Cold Case Cover-Up

by Virginia Vaughan

  Quinn glanced around at the shops on the square. He’d always considered his hometown a safe haven. Sure, they had crime like any community did, but nothing like he’d seen in other towns, other places around the world. He wanted to believe this was all one big error and the rest of the file had been lost accidentally during a purge, or mixed in with another case in error. But his gut was telling him this was all connected. The missing pages. The threats against Dana. The attacks at the hotel, library and hospital. Someone in his town didn’t want Dana Lang digging in to the Renfield case and they were taking measures to make sure she didn’t.

  He headed back to the department to pick up his truck, and dialed Dana’s cell phone as he walked. “Meet me in front of the hotel in ten minutes.

  Thankfully, she didn’t ask questions until she was inside the pickup, buckling her seat belt.

  “Where are we going? You sounded kind of jumpy on the phone.”

  “There’s a secret compartment in the attic space of the shed behind my house. I remember peeking in through the window one time and seeing my grandfather put something up there. He tried to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal, but I’ve always remembered it. I don’t know why I never thought to look to see what he’d placed there. I inherited the house from him when he died. If he kept notes on the Renfield case, they’ll be there.”

  She sucked in a breath, then smiled. “And you’re going to share those with me? Quinn, that’s wonderful. Thank you.” She leaned across the seat and threw her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. She’d caught him off guard in this embrace, but he enjoyed the feel of her in his arms. It had been a long time since he’d been this close to a woman.

  She must have sensed his hesitation because she pulled away from him and quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It was inappropriate.”

  “It’s fine,” he told her, trying to calm the racing of his pulse. He quickly started the engine and drove toward his home.

  “What changed your mind?” she asked as he drove.

  He turned and tried to focus his attention back on the case and on the road ahead of him. “I got a look at the case file. My father had a good reason for not letting you see it. It’s gone.”

  “What’s gone?”

  “Everything. Everything is missing.”

  “How does that happen?”

  “Who knows. I spoke to my father. He said the file was that way when he took office. There were eight years between the time my grandfather died and my dad took office. It could have happened during that time...but then again, I suppose it could have happened any time before that. My dad flagged that file so he would know when someone was trying to look at it. I don’t know if my grandpa took any precautions like that or not.”

  She sat back in her seat, her face showing her disappointment and confusion, just as he’d felt earlier. “All the evidence they collected—”

  “Gone.”

  She glanced at him. “You’re thinking your grandfather has copies, aren’t you? I hope he did.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  “Does this mean you’re finally coming around to believing this all has something to do with the Renfield case?”

  “All I know, Dana, is that someone is targeting you and right now following this trail is the best lead we have to discover who it is.”

  She reached out and took his hand, smiling at him with grateful eyes. “Thank you for including me in this. You didn’t have to.”

  He realized he hadn’t even thought about excluding her. He made up his mind to dig through those files and immediately thought of her. It was an odd but comforting realization. As much as he’d planned to keep his distance, he didn’t want to. He was drawn to her, and it was more than the softness of her skin or the way she smelled like jasmine. It was her spunk and passion for discovering the truth that attracted him.

  He started to tell her not to worry, but his words were halted when he spotted something racing toward them in his review mirror. His eyes moved to the side mirror. The car was on their bumper now and he could tell it was a sports car of some kind. Judging by the grill, an older version Charger.

  “I think we have company,” he said, gripping the steering wheel even harder and bracing himself for a confrontation of some kind. He didn’t recognize the vehicle and this stretch of road didn’t get much through traffic.

  Please, Lord, let them be lost tourists.

  He slowed down, hoping the car would go around them. Instead, it remained on their bumper for several more moments. Dana was silent on the seat beside him. He didn’t even have to look at her to know she was on alert just as he was.

  The car swerved into the oncoming lane as if to pass them. The passenger-side window came down and a figure leaned out. Quinn’s gut clenched when he saw the mask covering the man’s face. He slammed on the gas as the figure produced a rifle and aimed it their way.

  “Get down!” Quinn hollered as the shot rang out, hitting the back of his truck’s bed. He grabbed Dana and pushed her to the seat. “Get your head down.”

  “What’s happening?” she asked. “Who are they?”

  He gripped the steering wheel and kicked into survival mode, swerving on the road to make them more difficult to hit. He glanced out the mirror and saw both the driver and passenger were wearing masks to hide their faces. Another shot rang out, this one hitting the back window. It shattered and sprayed the front seat. “I wish I knew.”

  Dana screamed and covered her head with her hands as she crouched by the seat as best she could while wearing her seat belt. He nearly told her to remove it so she could slide to the floor, but he wasn’t entirely sure he could keep them on the road and she might need it if he couldn’t.

  Another shot rang out. This one hit a tire. Quinn heard the pop of the rubber blow, then the truck veered sharply to the right, sending them spinning. He turned into the spin, doing his best to right the vehicle, but the truck was going too fast.

  “Hang on,” he shouted before the truck smashed into the guardrail and tilted into the air. His seat belt locked as he was thrown forward, and he heard Dana scream as the truck plummeted down the embankment, rolling with each sickening turn.

  FOUR

  Pain shot through Dana as the truck slammed to a stop at the bottom of the embankment. Every muscle in her body ached and the sudden jarring of the crash disoriented her. She groaned and reached to unlock the seat belt. She was thankful for the safety feature that had kept her from going through the windshield, but she was upside down and ready for the world to stop turning. She managed to find the button and press it, falling onto the roof of the cab now beneath her feet.

  Beside her, Quinn groaned, his shock at being jarred obviously beginning to wear off. He was no longer in his seat but was sprawled on the upside-down roof. She saw his seat belt had snapped at some point and sent him reeling. He’d sustained a gash on his head that was bleeding profusely and his legs were trapped under the dash, which had fallen on top of him during the tumble.

  She stumbled toward him. “Can you pull yourself free?”

  He tried one then the other, grimacing in pain with the right. “I can’t. Even if I could, I think my ankle might be broken.” He glanced around the cab. “Where’s my cell phone? Do you see it?”

  She glanced around the mess that was now the ceiling of the cab and spotted his phone. It was crushed. She picked it up and showed it to him.

  “What about yours? Is it still working?”

  Hers had been damaged in her fall down the stairs, but it had still worked. When she found it this time, though, it was damaged beyond repair. She shook her head at him, his face as grim as she felt at this moment.

  “Do you have GPS assistance?”

  “No, this truck is too old for it to have come pre-installed and I never thought I would need to add it since I only use it
when I’m in town.” He pushed himself up. “Look behind the seat. My rifle should be back there somewhere.”

  She found the rifle beneath what remained of the back seat. She handed it to him and he checked it. “It doesn’t look damaged and it’s loaded.” He pushed it into her hands. “Now take it and go for help.”

  She realized his meaning and thrust it back to him. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “You have to. There’s no way I can make it on this ankle and whoever it was that ran us off the road will be coming back to make sure we’re dead. You have to go now. My parents’ house is only a mile through the woods. It’s the closest place around. You can call for help.”

  She was torn with the decision of what to do. She couldn’t leave Quinn, but they had no phone, no GPS and no other way of getting help if she didn’t. He was right about those guys coming back. This had been no mere threat on her life. They’d been shooting with purpose. But if she left, would she come back to find Quinn dead? She couldn’t deal with that.

  “I’m not leaving you,” she insisted, moving to try to pull on the dashboard enough to free his legs.

  “Dana, stop. You have to go.”

  “I said I’m not leaving you.” She pulled at the dashboard again, pressing her weight into it, and nearly fell backward when it moved. She glanced back to Quinn.

  “I think you got it,” he said. He wriggled his leg until his left foot slipped through. Unfortunately, his right foot remained wedged beneath the dash. “I can’t get it free,” he said after several attempts. “It’s just not coming.”

  She tried again, pushing and pulling and putting her weight against the solid material. He used his left foot to aid her, trying to gain some leverage against the heavy object.

  Finally, she stopped to catch her breath. It wasn’t budging.

  He sat up suddenly and looked through the window, then grabbed her arm. “Dana, they’re here. You have to run. Go through the woods. Get help. Even if I could get free, I can’t outrun them. You can.”

  She shook her head fiercely. “No, I’m not leaving you.”

  He picked up the rifle and pressed it into her hands. “You don’t have a choice. Now go.”

  She heard the squeal of tires above them and knew the men had returned, but how could she leave him stranded and trapped with no way to defend himself? She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

  She pushed the gun back to him, making her decision. “I’ll go, but you keep this. You’ll need it.”

  “No, you will. You’re the one they’re coming after.”

  “Yes, but I’ll have the woods to shield me and a head start. You need this to protect yourself.” She jutted out her chin. “Otherwise, we both stay.”

  He grunted with irritation, but took the rifle from her hand. “Go. Head into the woods. You’ll come across a creek. Follow it upstream a half mile and you’ll see my parents’ farm. If they’re not there, break a window and use the phone to call for help.”

  She nodded, taking in the directions. But there was one thing she needed to do before she left him—something she couldn’t leave without doing if this might be the last time she ever saw him alive.

  She leaned in and touched his lips with hers. Tears pressed her eyes. She didn’t want to leave him here alone. She wanted to bask in his presence and let the feel of his arms around her lure her into a happy safety. But she couldn’t stay and they both knew it. “Not goodbye,” she whispered to him. “Just in case.”

  His face was flushed but she couldn’t tell if it was from the kiss or the pain wrenching his leg. “Go,” he said. “Don’t let them find you.”

  She crawled through the broken window shards of the side glass and glanced around. They were at the bottom of a gulley. Climbing the hill and flagging down a car might be easier, but she hadn’t seen that many cars on this road and the men who’d shot at them were now at the top. She could hear them talking, but she couldn’t make out their conversation. She wasn’t sticking around to find out, either. Quinn was right to send her through the woods. She only wished she wasn’t so afraid of what lurked out there.

  She leaned down to see him sitting against the outline of the cab. “I’ll be back for you,” she promised. It was a promise she intended on keeping.

  Please keep him safe, she prayed to God, hoping for once He would listen to her.

  Then she took a deep breath and entered the brush.

  * * *

  The pain in his leg was excruciating. Quinn tried to pull his leg free but still couldn’t. He was glad Dana was gone, but he hoped she wouldn’t take too long to bring help. He was certain the men who’d run them off the road would soon be coming down to make sure they were both dead.

  A noise outside the truck grabbed his attention. He clutched the rifle and tried to turn so he’d have a better position from which to shoot anyone who came for him. Sweat poured down his forehead and pain ripped through his leg as he moved. He tried to slow down his racing pulse and listen. He heard someone out there, the faint sound barely reaching his ears. He scanned the area he could see outside the truck, but it was mostly blocked by the overturned vehicle.

  His thoughts kept returning to Dana. Had it been the right call to send her into the woods? It didn’t matter. It had been the only thing he could do. If she’d stayed here with him, she would have been a sitting target.

  The memory of that kiss floated into his mind and he pushed it back, as far back as he could send it. It had been a warm and glorious moment that had sent his blood pressure spiking with enjoyment, but focusing on that now meant certain danger for him. He had to keep his mind on the current situation and not the one he wanted to repeat very soon...if he made it out of this alive.

  He leaned into his weapon as the sound of footsteps neared him. Arching to listen for a second set of steps, he heard only one. Better for him. Not so good for Dana. That meant she was in more trouble than he’d hoped. Two men had been inside the car. One driving, the other shooting out the window. Where was the other guy? Was he somewhere Quinn couldn’t see him? Or was he after Dana?

  His stomach clenched, and he prayed that wasn’t so. They wouldn’t know yet that she was gone and he intended to keep that information to himself for as long as possible.

  He slid the safety back carefully, quietly. It wasn’t the first time he’d been trapped and had to rely on his instincts and his training for responses. Second-guessing himself never worked. He’d been trained to handle situations like this both during his time with Delta and in his covert security work.

  He had to be careful, though. He couldn’t assume this was one of the men who’d attacked them. This could simply be some hunter walking through the woods who’d come upon the overturned vehicle. He had to wait until the man showed himself and his true intent.

  He held his breath while the man approached. His steps were cautious and slow. Quinn waited for the man to lower himself. Please let it be a friendly face, he prayed, but he prepared for the worst.

  He knew which way this was going when he heard the click of a safety being removed. He took aim and fired his rifle, hitting the man first in the leg then with another shot to the stomach as he fell. Bullets sprayed the cab as the man returned fire even as he hit the ground. Quinn dropped the rifle and lowered his head. He couldn’t move but he took as much cover from the old pickup as its battered and crashed body would allow. When it was over and he realized he wasn’t hit, he sent praise toward heaven. Only God could have gotten him through that without a scratch. He scooped up the rifle and readied it again, but the man on the ground outside his window didn’t reach for his weapon, which had slipped to the ground. Quinn watched him, but he didn’t move to get up, even though Quinn could clearly see the man was still breathing. In fact, he looked to be gasping for air.

  Somehow in all the commotion and bullet fire, the truck had shifted and Quinn’s leg slipped out from benea
th the dash. It hurt like crazy, but he wasn’t sure anymore it was broken. He could deal with the pain, but if it was broken it wouldn’t support his weight.

  He crawled out of the cab and pulled himself to his feet. The man he’d shot was lying on the ground a few feet away. His breathing was heavy and Quinn knew even from this distance that he was dying. He’d watched Tommy go the same way, gasping for each and every breath through the blood pooling into his lungs and knowing each one could be his last. There was nothing Quinn could do to help this man, and he also didn’t pose any further threat. His time left on this earth was nearly done.

  Quinn carefully placed weight on his ankle and his foot didn’t buckle. That was good news. It meant he could at least hobble away instead of being a sitting target for this guy’s partner.

  He walked to the man on the ground, checked the guy’s pockets and found his wallet. His identification listed him as Clifford Lincoln. He didn’t know the name and he didn’t recognize the guy, either.

  “Why did you come after us?” he demanded.

  The man’s grey eyes looked at him, but he couldn’t speak.

  Whoever he was, Quinn doubted he had anything to do with the Renfield case. He didn’t look older than twenty-five or twenty-six. Not even born when the murders occurred. “What did you want with us? Did someone hire you to kill us?”

  The man’s eyes glazed over and he died without answering a single question.

  Quinn picked up the guy’s gun and tucked it into his pocket. He still had his rifle and didn’t know if he would need the extra weapon, but he was taking it just in case. He wasn’t going to take a shot in the back because he’d failed to commandeer a dead man’s gun that someone else had picked up.

  Quinn glanced at the path Dana had taken into the woods. If she’d made it to his parents’ house then help should be on the way soon. He debated whether to follow and try to catch up with her, or climb the embankment and wait on them to arrive.