“You’ve experienced that.” He toyed with a strand of her hair. “What I don’t understand is why some psychopaths murder and maim and others don’t. You’ve told me plenty of psychopaths are doctors, policemen, lawyers, businessmen and politicians. How is it that so many of them function normally?”
They’d talked about this before. But it remained a sub ject they rehashed occasionally, since there wasn’t any “absolute” answer. “As far as we can determine, it’s simply because everyone’s different. People have different joys, different goals, different tastes, different inhibitors, different talents. The same holds true for psychopaths. One might delight in killing. The next might need to be top dog at his firm and will do anything, step on anyone, to get there. For the next one, sponging off the people around him makes him happy enough. That’s why it’s so hard to come to any kind of consensus on how to detect psychopaths, how to treat them—even how to define them. There are so many variables.”
Amarok got up, went to the kitchen and uncorked some wine. “Would you like some?” he asked, holding up the bottle.
“Sure.”
She watched as he poured two glasses and carried them to the couch.
“You’ve met some of the inmates at Hanover House,” she said as he handed her one. “Lyman Bishop was very different from Anthony Garza, wouldn’t you say?”
He took a drink of wine. “I would. And from what you’ve told me, Jasper is different still.”
She couldn’t help grimacing. “Jasper’s the most frightening psychopath I’ve ever met.”
“He’s what’s called a ‘charismatic psychopath.’” He nudged her. “See? I have been listening.”
She tapped the book she’d been reading. “Cleckley uses words like ‘likeable,’ ‘charming,’ ‘intelligent,’ ‘alert’ and ‘impressive’ when he’s describing some of the psychopaths he studied.”
“I’ve heard you use some of those words.”
“Yes. They fit Jasper to a T. He was the most popular boy in school, could charm anyone. I felt so lucky he chose me.” A wave of resentment passed through her as she remembered the moment she’d found her three girlfriends, murdered, in the little shack she and Jasper had used when they wanted to be alone. He’d lured her friends there and killed them for telling her they’d caught him flirting with another girl—a terrible punishment for such a minor offense, especially because he probably had been flirting.
Amarok held her hand. He didn’t even have to say anything. He was there for her, comforting her, helping her forget and move on. That had to be why she could talk about her past more easily these days. Still, she doubted even the scars she carried on the inside—not to mention the one on her neck—would ever entirely go away.
“I had no clue what he was really like until he dropped the mask,” she said as the worst of her memories, the ones she generally tried to repress, darted across the stage of her mind. “Psychopaths are master manipulators.”
“Look at you, talking about this with such objectivity.”
She chuckled. “I’m healing in so many ways.” She put her drink on the coffee table and took his face between her hands. “And a lot of it is because of you.” She pressed her lips to his and knew that kiss could turn into much more. She heard him sigh in satisfaction, felt his arms go around her and draw her close.
Then the phone rang.
She broke away. “Phil?”
“I don’t know. Ignore it,” he said, and pulled her back for another kiss.
As soon as the ringing stopped, it started up again. Someone wanted to reach him—or her.
Reluctantly, he lifted his head. “Hold that thought,” he said, and walked over, but once he answered, the way his forehead creased suggested it wasn’t good news. “Right now?… What’d you say?… When?… All right, I’ll be there in a sec.”
“What is it?” she asked as he hung up.
“I have to go.”
“Why?”
“There are some hunters at my trooper post. One claims his sister has gone missing.”
“Gone missing from where?”
“A cabin in the mountains. No idea which one. I don’t have many details. All Phil could tell me is that he stopped to get something hot to drink before plowing Main Street again and ran into three guys as he came out. They were frantic, especially one called Leland. He said they were hunting when the storm hit, made it back to their SUV but got stuck in the snow. By the time they dug out the tires and finally reached where they were staying, his sister, who was supposed to be waiting for them, was nowhere to be found.”
Evelyn sat up straight. “Where could she have gone?”
“That’s what I have to find out,” he said as he shrugged on his heavy coat.
Evelyn stood up and came around the couch to meet him at the door. “You don’t think she went out looking for them and got lost.…”
“In a storm like this? I hope not. If she did, it could already be too late.”
*
Amarok managed to convince two of the three hunters to get a room at The Shady Lady rather than risk the trek back to the cabin, but Leland Yerbowitz refused to be left behind. He was determined to help look for his sister, even though Amarok had tried to tell him to stay with his friends. Amarok preferred not to take a cheechako—someone who wasn’t from Alaska and didn’t know how to live there—out into this weather. He shouldn’t be out in it himself. With night coming on and the storm getting worse, he was taking a risk. But he had to do what he could to find Leland’s sister before the temperature dropped any further.
“What’s your sister like?” he asked as they drove. He was trying to distract Leland from his worry, but he also wanted to learn if Sierra was knowledgeable about the outdoors, if she’d done much traveling or exploring or if she was the type who might wander off on her own because of some emotional problem.
Leland stared out at the torrent of snow that made it difficult to see through the windshield. “You know this road like the back of your hand, right?” he said instead of answering.
Amarok didn’t generally have much reason to visit individual hunting cabins. He checked on them occasionally, if the owners requested it, but typically only during the summer. Most were empty throughout the colder months. “I’m somewhat familiar.”
“Somewhat” didn’t seem to offer the reassurance Leland was hoping for. He gripped his seat belt. “How are you going to keep from going over the side?”
Amarok had put chains on all four tires, even though he had four-wheel drive and a shovel on the front of his truck. “I’m taking it slow.”
From Leland’s expression, Amarok wasn’t taking it slow enough, but Sierra’s brother obviously felt the same pressure Amarok did to return to the cabin as quickly as possible, so he clamped his mouth shut and let Amarok drive.
“Can you tell me a little about your sister?” Amarok prompted, trying again.
“What about her?” he asked, his words clipped. “She’s twenty-eight and due to be married soon. We need to find her. I can’t … I can’t even imagine how I’ll feel if something’s happened to her. My mother, my father, our preg nant sister. What’ll I tell them? And her fiancé? I’ll feel responsible for this. I’m the one who wanted to go hunting. She just wanted to do the touristy stuff.”
“We’ll find her,” Amarok said.
“I can’t imagine where she is.”
“Why didn’t her fiancé join you?”
“Couldn’t. He’s a long-haul trucker and had a big delivery.”
“I see. Is she familiar with Alaska?”
No response. It was easy to tell that Leland could only concentrate on finding her, didn’t want to talk or do anything else until that happened.
“Leland?”
“Not at all,” he replied. “This is our first visit, something we’ve been looking forward to for months.”
That wasn’t the answer Amarok had been hoping to hear. Not only was Sierra completely new to the area, she was also young and inexperienced enough that she might feel capable of more than she could accomplish in conditions like these. “Is she prone to wandering off on her own?”