Burned Too Hot: A Thriller (Val Ryker series Book 2) Page 3

  Two vehicles stood in the driveway; Grace’s purple Volkswagen and a blue car she didn’t know. Aunt Val’s new Taurus was nowhere to be seen. The door of the blue car opened, and a man climbed out.

  He walked slowly to the door.

  One step.

  Then another.

  He wore dark pants, a red jacket, and had normal length light brown hair, but his face was backlit by the farm light next to the barn, and shadow cloaked his features. His hands hung by his sides, his fingers opening and closing like a gunfighter ready to draw.

  Who was he?

  What did he want?

  Did he know she was alone?

  Her pulse thumped in her ears. A muffled mew came from somewhere in the room, and it took her a second to realize it had squeaked from her own throat.

  She’d had dreams that unfolded this way. Nightmares. They’d started a year and a half ago. The night she’d been cut by Dixon Hess.

  She moved a few inches back from the window, her free hand finding her cheek. Under her fingertips, she could feel the thin ridge of the scar she covered every morning with foundation. The scar she would see in the mirror every day for the rest of her life.

  Trying to slow down her breathing, she forced herself close enough to the glass to take another peek. She knew this man couldn’t be Dixon Hess. The killer was in jail, just having been found guilty of multiple counts of murder among a mess of other charges, and this guy looked too tall besides. This guy was probably looking for Aunt Val. This guy was probably perfectly nice, perfectly normal.

  But what if he wasn’t?

  Grace let the blinds fall back into place. Her hands were shaking. Her knees felt like they were going to give out. She made for the bed, lowering herself to the mattress before groping for her new iPhone in the red glow of the digital alarm clock.

  If Aunt Val was here, she’d know what to do. She would have her gun. Even Dixon Hess hadn’t gotten the best of Aunt Val.

  Fingers trembling, Grace punched the listing for her aunt’s cell phone.

  The phone rang three times then switched over to a voice mail message instructing her to leave a name and number, or in an emergency call 911. Not sure what to do, Grace disconnected the call.

  Was a man at the door an emergency? He hadn’t even rung the bell.

  She moved back to the window, this time bringing the phone with her. He was still there, weaving back and forth on his feet in front of the stoop, not drunk or anything, but looking like a salesman working up the courage to ring the bell.

  What was he doing here? What did he want?

  And where was Aunt Val?

  As if suddenly breaking from his trance, he spun around, walked back to his car, and got in. A second later, the car inched backward down the drive.

  Grace let out a jittery breath.

  Nothing. It was all nothing.

  Then why was she still shaking?

  He backed into the spot she and her aunt used to turn around, then pulled forward, heading for the road.

  Grace stared at the back of his car until he turned left onto the highway, and his lights were swallowed up by thick trees.

  Then she looked back down at her phone, pulled up the notebook app, and typed in the numbers she’d seen. She didn’t know who this guy was, but that didn’t mean Aunt Val couldn’t find out.

  Val

  “You should have told me.”

  Val flinched at the undercurrent of pain in Lund’s voice. Over the past months, she’d wanted to tell him about the little boy more than anything. She’d known how much it meant to him that Kelly’s son was adopted by a good family, that he would grow up happy, grow up safe. “If my only obligation had been to you, I would have. You know that.”

  He frowned, not looking as if he knew that at all. “You were afraid I’d tell someone?”

  “Of course not. But you know it’s not that simple. Carla and Scott were adamant about keeping it quiet. They were very afraid he’d find out.”

  “And you know how close I am with Dixon Hess.”

  Lund’s sarcasm wasn’t helping, but Val couldn’t blame him. She’d kept news of the baby secret before, and it had hurt him. Badly. At that time, he’d believed the child was his. He’d even had DNA tests done to try to prove it.

  Tests that came back negative for Lund and positive for Hess.

  Most men wouldn’t care once they knew the child was fathered by someone else, let alone a homicidal monster. Of course, Lund wasn’t most men. If anyone understood that, it was Val. She also knew that with Lund, the child’s father wasn’t the point. This was about the child’s mother.

  “Obviously I was never worried about you telling anyone,” Val said. “But my hands were tied.”

  Lund looked unconvinced.

  “If I’d told you, what good would it have done? How would it have changed anything?”

  “I could have helped.”

  “How? By camping out in the yard?”

  “If need be.”

  Val wouldn’t put it past him. “I included the Tiedemanns in a security program we have for local businesses. Their house had an alarm system tied directly to dispatch, but it never went off. Between that and regular patrols, I thought…”

  He scrubbed a hand across his face. “You shouldn’t have shut me out, Val.”

  A gust of wind tore a strand of hair free from her ponytail, and it lashed her cheek. She’d had a myriad of reasons to keep the information from him, but he was right. She’d shut him out. Logical or not, all the explanations in the world wouldn’t change that.

  For one brief window in time, Val had been tempted to believe she and Lund could have some sort of future together. On lonely nights, she still liked to think about it, imagine how their lives would be, what they would talk about, how it would feel to be held by him.

  But fantasy didn’t change circumstances. It didn’t change their history or who they were or the hand she’d been dealt. And pining for something that could never be was never her style. “I’m sorry, Lund. I didn’t plan to shut you out. I really didn’t.”

  He nodded, pressing his lips and meeting her eyes as if he understood the obstacles as well as she did.

  Of course, he didn’t. Not really.

  She’d never told him about the multiple sclerosis. Never confessed the real hurdles she faced. And she never would.

  “Can I ask you one more thing?” he said, looking away from her and back to the house. “Did they change his name?”

  “The Tiedemanns? No. He is still Ethan.”

  Was?

  Val didn’t correct herself out loud, but the word hung in the air between them, as oppressive as the lingering smell of smoke.

  When the phone chirped in her jacket pocket, she almost felt relieved at the interruption, until she pulled it out and studied the display. Her niece’s second call. Val must have missed the first.

  “Grace,” she told Lund, bringing the phone to her ear. “Are you okay, honey?”

  “I woke up, and you weren’t here.” Her niece’s voice sounded higher than usual, younger.

  “I had to go back in to work.”

  “What happened?”

  “Everything’s okay.”

  “Then why did you have to work?”

  Grace had a point. The only time Val had to leave the house before dawn was when everything wasn’t okay. Only three months short of eighteen, Val’s niece was grown up in so many ways. She’d always been astute, able to sense every time Val tried to hold things back in order to protect her. Yet a little over a year ago, Grace had been through a nightmare like no kid should ever have to face. Since then, she’d become more afraid, not just for herself, but for Val.

  “There was a fire. But the fire department put it out.”

  “Is David all right?”

  As far as Val knew, Grace was the only person who called Lund by his first name, including her. “He’s fine.”

  “You’re not just saying that, are you? To make me feel
better?”

  “I’m staring at him right now. Do you want to say hi?”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  Val gave Lund a small smile, signaling all was well. “I’ll stop by home as soon as I can, but it might be after you leave for school. There’s no reason to worry though, okay?”

  Silence answered.

  “Is something wrong, honey?”

  “A man came to the door.”

  “Our door?”

  “He didn’t even ring the bell or knock or anything. I just pretended no one was here.”

  There were a hundred reasons not to panic over a stranger’s too-early visit, but Val didn’t waste time rationalizing. If Grace was uneasy, that was cause enough to take this seriously. Val nodded a goodbye to Lund and started for her car. “What time did he leave?”

  “Just now.”

  Val’s mind spun with possibilities. Could someone have mistakenly gone to her house seeking information about the fire? The media might not know Ethan Tiedemann’s biological parentage, but a fatal fire in a small town would stir up interest on its own. Tragic stories had a way of making people forget their own humanity, maybe because it reminded them of it so sharply.

  “It was weird. He was just, like, standing there, and then he left.”

  “You’re sure he left?”

  “He drove down the driveway.”

  The teen’s voice held a tremor that made Val want to run for home. Instead, she located Pete Olson and half ran in his direction.

  “I’m on my way, Grace. You stay inside.”

  “Aunt Val?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Hurry?”

  “Lights and sirens, honey.”

  After giving a quick explanation to Olson and asking him to take over the scene, she raced to her car and grabbed the radio before she even shifted into gear. With grille lights flashing and roads vacant at this hour, Val reached the farm in record time. Even so, Lake Loyal’s newest patrol officer, Ginny Jones, was already in the driveway, her black-and-white blocking Val’s parking space.

  Val parked in the turnaround and got out. “See anyone?”

  “No, Ma’am. I checked the yard. All clear.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”

  Grace met her at the door, and Val folded her niece in her arms, pressing her cheek to the girl’s blond head. She smelled like lavender shampoo, and the tremble in her voice that Val had noticed over the phone seemed to have calmed. She pulled back to arm’s length. “You okay?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Dragging you back here. I know you’re doing important stuff.”

  “Not as important as you.”

  Grace tilted one side of her mouth in a skeptical smile.

  “Really.”

  “Is he still out there?” her niece asked.

  “Nope. He’s gone.”

  “When I first looked out and saw him, I thought….” She breathed a derisive laugh through her nose. “I knew it couldn’t be, that he’s in jail, but I thought it anyway.”

  Val pulled her niece close again. She hated that the girl had to live with the nightmare of Dixon Hess. Hated that her beautiful face was marred by a scar from the monster’s knife. Hated that she’d gone back to picking at her cuticles until they bled, a habit she’d formed when her mother had been fighting her losing battle with cancer.

  “Just a few more days, and he’ll be sent to prison for the rest of his life. I promise. He’ll never hurt you again.”

  “I know. I just… sometimes it’s hard to forget.”

  Val ran a hand over her niece’s silken hair. “I don’t think we’ll ever forget. But he can’t hurt us anymore.”

  Val’s mom’s old grandfather clock chimed, but she didn’t move. The thought that someone had been there in the wee hours of the morning when she was gone made her want to hurt that someone, whoever he was. Barring that, she’d just stay right here, keeping her niece safe in her arms as long as she could.

  A little more than a quarter away from high school graduation, Grace would be off to college in the fall. The days when Val could protect her were reaching an end. How she would manage to let Grace go, Val wasn’t sure. But she would find a way.

  She owed it to Grace. She owed it to Grace’s mother, Melissa. And she had to admit she couldn’t wait to see Grace really spread her wings.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Val couldn’t stop her reflexive flinch. “Fine.”

  “Any symptoms?”

  “Grace…”

  “I care. So sue me.” Grace broke the hug and peered into her eyes. “You look tired.”

  “Now you sound like Oneida.”

  Grace grinned. “You need us.”

  “I need to do my job. And you need to focus on yours.”

  “I have third quarter down cold. What’s to focus on?”

  “Graduation. College. How is the Haselow boy?”

  “More excited about college than I am. I think he might be just eager to get away from me.”

  “Not you, honey. His father. And who can blame him?”

  Grace had been dating the son of the Lake Loyal village president, a nice kid that Val thought must have been either adopted or his mother had an affair, since he didn’t resemble his weaselly, politician father in the least.

  “I know you’re trying to change the subject, get my mind off the guy who was here.”

  “Is that so bad?”

  “I almost forgot.” Grace pulled her phone from her pocket, called up her notebook app, and handed it to Val. “I saw the car’s license number.”

  Val smiled and copied the number to a slip of paper. “You’re amazing.”

  “You trained me well.”

  “Apparently there are positive things that come from having an aunt in law enforcement?” God knew there had been enough on the negative side of the leger.

  “A lot of positive things. Like I feel safe now.”

  Not wanting to let her niece out of her sight, Val accompanied her to the barn, and while Grace fed their three horses, Val called the station.

  Oneida answered. “Is Grace all right?”

  “She’s fine. She got the guy’s license number.” Val recited the number for the dispatcher. “Get back to me as soon as you can on this, okay?”

  “Will do. You have a couple of hours before the cadaver dog will arrive. Take the time. Rest. I don’t want to have to carry your sorry, tired ass all day long. It’s going to be a busy one. The media doesn’t seem satisfied with the usual continuing investigation line. They all want a direct quote from our superhero chief, so you’d better rest up and iron your cape.”

  “Just run the plate and let me know.” Val ended the call. She wasn’t kidding about her niece resembling Oneida. Both liked to hover. Grace unfortunately knew about Val’s condition, the only person other than Val’s doctor. Oneida didn’t know, couldn’t know, but sometimes her observations were uncannily accurate.

  While Grace changed into school clothes, Val grabbed a quick shower. Then took time to blow dry her hair half way, dash on a bit of makeup, and change into a pant suit she wore for court and the occasional official duty where she needed to look like someone large and in charge.

  When she got back downstairs, Grace had already fried her an egg. Val forced herself to eat it while she checked the weather forecast. Another day with no rain, making this one of the driest springs on record. More normal for Wisconsin were the gusting winds and temp that had yet to climb above freezing.

  Val had just decided to drive Grace to the station rather than school and was waiting for her niece to finish dabbing makeup on her scar when her cell phone rang. Val stepped outside the door and answered. “What do you have for me?”

  “Good morning to you, too,” Oneida said. “The car is a rental. Picked up at the airport in Madison.”

  “Do you have a name?”

  “Of course, I have a name. It’s me you’re talkin
g to.”

  “Care to share?”

  “And the winner is…” Oneida paused. “Mark Sheridan, M.D.”

  Val froze. All around her, birds twittered, the first she’d heard since last fall. A rabbit scampered across the drive and disappeared behind the horse barn.

  “Chief? You know him?”

  She didn’t answer, her mouth as dry as the earth under her feet.

  “His home address is Chicago. You knew him back when you lived there? What brings him to Wisconsin, I wonder.”

  “Oneida…”

  “Fine. Just one question. Who is he to you?”

  That Val could answer. “Someone I never want to see again.”

  Chapter

  Four

  Val

  How Val got off the phone without succumbing to Oneida’s usual interrogation was a miracle she’d never fully understand. A relief, that is, until she contemplated the next phone call she had to make and the ugly truth about herself that it forced her to face.

  Every time Val had been in need, her friend Jacqueline “Jack” Daniels had been there, back when they’d worked together in the Chicago PD and more recently when Val had needed a safe place for Grace to stay.

  On the other hand, Val had never been there for Jack. And not seeing her friend through the tumult she’d weathered last fall had been one of Val’s biggest regrets.

  And now she was about to ask Jack for help again.

  Val pulled up her friend’s profile in her cell phone three times before she finally mustered the guts to call.

  “Hi, Val.”

  “Jack? How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She didn’t sound fine, but it seemed worthless to point that out. How fine would anyone be after losing first her fiancé and then her career?

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it down for Latham’s funeral. I’m even sorrier I’ve let months go by before calling.”

  “If there’s anyone who understands why you couldn’t be here, it’s me. The Hess trial and everything leading up to it made national news, you know.”

  “But still, I’m—”

  “What’s up?” Jack cut in, obviously not in the mood to chat, but then, neither Jack nor Val was prone to casual chatting.