Cold Case Cover-Up Read online

  * * *

  Quinn was on the phone listening to his brother outline everything they’d dug up on Reed Jessup. He opened a text from Rich and saw the face of the man who’d attacked them in the woods pop up on his screen. Dana had been right in her identification. Reed Jessup was definitely their man.

  “I haven’t seen Reed in years. I didn’t even recognize him.”

  “I’m not surprised. He was several years behind you in school and you haven’t been here for his multiple arrests on drug charges.”

  His brother paused. “By the way, Dana said to tell you she’d be by later. She was asking me how you were.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Be careful, Quinn. She’s coming to your house. If you’re not going to tell her then be sure to hide anything that might give it away.”

  His eye went to the photo of him and Tommy taken near a remote village in Libya. They’d worked four contract jobs together in the past five years, after each leaving their respective Special Forces detail. And it was no secret that Tommy Woods had died during the embassy rescue. Rich was right. Quinn kicked himself for not realizing that Dana would zero in on that photograph.

  He hated having to hide this part of his life from her. His time with Delta and with SOA defined him as a soldier and a warrior. He’d given his whole life to fighting for other people, to being away from his home and family for months and years on end. But now he found himself wondering what it would be like to have a reason to return home. To see a lovely, smiling face instead of just his old hound dogs. He’d told himself that seeing Rich with a wife and a family didn’t affect him, but he’d been lying. He wanted what his brother had, but he’d never been able to fathom how to make it work with his wandering lifestyle. A wife would want him home with her, not off in another country fighting for peace.

  Somehow, his mind was already fitting Dana into that role, only she didn’t fit well with his image of a wife and family. He couldn’t peg her as a wife who would sit around waiting for her husband to return home. She traveled with her own work, investigating cold cases and exposing men’s secrets on television for all the world to see.

  He sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. It didn’t matter what his image of a wife looked like because he wouldn’t be going anywhere once Dana uncovered his secret. Only God knew what his life would look like then, and God wasn’t talking to him. No, scratch that. Quinn wasn’t listening.

  He’d spent the past few weeks since returning home grieving his friend’s loss. He’d only met Mike a few days before the attack, but Tommy had been like his brother and Quinn had loved him as much as he loved Rich. He should have been able to save him. Or at the very least, died in his place. He’d left Tommy’s side for only a few minutes during the attack, but they’d been the most important minutes of Quinn’s life.

  No, he had to put the brakes on this thing with Dana. It couldn’t end well. He saw no future with her except the one where she plastered his face all over the country as one of the SOA operatives who’d been present during the embassy attack. He couldn’t allow any more of his brothers to die like that. He had to be there to protect them when it mattered and he couldn’t be there, wouldn’t be there, if Dana Lang learned his secret.

  His bible was sitting on the nightstand. His mornings had once consisted of grabbing it first thing and spending time in the Word, but not recently. He’d placed it there after returning home, but he hadn’t opened it. He didn’t want to hear God’s explanations about why Tommy died and he had lived. He didn’t want to be reminded that it was God’s plan. He didn’t care whose plan it was. He didn’t like it. Tommy had a wife and kids. Quinn had none. It should have been him.

  Quinn heard his brother’s radio cackle and a commotion in the office over the line. “What’s happening?” Quinn asked.

  Rich let out a breath. “We just found Reed Jessup. He’s at the library.”

  “Dana,” Quinn called out, realizing she would be there. “Where’s Jenkins? Is he still with her?”

  He heard his brother’s voice catch. “He’s been shot. I’m on my way there now.”

  Quinn could hear his brother running outside to his car and sliding into the passenger’s seat. When he heard the whir of the siren, he jumped up.

  “I’m on my way, too.”

  “You can’t do anything. You can barely walk.”

  “Dana’s there. I’m coming.”

  He slammed down the phone and grabbed his crutches. He didn’t care if he was injured or in pain. He needed to be there. He needed to make sure she was safe.

  He grabbed his phone again and dialed her cell. It went to voice mail. He didn’t know if that was because she hadn’t yet managed to get a new one after the wreck, or because she was physically unable to answer. He prayed it was the first option.

  God, please keep her safe.

  He made it to his spare car and started the engine. It sputtered and resisted, but finally roared to life. He jammed it into gear and took off, praying that he wasn’t heading into a murder scene. He wasn’t sure his heart could take another loss.

  * * *

  Dana crouched behind a row of books. She put her head in her hands as tears threatened to overtake her. She couldn’t cry now. She had to keep her wits about her if she was going to survive, but she was beginning to become overwhelmed. Who wanted her dead? And why?

  She suddenly realized the person who knew was within earshot. It was a dangerous move to out her location to someone chasing her, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to know.

  “Why are you doing this?” she called out to Reed. “What have I ever done to you?”

  She heard him move, slowly, sure-footed, as he calculated her position, but he didn’t respond to those questions.

  She had others. “Who are you working for, Reed? Who wants me dead and why? You should at least tell me who if you’re going to kill me.”

  He chuckled, a dark, crazy kind of laugh, but didn’t answer her question directly. “I told you why. You’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “So this is about the Renfield case? Someone doesn’t want me finding answers, do they? Why? Did the person who hired you kill Rene and Alicia?”

  She heard movement at the end of the row and realized he was getting too close. She couldn’t keep talking...but how could she not ask when she had the opportunity?

  From outside, the sound of sirens filled the air. She could see flashes of lights as the sheriff’s office arrived on the scene. She heard Reed swear then rush to the window to look outside. He must not have liked what he saw because he spun to address her again.

  “They won’t save you. You’ll be dead before anyone can stop me.”

  She leaned against a stack of books and it gave a little. She realized she had the perfect opportunity to fight back. Pushing at the shelves as hard as she could, she felt them move. A moment later, one shelf hit another then another and that one toppled onto Reed Jessup. She heard him grunt as piles of books rained down on him.

  But she didn’t stick around to make sure it disabled him. She took off running back through the stairwell door and downstairs, and finally burst through the door at the bottom. She was met by at least ten guns aimed her way.

  “Don’t shoot,” the lead deputy stated and she realized it was Rich. He approached her. “Where’s Reed?”

  “Upstairs. I pushed the shelves onto him.”

  He motioned for the others to follow him and they ran past her.

  She watched them enter the stairwell, then she headed for the front of the library. She could see the main floor had been cleared out already. Pushing through the doors, she saw Quinn hobbling toward her on crutches. Finally, he dropped them and rushed to her. She ran to him and fell into his arms. Only then did she allow the tears to come freely.

  “It’s okay, Dana. I’ve got you
. I would have been inside if they would have let me.”

  She didn’t care about that. All she cared about was that this ordeal was over and she was safe in Quinn Dawson’s arms. She never wanted to leave them again.

  She felt Quinn tense and turned to see Rich and the others exit the library.

  Rich shook his head. “He wasn’t there.”

  “He was,” Dana insisted. “I knocked the books over on top of him. I heard them pound him. He couldn’t have gotten up that quickly.”

  “He did. He must have found another way out. I’ve got men searching the building and we’ll start a search party for the perimeter. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

  Quinn squeezed her against him. “Let’s get you out of here. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

  Rich nodded. “Good idea. I’ll have Montgomery drive you.”

  Dana stopped, suddenly remembering the deputy who’d tried to protect her. “What happened to Deputy Jenkins. Is he okay?”

  Rich’s expression turned grim. “Last I heard, he took three bullets and was unconscious by the time we arrived on scene. He’s being taken straight to surgery. They don’t know if he’ll make it.”

  Sorrow washed through her. “I want to go see him. He saved my life.”

  “I’ll keep you updated,” Rich told his brother before heading for a cruiser and climbing inside. The new deputy Rich had assigned to protect her climbed into the driver’s seat, but Dana could tell he would rather be out looking for Reed Jessup than driving them to the hospital.

  Jenkins had been one of their own and Dana knew from experience that Reed had painted an even bigger target on himself by shooting the deputy. In a strange way, that gave her some assurance that they definitely wouldn’t stop until they found Reed Jessup.

  SIX

  Quinn pushed back the curtain as the doctor finished stitching a nasty cut on Dana’s arm. She hadn’t even realized she’d cut it until Quinn pointed it out. It must have happened when she’d fallen out of the car while running from Jessup. She sat up on the hospital bed. She was beat up and weary from her ordeal with her assailant and wanted nothing more than to find him and end this once and for all.

  But she couldn’t relax knowing a good man like Deputy Jenkins was fighting for his life for protecting her. “How is Jenkins?”

  She knew it would be bad news before he even said it. “He’s still in surgery. Things aren’t looking good.”

  Anger rushed through her and she wanted to cry. Quinn took her hand. “It wasn’t your fault. You don’t need to focus on that right now.”

  The doctor finished her arm. “This might be sore, but you’re fortunate it wasn’t worse. I’ll go get your release papers.”

  He exited the room, leaving Quinn and Dana alone. Suddenly, the urge to cry intensified and as tears fell, Quinn pulled her into his embrace.

  “I don’t know what happened,” she stated. “He appeared out of nowhere when we were getting into the car. I thought I would follow up on a lead that might reveal the killer’s motives, but Reed was there. I even tried to get him to tell me who wanted me dead, but he kept that information close to his chest.”

  He used his thumb to wipe a tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry this keeps happening. We’ll figure it out.”

  He was right. She couldn’t spend all her time focusing on Deputy Jenkins, or even on Reed Jessup. She had to press on. “What about your grandfather’s notes? Do you feel up to going to get them now? They might shed some light on who’s behind this.”

  He nodded. “Sure. That’s a good idea. I’ll call my dad and let him know we’re heading to my place. I’m sure he’ll want to ask you some questions later.”

  Once she received her discharge papers, they walked outside to his car and headed to his house. She was aware that the last time they’d made this journey, they’d been attacked and knew he was on the lookout for Reed or someone else coming after them. She grimaced as they passed the area where they’d been run off the road, but this time, no cars tried to kill them.

  They arrived at the house and Quinn led her to the shop in the back. He used a key to undo the padlock, then pushed open the door, revealing a ton of furniture and boxes, all piled on top of other furniture.

  “I’ve kept this locked up since my grandfather’s death, but I helped pack every box of his belongings. If he’d kept files about the case—and I recall seeing him with them—they have to be inside that secret compartment I noticed as a child.”

  He pushed boxes aside until he’d made a trail to the back of the shed, then he grabbed a stepladder. When he discarded the crutches, intent on starting up the ladder, she stopped him. “You shouldn’t be doing that with your bad ankle. Let me.”

  She stepped onto the ladder and pushed at the door in the ceiling until it gave. Inside, she spotted a box containing an accordion folder, a binder and a leather-bound journal.

  “I think this is it,” she told him, excitement bubbling up in her voice.

  This find might hold all the answers she’d been searching for and it had been hidden in this attic for years.

  She pulled out a binder and opened it. “It looks like laboratory reports.” She glanced at one of the pages and excitement burst through her. “It has Rene’s name on it.”

  “Hand it down to me.”

  She passed him the binder then reached for the accordion file and journal. However, as she went to hand them to him, she lost her balance and fell, tumbling backward.

  He dropped the binder and caught her, his strong arms wrapping protectively around her as he lowered her to the floor. She glanced up at him. They’d never been this close before and she suddenly couldn’t concentrate on even putting words together to form a sentence. She quivered as he ran his hands up her arms and she felt a rush of excitement fill her. Never before had being this close to someone felt so right.

  He pushed a strand of hair from her face, his knuckles grazing her cheek. She shuddered at the sudden sensation that rushed through her. She looked at him now, his green eyes warm and bright. She was comfortable with him and he made her feel at home. Somehow, he and this town had wrestled their way under her skin and become important to her. He was someone she trusted, and she didn’t trust easily. She realized that for the first time in a long while she hadn’t given Jason a second thought. And what had seemed like such an intense connection with her ex-boyfriend was nothing compared to the growing feelings she had for Quinn Dawson.

  He didn’t move his hand from her face. Instead, he stroked her cheek, then her lips with his finger. He leaned in close and she knew he was about to kiss her. More than that, she wanted him to.

  But this wasn’t the time or place to be delving into her personal feelings for Quinn. A murderer was on the loose, and she was no closer to proving she was Alicia Renfield than she had been before she came to town.

  She stepped away from him and his arms fell to his sides. “Thank you for catching me,” she said, her voice hoarse with emotion. She cleared it. “I guess we should get this stuff inside so we can go through it.”

  He seemed to understand, not taking offense at her hesitation. He gave her a long, hard stare then nodded and picked up his crutches. She kneeled and returned the contents that had spilled when she’d fallen. She carried them outside, always aware of his eyes on her, watching her every move and knowing that she’d wanted that kiss as much as he had.

  As they headed toward the house, she remembered how she’d felt leaving him alone in that truck and when she’d heard the gunshots. She’d been devastated at the thought that he might be dead and ecstatic when she’d seen him in the woods. Why was she fighting her attraction to Quinn? For the first time in a long time, she was spending time with someone who made her feel appreciated.

  They headed into his house and started rummaging through the files. Most of what she saw looked to be standard evidence a
nd not the smoking gun she’d been hoping to find.

  “These are all lab and autopsy reports for Rene,” he told her. “Looks like pretty routine stuff except for one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “There’s only reports about Rene. Nothing in here for Alicia. If she really died that night, where are her lab and autopsy reports?”

  He shot her a knowing look and she shuddered. One more indicator that she was right.

  The accordion folder contained evidence documentation and forensic information, as well as photographs of the scene. She pulled out one photo and stared at it, gasping at the image of what was left of the deceased woman. She was no stranger to crime-scene photos, but knowing that this victim might be her mother made it different, much more personal. A tear slipped from her eye and she wiped it away. Quinn must have noticed because he gently caressed her arm. “You don’t have to do this,” he told her.

  She had to maintain her composure if she was going to get through this. She had to be detached, because if she examined this evidence like the daughter of a murder victim, she would never uncover the truth. She had to do her best to hold on to her professional demeanor. “Yes, I do,” she said, then continued digging into the information in the folder.

  Quinn picked up the journal and flipped through it. “These are my grandfather’s personal notes on the case over the years.” He stopped and read several pages. “It looks like he never believed Paul was the killer.”

  He handed her the journal. This was what she’d been searching for. Was the reason Bill Mackey had left her at the church mentioned in the pages of this journal? She flipped through pages and pages of handwritten notes, personal thoughts, questions he had about the case and revelations of the man she was sure was behind this entire cover-up. And every page was filled. A rush of excitement overcame her.

  “It’s a lot of information,” she said.

  He nodded. “I told you this case troubled him. He spent years going over it piece by piece. He never forgot about it. My guess is you’ll find entries in there from a few weeks after the murders until almost the day he died.”