Hanover House: Kickoff to the Evelyn Talbot Chronicles

Chapter 1

Four months later...

She'd been attacked. Dr. Evelyn Talbot remembered that right off. From the lights and the noise, she also knew she was in a hospital. She just couldn't recall how she'd gotten there.

"She's moving. I think she's coming around."

Was that a doctor, or maybe a nurse? She didn't recognize the voice, but her thoughts were fuzzy, and it was too difficult to open her eyes. She almost sank back into the dark void she'd just emerged from, where she could drift without worry, without having to conjure up the chain of events that had led to this. She didn't want to fight any of the battles she'd have to fight if she woke up.

But then she heard a voice she did recognize, and that voice spoke directly to her.

"Honey, it's Mom. Can you hear me? If you can hear me, squeeze my hand."

Squeeze her hand? Surely, things weren't that bad. But Evelyn didn't yet know for sure. She could hear tears in Lara's voice, so she felt obligated to expend the Herculean effort required to actually break the surface of consciousness.

"She's pretty drugged. It might be a while," the first person responded, but that person didn't realize how much Evelyn stood to lose if her family started to make too much fuss about the risk inherent in her job. What'd happened today (if it was still "today"; she had no idea how long she'd been out) was her own fault. She knew the type of men she dealt with, understood what they were capable of. She'd studied more psychopaths than almost any other mental health professional in America. She'd merely allowed herself to be distracted at the worst possible moment.

"Mom?" she croaked, forcing the word through lips that would barely part.

"Evelyn!" Her mother leaned over her bed. "You gave us such a scare. Are you okay?"

Lara's white hair and gently lined face, pinched with worry, finally came into focus. A nurse was in the room too—a young Indian woman with a kind smile—but no one else. Where was her father? And her sister? Surely, Lara had alerted them.

Wait...she wasn't thinking straight. Of course they wouldn't be here; they'd be back in Boston. Her mother had traveled with her to San Francisco, where she'd had to come on business, so that they could spend some time together before Evelyn moved to Alaska.

"I'm fine. Everything's...fine." At least, she hoped it was. It would help if her darn tongue wasn't so unwieldy... That was due to the pain meds, no doubt; she recognized the effects. "What happened?"

She remembered leaving her mother at the hotel, arriving at San Quentin State Prison, passing through security and waiting to meet with one of the candidates on her list—a serial killer who'd strangled fifteen women...

Hugo Evanski. That was his name. She'd been standing up, reading his file when he was brought into the room, and then...nothing. That was where her mind went blank.

"That animal you went to see?" her mother said. "That murderer? He broke away from the guard and rushed you on sight. Hit you so hard you banged your head against the wall, then fell and hit the corner of the desk. You have several stitches in your temple."

Evelyn licked her lips, trying to ease the dryness. She felt like the tin man from The Wizard of Oz, with no oil. "Did he...did he do anything else?"

Lara's eyebrows knitted. "Isn't that enough?"

"I can't feel much. I'm...trying to ascertain the extent of my injuries."