Cold Case Justice. Sharon Dunn

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Cold Case Justice - Sharon Dunn


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knelt beside her. He touched her cheek with his palm. The warmth of his touch seeped through her skin. “I know this plan is not perfect, but I will do everything in my power to make sure you get back to the hospital and get well for your son.”

      “This is above and beyond your job description.”

      He hesitated. “It’s what I need to do.” He dug through his pockets and pulled out a granola bar. “In case you get hungry.” He removed his winter coat and placed it around her shoulders.

      “I won’t be gone for more than forty-five minutes. If anyone does come looking for you, you should be able to hear him coming. Find a place to hide. I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

      How long would it be before Elwood realized something had happened and he came looking for her? “Won’t you be cold?” The sweater Matthew wore looked like it was wool, but it couldn’t totally shut out the November chill.

      “You’re the one who needs to stay warm. Rest. Try to regain your strength. I’ll find a way to get you back to the hospital so you can get better.”

      “Thank you.” Though she doubted she’d be safe in that hospital, she was overwhelmed by the extent to which he had gone to help her.

      Matthew tilted his head. “It’s almost dark. That works in our favor.” He turned on a flashlight that was attached to his key chain and set off, his footsteps crunching in the snow. The noise slowly faded. Rochelle sat in the dark listening for the sound of approaching footsteps.

      Matthew wasn’t wrong. Both accidents had weakened her. She was in no condition to travel, but what choice did she have? She slipped into Matthew’s coat, surprised by how warm it was. The coat smelled like him, kind of a woodsy musk scent. Her heart was opening up to him in a way that hadn’t happened since Dylan’s death. Yet she didn’t trust her own feelings. These were desperate circumstances, and Matthew had made it clear that his concern was only for her physical health and a secure future for Jamie. She didn’t dare read more into his kindness than that.

      Despite her hypervigilance, exhaustion overtook her and she nodded off, grateful for the warmth of Matthew’s coat and for his help. She only hoped he was able to find a way back into town before Elwood Corben’s brand of trouble caught up with her again.

      * * *

      Matthew crossed his arms over his chest to stave off the evening cold. He’d be all right as long as he kept moving. His back muscles ached more than they should have. He’d probably strained them in the accident. He might be sore tomorrow, but he didn’t think he’d sustained much damage.

      So far he hadn’t seen anything resembling a road. He hated leaving Rochelle behind. But he would have done more damage making her follow him around with no clear direction to go. He’d made a tough choice when there were no good choices.

      Rochelle hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she needed to leave town. Clearly, her life was being threatened. Her initial solution had been to run, but she was in no condition for any kind of travel. When they got back into town, he’d have to convince her of that. The police had to provide some kind of protection and find the man responsible for all she had gone through.

      He shone his flashlight all around, still not seeing any sign of a road or an alternate route back into town. He slowed down in his jogging.

      What had he gotten himself into? Rochelle had witnessed a murder. He was in way over his head. Had he been right to trust his gut feeling or had he been impulsive in thinking he had to rescue Rochelle and her son? His sense of duty had to end somewhere. As soon as he handed her safely over to the police, he could step back from all of this.

      He’d had a moment after he’d been knocked down at the hospital that he’d thought to run back to where people were and get a nurse to call the police, but he knew he had only seconds to catch up with Rochelle and her abductor before she’d be lost for sure and then Jamie would be an orphan.

      He checked his watch. He could search another ten minutes and still have time to get back to Rochelle if he ran. The looming darkness made everything look different, but his experience as a hiker had forced him to pay attention to landmarks in all kinds of conditions. He’d find his way back just fine.

      His boots crunched on the snow, and a chill settled over his skin. He walked faster, shining the light in an arc. The silhouette of a structure came into view. He walked toward it and realized it was a house with no lights on. Probably nobody home. All the same, he knocked. He waited, staring up at the night sky, which had grown darker. Stars twinkled down at him, and the full moon provided some illumination. He knocked again, this time louder, praying that lights would come on and someone would open the door.

      He peered in the window but couldn’t see much. The place might not be occupied year-round. There were plenty of vacation cabins out this way. It could be months before the owners came back. There was no garage, and he didn’t see a car anywhere. As expected, when he tried the door it was locked.

      He needed to get back to Rochelle. As he ran, he weighed his options. Rochelle would be feeling a little stronger after resting. They might be able to hike out to the country road where the accident had occurred. They’d have the cover of darkness in their favor, and they could walk parallel to the road until they found a place that was less steep. He stuttered in his step. Not the best plan. He had no idea what additional injury Rochelle had suffered from the second accident and he wasn’t doing too great, either. His best guess was that she wouldn’t be able to walk very far. They would have to hope a car picked them up right away.

      Rochelle had been pretty certain the thug had friends who would come looking for her. Her kidnapper had been in rough shape, but it was probably too much to hope that he would just get a ride back into town.

      Matthew pushed tree branches out of the way. He was getting close to where he’d left Rochelle. He shone the light. He could see where the snow was pressed down and the pile of branches he’d gathered for her to sit on, but no Rochelle. He wasn’t panicked. She might have gotten up to keep warm.

      He followed the footprints in the snow that indicated which direction she’d gone, but they ended abruptly in a dry patch of ground. He was about to call her name when he heard a rustling in the trees, and then a man grunted. He turned off his flashlight and slipped behind an evergreen.

      The crunching of footsteps told him the man was maybe ten feet away. Matthew scanned the darkness. Rochelle must have heard the man coming and hidden somewhere, too. He caught a flash of color as the man walked past him—not the same man who had been in the car accident, not Blondie. This guy was thin. He waited for the footsteps to fade. He could still see the flashlight bobbing in and out of the trees moving farther away.

      “Rochelle.” Matthew’s voice came out in a harsh whisper. His muscles tensed when he didn’t hear anything.

      He angled out from behind the tree and returned to where he’d seen her footprints. He slipped into the forest. When he looked over his shoulder, the flashlight of the thug was coming back toward the clearing.

      He darted through the trees, his feet pounding against the frozen ground. His voice filled with desperation as he whispered, “Rochelle.”

      “I’m here.” She appeared out of the darkness, still wearing his coat.

      He grabbed her hand. “He’s coming back this way.”

      He pulled her through the forest. He could hear the rapid crunching of their footsteps. The light came directly toward them. They’d been spotted. With Rochelle lagging behind him as he held on to her hand, he knew they weren’t going to outrun this guy. He guided her toward some brush hidden from the moonlight by a canopy of trees. They huddled low and close together waiting for the sound of passing footsteps. He listened to the ragged exhale and inhale of her breath. All this movement was hard on her. Moments later, footsteps crunched through the dry snow. They remained still, their shoulders touching, until the noise faded.

      Finally, she released a heavy breath. “I think he’s gone...for now.”

      “We


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