“Thanks. And where did you say Val was?”
“Hiding. From this.”
“Where is she hiding?”
“Sit over there.” She pointed to the break area where a half pot of coffee was starting to smell burned, even from this distance.
Lund wrinkled his nose. Did no one drink coffee in this place? “Just tell me where she is.”
“Sit. If she wants you to have that information, I’ll give it to you.”
Lund knew better than to disobey a direct order, at least not while Oneida was in mother bear mode and Val wasn’t returning his calls. What had happened in Val’s meeting with Haselow? Where was she now?
He avoided the horrible coffee—who said he didn’t learn from his mistakes—and slid into one of the chairs instead. Propping up his feet on the second chair’s seat, he picked up the brand new issue of the local paper and settled in for the duration.
The “Milk Jug Firebug” was plastered all over the front page, of course, news that would be on televisions across the nation tonight. In the dispatch center, the phone calls continued to flow in faster than Oneida could deliver her “continuing investigation” statement and promise an afternoon press conference.
Lund flipped pages, craving local high school basketball scores or local school board news or… anything else. His eyes landed on the police blotter.
The first entries were the fires: the one at the old Merlyne plant last week, the Tiedemann house, and the explosion at Meinholz farm. News of Chief Fruehauf’s death was too recent to have made the weekly issue. Then there were a couple of thefts. A report of a cell phone, wallet, and keys being lifted at a fast food restaurant. A shoplifting call from a convenience store that came in yesterday. And finally a theft at the local farmer’s co-op.
He was about to toss the paper on the table and see if bribery would work with Oneida, when he had the feeling he was missing something right under his nose. He looked back at the police blotter, zeroing in on the co-op theft.
The items reported missing were a dozen bags of ammonium nitrate fertilizer.
Lund stared at the paper, listening to his heart pound in his chest. He pulled out his cell phone and called Val’s number for the second time that morning.
Voice mail.
“Call me right away.” He hung up and struggled to his feet. “Oneida?”
She glanced up, an annoyed look on her face. Putting a caller on hold, she slid one side of her headsets cock-eyed, uncovering an ear.
“Tell Val to call me. It’s urgent.”
“If you haven’t noticed, all hell is breaking loose here.”
“It’s urgent,” he repeated. “She’ll want to know.”
Apparently catching the resolve in his voice, she nodded. “Will do.”
He started for the door. In the meantime, he’d find out more about what they were facing. He might not be a fire fighter at the moment, but he still had the resources of the department at his disposal.
Val
When Val reached the casino, three Wisconsin Dells PD patrol cars were already there. She pulled in next to the closest and struggled out of her car.
“You’re Chief Ryker?” an officer standing at the door asked.
“Yes.” Val had used lights and sirens all the way up, and every fiber of her body felt shaky. Her first call had gone to Grace’s voice mail. Her second was to the Wisconsin Dells PD to notify them of a kidnapping. “Did you find them?”
“We have the subject.”
“And my niece?”
“I’m afraid we haven’t located her yet.”
She braced her weak leg against her car’s fender to steady herself while she positioned her crutches. Grace was gone, and Val herself had handed her over. “Where is Mark Sheridan?” she asked the officer.
“Manager’s office. It’s right next to secur—”
“Thanks. I know where it is.” Swinging between the crutches, Val plunged into the darkness of the casino.
I’m so sorry, Grace. How could I have believed him?
Flashing neon formed a prism in the blur of her right eye. Pausing outside the door marked Manager, she gathered her energy, her resolve, her anger, then knocked.
The door opened before she rapped a second time. Mark sat in a chair in front of the manager’s desk, looking as calm and pulled together and casually handsome as he had when he’d pleaded with her to let him get to know his daughter.
“Chief Ryker, he’s—”
She lunged past the officer. Letting one crutch topple to the floor, she launched her numb fist into Mark’s face, connecting with his nose. The blow shuddered up her arm, but other than that, she couldn’t feel a thing.
Mark, on the other hand, jerked back, blood blooming from his nostrils and trickling over his lips and chin. “She can’t do that. Isn’t that police brutality or something?”
“Didn’t see a thing,” the officer standing next to her said, but he grabbed her upper arm anyway and handed her the fallen crutch.
She yanked away from his grasp, not taking her eyes off Mark. “Where is she? What did you do to my Grace?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? How can you not know?”
He stood and held up a hand as if to shield himself. “She wasn’t feeling well, said she wanted to lie down. That’s the last I saw her, I swear.”
Val turned on the officer behind her. “You checked her room?”
“Yes. She’s not there.”
“And the car?”
“Not in the lot.”
“Someone call the rental company. Find out if they use a theft recovery system like LoJack on their vehicles. We need to find that car.”
One of the officers slipped out the door. Val turned back to Mark. She didn’t have any real authority here. Not only was the casino outside of Lake Loyal, it was the jurisdiction of the tribal police and the FBI. But she had only to look into the pinched faces of the Dells’ officers to know they’d do whatever it took to find a fellow law enforcement officer’s missing child.
“Why did you do it, Mark?”
“I didn’t do any—”
“Why?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re not Grace’s father. You lied.”
An explosion of chimes and electronic blips and beeps came from outside the office. A big winner in the house.
“I don’t know how you can say that,” he protested over the noise. “The resemblance is obvious. She looks just like my—”
“Cut the shit, Mark. You had a vasectomy before we were even engaged.”
He glanced at the officers, at the floor, everywhere but at Val. “How did you know… What the hell did you do? Have me investigated? How could you do something like that? That has to be the lowest…”
More jangles from the other side of the door, mixed with the whoops of the winners.
That was it.
“The casino.” Val said. “Someone offered you cash.”
He averted his eyes. The shift was subtle, but damning.
Val lunged for him, but this time the officer was ready. He grabbed her arm, holding her back.
Mark stepped back until he ran into the wall. “All right. All right. I have debts.”
“So you sold my niece?”
“No, of course not. All I had to do was bring her here. I didn’t think anything bad would happen.”
Val had been through many trials in the short time she was engaged to Mark. Gambling was an addiction, and like any addict, he’d ignore anything, justify anything, and sell out his own mother if it meant getting his fix.
But this?
Screw punching him. Val wanted to kick him upside the head. Or better yet, shoot him. “Why would someone pay you to bring a teenage girl to a hotel?”
“To keep her safe. That’s what I was told.”
“And who told you this?”
“I don’t know.”
“And
that didn’t seem strange to you? That some unnamed person wanted you to kidnap Grace in order to keep her safe?”
“Kidnapping? I didn’t—”
“Answer the question. Seem strange to you?”
He squirmed a little, but shook his head. “Not at the time.”
Not at the time, because he owed someone money, or could feel a winning streak coming on, or any number of excuses he’d used back when she’d been young and stupid and engaged to this idiot.
“How were you contacted?”
“By phone.”
“Man or woman?”
“Woman.”
“And she knew our history and asked you to exploit it.”
“I wouldn’t have done it, except I’m in some trouble.”
“Money trouble?”
“I didn’t set out to lie to you or to hurt Grace.”
“How is saying you’re her father not lying? How could that not hurt her?”
“I was in a pinch.”
“That’s nothing compared to the pinch you’re going to be in if Grace isn’t okay.” Even if she was, actually. Either way Val would make sure the law came down on him with everything it could muster.
“So I take it you were paid?” she said.
“Yes.”
“How did you get the money?”
“It was wired into my bank account when we got here yesterday.”
“Before you delivered Grace?”
“I was just supposed to bring her here, out of Lake Loyal, where she’d be safe. I swear. It was supposed to be the weekend, but you insisted I go now. I wasn’t sure the money would be wired until Friday, but it was.”
“She must have had some way to verify that you were here and had Grace with you. Any idea how she knew?”
He shook his head.
“You better not be lying to me, Mark.”
“I’m not lying.”
Obviously Val was not about to trust him. Ever again. It had taken two decades, but she’d finally learned her lesson. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t her problem. Finding Grace was.
She turned to the officer beside her. “If you need any kind of statement at all, I’ll be more than happy to provide it.”
“You’re leaving?” Mark said. “Just like that?”
“I have to find my niece.”
“What about me? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“That you’ll have to bring up with the D.A. He’s a good friend of mine, and let me tell you,” She gave the bastard a big smile, “when it comes to crimes against children, he tends to be a hard ass.”
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Grace
The first time Grace passed her house, David’s truck was standing in the driveway. At first she’d thought it was still parked there from when Aunt Val borrowed it, then the kitchen door opened and David himself walked out, good as new.
Grace kept driving, hoping he didn’t see her, but she couldn’t hide the big smile. David was her friend, and sometimes she thought he understood her far more than her aunt did. David was also in love with Aunt Val, although he might not know it yet.
And it went without saying that in matters like that, Aunt Val was totally clueless.
Grace drove past the burned up Meinholz farm, then kept going, taking the long loop around the forest preserve and Rossum Park. She pulled into the parking lot there, and watched the wind blow the swings back and forth, back and forth. Song after song played on the radio before she dared to shift the car back into gear and take the long circle back to her house.
This time the driveway was clear.
She parked her dad’s rental car in the turnaround, jumped out of the driver’s seat, and raced for the house. She unlocked the kitchen door, slipped inside, and slammed it behind her. She took the steps two at a time, then ran past her bedroom and down the narrow hall until she reached the closed door of Aunt Val’s office.
Aunt Val was a good cop, and she always liked to say good cops did their homework. Grace was a good student, and every good student knew homework was never done. Not until the bell rang for the final exam.
Grace gripped the cool, brass knob and twisted. It didn’t budge.
Locked.
But that had never stopped Grace.
She reached her right hand up to the trim above the door, running her fingers along the top ridge. There it was, a long, thin nail. She took it and slipped its tip into the hole in the middle of the knob.
Not there. Not there. There. She slipped the point into place, pushing against the mechanism inside until she felt a click. The knob turned.
She ducked inside the office and closed the door behind her. The room was plain and utilitarian, but neat. The gun safe standing in the corner was secured, its combination lock harder to beat than the simple courtesy latch on the door, not that Grace wanted to get a gun. She moved past the desk, and opened the closet’s old, wood accordion doors. Inside, file boxes filled the entire space from floor to clothing bar, each clearly labeled, each filled with horrors Aunt Val never wanted Grace to see.
She pulled the string dangling from the bare light bulb and pored over the listings on the side of each box. The one she wanted was near the bottom.
Her heart raced as she unstacked boxes and hefted her chosen one onto the desktop. Fingers trembling, she lifted the lid. Manila envelopes and file folders were jammed inside. “Transcripts,” she muttered. “Transcripts.”
She found a thick envelope, the writing on the outside a shaky version of her aunt’s careful script, the label written around the time Grace had helped her pore through some of these pages. It had been one of the times Aunt Val had been having trouble with her right hand, back before Grace had found out about the MS. She bent back the clasp and slid out the stack of paper.
THE STATE OF NEBRASKA
VS.
HESS, Dixon G.
She paged through, trying to find the part she sort of remembered, one of the parts she’d gone over with her aunt, looking for something, anything that would give them ammunition to stop Hess, to keep him in prison the first time.
Grace found it and much more, chills skittering up and down her spine.
Years before…
THE STATE OF NEBRASKA
VS.
HESS, Dixon G.
PROCEEDINGS
MR. HART: Miss Krump, I’d like you to know how sorry I am for your loss. I hope you’re feeling better.
DEPUTY COUNTY ATTORNEY MCKENZIE: Objection, your honor. Is there a question here?
MR. HART: I am merely being human, asking how the witness is doing.
THE COURT: Get to your question, Mr. Hart.
MR. HART: I understand you were recently in the hospital. Isn’t that right?
DCA MCKENZIE: Objection. The witness’s medical records are not part of this trial.
THE COURT: Mr. Hart?
MR. HART: I apologize to the court. But I wasn’t referring to the medical records for the incident. I was asking about the police record.
THE COURT: Continue.
MR. HART: Miss Krump, I understand the police were called to your parents’ home last month. Is that true?
MISS KRUMP: Yes.
MR. HART: And an ambulance?
MISS KRUMP: Yes.
MR. HART: Your honor, if it pleases the court, I’d like to enter the police report of the incident into evidence.
DCA MCKENZIE: Your honor, please. What does a police report from a month ago have to do with this case? Miss Krump is not on trial here.
MR. HART: I’m prepared to make that connection, your honor.
THE COURT: I’ll allow it for now. But make that connection quickly and clearly, Mr. Hart.
MR. HART: Thank you, your honor. Now Miss Krump, can you tell us what happened that necessitated a police visit the night in question?
MISS KRUMP: I injured myself.
MR. HART: And what were those injuries? Can you describe them?
DCA MCKENZIE: Your hono
r, the witness is an eighteen-year-old girl. She can’t testify to medical issues.
THE COURT: Please rephrase the question, Mr. Hart.
MR. HART: I apologize, your honor. Miss Krump, tell us in your own words, not in medical terms, how you hurt yourself.
MISS KRUMP: I had cuts here and here.
MR. HART: Will the record show Miss Hart is gesturing to the underside of her left and right wrists?
THE COURT: Go ahead.
MR. HART: I know this is hard, Miss Krump, but can you describe to us how you became injured?
MISS KRUMP: I cut myself.
MR. HART: What did you use to cut yourself?
MISS KRUMP: My father’s razor.
MR. HART: So you sliced the razor blades across your skin?
DCA MCKENZIE: Objection. Your honor—
THE COURT: Overruled. Please answer the question, Miss Krump.
MISS KRUMP: I did.
MR. HART: Can you tell us why you cut yourself this way?
MISS KRUMP: Because I wanted to die.
DCA MCKENZIE: Please, your honor. The trauma of a teenage girl whose sister was brutally murdered has no role in this case.
THE COURT: I’ll make the rulings, Mr. McKenzie.
DCA MCKENZIE: I apologize, your honor. I just wish to spare Miss Krump the stress of testifying to this in open court.
THE COURT: I’m sure your heart is in the right place, Mr. McKenzie, but this is a court of law, so we’re required to follow the law.
DCA MCKENZIE: Of course, your honor.
THE COURT: Mr. Hart? Can you wrap this up?
MR. HART: Certainly, your honor. Miss Krump? Why did you want to die?
MISS KRUMP: Because I killed my sister. Her death, the cuts and burns, they were all my fault.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Val
Wishing to avoid the media blitz that must be hitting the police station about now, Val opted to stay off the radio, instead risking turning on her cell phone to ask Oneida to call the rental car company in case it wasn’t top priority for the Dells PD.
Burned Too Hot: A Thriller (Val Ryker series Book 2) Page 17
