Twenty-seven missed calls.
Val scanned through the list of numbers, mostly media outlets. There were two from Carla Tiedemann suggesting the woman might be recovering from her shock, finally strong enough to ask about her son. Or maybe worried about the media coverage. One from Harlan. And two from Lund.
Val paused on Lund’s, and a flutter settled in her stomach, and for a second, all she could think about was how nice it would be to call him, unload all that had happened with Grace and with Mark, have him by her side, helping her figure this out, helping her…
She connected to voice mail.
“Hey, Vanilla Shake,” Harlan said. “My guy got back to me about what Mr. Tiedemann had in his bloodstream. How’s that for fast? I told you I’d come through for you. And the winner is Ketamine.”
“Ketamine?” Val said out loud.
“Used for surgery and getting high. You’ve heard of the drug Special K, right? So I guess this means you owe me, beautiful.”
Ketamine. Val ran that idea through her mind. It used to be a big recreational drug some years ago. Made the users feel like they were floating outside their bodies and often impaired memory. It was one of the few drugs for sedation and pain management that didn’t compromise the breathing, like opiates and barbiturates could.
So while Tiedemann was in his trance-like, dissociative state, he could breathe in smoke without a hitch.
Val was about to call Lund, the phone rang. Grace’s name and number popped up on the display.
Val answered. “Oh my God, Grace. Where are you?”
“Aunt Val. Don’t get mad. I found something.”
For a second, Val’s throat closed. “Mad? Honey, where are you?”
“I’m, umm, in Lake Loyal.”
“Where in Lake Loyal?”
“Home.”
“Is someone there with you?”
“Uh, no. My dad is still up at the Dells. I… Um, I… I stole his car.”
“Yeah, I figured.” A laugh bubbled up in Val’s chest, gaining force until she couldn’t hold it back. “Oh my God, you little car thief.”
“Don’t get mad.”
Val pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to control the laughter, but she was too tired, too stressed.
“Are you laughing?”
“Oh, honey. As you can tell, mad is the furthest thing from my mind right now. I’m just so glad to hear from you.”
“I had to get back. I had to check something. Something I remembered. And I found it, too. I know who’s setting the fires.”
“Found what? Who?”
“You said all this might have something to do with Dixon Hess, someone working for him or someone wanting revenge for what he did.”
“What did you find, Grace?”
“I thought about that, the revenge thing, and if that’s what’s going on, I just thought it didn’t make sense to only think about what he did here in Lake Loyal.”
“Of course. Nebraska.”
“Exactly. And I remembered reading something in the court transcripts, the ones I helped you with before, so I went home, and they were still in your office, and I found the part…”
“What did you find, Grace?”
“The girl Hess killed, she had a sister.” Words tumbled over the phone. “And that sister really liked gardening, like super loved it. Her flower garden was accepted into some kind of garden tour that the town did. But the night before the tour, a dog dug up all her hostas.”
“Grace, I don’t—”
“Just let me explain. You’ll see.”
“Go ahead.”
“Well, the girl was upset, crying and everything. And she told her dad. And her dad, he was kind of a jerk. So instead of yelling at the neighbor to keep the dog out of the yard or helping his daughter replant hostas, he killed the neighbor dog.”
Chills shivered over Val’s skin. She knew this story. She’d heard it before from another point of view.
Grace continued. “And that wasn’t all. In the transcripts, her sister got a call from the girl, and she thought her sister wanted to get a ride home from school, and she was mad at the sister for some dumb thing, and so she didn’t answer.”
“I’m not following, honey.”
“Don’t you see? That’s when Hess got the sister. That’s when he killed her. If the older sister would have answered and picked up her sister from school, the girl would still be alive.”
“But what does that have to do with the fires?”
“Well, at the trial it came out that the sister who was left, the gardener, tried to kill herself. And get this, she said she did it because she was the one responsible for her sister’s death. And the defense attorney made it seem like she might be guilty instead of Hess.”
“That’s not the only reason he was acquitted.”
“Maybe not, but it’s the thing that led to the fires here.”
“You lost me.”
“Oh, I forgot. The gardening sister’s name was JoAnn.”
The hair on the back of Val’s neck started to prickle. “But the family’s last name was Krump.”
“Well, yeah. But I did an internet search on that name, and I found a wedding announcement from a while ago, they’re divorced now.”
Hair prickled on the back of Val’s neck. “Her married name is Pender.”
“Yeah…” Grace’s voice dipped with disappointment. “You already knew.”
“No, Grace. I didn’t. It was right in front of me, but I didn’t put it all together.”
“So I figured it out?”
Her Grace, her strong, smart Grace. “You just cracked the case for me, sweetheart.”
Grace
It had been a while since Grace had smiled that hard. She lowered herself into Aunt Val’s chair and beamed at the transcript. “Do you want me to drop the files off at the police station on my way back to the hotel?”
“The hotel? No, wait Grace. Mark had to leave.”
“Why?”
“I’ll explain when I see you, okay? I’ll tell you everything.”
“Is he mad at me for leaving?”
“No. Nothing like that. He just has a few problems.”
“The gambling, right?”
“That’s one of them, yes. A big one. I’ll explain tonight, okay?”
“Okay. So I should just go to the station?”
“Right now, I need you to stay home. Lock the door. I’m going to have an officer come over and stay with you.”
“What happened? What’s going on?”
“We’re going to catch the Milk Jug Firebug, and I want to make sure you’re safe first.”
“Really? Now? Then it will be all over?”
“Then it will be all over.”
Grace and Val traded I love yous, and Grace was positively giddy by the time she hung up.
It would all be over soon, and they could get back to normal. The fires would stop. Dixon Hess would be miles away in a maximum security prison. And Grace could help her dad figure things out.
She stood and opened the office door, wishing she’d asked if going out to the barn to see the horses was okay, but she supposed she could wait until the officer arrived, just to be safe.
It would all be over soon.
She heard a noise coming from downstairs. A small creak, then the soft thunk of a door closing, opening, then closing, as if blown by the wind.
She’d been sure she slammed the door tight, but in her hurry to find the transcript, she must not have even closed it all the way. She needed to lock it.
Grace started down the hall, and paused at the top of the stairs.
Something was wrong.
It wasn’t a sound that alerted her. It was a feeling.
Grace spun around just as a body plowed into her and pinned her, face first, into the wall. “Hey!”
A needle stung her arm.
Grace struggled, flailing, fighting back, but whoever it was held her tight, her cheek pressing into the pebble
d plaster, unable to move.
Then Grace started to get dizzy.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Val
As soon as Val ended her call with Grace, she was on the line to Oneida, Olson, and Pender’s office. The psychologist’s secretary gave her the brush off, something about Pender visiting a patient. But when Val played the cop card, the flustered young woman revealed that patient was Carla Tiedemann and their appointment was at Carla’s cabin in ten minutes.
As luck would have it, Val was only two minutes away. However, when she knocked on the cabin door, no one answered.
She hiked back down the hill to Nikki’s tavern.
McGlade’s car was the only one in the parking lot, and she could hear his voice humming from inside.
Val pulled the door open, cigarette smoke hitting her with the force of a tsunami.
“Breaking the bay mare. Roto-rooting.”
“Okay, that’s twenty-seven.” Nikki said.
“Digging in the dirt, stick in the mud, brownie spelunking.”
“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.”
“Scaling Mt. Brown, the brownie clown, the B-spot…”
Val cleared her throat.
“Backdoor Boogie, poking the brown eye, and there’s also—”
“Hi, Chief.” Nikki said.
McGlade twisted on his stool, a word Val didn’t even want to think about at the moment. “Hiya, Val! I would have missed you, but the chick with no earlobe is a lot more fun.”
“Glad to hear it.” Val snuck an apologetic glance at Nikki, but the barkeep seemed more amused than annoyed.
“Hey Val,” Harry slurred. “You’re buying all these rounds, right?”
“No.”
“But you said you’d take me out for a beer.”
“One beer, McGlade. Besides, I hear you’re rich.”
“Of course, I’m rich. So you’re buying then?”
Val focused on Nikki. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Carla went, do you?”
“The news vans have been in and out all morning. I lent her my car, so she could make her escape, poor woman.”
The media.
Val could just imagine what Carla was going through. No doubt she’d had to turn off her cell phone to end the constant barrage, as Val had. “Thanks, Nikki.”
Val planted her crutches and did an awkward about-face.
“I’ll have another, Nikki,” Harry said, sliding his glass toward the rail. “Val is buying.”
“What do you want me to do with him?” Nikki called after her.
Val opened the door. “Whatever you please.”
When Val stepped outside, Olson had arrived in the lot and was climbing out of his car. After explaining her crutches away as a twisted ankle, she told him about Carla’s flight.
“So if their meeting is off, what do we do? Head to Pender’s office?”
“I suppose.” Val eyed Olson. She wasn’t sure this was the time or the place, but since she didn’t know when she and her sergeant would next get a chance to talk alone, she threw caution to the wind. “Pete, what has been going on with you lately?”
“What?”
“You’ve been preoccupied. I need to know why.”
“I told you it wouldn’t happen again.”
“Are you having personal problems?”
“No.”
“Everything at home okay?”
“Yes.”
“Is it Hess?”
Olson stared at her. “Of course, it’s Hess. This whole town is going crazy because of Hess.”
“What you told me the other day, when we were going through the letters…”
“That I wanted to kill him?”
“Yes.”
“What are you asking, chief? Am I the Milk Jug Firebug?”
Was that what she was asking? The possibility had occurred to her, but even knowing how he felt, knowing he had means and opportunity, Val couldn’t see it.
However, she’d missed the same type of signs before.
“I’m not the Firebug,” Olson said.
She pulled in a deep breath, more relieved than she wanted to acknowledge. “At the Tiedemann house, I asked if I could rely on you.”
“You can.”
“I have to know more. I have to be sure.” With any luck, once they caught up with JoAnn Pender, they’d be solidly on their way to making a case against her. One more day, and Hess would be in his permanent prison home. And that meant Haselow would accept Val’s resignation. Before that happened, she wanted to know Olson could handle the LLPD without her.
“You want to know why I’m preoccupied?”
“Yes.”
Olson glanced around the parking lot, as if afraid he’d be overheard, even though there wasn’t a soul around. “I… I started law school.”
Val wasn’t sure she heard right. “Law school?”
“I’m sick of being so damn helpless. We lock up criminals only for them to use some sort of legal loophole to get out.”
“You’re studying to be a lawyer?”
“Nothing against our friends in the D.A.’s office, but I think it’s about time someone brings a cop’s experience into the courtroom.”
If Val had to choose between any number of explanations for Pete’s recent erratic behavior, law school would never have made her list. “So that’s why you’ve been having trouble keeping up at work? You’re going to law school on the side?”
He looked down, scuffing his shoes in the gravel like an ashamed kid. “Only one class so far, but it’s been harder than I thought it would be.”
Val felt like giggling, not at the thought of Olson passing the bar, but because she’d actually needed to hear he wasn’t a killer. “Well, let’s hope Pender is at her office.”
They were just getting back in their respective cars when a blue sedan pulled into the lot, gravel popping under tires, and behind the wheel was Dr. JoAnn Pender.
“Apparently Carla forgot to cancel,” Val said.
“So, good cop, bad cop?” Olson asked.
“Bad cop, bad cop, if need be.”
The sergeant smiled. “Sounds therapeutic.”
Pender parked at the head of the short trail leading to the cabins. Val and Olson caught her before she started up the hill.
“Dr. Pender? Can we have a word with you?” Val asked.
She looked from Val to Olson and back again, and for a moment Val thought she might make a run for it. Then she took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then let it out. A stress-reduction technique Val employed.
“Chief. I’ve been trying to reach you,” Pender said.
“That’s good, because we’ve been trying to reach you, too.”
“I am on my way to an appointment. But after, if we could—”
“Carla Tiedemann isn’t here.”
“Where is she?”
“Hiding,” Olson answered. “From the media. She’ll have to reschedule.”
“We can talk here, or we can go back to the police station,” Val said. “I have to warn you, though, the station is packed with news media, too.”
“Talk? About what?”
“The kidnapping of Ethan Tiedemann. Where he is now.”
“Ethan? I don’t know anything about that. But I do have some information about the fires.”
“Information?” Val prompted.
“That’s what I’ve been calling you about. I contacted an attorney this morning. He doesn’t want me to say anything without him being present. I need to protect myself legally, my medical practice…”
“We know you grew up in Omaha, JoAnn,” Val said. “We know Dixon Hess killed your sister. We know you blamed yourself, tried to take your own life.”
Her mouth flattened to an emotionless line. “He destroyed my family.”
“And you want revenge,” Olson said.
“Revenge… Me? You think I had something to do with these fires? Is that it? You think I kidnapped Ethan?�
�
“Did you?”
“Of course not.” Pender shook her head like that was the most outlandish idea she’d ever heard. “You misunderstood why I need an attorney.”
“I think we understand pretty well,” Olson continued. “It’s very understandable to want to get back at someone who destroyed your life.”
Pender set her jaw. “I’ve spent my life studying people like Dixon Hess. I’ve written books about them. I’m not going to say I don’t hate him. I do. If I could dissect him like a fetal pig in high school biology class and see what made him do the things he did to my sister, I would in a heartbeat. But revenge? Understanding what made him such a monster and preventing other families from suffering like mine did is the best revenge.”
Olson blew a derisive laugh through his nose. “And him living out his life with three hots and a cot while your sister was tortured to death? That doesn’t bother you?”
“Of course it bothers me.” A crease dug into Pender’s forehead. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “But I wasn’t even in town for most of those fires. Check with my office.”
“Where were you?”
“A conference. I was a speaker. That should be a solid enough alibi for you. There’s even video. And the night of the Tiedemann fire? I was at a dinner in Milwaukee. Over fifty witnesses saw me there. It didn’t end until after eleven.”
Olson jotted down the details. “That would make the timing tight, but still doable.”
“What kind of monster—” Pender shook her head, regaining control. “I didn’t set those fires. I didn’t kidnap anyone. I talked to an attorney, because I might know who did.”
Val exchanged glances with Olson. “Who?” she asked.
“A patient. Someone in one of my support groups.”
“Name?”
Pender hesitated. “Like I said, my attorney doesn’t want me to talk unless he’s present.”
“When you have reason to believe a patient is going to commit a violent crime, you have an obligation to breach doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“The Tarasoff exception.” Olson supplied.
Val glanced at her sergeant.
“Law school. I told you,” he said.
Giving him a grin, Val brought her attention back to Pender. “Arson is a violent crime. There have already been two deaths. If there’s someone you believe is responsible, who might set more fires, you need to tell us.”
Burned Too Hot: A Thriller (Val Ryker series Book 2) Page 18
