Cold Case Cover-Up. Virginia Vaughan

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Cold Case Cover-Up - Virginia Vaughan


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The last thing he wanted was to direct her radar his way if she really wasn’t on to him. “Private security.” He put away his notebook and handed her a card with the sheriff department’s information. “If you have any further issues or need any more information, call this number.”

      “Thank you. I’ve already spoken to Beverly in your records department. I’m hoping to get a look at the case file, but she assures me it’s an open case and the records aren’t available to the public. Any tips on getting her to change her mind?”

      “Beverly won’t release anything without my father’s approval.”

      “How cooperative do you think your father will be about releasing that information?”

      He knew. Zero cooperation. “I hope you have a plan B,” he told her before walking out.

      * * *

      The next morning, Dana was met with opposition at the sheriff’s office just as Quinn had predicted.

      “The Renfield murders are still technically an open case and we don’t comment to the press on open cases.” Sheriff John Dawson was sharp and clear in his tone. He apparently didn’t care for Dana sticking her nose into his town’s business and he wasn’t going to help her do it.

      She wondered if Quinn had told his father that she’d come to town to drag his grandfather’s—Sheriff Dawson’s father-in-law’s—name through the mud. That wasn’t her intention. She wished Quinn believed that, but then why did she care what he thought? The truth was she was touched by the way he’d stood up for his grandfather. He had a family here and he was looking out for them. She liked that. Her own family had disintegrated when her father was killed. Her mother had lost herself in her grief and work and had eventually sent Dana away to boarding school. They had never regained their connection before her mother’s death last month, but Dana still remembered the times when they’d been a family. When she’d broken up with her boyfriend, Jason, several months ago, she was left wondering if she would ever have family of her own again. She’d been looking forward to marriage and one day soon having children. Jason had shattered those dreams when he’d run off with his physical therapist, and her mother’s death had left her completely alone in the world.

      She sighed. No use swooning over the ruggedly handsome Quinn Dawson. She imagined he was looking forward to one day having a wife and four or five kids and living the small-town family dream. She wasn’t really suited for that kind of life. She glanced around the room at Rich Dawson. He’d already moved up in ranks and she figured he would one day follow in his father and grandfather’s footsteps and become sheriff. Did Quinn have those same ambitions? By his own admission, he’d taken a job outside of his family’s chosen profession. Was there some reason he hadn’t climbed on board the law enforcement career train?

      She felt herself flush. He was right about her. She was always questioning things. Asking too many questions and allowing her thought process to go off in a million different directions. But she was a reporter and that was her job.

      She locked eyes with Sheriff Dawson. “Is this case being actively investigated?”

      “Not at this time. It’s been a while since we’ve had any leads.”

      “Can you tell me when it was last actively investigated.”

      He stood, promptly ending the conversation. “I appreciate your position, but as I said, we don’t release information on open cases.”

      It wasn’t the first time she’d gotten flak from local authorities not wanting to share their records, but she was a little surprised that she wasn’t able to convince Sheriff Dawson to change his mind. Her charm and notoriety almost always worked.

      “Sheriff, the case is thirty years old. Surely, you can make an exception given the age of the investigation. This may very well be a case where fresh eyes can make a difference.”

      “My father-in-law was the sheriff at the time of these murders. I was friends with Paul and Rene Renfield. This town was shaken to its core by this incident. Believe me, Miss Lang, the case has been thoroughly investigated. Two people died that night, a woman and child, but this entire town was affected by it.”

      She stood, too, realizing she wasn’t going to get anywhere with him. He wasn’t open to fresh eyes. But how would he feel if she presented him with evidence that Alicia Renfield didn’t die that night after all? Would he even believe the note had been written in his own father-in-law’s hand?

      She thanked him, then walked out of his office without mentioning the note. If Quinn wanted to tell him, then so be it, but she wasn’t going to share her information if they weren’t willing to do the same.

      * * *

      Quinn heard the commotion in his dad’s office when he entered the deputies’ bullpen. All eyes were on the scene going on inside that office. From the best he could see, Dana Lang was standing up to his father without fear or hesitation. It took a strong person not to be intimidated by his angry glare. John Dawson had certainly been elected as sheriff based on his name and family connections because his curt personality left something to be desired. Quinn turned his gaze to his brother. Rich would be a successful sheriff one day. He had both the investigative skills and the personality to win people over, as well as a wife and kids everyone in town loved. He also had good ideas for the department, but first he had to wait out his father’s retirement or election defeat by another opponent, neither of which seemed would happen anytime soon.

      The door opened and Dana walked out. Quinn set down his coffee as she headed his way, waving and flashing him a grateful smile. “Good morning. Well, you were right. He wouldn’t release them.”

      He gave an easy shrug, noticing how much more put together she seemed today. The coffee stains were gone and her hair and makeup were perfect, but he didn’t miss the puffiness that remained around her eyes—evidence of her ordeal. She was certainly beautiful but he liked her more relaxed look from last night. This morning, she could have just stepped out of the hair-and-makeup department of her television show. “Can’t say I’m surprised. How was everything last night? Any other incidents?”

      “None. Milo offered to transfer me to another room and I took him up on it. I don’t think I would have been able to sleep with those words glaring down on me all night.”

      “I’m glad Milo took care of you.”

      “How about you? Anything else exciting happen in town last night?”

      He gave a slow shake of his head. His shifts were usually free from a lot of drama, but last night had been a snooze fest after he’d left her. “Nope, nothing. Besides your incident, it was all quiet everywhere else, too.”

      “Good, that’s good. Well, it was nice to see you again, Quinn. I’d better be going. I have an appointment at the library with a microfiche machine.”

      “You take care, Miss Lang. And be careful. Whoever wrote that threat knows what case you’re working on and obviously doesn’t like it.”

      She gave him a smile, but he could see she didn’t need to be reminded that someone had targeted her. She’d probably spent most of the night unable to sleep from listening to noises outside and worrying that whoever had broken into her room would return with more than a paint can. “Thanks for the concern, but I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time someone has tried to convince me to stop investigating. I’ll be careful, though. And, please, call me Dana.”

      He watched her walk out and realized he admired her tenacity. She was a tough lady and was determined to see this case through. He knew his grandfather wasn’t involved in the murders, but the image of that note kept running through his mind. If he’d written it, then he had been complicit in abandoning a child and possibly faking her death. Quinn had nearly convinced himself that he’d been wrong about the handwriting and it wasn’t his grandfather’s, but he’d been so sure when he’d first seen it.

      “What are you doing here, Quinn?” Rich asked, coming up behind him, his voice holding a tinge of irritation.


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