Virginia Vaughan - Cold Case Cover-Up

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. Quinn already knew the reason his brother was on edge. She was walking out the door. “Do you have any idea who that woman is?”

Quinn scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I know. I recognized her. Dana Lang. I got called in last night for a break-in at her hotel room. She says she’s working on a story about the Renfield murders.”

Rich was one of the few people who knew about Quinn’s involvement in the embassy attack. He’d shared what had happened with his brother and although he knew Rich wouldn’t have blabbed it, the rest of the family, or even those in town, could easily put it all together. They all knew he’d been gone at the same time as the attack, and they knew his background in Special Forces. Two plus two still equaled four in West Bend.

Rich shook his head. “But you just know she’s here sniffing out a story and who’s a bigger story right now than you? You should leave before it’s too late and don’t come back into town until she’s gone.”

“Great, I’ll be exiled from my own hometown.”

Rich touched his shoulder, pulling Quinn’s attention to him. “It’s better than having your face splashed all over every television in America.”

Quinn thought again about Rizzo and the press he was generating these days. His brother was right. He needed to stay as far away from Dana Lang as he could.

* * *

Dana walked to the library, where her journey here had started. She’d made friends with the head librarian, Lila, a wiry, bespectacled woman in her fifties and the first friendly face she’d encountered in town and, if yesterday’s events were any indication, the only friendly face she would see besides Quinn Dawson. But she wouldn’t be dissuaded. She’d faced opposition before on cases she’d investigated and she’d persevered. This would be no different.

Lila’s face lit up when Dana entered the library. She hurried around the main desk and pulled Dana into a hug. “I heard what happened to you last night,” she said. “Did you get hurt?”

She was a little shocked that the news had spread so fast, but then remembered small towns were notorious for everyone knowing everyone else’s business. “I’m fine. He didn’t take anything. Just spray-painted a nasty note on my hotel wall.”

“I feel responsible since I’m the one who recommended that hotel. It’s normally a perfectly safe place.”

She glanced at Lila and realized she was the only person besides the hotel clerk and the sheriff’s office who knew Dana was in town investigating this case. “Did you tell anyone where I was staying or what I was looking in to?”

Lila’s face reddened and she began stammering. “I might have mentioned it to a few folks when I was getting coffee yesterday afternoon. I’m sorry, Dana. I was excited to have a big-time television star in our town. I guess I was bragging. It felt good to have people think I was helping you.”

Dana sighed as she realized Lila probably hadn’t meant for anything bad to happen to her. But someone had heard what she was up to and decided to take matters into their own hands.

“Do you remember who was at the coffee shop yesterday?”

“Not really. Why?”

“Well, someone heard you. If I can figure out who, I might be able to track down the person who broke into my room.”

Lila’s face flushed. “Oh, well, then I suppose you’d also have to have the names of everyone at the grocery store and the beauty shop and everyone who came into the library yesterday. I might have mentioned it more than I let on.”

Dana smiled past her annoyance and tried to reassure her. “That’s okay. So basically, anyone could have heard about it.” You had to love the small-town grapevine. She tried another tactic. “Did anyone seem overly concerned about me being in town? Maybe someone asked a lot of questions about what I was working on?”

“Everyone was curious, of course, but I can’t think of anyone who would want to do you harm.”

She could see this was a dead end. It didn’t matter who had heard the news—she imagined by this point everyone in town knew it.

“Did you locate the microfiche I asked for?”

“I did. I’ll show you where they’re at.” Lila crossed the main floor and Dana followed her. Microfiche wasn’t used much anymore but Dana was surprised when Lila led her through the side door and up a flight of stairs. She’d expected it to be in an out-of-the-way place, like the basement.

She shot Lila a questioning glance.

“We had it downstairs until a pipe burst last year and flooded the basement. We moved the machine upstairs to a storage closet behind the stacks. It’s a little dark but it’s private. No one should bother you.”

She followed Lila through rows of shelves lined with books until they reached a door on the far wall. Lila unlocked the door and Dana stepped inside. The room was filled with boxes and supplies. In the corner was the microfiche machine with a chair pushed up to it. A fluorescent light flickered overhead, threatening to go out at any moment. Lila was right about it being private. Few people would venture here except by accident. But she’d faced worse circumstances and she wasn’t going to complain. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, Lila.”