Pushed Too Far: A Thriller by Ann Voss Peterson, Blake Crouch Page A

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?”
    He focused on her, his gaze so intense, it was all she could do to keep from looking away.
    “I’d like to have a word with you. Is your lawyer on her way?”
    “Gandhi,” he continued. “I had a lot of time to read in prison. Got to fully understand all that was taken from me. He and I are a lot alike.”
    “You’re comparing yourself to Gandhi?”
    He shrugged and rose to his feet. “You want to talk? Let’s talk.”
    Val stood to the side, allowing him to step into the secured area outside the cell. She gestured to a small room with a short table jutting from one wall and benches secured on either side. Made of coated steel, it came complete with thick rings in the frame for attaching cuffs and leg shackles.
    He sat down, hands and legs free.
    “Do you want to wave your right to an attorney?”
    One side of his mouth crooked upward. “I think I already have.”
    That was easier than she expected. “Why did you go to the high school today?”
    “I was asked to speak. And do you know what I was asked to speak about?”
    She didn’t answer.
    “Justice.”
    “Did you bring a weapon into the school?”
    “A weapon? Why would I do that?”
    He was having far too much fun with the question for her to believe his innocent act. “When you walked in, you had something in your hand. What was it?”
    “Just some construction paper.”
    “Let me guess, construction paper made to look like a gun?”
    “Of course not. It was a harmless piece of paper. Whoever told you it was a gun has quite an imagination.”
    He’d either set the girl up, or convinced her to help him with his charade. “I thought you didn’t play games.”
    “I don’t. Everything I do is very real.”
    “No, me nearly putting a bullet in your head today, that was real.”
    He chuckled.
    She knew Hess had balls. She didn’t realize they were the size of cantaloupe. “Don’t push me. Shooting you would be a treat. I see what you are, what you did to that girl in Nebraska.”
    “You looked at the files? Did you notice any differences?”
    “She was tied.”
    “Very good.”
    “So you could torture her, burn her.”
    “I didn’t do anything. A jury found me not guilty, remember?”
    Okay, she’d keep it hypothetical. “Why does someone do something like that? What possesses them to do something so evil?”
    His lips tightened, and he shook his head. “People deserve to get what they dish out. Eye for an eye. The thief who steals loses his hand, that sort of thing.”
    “Justice.”
    He shot her a wide grin, showing those perfect teeth. “Exactly.”
    “What did that girl do to you?”
    “Nothing. Except suck my dick. She was pretty good at that.”
    Val kept her expression neutral. “She was the thing someone loved the most, wasn’t she? Who was that someone?”
    “And you said you read the police