re a liar, just like my mother. You don’t know how to love anyone. I can’t trust you.”
Evelyn searched for words she could use to placate him. She’d made him no promises; any promise he remembered was a figment of his imagination. But he seemed to rewrite the script however he wanted it to go.
Still, she had to do something to buy time, didn’t she? She had no more energy, no more strength with which to fight.
What was the point of continuing to fight, anyway? She’d already given it her best. What good would another hour or two do? Amarok wouldn’t be able to find her that soon. They were out in the middle of nowhere, and Bishop was going to give her a transorbital lobotomy before they got back on the road.
Part of her wanted to take a bullet instead of allowing him to cut into her brain—except the sudden thought that, no matter what happened to her, by some miracle her baby might survive and be rescued one day, if only she stuck around long enough to finish carrying it, kept her from getting too reckless.
She could choose death over the life she’d have with Bishop for herself, but she couldn’t make that choice for her child.
She struggled to speak despite a hoarse throat that hurt when she tried to talk. “Just … get it over with. Maybe if I don’t have my brain, I won’t want to puke every time you touch me.”
He blinked, obviously shocked by the vitriol in her words. “You’re vile! The worst kind of whore!” he cried, and disappeared for several seconds.
Evelyn closed her eyes as she heard him rummaging in the glove compartment. She wanted her last thought to be of Amarok, to be the memory of the love and fulfillment he’d provided.
As Bishop returned with the ice pick, she wished she could touch her belly, try to reassure her unborn child in some small way. Or say good-bye. “Will you promise me one thing?” she asked dully.
Taken aback by the calm in her voice, he hesitated. “What?”
“If I don’t make it, will you try to save my child?”
He scowled at her. “Of course. I want it to live, too,” he replied gruffly.
The van swayed as he climbed inside, and the terror Evelyn thought she’d vanquished rose inside her again. “Aren’t you going to knock me out?”
“With what? The hammer you tried to use on me? That could do even more damage—damage I can’t control as well.”
“What did you give me before?”
“Some sleeping pills I took from Beacon Point—the ones they gave me every night. But they will take too long to kick in. I only need a few minutes.” He straddled her, taking care to sit on her chest and not on the baby, as if he were doing her a big favor by having that much consideration.
She considered bucking him off. But he’d only begin to beat her again, and if he got too vicious she wouldn’t survive. That meant the baby wouldn’t, either.
Tears ran into the hair at her temples as she saw the sharp point of the ice pick coming toward her. And, even though she told herself not to, she couldn’t help screaming.
Between Anchorage and Fairbanks, AK—Thursday, 2:43 a.m. AKDT
Amarok didn’t have time to plan anything that might draw Bishop away from the van or help him recover Evelyn without a dangerous confrontation. He’d barely reached the area where the van was parked when he saw Bishop get into the back of it and heard Evelyn cry out.
Was he raping her? Killing her? Hurting their baby?
Making a motion with his hand, he let Makita know to stay back.
The dog obeyed as Amarok rushed from the trees he’d been using to cover his approach. He didn’t have much of a plan. There wasn’t time to set up anything. He could only bang on the side of the vehicle to startle Bishop and, hopefully, draw his attention away from Evelyn.
“Come out with your hands up!” he yelled, his rifle raised to his shoulder as he edged around so that he could see inside the open doors in back.
Sure enough, Evelyn was there. Alive but tied up and bleeding.
Bishop fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her up and in front of him as he moved to the back bumper. “You come any closer, I’ll blow her brains out,” he warned, holding a gun to her head with his other hand.
Amarok’s eyes narrowed until all he could see was his target. Could he shoot Bishop before Bishop could pull the trigger?
He was tempted to try. He was desperate to reach Evelyn, to put her out of danger. She looked crazed with fright. Blood ran from her right eye, her nose and her mouth.
“It’s all over,” he said to Bishop. “Even if you shoot her, you won’t get away from here, so there’s no point.”
“Making sure you can’t have her, that she gets what’s coming to her, is all the point I need,” he responded. “She destroyed my life, took away everything I cared about. Now put down the rifle. If you’re lucky, I’ll just shoot you and take off with her.”
Could he pick Bishop off?
No. Bishop was prepared for that, was using Evelyn as a shield. And even if he weren’t behind her, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t fire simultaneously.
Amarok couldn’t take the risk.
“I won’t ask again,” Bishop threatened.
Amarok’s mind raced as he slowly lowered his weapon to the ground.
“No!” Evelyn cried as Bishop turned his gun on Amarok instead. But Amarok hadn’t left himself completely defenseless. He’d just had to be sure that Bishop wouldn’t squeeze the trigger while that gun was aimed at Evelyn.
With a quick whistle Amarok called his dog, and Makita came leaping out of the trees. His growl was deep and threatening and the blur of his coat caught Bishop’s attention, startling him.
Bishop reared back—and fired. Amarok felt a burning sensation in his shoulder as the sharp crack echoed through the forest, but Bishop wasn’t going to get the chance to fire again. Makita had already dragged him out of the van and had ahold of his arm as they rolled around in the dirt.
Trained never to let go, the malamute had clamped on for all he was worth.
Dropping the gun since he could no longer hold it, Bishop screamed as Amarok gave Makita another command. Then the dog did let go of his arm—and lunged for his throat.
“That’s it,” Amarok said, encouraging Makita as he managed to retrieve his rifle and drag it over to the van.
“Call him off!” Bishop whimpered. “Please, he’s going to kill me. Call him off!”
Amarok whistled to get Makita to stand down. But the second the dog pulled back, Bishop reached for the gun that had fallen out of the van when he did.
No.…
Putting the muzzle of his rifle right over the place where Bishop’s heart would be, if he had one, Amarok grimaced against the agonizing pain in his shoulder and somehow managed to pull the trigger.
Between Anchorage and Fairbanks, AK—Thursday, 2:47 a.m. AKDT
Evelyn couldn’t believe it was over. Amarok had appeared out of nowhere and put a stop to everything. Bishop had barely scratched her eyelid with the ice pick, and that was because he’d jerked when he heard Amarok hit the side of the van. He hadn’t had time to push it through the thin bone of her eye socket to reach her brain.
She was fine, would recover. She just didn’t know if she could say the same about her baby. She couldn’t feel any movement. Not a kick or a jab. Not so much as a flutter. The trauma she’d been through might’ve been too much for their child.
“Are you okay?” Amarok used his good hand to untie her.
She glanced over at Bishop, who was lying on his side, staring sightlessly under the vehicle.
“Don’t look at him,” Amarok said. “Look at me.”
She couldn’t hold back the tears as the ropes on her hands and feet came loose. She told herself there was no reason to cry, but she couldn’t help it. Her relief was that profound. “How’d you find me?” she asked, wiping the blood from her nose and mouth.
He didn’t take the time to explain, just reached out to draw her closer.
She leaned against his chest, painfully aware that he’d been shot, grateful for the strong hand that cupped the back of her head as she broke down and wept.
“What’d he do to you?” he asked at length.
“I’ll tell you everything,” she said. “But not now. We need to get you to a hospital.”
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted, but she got the impression he couldn’t move his right arm anymore, and it looked as though he was about to pass out.
“Where’s your truck?”
Letting go of her, he sank onto the bumper of the van and put his head between his knees. “A quarter of a mile down the road. Give me a minute. I can’t walk that far quite yet.” He drew a deep, audible breath. “I can’t believe you’re safe. I can’t believe I’ve got you back.”
When his eyes lifted to her swollen belly, she understood what he wanted to know but was afraid to ask. “I can’t tell you anything about the baby,” she said. “Only that Bishop didn’t manage to rape me, or … or even hurt me.”
“But…”
Apparently, he could hear the hesitation in her voice. “But I haven’t felt any movement for the past couple of days. Bishop drugged me to get me out of the cooler and into this van, though. I’m not sure what effect that might’ve had on the baby.”
“We’ll get you to a doctor,” he said more matter-of-factly, and she knew then that he was trying to be stoic, to hide his worry and concern for her benefit.
“Okay, but we’re going to get you to a doctor first. We’ll drive this bucket of bolts to your truck and come back for it and Bishop later.”
“Two for the road,” he joked. “Let’s do it.”
She felt Makita’s wet nose on her hand and took a moment to scratch him behind the ears. “You mean three. We wouldn’t be alive to tell the tale without Makita.”
Amarok whistled and his dog jumped into the back of the van with him. Evelyn saw Makita licking his face as he leaned back to rest against the interior wall.
With a smile, she closed the doors. Then she got behind the wheel and, taking care to avoid hitting Bishop’s body on the way out, drove them to the truck and then on to Anchorage.
Hilltop, AK—Friday, 4:30 p.m. AKDT
Evelyn could feel the soft skin and hard sinew of Amarok’s naked body pressed up against her own and refused to open her eyes. They’d spent all day yesterday at the hospital, getting patched up and reassuring their friends and families, so she was enjoying being at home with him, alone.
She didn’t want to stir for fear it would wake him and he’d get up. It wasn’t like him to lie around, not in the middle of the day. If he wasn’t working, he generally had some project going. It was bad enough that Phil had been calling every few hours to report various things—that the Fairbanks Police Department had not only found Bishop’s body and sent it to the medical examiner’s office, they’d also impounded his van. That the corpse Amarok discovered at the egg ranch was, in fact, Emmett Virtanen. That Edna Southwick was going to pull through. And that her daughter had called to say she was relieved Evelyn was safe, too.
Evelyn had no idea how long it might be before they heard from Phil or someone else again and planned to relish these quiet few minutes.
“Hey,” he murmured, kissing her head.
Apparently, she didn’t have to worry about waking him. He was already awake and had been able to notice the subtle difference in her breathing or something else to alert him that she was, too. “Hey.”
“You feeling okay?”
“Yeah. But I’m not ready to move quite yet.”
“Me either. I like this too much.”
“How’s your arm?”
“Beginning to throb. I should take another pain pill.”
“Oh no! Here I was scheming to keep you in bed with me for as long as possible and you need something.” She started to roll away from him so she could get it, but he stopped her.
“Don’t leave just yet. It’s not too bad. I can tolerate a few more minutes.”
He shifted onto his back, though, and brought her against him with his good arm.
“Being home is like a dream. I never thought I’d see this place again, ever be with you again,” she said.
“Mmm.” He let his eyes drift closed. “I wouldn’t have let that happen. I would’ve chased Bishop to the ends of the earth, if possible.”
“You did. Isn’t Fairbanks pretty close to one end of the earth?”
“It’s getting there, I guess.”
She could hear the smile in his voice as his fingers combed through her hair.
“Are we still getting married?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t we?”
He sobered. “Because of everything you’ve been through. Maybe you need more time.”
“If we wait any longer, the baby will be here.”
They’d performed an ultrasound at the hospital yesterday, and her doctor had told her the baby looked fine. They wouldn’t know for sure, of course, until she was born, but their little girl seemed to have weathered the ordeal better than Evelyn had. “We could put it off for six months or another year.”
“Do you want to wait?” she asked in surprise.
“I’ve never wanted to wait,” he replied. “I’m trying to think of you.”
She lifted up on her elbows to look down into his face. “Then we’re not changing anything, because I want to marry you now more than ever.”
His lips curved into a smile as she lowered her head to kiss him, but then the phone interrupted.
So that he wouldn’t have to move any more than necessary, she got it off the nightstand and, assuming it would be Phil again, handed it to him.
“Hello?” she heard him say. “Lewis … Yeah.… What’s up?… No kidding … I believe it.… I always thought that was the case.… Good thing she finally came clean…”
He and the detective from Minnesota—Evelyn recognized the name—chatted for a few minutes more and then Amarok hung up.
“What’d Lewis have to say?” she asked.
“Terry’s wife was the one who called you, pretending to be my mother.”
“She admitted it?”
“Lewis said once she found out that Bishop had killed her brother, she broke down and told him everything. I guess she and Emmett planned to double-cross Terry.”
“In what way?”
“She planned to take his share of the money so she could leave him.”
“He might’ve had something to say about that.”
“I doubt it. Not with Emmett on her side.”
Evelyn was glad they had closure on who’d called as Alistair, but she bit her lip as she replayed in her mind a different part of what Amarok had just said: Once she found out that Bishop had killed her brother, she broke down and told him everything.
“What is it?” Amarok asked, noticing her sudden reticence.
She sat up, pulling the sheet with her. “I have something to tell you.”
His face registered concern. “There’s something else?”
She tucked her hair behind her ears as she nodded.
Wincing, he managed to sit up, too. “What is it?”
“Bishop didn’t kill Emmett.”
“How do you know?” he asked.
She drew a deep breath. “Because I did.”
His eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
“How?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too upsetting. But … do you think I should let the police know? Does it matter if I killed Emmett or Bishop did?”
He studied her for several seconds. Then he reached up to caress her cheek. “No.”
She caught his hand, holding it in place. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive,” he replied. “You did only what you had to do. And no one else needs to hear about it.”
She struggled to swallow the lump that rose in her throat. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said. “We’re going to recover from this just like we’ve recovered from everything else. I promise.”
She sniffed and wiped her cheeks. “I know.”