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Pushed Too Far

Page 8

by Ann Voss Peterson


  Her mind was still buzzing over her talk with Jeff Schneider, and although he’d laid out like trump cards all the reasons why she should suspect Lund, she didn’t feel clearer headed than she had before she’d set foot in the Doghouse.

  “She said it’s urgent,” Oneida called.

  Val waved her acknowledgement, slipped into her office, and shut the door. Not bothering to take off her coat, she raced directly to her desk, and picked up the phone. “Monica.”

  “He called me.”

  Val didn’t ask who. “Did he threaten you?”

  “He’s too careful, but he didn’t have to. He phoned our hotel room, Val. At the casino. How could he know I was here?”

  If Hess’s aim was to frighten, he was succeeding. Val had to say something to calm the district attorney down. She needed Monica to think logically. “It’s not a secret you like the casino. You weren’t home, so he went to the next option on his list.”

  “The fact that he has a list is what disturbs me. I don’t like him knowing so much about me.”

  Val had to agree. “Exactly what did he say?”

  “He asked me if I believed in justice. That was it, just that one question.”

  “He asked me the same thing. And Tamara Wade.”

  “His own lawyer?”

  “Maybe he didn’t think she did a good job.”

  “She did a fine job. She just lost. But then, she was up against me, so who can blame her?”

  Val let out a breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding. “Calming down, Monica?”

  “I guess. Yeah.” Monica laughed, the sound deep and throaty. “I was pretty freaked out, wasn’t I?”

  “Can’t say I blame you. I think freaked out is just where Hess wants us.”

  “Has he threatened anyone else?”

  “I’m only aware of the three of us, but the day is still young.” As she said the words, the line two indicator light started blinking. “I’ll keep you posted, Monica.”

  “Call my cell. Derrick took more of his vacation, so we’re staying a couple more days, trying out a few more positions. Gambling has given him stamina like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Right. Ah, okay, have fun.” She cut off the call.

  Line two was Oneida. “A call just came in. I figured you’d want to know.”

  “Who?”

  “A student at the high school. Dixon Hess is there …”

  Val was on her feet before she heard the rest.

  “… and she thinks he has a gun.”

  Chapter

  Eleven

  “Shots fired?” Val called to Oneida, running past dispatch on her way out.

  “No. Becca’s en route.”

  “Call county. We’ll need help. And maybe Baraboo can spare someone. EMS, too.”

  “On it.”

  She felt cooler, calmer than she had any right to, but she knew that was thanks to years of training. Adrenaline made the world around her laser sharp and brittle. Grace’s beautiful face flashed through her mind, but she resisted giving into the accompanying feelings.

  Sharp. Focus.

  She grabbed a vest on her way out and ran for her car. She didn’t have lights and sirens, but the school was only blocks away. Pushing the speed limit as much as she dared, she made it in minutes.

  The one story high school was quiet, no movement, no sound, doors all closed. Becca was already there. Standing at the rear of her black-and-white, trunk open, her body visibly shaking.

  Val ditched her coat in the car and was out of the vehicle nearly the moment it stopped. Making straight for Becca, she shrugged on the Kevlar. “Have you made contact with anyone?”

  “Oneida has a teacher on the phone now. But she doesn’t seem to know anything.”

  “School locked down?”

  “Yes.”

  “The teacher, did she see a gun?”

  “She saw something, not really sure it was a gun. Maybe we should wait.”

  “That’s not how it works, Becca.”

  Since the Columbine High School tragedy, law enforcement had changed tactics in cases like this. No more holding the perimeter. No more waiting for a hostage negotiator or tactical team. Confronting an active shooter was all about going in as quickly as possible.

  Limiting the damage. Eliminating the threat.

  Becca should know all of this, she’d gone through the training, but the way her hands shook as she pulled the school floor plan out of her squad bag explained the lapse.

  Not a good sign. “Damn, where’s county?”

  Becca tapped the mic clipped to the shoulder of her uniform and relayed the question to Oneida.

  “On their way,” came the answer.

  “How many?”

  “A county deputy, one officer from Baraboo and one from Lake Delton, provided he can get there in time. EMS should be there any minute.”

  As if on cue, the screech of sirens rode the cold wind.

  Good. That would be four officers without Becca. As jittery as she was, Val wasn’t sure she trusted the rookie to handle the situation.

  But they’d better hurry.

  So far the news didn’t seem to be out. Once another kid snuck a call on a cell phone, the place would doubtlessly be flooded with parents rushing in to save their children.

  Like Val was doing now.

  She forced herself to breathe, to think. Spreading out the map, she studied the school’s simple floor plan, even though she already had it committed to memory. “What classroom?”

  “He was last seen entering the four hundred wing,” Oneida said. “That’s all I got.”

  Sirens grew louder, then shut off abruptly. Two cars pulled into the parking lot, one from the county sheriff’s department, one from the Baraboo PD. They positioned the vehicles to cut off the entrances, lights flashing, and joined Val at Becca’s car.

  Going over the map with them took only a few seconds. As she talked, she tightened the Velcro straps on her vest. Dead hand giving her problems, the county deputy finally had to help.

  “Thanks. Injured it.”

  “Better take a rifle.”

  She took the rifle from Becca’s squad and told the others about the officer en route from Lake Delton.

  “There are four of us here now. We can’t wait.” Val eyed Becca. “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “You looked a little shaken.”

  “I’m fine.” She nodded to underscore. “I was kind of upset, but I’m better, getting it under control.”

  Val studied her for a moment. Her breathing seemed only slightly elevated, the shaking not as pronounced. “Okay, I’ll take you at your word. Let’s go.”

  The rifle felt awkward in her hand, but it was a big improvement from her 9mm. With Becca on the radio, at least she didn’t have to handle that.

  Val led, approaching the school from the entrance at the end of the four hundred wing’s hallway. She could see into the glass doors. No one in the hall. “Going in.”

  Becca did her parrot act for Oneida’s benefit.

  The door wasn’t locked. The deputy yanked it open, and they streamed in, single file. Val and Becca moved close to the right wall. The deputy and Baraboo cop took the left.

  The hallway stretched long in front of them, sun from the other end glowing off the waxed and polished floor. The hall was neat, no scattered papers or backpacks, as if it was a normal school day, everyone in class, nothing out of place.

  There had still been no report of gunfire, and Val had to wonder why. If Hess had the recklessness to burst into a school with a gun, why hadn’t he used it? What was he planning?

  Each classroom had a solid door with a side panel of glass, similar to her office back at the station. They moved to the first door, the other two taking the classroom opposite. A peek inside showed the kids at their desks. The teacher was the only one standing, the only adult in the room. An older woman with a pinched-looking face met Val’s eyes. She held a cell phone in her hand and g
estured to it. The one on the phone with Oneida.

  “This room’s clear.” Val glanced across the hall.

  “This one’s empty,” called the deputy.

  They moved on to the next class. On Val and Becca’s side, this room was also filled with kids. The teacher, a man, rushed to the door as if to throw it open. She held up her hand. “Keep it locked.”

  He nodded and stood staring at her, hands hanging limp at his sides.

  “Clear over here,” the deputy said.

  Third door down.

  She peered in. The first thing she noticed was Grace’s face. The second was Hess’s.

  They were several feet apart, Grace sitting at a desk, Hess standing at the front of the class. But as far as Val was concerned, Dixon Hess being in the same building as her niece was too close for her comfort.

  “Got him.” She nodded to Becca for the pliers.

  The rookie fumbled at her belt. The tool hit the floor with a clang.

  The other two were beside them, the Baraboo cop using his pliers on the doorknob. A hard twist, and they were in.

  Val led with the rifle. “Get down. Now. All of you, down.”

  Kids screamed. Other officers barked orders. The teacher threw herself in front of students near her, pushing them to the floor.

  Hess smiled and held his hands up.

  His empty hands.

  She leveled the rifle straight on the bastard’s upper lip. She wasn’t positive she could rely on her fingers to pull the trigger, but if he so much as twitched, she’d damn well find a way. “On the floor.”

  He flattened himself on his stomach.

  “Hands on your head. Ankles crossed.”

  He assumed the position like an old pro.

  “Somebody cuff him.”

  The deputy stepped forward and secured Hess’s hands behind his back. Once that was done, he ran his hands over the bound man’s sides and down his legs. “He’s clean.”

  “What did you do with the gun?”

  “You think I’m armed?” Hess’s voice was far more calm than it should be. He tilted his eyes up and met Val’s. “Why would I bring a gun into the school? You think I’m suicidal?”

  “Face down.”

  “I think someone’s feeding you bad information, Chief Val.”

  She hadn’t felt anything but clear and focused on her way into the school, riding a wave of adrenaline. Now her pulse was thrumming so hard she couldn’t think, and her whole body was vibrating.

  She located Grace in the group of kids being ushered from the room by the Baraboo cop. She was okay. Unhurt. Her niece was all that really mattered.

  And now Hess knew it, too.

  Chapter

  Twelve

  Val eyed her officers gathered in the police station’s conference room. “How in the hell did he get invited to speak at the school? And why didn’t anyone in the office seem to know about it?”

  Now that Hess was safely contained in the single holding cell, Val couldn’t contain her disbelief. How could they have possibly raided the high school on a misunderstanding? How many failures had to stack up for that to happen? How many people didn’t do their jobs?

  “It wasn’t an accident,” Pete Olson said. Hearing what was going on, he’d rushed to the high school on his day off.

  Val had been glad for the help. “You know that for a fact, Pete?”

  “Not for a fact. But the girl who called it in? There’s something fishy there, something she’s not telling. I can’t say if she’s lying about the gun or Hess made her think he had one. Either way, after all this town has gone through, he had to know he’d stir up a panic setting foot in that school and bypassing the office. And then there was the specific classroom he chose.”

  Val felt cold. She turned her head, trying to stretch the spasm from her neck muscles and not think too hard about how close Hess had gotten to Grace. Leaving her niece at school to finish out the rest of the day had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done, even knowing Hess would be locked up in their holding cell until after the final bell rang.

  Still she’d arranged for the second shift officer to pick up her niece from school and bring her to the station. Grace wouldn’t be happy, but she’d get over it. Val wasn’t taking chances. She’d also ramped up her efforts to get Grace out of town.

  “The classroom teacher said she invited him,” Becca said, addressing Olson.

  “I took her statement,” Olson said. “Seems he happened to run into her at the supper club and gave her the idea. The bastard was hoping it would work out this way.”

  “Why?” Becca asked.

  “To make sure Val knew he could reach Grace.”

  “But he couldn’t control the situation. He might have been shot.” Becca leaned toward Olson, her eyebrows pinched and lips pursed, as if really trying to understand, and Val couldn’t help thinking she looked like Grace studying physics.

  “Too bad he wasn’t,” Olson said.

  Becca shook her head. “I interviewed the teacher Oneida had on the phone. She didn’t see a gun, but she was definitely afraid. She said some things about his release, things she heard from her brother.”

  “Her brother?”

  “Derrick Shaw.”

  Val shifted the name around in her mind until it fell into place. “Monica Forbes’s fiancé?”

  Becca nodded.

  Damn small towns. Everyone connected. Everyone knowing everyone else’s business. Derrick Shaw runs his mouth off, and panic grows. “What about the teacher who invited Hess to class? Did she clear it with anyone?”

  “The office knew she invited a guest, but not who.”

  It sounded like a setup, all right. And she needed to talk to the one monster who could explain it all. If he wanted to.

  “Finish up the paperwork. And don’t talk to the media, not yet. I’ll be giving an official statement in time for the six o’clock news.” Val left the conference room and slipped into dispatch.

  Oneida had ducked into the adjoining office for the moment, donning her clerical hat, the only sign of her a plate of her famous red and green iced sugar cookies under a monitor showing the location of the two squads currently out on the road, one having already picked up Grace from school.

  Val grabbed a reindeer and glanced at another monitor mounted high on the wall. The screen was split into four images, the entry door outside, the squad parking area and entrance for officers, the area outside the holding cell, and the holding cell itself. Hess sat on the concrete bench, leaning back against the wall, as if dozing.

  She was just about to turn away when he opened his eyes and looked directly at the camera. The urge to step back, out of his line of vision, was overwhelming.

  Stupid. He couldn’t see her, the camera image only went one way, and yet she could feel his eyes on her as distinct as a physical touch.

  “I suppose we have to release him then?”

  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?”

 

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