The Darkness of Evil (Karen Vail #7)(37)

Jasmine started peeling away the corner of the cardboard cup jacket.

“That’s how I came to write the book. Started with some thoughts, kept writing night after night after night. I realized I probably saved some lives by turning him in. Eventually the guilt subsided. But it’s never completely gone away. And now he’s out and killing again. Because of me.”

“Look,” Vail said. “No one could’ve foreseen your father’s escape. Well, I guess he did—he’s likely been planning it for a while—but there’s no way you could’ve known what was going to happen when you wrote your book. I’m sure your publisher will understand that your safety has to be the top priority here.”

“My agent is talking to them today.”

“Hopefully we’ll catch him fast and it won’t be an issue.” She snapped her lid back on the cup. “Speaking of which, is there anything you can tell us that would be helpful?”

“Like what?”

“Like his bank. Is his checking account still open?”

Jasmine laughed sardonically. “Like a dutiful daughter, maybe out of guilt, I’ve made sure it stayed open. Every so often I make a small deposit to generate some activity so they don’t close it. Kind of stupid, isn’t it? I mean, he’s in prison for life.” She shook her head. “Definitely guilt.”

“I’m not judging you. Whatever the reason you did it, it’s a good thing. That’ll help us. But stop for now. We need to monitor it for activity.”

“Okay.”

“Which bank?”

“Sutter Savings. I’ll text you the account number.” She took out her phone and opened the messaging app. “What else do you need?”

“Those friends of your father, the ones you told me about. Anything more you can give me on them? Places he used to go when he wanted to unwind. A bar, a restaurant, anything you can think of.”

Jasmine took a bite of her blueberry scone and chewed as she thought. “He did go out drinking. But I never knew where. It’s not like he accounted for his whereabouts to me. Or to my mom.”

“What was their relationship like?”

Jasmine’s gaze wandered around the café, pondering the question. “It’s hard. I keep trying to think about signs, things I saw in how they interacted, that could’ve tipped me off to the fact that he was … murdering people.” She shook her head. “Their relationship was fine, I guess. They spent time together. Sometimes they fought, sometimes they didn’t. He never hit her, at least not that I ever saw.” Jasmine looked down at the table, no doubt replaying her childhood in her mind’s eye. “They weren’t very demonstrative.”

“Demonstrative?”

Jasmine shrugged. “They didn’t hold hands in public. I never saw them kissing. It’s—it’s almost like they were more friends than lovers.” She stopped talking, then took a bite of her scone.

“Some couples are like that,” Vail said. “I wouldn’t read too much into it.” But it could definitely be significant. “Do you think it’s possible he’s gay?”

“What?” Jasmine began rolling the edge of the cardboard jacket between her thumb and index finger. “Why would you ask that?”

“Just something we’re looking into.” Vail watched her a second, sensing there might be more to it than she was letting on. Now did not seem like the time to press it. “You going to tell me where you’re staying?”

She hesitated a moment. “I think it’s best that no one knows. For now.”

Vail nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll respect that.” For now. She drained her cup and dabbed her mouth with the napkin. “But I want you to promise me you’ll stay in touch. I text you, I want you to answer me right away. I could have something important to tell you, for your safety, and I need to know you’re getting my message. If I call, answer it.”

“Got it.”

Vail frowned. “I still don’t like it. Who knows where your father is? You have habits you’re not conscious of, things that he knows you do, places you go—and have gone.”

“I’m doing my best to be aware of things like that.” She placed a hand on Vail’s. “I’ll be okay, Karen. I may not be trained in this kind of thing, but I’ve got my intuition. And so far, it’s served me well.”

“You’ve done okay. Lucky?”

“Nope. Just being smart about things. Really, I’m going to be fine.”

Vail crumpled up the wrapper and dumped her empty cup in the recycling bin behind her. “I have to get back.”

They stood up and Vail gave Jasmine a hug. “I’ll be in touch. Be careful.”

Jasmine grinned weakly. “Always. Especially now.”





18


Marcks awoke with a start. He had fallen asleep a short time after preparing his bed, which, when he settled into it, was more comfortable than he thought it might be when he gathered up the sundry materials. Then again, he had been sleeping on prison cots that dated back five or six decades. Anything better than that would feel like duck feathers.

He sat up, taking in his environment: he was in the barn and light was streaming in through cracks and spaces between the wood slats that formed the walls.