Pushed Too Far: A Thriller (12 page)

She started at Becca’s voice. “I’m afraid so,” Val said.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“No need.” The thought of Hess anywhere near the rookie while not in cuffs made Val sweat almost as much as seeing him in the same room as Grace. “Go ahead and clock out. And have a cookie.” She handed the reindeer to Becca.

Becca turned toward the staircase leading to the basement briefing room and lockers. Before she took the first step, she turned back. “I overheard some of what you and Mr. Lund were talking about this morning.” She held up her hands as if to ward off any anger that might be coming her way. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t eavesdrop or anything, but—”

“What did you overhear?”

“That things, um, might not be what you thought. That Hess might not—”

Val held up a palm, cutting her off. “You can’t tell anyone about that.”

“I won’t.”

“I don’t yet know if there’s any truth to it.”

“Okay. I won’t say anything, but remember, whatever you need, even if I’m not on the clock.”

Val couldn’t help but give the rookie a smile. “Actually, I do have something.”

The rookie beamed. “What?”

“You can canvass hospitals for me. We’re trying to find out if Kelly Lund checked in during the past year, and we’ve only made a small dent in the list so far.”

“I’ll get started right away.”

“First tell Oneida to turn on the camera for the interrogation room.”

Becca took a bite of cookie then scampered out the door with a bounce in her stride that Val wished she could harness to boost her flagging energy.

She met Oneida on her way to the holding cell. The idea of watching Dixon Hess walk out of custody for the second time in as many days weighed on her, but there was no alternative. She had no reason to hold him. And the last thing they needed was for him to still be in custody when the press arrived.

She checked her weapon into the gun safe next to the door. Like sheriff’s deputies operating the local jail and corrections officers in state prison, her officers were never around unsecured prisoners while armed. It felt risky, yet she knew it would be much riskier if Hess was to get his hands on her gun.

Not that he could get out even if he was armed. Not unless Oneida buzzed open the doors from the dispatch center.

She stepped through the door and onto the painted concrete floor, the lock securing behind her. The room smelled of disinfectant, a strange mix of lemon, rubbing alcohol and hospital. In a town the size of Lake Loyal, they only had one holding cell, and it was generally used by the handful of drunks who insisted on driving or starting fights, and locking up drunks always made for a bevy of unpleasant smells.

Hearing the lock clank closed behind her, she glanced up at the camera positioned to catch everything that happened outside the holding cell. Next to it, another monitor showed Hess inside the cell.

No longer staring at the camera, he looked small, ordinary. If she’d been passing him on the street, she might not have even noticed him. That might be what she found most disconcerting of all.

She crossed to the single cell and opened the door.

He remained sitting, reaching his arms over his head in an exaggerated stretch. “Ahh. Freedom is never dear at any price. It is the breath of life. What would a man not pay for living? Do you know who said that?”

He focused on her, his gaze so intense, it was all she could do to keep from looking away.

“I’d like to have a word with you. Is your lawyer on her way?”

“Gandhi,” he continued. “I had a lot of time to read in prison. Got to fully understand all that was taken from me. He and I are a lot alike.”

“You’re comparing yourself to Gandhi?”

He shrugged and rose to his feet. “You want to talk? Let’s talk.”

Val stood to the side, allowing him to step into the secured area outside the cell. She gestured to a small room with a short table jutting from one wall and benches secured on either side. Made of coated steel, it came complete with thick rings in the frame for attaching cuffs and leg shackles.

He sat down, hands and legs free.

“Do you want to wave your right to an attorney?”

One side of his mouth crooked upward. “I think I already have.”

That was easier than she expected. “Why did you go to the high school today?”

“I was asked to speak. And do you know what I was asked to speak about?”

She didn’t answer.

“Justice.”

“Did you bring a weapon into the school?”

“A weapon? Why would I do that?”

He was having far too much fun with the question for her to believe his innocent act. “When you walked in, you had something in your hand. What was it?”

“Just some construction paper.”

“Let me guess, construction paper made to look like a gun?”

“Of course not. It was a harmless piece of paper. Whoever told you it was a gun has quite an imagination.”

He’d either set the girl up, or convinced her to help him with his charade. “I thought you didn’t play games.”

“I don’t. Everything I do is very real.”

“No, me nearly putting a bullet in your head today, that was real.”

He chuckled.

She knew Hess had balls. She didn’t realize they were the size of cantaloupe. “Don’t push me. Shooting you would be a treat. I see what you are, what you did to that girl in Nebraska.”

“You looked at the files? Did you notice any differences?”

“She was tied.”

“Very good.”

“So you could torture her, burn her.”

“I didn’t do anything. A jury found me not guilty, remember?”

Okay, she’d keep it hypothetical. “Why does someone do something like that? What possesses them to do something so evil?”

His lips tightened, and he shook his head. “People deserve to get what they dish out. Eye for an eye. The thief who steals loses his hand, that sort of thing.”

“Justice.”

He shot her a wide grin, showing those perfect teeth. “Exactly.”

“What did that girl do to you?”

“Nothing. Except suck my dick. She was pretty good at that.”

Val kept her expression neutral. “She was the thing someone loved the most, wasn’t she? Who was that someone?”

“And you said you read the police reports?”

She thought about the reports, the transcripts of the trial. “Her father.”

Hess smiled. “What is the point of revenge if the person you want to hurt isn’t around to enjoy the pain? At least for a little while.”

“You tortured a girl to death to get back at her father?”

He tapped his chest with his fingertips. “Not guilty, remember?”

“What did he do to you?”

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“At trial, the prosecutor argued that the girl refused to date you.”

“If by date you mean open her legs, she dated anything that moved.”

“I could ask the father. His number is in the police report.”

“He wasn’t a good man, Chief Val. Whatever happened to him, he deserved it.”

“Okay, I’ll ask him to explain.”

“Do that. And while you’re at it, ask what he did to Rascal.”

“Rascal?”

“A kid’s best friend is his dog.”

His dog. The neighbor had done something to his dog, so Hess had tortured and killed the man’s daughter. Dixon Hess’s version of justice.

“It was nice meeting the kids at school today. All those fresh faces, bright futures. Especially this blond beauty. I think her name was Grace.”

Val leaned close. “You touch her, you’re dead.”

The intercom gave a light buzz. “Chief?” Oneida said over the speaker.

“Go ahead. Answer.” Hess smiled. “I think we’re done here anyway.”

V
al completed the details of Hess’s release as quickly as she could, and when she got back to dispatch, she was still shaking.

Oneida, too, looked more pale than usual. “Mr. Haselow has called an emergency meeting.”

It had to be about what had happened at the high school. Typical for the village president to hold an emergency meeting after the emergency was over. “In the conference room?”

“He and The Chief are waiting for you in your office.”

“Thanks, Oneida. Why don’t you go home now? Your shift was done hours ago.”

The big woman shook her head hard enough to send her earrings jangling. “No chance. Not until everything’s back to normal around here.”

Val had the sense that things wouldn’t return to normal until Hess either killed again and was caught or moved on. Unwilling to lay that kind of pessimism on poor Oneida, she resigned herself to a lame nod. “Then you probably won’t be getting home for quite a while.”

“I have tomorrow off. I can sleep then.”

“Working all the time, not getting proper rest, you’re as bad as I am.”

Oneida gave her a wink. “But I smell sweeter.”

She probably had a point.

And when Val entered her office and was almost knocked over by a wave of cologne that reeked as if it had passed some kind of expiration date and soured like milk, her first thought was to make sure the odor wasn’t coming from her.

The village president, a skinny little balding man named Haselow who never seemed to like Val very much, gave her a screamingly phony smile. “So glad you’re finally here. I guess we can start the meeting then.”

Lounging in one of the chairs in front of her desk, Jeff Schneider pressed his lips together. Not a smile exactly, but a show of support, subtle as it may be.

She circled to the power side of the desk and sat. “Sorry for keeping you waiting. It’s been busy.”

“So we’ve heard.” Haselow perched on the edge of his chair. The man was nervous, always moving, a jiggling leg, shifting eyes, hand fiddling with his suit jacket.

Just watching him exhausted her. How he’d convinced people to vote for him, she’d never know.

“All the news outlets are covering it,” he rattled on. “It’s very unfortunate. We are very concerned.”

Val laid out the facts of the afternoon, trying to keep her voice even and reassuring; Hess’s gun that turned out to be paper, the way he’d wheedled a speaking invitation in her niece’s class, the fact that they’d secured the building without anyone getting hurt.

Schneider nodded understandingly.

Haselow seemed to grow more nervous. “Oh, that’s bad. Very bad. It seems we should have made this move as soon as that girl was found in the lake.”

“This move?”

Schneider folded his hands in his lap.

Haselow fluttered out of his chair and crossed the room in short strides.

“You’re planning to fire me?”

“Heavens, no.”

“Ask me to resign?”

The village president waved his hands. “Nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

“I really hate to do this, but after great deliberation, I think it’s the only sensible solution. Lake Loyal has to know that during this difficult time, it can still rely on its police department.”

She wished he would just spit it out. “I’m fired?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Haselow shook his head as if that conclusion was the silliest thing he’d heard all day. “You’re suspended. With pay. Just until the county can complete its investigation.”

And then she would be fired.

“And I’m putting myself on this suspension?”

Now the bobble head switched to an incessant nod. “After the stressful situation at the school, you thought it best if someone else was in charge for now.”

“Then I should probably be impressed with myself. Who knew I was so level headed, selfless, and responsible?”

Schneider cracked a hint of a smile.

Haselow switched back to shaking head mode and glanced longingly at the door.

She forced herself to breathe, in and out, in and out. How had she failed to see this coming? Now she had no clue how to deal with it. She stepped to the front of her desk and leaned a hip on the edge. She couldn’t just walk away. Suspended or not, she felt responsible for the town’s safety.

Now more than ever.

Maybe she could work with the interim chief. Maybe she could convince him to let her help, even if it was on her own time. “Who’s taking over the department?”

Haselow glanced around the room, shoulders hitched up around his ears. He looked like a frightened mouse, too frightened, apparently, to come out with it.

She looked up at Chief Schneider. “Who?”

He gave her an apologetic smile. “It will all be okay, Val. Don’t worry about it.”

“You?”

“It’ll work out. For everyone.”

Val wasn’t sure if she was supposed to feel betrayed or relieved, but—as seemed to be happening a lot lately—all she could muster was numb.