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

by Ann Voss Peterson

  It was almost dawn when Aunt Val’s headlights turned into the driveway. Not that the time mattered. Grace couldn’t have slept anyway, not if you paid her a million bucks.

  She let the blinds fall back into place and made her way to the door in the dark. Her dad had stayed to watch out for her, but she didn’t want him to have to deal with Aunt Val’s reaction to their plan alone. She knew it wouldn’t be good.

  She grabbed her robe from the hook on the back of her door and slipped into the hall.

  Downstairs, the kitchen door lock rattled. “Thanks for staying so late,” Aunt Val said.

  Grace started down the stairs.

  “You don’t have to thank me. She’s my daughter, Val.”

  “I got that.”

  Just a few steps down, Grace stopped. There was something in her aunt’s tone, an acid bite. And although she should probably interrupt, save her dad from what would come, she didn’t move.

  “It just happened.” Her dad’s voice was low, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to tell you. To explain.”

  “When?”

  “You and I… We had broken up.”

  “So right after my mother died.”

  “Don’t blame Melissa. She was lonely, and you—”

  “Why would you think I blame Melissa?”

  “Um, I—”

  “I don’t blame Melissa for anything. Ever. Tell me you didn’t use her.”

  “It wasn’t like that, Val. It wasn’t. She was hurting. I was scared. We were there for each other.”

  “And when she found out she was pregnant? Where were you then?”

  “In Sudan. She never told me.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “The Hess trial. The news went national, you know. The brave girl who was scarred by a killer. The police chief who destroyed the monster she created.”

  Aunt Val whispered a curse.

  “There you were, and there Grace was, and I knew she was mine. So I did a little digging, found her birth announcement. The timing was right. And your sister, she wasn’t really one to do a lot of dating.”

  “So why didn’t you just call, instead of lurking outside my house last night.”

  “It’s when I got into town and I thought… I don’t know what I thought. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Obviously. And today? You didn’t come to the station, because you still weren’t thinking?”

  “The station was crazy. People in and out. I wanted to talk to you alone, to discuss what we should tell Grace, and I thought you might be home. But then Grace was there. Val, she looks so much like my mother.”

  “She looks like Melissa.”

  “Of course, Melissa too.”

  The room grew quiet, nothing but the old clock’s tick and Grace’s own breathing. It had been a mind-boggling day, and Grace couldn’t seem to catch up. First she met her dad. Now it seemed her dad and Aunt Val…

  She lowered herself to the step. Elbows on knees, she buried her face in her hands, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t feel sad or angry, just like she couldn’t soak it all in, couldn’t make it real in her mind.

  Aunt Val had gotten a call earlier from a psychologist, and Grace couldn’t help thinking that maybe her aunt and her dad should talk to her, straighten out their feelings, like her friend Natalie’s family had. Grace had written down the number, maybe she’d call herself.

  “I want to get to know her, Val. I want to be part of my daughter’s life.”

  “Do you? Do you really? Because this is not a temporary thing, Mark. Grace is precious.”

  “You’ve done a great job raising her.”

  “That was Melissa. Grace has only been with me since she was twelve.”

  “Teenage years. Toughest time in a kid’s life.”

  “Not Grace. She has it more together than I do. She’s done a great job with me.”

  “I want to get to know her, be there for her. Really.”

  Silence again, the clock ticking.

  Grace leaned forward, a little afraid of being seen, yet anxious to know what was going on, what expression was on Aunt Val’s face, what her dad was doing.

  “Grace and I were talking,” her dad finally said, “and we thought it might be nice for Grace to get away, have some fun.”

  “Grace mentioned it.”

  “She’s concerned about her horses.”

  “Of course, she is.”

  “And you.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s what I told her. It looks like you have a lot going on, if the news is any indication.”

  “A lot, yes.”

  “That’s what Grace said. But I think I’ve talked her into going to the Dells. Spending a few days at a waterpark, riding the ducks, go carts, doing tourist things.”

  Grace held her breath. When she and her dad had talked about this idea earlier tonight, she’d been so excited. It would be like a vacation, only she’d be close if Aunt Grace needed her. Even close enough that she could probably talk her dad into stopping home to check on the horses, if she got too worried. But now the thought of going anywhere, even twenty minutes away, made her feel shaky inside.

  “Are you sincere about what you said before?” Aunt Val’s voice was low and intense. “Will you really be there for Grace?”

  Her dad chuckled. “Of course.”

  “I’m not fooling around, Mark. Grace isn’t fooling around.”

  “I know. I know. You don’t have to be so dramatic. I get it. Listen, I’ve made mistakes, but all that was in the past.”

  “Are you still… making mistakes?”

  Grace didn’t know what her aunt meant by that, but it was clear she was referring to something specific.

  “Of course not. All that’s over. I wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Mark. Not this time.”

  “Lie to you? I’m not. I wouldn’t.”

  “You would be with her? At all times?”

  “Yes, that’s the point. I can get adjoining rooms or a suite or something.”

  “You have your gun with you?”

  “My gun?”

  “Do you have it?”

  “Why?”

  “I think it’s a good idea for Grace to get away. But not this weekend. Tomorrow morning.”

  For a second, Grace couldn’t breathe. She’d been so sure she wanted this, equally sure her aunt would say no, and now? Now she didn’t know what was going on.

  “Yeah, yeah, we can leave tomorrow.”

  “Good.”

  “Are you going to tell me why tomorrow? And why you were asking about my gun?”

  “I want her to be safe until after Dixon Hess is sentenced and transported to prison.”

  “Dixon Hess? Has he threatened Grace?”

  Holding her breath, Grace leaned forward so far she was on the verge of toppling down the steps.

  “Hess? No, but I’m not leaving anything to chance. I need her to be safe. Don’t put her name on the room.”

  “You have to tell me more than that.”

  “There isn’t more to tell. Just promise me you’ll protect her.”

  “I’ll protect her.”

  “You promise?”

  “Of course.”

  Grace heard a rustle of a coat then footsteps leading toward the kitchen door. The staircase grew blurry, and she rubbed her eyes with the back of one hand, wiping away tears. Maybe she should go down the rest of the steps, let them know she was awake. But then she would have to act happy, and while she actually was happy, she was miserable, too.

  “Val?”

  “What?”

  “How serious are things around here? How dangerous?”

  “I’m letting you take Grace to the Dells, aren’t I?”

  “Okay. I guess that answers it. Just be careful, okay?”

  Aunt Val said nothing then the door thunked closed.

  Six weeks before…

  THE STATE OF WISCONSIN

/>   VS.

  HESS, Dixon G.

  PROCEEDINGS

  MR. ASHER: Miss Ryker, Grace, how are you doing this afternoon.

  MISS RYKER: Fine I guess.

  MR. ASHER: Do you need anything? Water? A break?

  MISS RYKER: I’m good.

  MR. ASHER: All right then. First of all, I want to remind you that you are under oath.

  MISS RYKER: Yeah, I know.

  MR. ASHER: And that when I ask you a question, you need to answer yes or no. Can you do that?

  MISS RYKER: Yes.

  MR. ASHER: Good girl. Now on that night in December that you were just telling the district attorney about, you also saw your aunt attack Mr. Hess, did you not?

  MISS RYKER: But that’s because he—

  MR. ASHER: Yes or no, Miss Ryker.

  MISS RYKER: Yes.

  MR. ASHER: And that happened outside, in front of the police station, did it not?

  MISS RYKER: I guess so.

  MR. ASHER: Yes or no, Miss Ryker.

  MISS RYKER: Sorry.

  MR. ASHER: It happened in front of the police station, didn’t it? Right in the middle of town and where anybody driving down the road could see, correct?

  MISS RYKER: Yes.

  MR. ASHER: She stabbed him with a knife, didn’t she?

  MISS RYKER: Yes.

  MR. ASHER: And you saw this happen, correct?

  MISS RYKER: Yes.

  MR. ASHER: Can you tell me where she stabbed him?

  MISS RYKER: Um…

  ADA STENGEL: Objection. A seventeen-year-old girl is now supposed to be an expert in anatomy?

  MR. ASHER: If it pleases the court, I’ll rephrase.

  THE COURT: Please do.

  MR. ASHER: When your aunt stabbed Mr. Hess was he facing her?

  MISS RYKER: No.

  MR. ASHER: Interesting. Did your Aunt stab Mr. Hess in the back?

  MISS RYKER: Yes, but—

  MR. ASHER: Just yes or no, dear. You did fine. Your honor, I’m finished with this witness.

  THE COURT: Mr. Stengel? Do you wish to redirect at this time.

  ADA STENGEL: Yes.

  THE COURT: Your witness.

  ADA STENGEL: Grace, can you start by telling us what Mr. Hess was doing when your aunt stabbed him in the back?

  MISS RYKER: He was pointing a gun at me.

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  Val

  Val watched the headlights of Mark’s car reach the end of the driveway and turn left, heading for Lake Loyal. It was the right thing to do, letting Grace go with him tomorrow, giving her time to get to know her father, keeping her away from whatever the hell was happening to their town.

  The house was quiet, only the tick of Val’s mother’s clock and the refrigerator humming from the kitchen. She checked the door locks, and then started up the stairs. But instead of heading to bed, she turned into Grace’s bedroom.

  Earlier, she’d thought she’d heard a noise, considered that Grace might be awake, listening to what she and Mark had said. But her niece was in bed, her back to the door, her blond hair glistening in the light beaming from the hall. And seeing her made Val want to take back the whole waterpark plan, pretend her father didn’t exist, and hole up with her 24/7.

  A GIFT TO CELEBRATE YOUR UPCOMING RELEASE.

  The media had made a big deal over Grace, her scar, her damning testimony at the trial. She was everything they liked, young, pretty, blond, and they played it to the hilt. It was surprising more sickos hadn’t focused on her. The note, the photos, none of that made the threat credible, just as the suggestion that Hess would be released didn’t give credence to the threat of his escape.

  But although Val was willing to risk a lot to do the job, she wasn’t willing to risk Grace.

  Just two more days and he would be in maximum security. And although she couldn’t see what could possibly happen in those two days to set Hess free, she’d be relieved when the day came.

  She’d feel relieved from her doubts about Mark right now if she had the full report from Jack’s private investigator, but one day was hardly enough time. To tide her over until she could get more details, Val had done a little checking of her own before she’d left the station for the hospital. Whatever Mark had been doing with his life in the past eighteen years, he hadn’t gotten in trouble with the law. At least that was reassuring.

  Val didn’t deserve much in this life. God knows she hadn’t given. Not when her mother was diagnosed with MS, not when her sister was dying of cancer. Val had promised herself that Grace would have everything she needed, and she would stick by that promise… even if what she needed was a father… even if that father was Mark.

  Val left Grace’s bedroom door open a crack and slipped into the farmhouse’s single bathroom. She focused on brushing her teeth, washing her face. There was no use in feeling sorry for herself, not when everything in her life had been her choice, the only choice she could make. She smoothed moisturizer over her skin, then padded into her bedroom. Instead of locking her weapon away in the gun safe, she set it on the table next to her bed, and then stripped off her clothes, catching her image in the mirrored closet doors.

  The position of police chief in a sleepy town like Lake Loyal wasn’t physically demanding, but she was careful to stay fit anyway. In addition to daily exercise, her body was free of the stretch marks that so often came with childbirth. Still looking at herself naked didn’t make her feel sexy.

  It made her feel lonely.

  Thoughts of Lund flitted along the edges of her mind. She’d made peace with her decision months ago. But seeing him in the hospital, knowing he was hurt, needing him…

  It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to tie Lund down to her disease any more than she would Grace, but some nights a chasm opened up inside. Sometimes the thought of going through the rest of her life alone made a shiver settle into her body, deeper than any chill.

  She spotted something white peeking out of the top of her bag. The t-shirt Lund had provided to keep her suit clean while the dog had searched for little Ethan.

  She pulled it out of the bag. Even without holding it to her nose, she could smell smoke. Something else, too. Probably whatever laundry detergent Lund used. She’d wash it and return it to him when he got out of the hospital.

  Val carried the shirt to the hamper then paused.

  Stupid.

  Sentimental.

  A reminder of what she could never have.

  She slipped it over her head, its smoky length draping to mid-thigh, then she crawled between the sheets and cradled herself in her arms. She wasn’t even aware she’d been sleeping when suddenly she was awake, heart pounding, breathing hard.

  In her nightmare, she’d been surrounded by fire, swinging a fire ax, dressed only in Lund’s t-shirt, as she was now. The fire grew and grew, until she could do nothing to stop it, nothing to control it, until the whole town burned to the ground at her feet.

  Streams of sunlight filtered through the blinds. She glanced at the clock. Her two hours were up. Any second the alarm would sound.

  Her body trembled with fatigue from the inside out, her mind foggy, her heart beating hard. Her vision…

  She blinked, blinked again, and then rolled her eyes under closed lids.

  It was worse.

  She moved her hand, rotating, but now the tingle only reached to her wrist, numbness claiming hand and fingers. When she stepped out of bed, her bare feet hitting the carpet, her right knee wobbled, as if about to give out.

  The stress, the lack of sleep… She’d done so well for so long, taking her medication religiously, following doctor’s orders, and in just twenty-seven hours….

  She closed her eyes.

  Two more days. Longer if they hadn’t found Ethan by then. The stress would only get worse. Rest was out of her reach. What she needed was divine intervention.

  What she had was will power.

  She rolled out her yoga mat and did a few slow and awkwar
d stretches, then climbed into a lukewarm shower. By the time she walked outside, Grace was already in the barn feeding horses. So Val continued to the barn. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

  Grace threw a flake of hay into Max’s stall. Across the aisle, Bo nickered and bowed her neck, and although Val couldn’t see the rest of her, she knew the mare was lifting one leg in her usual, quirky begging stance.

  Grace tossed the mare her breakfast before turning to Val. “You look exhausted.”

  “That’s the good morning I get?”

  “You couldn’t have gotten much sleep.”

  Val was not going to discuss her health. Not with Grace. If she knew Val was experiencing a serious exacerbation, she would never let her out of her sight. “You didn’t get much sleep either. I hope you have enough energy to go to the Dells with your dad.”

  Instead of the smile Val was aiming for, Grace frowned.

  “I talked to Mark about the waterpark idea last night. You have my permission to go today. You don’t even have to wait until the weekend. How’s that?”

  “I don’t want to go. I mean, I did, but I’ve changed my mind.”

  “He’s really excited about it. I don’t know if he’s ever been to a waterpark, not like the fancy ones up there, anyway.”

  “Aunt Val…”

  “Grace, you need to do this. You could use a little fun.”

  “You’re trying to protect me from something. I heard you talking last night. You even asked my dad if he had a gun.”

  Val leaned against the stall wall, unsure if her weak leg would hold her weight.

  “You want to ship me off, like you tried to do before.”

  She’d tried, all right. And failed. “I don’t know what’s going on around here quite yet, but I’ll figure it out. I need to know you’re safe before I can do that.”

  Grace narrowed her eyes. “You think the fire at David’s farm was The Milk Jug Firebug?”

  “Milk Jug Firebug?”

  “That’s what they were calling him on the news.”

  Great. Now the arsonist had a cutesy nickname. It was only a short jump, and the cable news stations would be sending camera crews.

  And once they learned who had fathered little Ethan Tiedemann…

  “You think he set David’s farm on fire?”

  Val had gone over the preliminary findings last night. She would have to brief the press today. It wouldn’t hurt to brief Grace first, since she’d find out eventually anyway. “The fire is consistent with the recent arsons, yes.”