Cold Case Cover-Up Read online

  After testing his ankle, he decided to wait it out. He wanted to be at the top of the embankment, though, so he’d use his upper body strength and his good leg to pull himself to the top.

  However, movement at the top stopped him. He hobbled to the trees and stood waiting and watching as another man climbed down the embankment.

  “Cliff? What’s taking so long,” the man called as he descended. “I heard the shots five minutes ago.”

  He landed on his feet and headed for the truck. Quinn backed farther into the brush, doing his best to disappear into the trees. He released the safety of the gun as he watched the man kneel over his friend’s dead body. His mask was on his head but not pulled down over his face, and Quinn got a good look at the man. Like Clifford Lincoln, this guy was too young to have been alive when the Renfield murders occurred. He looked to be no older than twenty-four. He was tall and lanky, just like the man who’d broken into Dana’s hotel room and attacked her at the hospital, and his hair was blond with a tinge of red.

  He swore, then jumped to his feet and pulled a gun. Marching to the truck, the man looked inside, then scanned the woods. But Quinn knew how to blend in and he was certain the man didn’t see him. He did, however, see the path Dana had made into the woods and headed that way.

  A cell phone rang and the man pulled it from his pocket and answered it. “No, it’s not done. Cliff is dead. I know you wanted it to look like a car accident, but they didn’t die in the crash. I think they ran into the woods.” He paused a moment, then nodded. “I understand. Yes, I’ll handle it.” He ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket. “Fine. I’ll kill her myself,” he muttered, then headed into the brush.

  “No, you won’t,” Quinn whispered as he followed the gunman into the woods, grimacing with each painful step. He’d sent Dana off alone and he was going to make sure this guy didn’t track her down, even if he had to crawl on his hands and knees to get it done. Then he was going to get his hands on that phone and find out the reason whoever had been on the other end of that call wanted her dead.

  * * *

  Dana pushed past brush and limbs as she made her way through the woods. Tears slid down her face and she let them come. She wished Quinn was here with her now. She worried about him alone and trapped. She’d heard gunshots earlier that had startled her, but she couldn’t concentrate on the ramifications of it. She’d left him the rifle for protection, and if she’d learned anything about him, it was that he could take care of himself. She had to believe that.

  But she still had to continue on as if someone was chasing her even if she didn’t know for certain. She’d heard gunshots and there had been two men in the car. Was it possible Quinn had taken them both out? It seemed unlikely, which was the reason for the tears. But she couldn’t think about that now. She had to keep going. She couldn’t quit.

  The leaves crunched beneath her feet, causing her to grimace. Would the sound give her away to whoever was chasing her? Sunlight burst through the overhanging limbs, bathing certain sections in light and casting shadows in others—where a killer could hide in plain sight. The scent of the pine trees was overwhelming and every so often she froze in fear when the scuttling of some animal grabbed her attention. She felt her heart flutter with every sound, as she was uncertain what caused it or if it meant she was being followed.

  Limbs clawed at her face and arms and legs, and her heels sunk into the soft dirt. If only she’d worn sneakers or boots today, but here she was traipsing through the woods in her high heels.

  She stopped and glanced at a tree with a distinctive root section. Hadn’t she seen that one before? Fear wrapped around her, sucking all the oxygen from her lungs. Was she walking in circles? She. Just. Didn’t. Know.

  She picked up two sticks and placed one on top of the other in an X shape. Now she would know for certain if she passed this tree again and if she was walking in circles. She kept going, navigating the leaf-lined ground.

  She trudged on, needing to reach help. The sound of voices caught on the wind and she stopped to listen, hoping against hope it wasn’t the men coming after her. But it was definitely someone speaking. She couldn’t understand who was talking or where the sound was coming from, but she knew someone was close by. Was it the men chasing her? Or someone who would help? She longed to call out for help, but could she risk it?

  She stopped, leaned against a tree and let the tears flow freely. She was scared and lost and by herself. She’d never felt as alone as she did now in these woods. She stared up through the trees to the clear blue sky overhead and suddenly the urge to pray overwhelmed her. She wanted to. She truly did. But God was the one that had placed her in this situation. He’d abandoned her a long time ago, just as everyone else in her life had, and she was through begging Him for help.

  She jerked her head toward a sound that caught her ear. Footsteps. Someone was approaching.

  She ran to hide behind a tree large enough to camouflage her. When she did, she saw the trampled limbs and brush and realized she’d been leaving an obvious trail behind her as she trudged through the woods. She’d left a path for the killers to follow.

  She stood straight and kept still as a figure appeared from the brush. She wished it was Quinn and that he’d somehow freed himself and come to find her. She held her breath as a figure moved to where she could see him. Disappointment filled her as she spotted a man enter the clearing. He was dressed in jeans, a denim jacket, a button-up shirt and sneakers, an indication that he surely wasn’t a hunter in the woods. He’d come here for one purpose—to kill her.

  Another thought pulsed through her. If he was here, then where was Quinn? Did that mean Quinn was dead?

  She remained still as he stopped to survey the area. She hadn’t continued on, so the brush wasn’t tamped down anywhere. He turned and scoped out the area. She held her breath again as his eyes roamed over the trees. She was thankful for the protection of the tree, but she knew it wasn’t too far-fetched for him to realize where she was hiding.

  His gaze zeroed in on where she was hiding. She closed her eyes, hoping he hadn’t noticed her, but when she heard him move her way, she knew she was found. She opened her eyes to see him lifting a gun in her direction.

  She screamed and took off running. He fired off several shots that hit the ground near her. Finally, he rushed to her and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her back before she could escape.

  “Got you!” he cried.

  She clutched his hands as he pulled her to the ground. She couldn’t loosen them. When he let go and kneeled beside her, she struggled to get away from him. He grabbed her arms and pinned her down with his knees.

  “That’s enough,” he said. “No one’s here to save you now.”

  Fear burst through her. This man was going to kill her, but she wasn’t ready to die. She struggled with him but was easily overpowered. He was tall and thin but stronger than her and it would take extreme measures for her to get free. But she had to keep fighting. She wouldn’t give up. Her only hope was to continue struggling and hope she was able to wriggle free and grab something to use as a weapon.

  A gun fired, startling both of them. A moment later, he fell to the ground holding his shoulder. Dana scrambled to her feet and grabbed a sturdy limb to fight him off and only then noticed blood oozing onto his shirt sleeve.

  Behind her, another sound grabbed her attention. She spun around, holding the limb as a weapon as someone emerged from the brush.

  “Dana, it’s me” the man said, and when Dana heard his voice she melted into tears.

  Quinn! He was alive!

  Behind her, the man who’d attacked her scrambled to his feet and took off through the woods.

  Quinn leaned against a tree for support. Only then did she remember his injured foot. He was in no position to chase down an attacker. She was thankful he’d made it this far to help her when she’d needed it.<
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  She tossed down the branch and walked to him. “Are you okay? How’s your ankle?”

  “Not broken, so that’s good.”

  “What do we do now?”

  He was growing pale and she suspected he was in more pain than he wanted her to know. “We continue on. My parents’ house isn’t far.”

  He pushed off and started to walk, but grimaced and slid back against the tree.

  “It’s okay,” she said, touching his arm. “I’ll help you.”

  Dana slipped his arm across her shoulder and acted as a support for him. He leaned into her and limped along. It wasn’t ideal, but she wasn’t leaving his side again until they were out of these woods and out of danger.

  They weren’t very far when he stopped, stood straight and picked up the rifle, aiming it toward the trees in front of them. Then she heard it, too. The rustling of leaves as someone moved through the woods. She remained beside him, ready to fight if necessary as the sound grew louder. Someone was heading right toward them.

  She held her breath as Quinn tensed. He was ready.

  “Quinn,” a voice called and she felt him immediately relax.

  He lowered the weapon. “Over here,” he shouted in return, then put his arm back over Dana’s shoulder and leaned into her.

  Two figures emerged from the brush and she saw it was John and Rich Dawson. Quinn’s father and brother.

  “I came home for lunch and Rich joined me. We heard shots fired and saw the truck off the road,” John stated. “What happened?”

  “We were run off the road, then someone chased us through the woods.” He handed his dad the rifle. “I killed one of them.”

  “What about the others. Are they still out here?”

  “I shot the other one in the shoulder while he was attacking Dana. He ran into the woods that way,” he said, indicating the direction the attacker had fled.

  “Are you hurt?” Rich asked, noticing how he was leaning on Dana.

  “When the truck flipped, my foot was caught. I don’t think it’s broken but it hurts like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Let’s get you both to the hospital, then we’ll talk in detail,” Rich said, moving to his brother and allowing him to lean on him instead.

  Dana was glad not to have to bear his weight, but she found she missed having him close. She felt exposed and alone as he hobbled off with Rich. She glanced at John, who led her out of the woods.

  “Can you at least give a description of the guy this time?” he asked her as they walked.

  “Absolutely, I can.” This guy had messed up big-time now. She’d seen his face and she would never forget it.

  * * *

  Dana chewed on her fingernail as she sat anxiously in the hospital waiting room. She’d already given her statement to Quinn’s dad in the car on the way to there. He’d promised to update her on Quinn’s condition when he knew something. That had been over an hour ago.

  Finally, the doors opened and Sheriff Dawson and a nice-looking woman about his age wearing slacks and a blouse entered.

  Dana jumped up as they approached her. “How’s Quinn?”

  Sheriff Dawson answered. “He’ll be fine. The X-rays showed no breaks.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good.”

  “We identified the first man Quinn shot. His name was Clifford Lincoln. Does that name sound familiar to you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t recognize it. Who is he?”

  “A local man known to be a drug addict. He was twenty-three and already had four arrests for drug possession under his belt.”

  “Twenty-three? How could he be involved with this? He wasn’t even born thirty years ago.” Why then was this man after her?

  “He may have been a hired gun. We need to identify the other guy he was with. Did you recognize him?”

  “No, although he did remind me of the man who broke into my hotel room.”

  “Quinn gave me a description. We’re going to circulate it and we’ll need both of you to work with a sketch artist.”

  “No problem.” She recalled his dark beady eyes as they scanned the woods searching for her. She didn’t even know what she’d done to deserve such animosity from him.

  “Now that we have an identification on the dead guy, we’ll check his known associates to see if we can find anyone who matches that description or anything that might lead us to why he was involved in this. We’re also checking his financials to see if we can uncover any new deposits into his accounts that might lead us back to whomever hired him.” He turned to the woman beside him. “I’m going back to the station. They should have Quinn’s truck towed in by now. I want to see what kind of evidence might show up.”

  The woman held out her hand to Dana to shake. “I’m sorry for my husband’s manners. He seems to have forgotten to introduce me. I’m Clara Dawson, Quinn’s mother.”

  Bill Mackey’s daughter. Dana longed to ask her about her father, things that only a daughter might know, like was her father the type of person to abandon a child? But now wasn’t the time. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Dawson.”

  She waved away the formalities. “It’s Clara, please. Nice to meet you, too.”

  Dana was surprised by the anger that crept up inside of her when she thought about what this woman’s father had done to her. She’d been abandoned. Sure, it might have been to protect her, but how could abandoning a child count as protection? He’d been a sheriff, for crying out loud. He could have protected her himself. She hadn’t even realized how angry she was about that until just this moment, but she was. She wanted answers, but the man who could give them was no longer around and his daughter wasn’t to blame for what he’d done.

  She gave Dana a big smile. “You’re much prettier in person than you are on TV.”

  “Thank you. You’re very kind.”

  She turned to her husband. “We’ll be fine,” she said and he nodded.

  “I’ll go check in at the office then.” He kissed Clara, then walked out.

  “I’m sorry this happened to Quinn,” Dana told her. “I’m sure it’s because of me, because of my investigation into the Renfield murders. Someone is targeting me.”

  Clara took the seat beside Dana. “John told me you were looking in to the Renfield murders. Are you doing a story on it?”

  Dana started to give her the official spiel, but stopped. This was Quinn’s mother and he might have already told them the truth about her. “No, this is personal. My mother died a little while ago and I recently learned that not only was I adopted, but I was also abandoned at a church not far from here. She had a newspaper article about the Renfield murders, a letter from the preacher who I was left with and a handwritten note from the person who’d left me.” She waited to see the woman’s reaction, but she didn’t seem to be putting the pieces together.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I have reason to believe Alicia Renfield didn’t die that night. In fact, I believe I’m Alicia Renfield. That’s why I’m in town, to investigate that possibility.”

  Clara Dawson gave her a skeptical look. “That’s not possible. The baby died in the fire. Everyone knows that.” She looked at Dana, seeming to study her face, then sucked in a breath. She reached out a hand and touched Dana’s chin, lifting it to get a better look at her. “I knew Rene. You do have the same strong jaw and sharp features.”

  Dana felt her heart rise. Someone who’d known Rene said she looked like her. This was the most encouragement she’d had since she’d started this journey.

  “I realize this is all very shocking, but I was found with a handwritten note. Quinn saw it and said it looked like your father’s writing. Do you think he would...?” Suddenly she realized she couldn’t say the words “abandon a child.” But he had. He had abandoned her in the cold, harsh world.

  Clara
seemed to understand her intention without offense. “No, he wouldn’t. If he left Alicia—you—there, he would have made certain someone took you in or he had another plan in place. He wouldn’t just abandon a child.”

  “Why do you think he would do that in the first place?”

  “I don’t know. It must have been something very serious, though. He and my mother used to babysit Alicia. Rene’s parents died years ago and she had no one else. They loved that little girl as if she was their own grandchild. I find it hard to believe he would let her go without good reason. I always thought his reaction to her death was odd. He never cried, and from that day on he was much more stoic than he had been. I thought it was the grief of losing her, of not being able to save her. I remember being glad that Paul’s parents weren’t around to see this happen. It would have devastated them.”

  “Do you think Paul did it? Killed Rene, I mean?”

  Dana could see the struggle in Clara’s face. “I just don’t know,” she finally stated. “I know he loved her. No one knows better than me, the daughter and wife of a cop, that things happen between a husband and wife you’d never expect, but I never would have thought Paul was the kind of man who would flee if something had happened. That’s always bothered me.”

  Dana had heard that sentiment before during her time investigating cold cases as part of her news program. “I suppose it goes to show that you never truly know how someone will react to a situation.”

  Clara nodded. “Yes, you’re right about that.”

  The double doors opened and a nurse appeared and told them they could go back to see Quinn.

  Clara motioned to her. “Why don’t you go in first. He was asking for you earlier, wanting to know that you were okay. It’ll do him good to see you’re not hurt.”

  She thanked Clara, then followed the nurse down the hall to a room. She entered and saw Quinn lying on the bed, his foot propped up on a pillow.

  A grin spread across his face when he spotted her. “Dana, come in. I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine.” She walked to his bedside and he took her hand. “I was worried about you.”