Pushed Too Far: A Thriller (6 page)

In a room full of average men, Dixon Hess would win a prize for being the most average.

His light brown hair was short, but not too short. His clean-shaven face was pleasant at first glance, but not too pleasant. He was already dressed for court, wearing a suit, his shirt a crisp white, his tie disarming pink. To a casual observer, he probably looked like any upstanding guy on his way to any office job in any city across the country. In a word, generic.

But only if they weren’t close enough to see his eyes.

Ice blue. Hard. So sharp, Val could feel them cut.

He sat next to his lawyer, a stylish-on-a-budget public defender named Tamara Wade. But though she was leaning close, talking in his ear, he didn’t seem to be listening.

All of his attention was focused on Val.

She nodded to the two deputies in the room, took her chair, and plunked the heavy file she was carrying on the table top. She would have preferred a room with no table, leaving Hess more exposed so she could better read his body language, but at short notice, this small conference room was all she could get.

At least the table would also hide her vulnerabilities from him.

“Chief Valerie Ryker,” he said, slowly running his tongue over her name. “Congratulations on the new title.”

“Thank you.”

“Aren’t you going to congratulate me on my freedom?”

She forced her lips into a smile but didn’t say a word. Often the simple act of saying nothing was a more effective interview technique than all the words in the dictionary. Silence increased the pressure, made the subject eager to fill the void, to explain away his guilt.

Val wasn’t sure that was going to work with Hess.

He seemed too relaxed, almost at ease, leaning against the back of his chair as if slightly bored. Where people under stress carried a smell about them, a cross between sweat and a visceral edge of fear, the only scent she could detect was Tamara’s perfume.

If there was anyone in this room feeling pressure, it was Tamara. Or Val herself.

She held his gaze and waited, seconds feeling like minutes, but nothing seemed to change. Voices rumbled out in the hall. One of the bailiffs shifted his shoes on the floor, the keys in his belt jingling.

“Police Chief Ryker?” The lawyer broke the standoff, addressing the camera looking down at them from the corner. “I’ve advised my client not to talk to you. In fact, I am entirely opposed to this meeting.”

“Noted,” Val responded to Tamara, but she kept her eyes on Hess. “If you have nothing to hide, why be afraid to talk to me?”

“Actually I’m more in the mood to listen.”

“Fine.” She flipped open the folder, although there wasn’t a word or image in it that she didn’t know in excruciating detail. “We have uncovered a number of additional facts since this case was prosecuted.”

“Is this a preview of what you’ll be presenting at the hearing?” Tamara asked.

“That depends.” Val gave a non-committal tilt of her head. Unless Hess slipped up, the prosecution wouldn’t have anything to present.

“Depends on what?” the lawyer asked.

“On what your client has to say.”

“Don’t tell me. The person you say I killed wasn’t Kelly Lund after all?”

Tamara shot Hess a nervous glance. “He’s doing you a favor by listening to you. He’s not answering questions.”

“Fine.”

“So what are your issues?”

The way she phrased it, you’d think Val was coming to her for counseling, not interviewing her client.

Val had been right. Questioning Hess had been a bad idea. It would have been one thing if she was talking to him alone. Then she might be able to use the baby to goad him into slipping up. Maybe. But Tamara Wade was no dummy. The more Val talked, the more likely the lawyer was to notice that she had little new information that pertained to the Jane Doe murder and nothing that implicated her client.

Best to keep the exchange short and shocking. “The most interesting thing we’ve found was at Kelly’s autopsy.”

“You’re not planning to accuse me of her murder, are you? Because I have a pretty convincing alibi.”

“No, I don’t think you killed Kelly.”

“Finally. Guess a guy’s got to be locked in prison before you believe him.”

“But we did find that during the time she was gone …” Val paused for a beat. “… Kelly gave birth.”

“A child?” Tamara’s voice spiked. She turned wide eyes on her client.

Hess’s sharp eyes remained steady, his face a mask of calm. “Where is the baby?”

“I thought you were in the mood to listen, not ask or answer questions.”

“My mood has changed.”

Tamara Wade held up her hand. “I have to advise—”

“Shut it,” Hess said.

The defense lawyer visibly cringed.

Hess’s ice pick eyes drilled into Val. “Where is he?”

“He?” At no time had she referred to the baby as he.

“The child.”

“How do you know the child is a boy?”

“You don’t know where he is, do you? You don’t have a clue.”

Of course, she didn’t, not that she hadn’t tried. Not that she wouldn’t keep trying. But at this point, she hadn’t even found the hospital where Kelly had given birth, provided it was in a hospital at all. “We’re following up some leads.”

“Games. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? It’s a game to you. Trying to get me to talk, get me to tell you something you don’t know, because you’ve hit a dead end.”

“I don’t play games.” Sure it was a lie. But that was part of the game.

A smile curled the corners of his lips, but his eyes remained cold. “Neither do I. That’s one of the things I learned in Waupun. Life is too short. I play for keeps.”

“How do you know about the baby?”

“That’s easy. Kelly told me. We were both very happy about the news.”

In preparation for the interview, Val had checked a list of his prison visitors. Beyond his lawyer, Hess hadn’t had any. “When did she tell you?”

“The day she disappeared.”

“How far along was she?”

“A couple of weeks.”

“That’s awfully early for her to know the gender. How do you know it’s a boy?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I always wanted a son.”

Right. Val had an idea where the news might have come from. She stole a glance Tamara’s way. “Who told you about the baby, Tamara?”

The attorney’s face grew pale. “Excuse me?”

“You were his only visitor. I checked the records.”

She shook her head, strawberry blond bob swinging like a shampoo commercial. “He received mail, too.”

“And it’s monitored. I checked. No, the news had to come from you.”

“Whatever I talked about with my client is protected.”

Hess’s chuckle grated on Val’s nerves.

The lawyer might not have to spill her secrets, but that didn’t mean Val couldn’t follow up. Unfortunately failing to admit how he knew the baby’s gender wasn’t a chargeable offense. “So the baby is yours, Hess? You know that for certain?”

“Of course, the baby is mine.”

“If Kelly told you she was pregnant, and you were both so happy, why didn’t she come forward when you were arrested for her murder? Why would she let you go to prison?”

“Why does a woman do anything, Chief? I think you can probably answer that better than I can.”

“You must have been very angry when you found out she was alive.”

Another hint of a chilling smile. “I found out when my lawyer told me. And unfortunately, by then Kelly was already dead.”

“Why didn’t you say anything at your trial?”

“Haven’t you been listening? I didn’t know she was alive.”

“But you knew the woman in that barrel wasn’t Kelly. Who was she?”

He blew a derisive laugh through his nose. “Nice try, Chief Valerie. But you said you didn’t play games.”

“Not a game. A sincere question.”

“Then I’ll give you a sincere answer, and I’ll make it as clear as I can.” This time he held up a silencing hand even before Tamara could open her mouth. “I did not kill that woman you found. I have no idea who killed her or who she was. You were the one who said it was Kelly, and as far as I knew, that could have been true. But I didn’t kill her. I was framed for that murder.”

“Listen, I know Kelly’s family wasn’t as apple pie as they’ve been made out to be. I’ve seen the house, the locks on the outside of the bedroom doors. I’m sure they weren’t the easiest people to deal with.”

“You have no idea.”

“I’m sure you had good reason.”

Hess gave a dramatic yawn. “I’ve had enough of answering your questions, Valerie. I have a question for you.”

Val set her jaw. “Ask away.”

“Do you believe in justice?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

For the first time since Val had entered the room, he spared a glance at his attorney. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Some people can answer a simple question.”

Tamara didn’t say a word or make a movement, but Val swore she could see the woman withdraw like a turtle retreating into her shell at his threat.

“Is that why you killed the woman at the Meinholz farm and burned her body? Justice? Did Kelly’s father do something to you?”

He shook his head, slowly, deliberately. “Prison is a bad place to be, Chief Val. You have no idea how much noise and smell a shithole full of men can produce. Not to mention the never ending mystery over whether your cellie is more interested in fucking or killing you. But that isn’t the worst part. Do you know what is?”

Val didn’t answer.

“The worst part is losing what was mine. That’s what it all comes down to, isn’t it? You want to really hurt a man, you take away what he loves the most. You take away what’s
his
.”

“What did you lose, Hess?”

“My son. My freedom. My reputation.”

Despite her effort to control her response, Val let out a disbelieving huff on that last one.

Hess raised his brows. “You don’t think my reputation is important to me?”

“Maybe I should call down to Omaha and see what the police there think.”

“Maybe you should. And if you really do believe in justice, and you look hard enough at the evidence in that case—not what the cops made up—you’ll see it all doesn’t tie together like you want it to.”

He leaned toward Tamara, taking a peek at her watch. “Now we have a hearing to get ready for. If you want to chat again, I’ll see you on the outside.”

V
al squinted through the salt-spotted windshield at the county courthouse. She wasn’t sure how long a habeas corpus hearing and press conference would take, but as the sun dipped closer to the horizon and shadows deepened on the fresh snow, she had the feeling it wasn’t merely night that was creeping over her little town.

“You okay, Chief?”

At the sound of Becca’s voice, Val started. After her disastrous interview with Hess, culminating in his do-you-believe-in-justice threat and reference to the Omaha case, she’d returned to Lake Loyal and started going through the reports she’d had sent up from Nebraska for her original investigation. Since Hess had been acquitted in the Omaha murder, Monica hadn’t been able to use any of it at trial, but the evidence in that case had given Val insight into the kind of man she was dealing with. Now she realized the file was woefully incomplete.

If there was something specific about that case Hess was referring to, she couldn’t see it. So she’d called the Omaha PD and requested further reports, and then unable to sit around and wait for Armageddon, she’d decided to drive to the courthouse and watch it begin. Her eager rookie officer had talked her way into driving her there.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired,” Val said. She turned to face the driver’s side of the squad car and noticed Becca eyeing her hand. She stuffed it into her pocket.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Fingers are just stiff. Probably a little arthritis or carpal tunnel or something.”

“I have ibuprofen in my bag.”

Val waved off the offer. “It’s nothing. I just wish they’d hurry up. How long can a habeas corpus hearing take?”

“And a press conference.”

Of course. Val wouldn’t want to forget the press conference. She could imagine the headlines and front page photos peppering newspapers and local TV across Wisconsin tonight.

INNOCENT MAN FREED AFTER MURDER VICTIM FOUND IN FROZEN LAKE.

Innocent.

She shook her head. If she was really lucky, they’d include a photo of her from the old investigation footage; her blond hair tied back, her uniform making her look severe and more than a little pear shaped. And maybe they’d even point out that this false conviction had landed her the job of police chief, that she’d built her career on the back of this poor, downtrodden, innocent man.