Proof of Life Page 12

  Dennis Green was really Kenny Larson.

  ELEVEN

  Numb with shock, Shanna stared at the two matching photographs. Looking closer, she could see they weren’t exactly the same—age progression could only do so much—but the similarities were uncanny. In her mind, there was no denying Dennis Green and Kenny Larson were one and the same.

  The evidence proving that Brady had been onto something when he’d begun his investigation into the New Beginnings Adoption Agency was chilling.

  Why hadn’t she considered sooner the possibility that Dennis Green was one of these missing kids? Keeping her gaze locked on the photos as if they might disappear, she reached with trembling fingers for her phone.

  Tearing her gaze away just long enough to dial Quinn’s number, she held her breath as she waited for him to answer.

  Sharp disappointment stabbed deep when the call went straight through to voice mail. She took a breath and let it out slowly. “Quinn? It’s Shanna. Call me when you have a minute. It’s important.”

  She hung up without saying anything more.

  Now what? Staring at the proof before her that at least one missing child had ended up adopted by another family, she wasn’t sure how to proceed from here.

  Except that they absolutely had to get the FBI involved. Certainly, the federal government had far better resources to begin investigating deeper into the New Beginnings Adoption Agency. And Kenny Larson’s family deserved to know their long-lost son was alive and safe.

  They’d gone off on the wrong track, thinking that Brady’s death was related to some sort of presumed love triangle. It could be that the mysterious Phoebe was nothing more than some girl who’d flirted harmlessly with Brady during a party.

  But then, why had Anna acted so strangely? In her experience, innocent people didn’t shy away from the police.

  She glanced at her phone impatiently, willing Quinn to return her call. Because now that they had this link, she desperately wanted to see Brady’s notes related to the adoption agency. Kenny Larson had been found, but Skylar, along with dozens of other children, was still missing.

  For a moment, she considered calling her mother with the news. Surely, once the FBI became involved, they’d be able to track down all the adoptees from New Beginnings and solve many of the crimes. They’d find Skylar now, even without knowing her fingerprints were at the crime scene.

  But tracking down the rest of the missing children through the link of the New Beginnings Adoption Agency didn’t solve the mystery of who killed Brady.

  The shrill ringing of her phone startled her, and she reached for it eagerly. “Quinn?”

  “I just picked up your message,” he said. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she hastened to assure him. “Can you get here soon? I want to show you what I found.”

  “You found Phoebe?” he said, his voice rising with excitement.

  “No. But I’m looking at proof that Brady’s roommate, Dennis Green, is Kenny Larson.”

  “Kenny Larson?” Quinn echoed in a puzzled tone.

  “Remember the four-year-old who was taken from the shopping mall about nine months before Skylar’s disappearance?” she asked. “They’re the same person, Quinn. I think your brother was on to something with his investigation into the New Beginnings Adoption Agency.”

  “Stay right where you are. I’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes.”

  Quinn snapped his phone shut and glanced over at his mother. She looked as if she’d aged ten years in the four days since Brady’s death. His heart ached for her, yet at the same time, he couldn’t help wondering if his mother’s grief would be more tolerable if she had the same level of faith Shanna did.

  “There’s been a break in the case, Mom. I have to leave.”

  Fevered hope flared in his mother’s tired, red-rimmed eyes. “A break in the case? You’ve found the person who killed my son?”

  “We’ve found another piece of the puzzle,” Quinn corrected, unwilling to raise his mother’s hopes too high. He glanced at his watch to verify the time. Her mother’s husband, James, would be home in less than an hour. “If you think you’ll be all right here until James gets home, I’d like to go and see where this clue leads us.”

  She blew her nose and sniffled loudly. “All right, but call me as soon as you know anything.”

  He wasn’t going to call her unless he had irrefutable proof, but he nodded and leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Bye, Mom. I love you.”

  “Bye, Quinn.” There was a distinct pause before she added, “I love you, too.”

  Hoping he’d made a little headway in the troubled relationship with his mother, Quinn jogged out to his car, feeling more elated than he had in a long time.

  It occurred to him as he drove quickly back to the university that one way his life seemed to be taking a positive turn was because of Shanna.

  And maybe more so, as a direct result of renewing his faith and renewing his relationship with God.

  Thank You, Lord. Please keep my mother, her husband and Ivy safe in Your care.

  The silent prayer made him feel much better. He parked outside the university admissions office and hurried inside to find Shanna. His heart thudded loudly in his chest when he saw her rise up to greet him.

  Acting instinctively, he embraced her in a warm hug. Time seemed to freeze momentarily as her arms tightened around his waist, hugging him back.

  He could have held her like this forever, but after a long moment he forced himself to release her and step back. “Show me what you found,” he murmured huskily.

  “Look at this,” she said enthusiastically as she resumed her seat in front of the computer screen. He sank into a chair beside her as she refreshed the image.

  Two side-by-side photos took up the entire computer screen, and he immediately agreed with her assessment. The age-progression image of Kenny Larson was remarkably similar to the college ID photo of Dennis Green.

  “This is huge, Shanna,” he said, awed by her discovery. “We have to take this to the authorities. The police first and then probably the FBI.”

  “I know. I didn’t want to call Detective Hank Nelson without showing you first.”

  He glanced at Shanna, surprised by her apparent loyalty. When had the two of them become a closely knit team?

  Since the first night when they’d had coffee together and he’d followed Shanna home, he slowly realized. Somehow, after that first encounter, they’d worked together and managed to accomplish amazing results.

  The proof of those results was staring them in the face.

  “Thanks,” he murmured. “I appreciate you including me in this. I think we should make a copy of this evidence, both on a flash drive and on paper, and take them down to the Chicago P.D.”

  “Good idea, except I don’t have a flash drive.”

  “I do.” He pulled out the one he’d used to download all of the files from Brady’s computer. He quickly inserted it into the university computer and copied the photos. Then he printed them on a color printer. The paper wasn’t photo paper, but the image was good enough, in his estimation, to convince Hank to contact the feds.

  “All right, let’s go,” he said as he disconnected the flash drive.

  Shanna gathered her files and newspaper articles together and stuffed them back into her duffel bag.

  He held the door for Shanna. “I’m parked over there,” he said, gesturing with one hand to where his SUV waited two blocks down the street.

  “I see it,” Shanna said, heading in that direction.

  He stayed behind her, his gaze sweeping the area, looking for any sign of her stalker. Granted, it was the middle of the day, rather than the dark of night, but he couldn’t help thinking that this guy was still following her.

  Last night, they’d been walking along the road when he’d come after her in his car. It could have been a coincidence that he saw her along the road and drove straight for her on imp
ulse, but then again, the stalker could just as easily have tagged his car the night he’d found Shanna unconscious and had been following his car ever since.

  Either way, he wasn’t taking any chances.

  She tucked her overnight case in the backseat before opening the passenger door. He swept his gaze across the area once again, and paused when he noticed a familiar couple standing on the street corner near the commons. The two drug-dealing felons. On the exact same corner, where he’d noticed the small group of kids gathered last night.

  “Shanna, get in the car and lock the doors. I’ll be right back.” He spun on his heel and headed over to where the group of kids appeared to be in deep conversation.

  When he heard the door of his SUV close, he relaxed, knowing Shanna was safe. Quickening his pace, he kept his gaze locked on the kids.

  His instincts were on high alert. He’d bet his last paycheck that a drug deal was going down right there in front of the commons, in broad daylight.

  He was maybe ten yards away when the familiar face of their suspect, Derek Matthews, lifted and looked directly at Quinn. Their eyes locked and, suddenly, Derek broke away from the group, taking off on foot in the opposite direction.

  “Stop! Police!” Quinn shouted, sprinting after Derek. Luckily, the area around the commons was crowded with students, slowing Derek’s progress.

  “Stop! Police!” Quinn yelled again, hoping, praying one of the kids would help out. And suddenly, one of the students did exactly that—stuck out a leg and tripped Derek so that he stumbled and fell, falling face-first onto the concrete.

  Quinn picked up his pace, catching up with Derek before he could jump back up to his feet and take off again. “Don’t try it,” Quinn advised. He knelt on Derek’s back, forcing him to stay down as he wrenched the young man’s hands around his back. “Derek Matthews, you’re under arrest for evading a police officer and fleeing the scene of a crime.”

  “What crime?” Derek asked loudly in protest. “I didn’t do nuthin’.”

  “Then why did you take off when you saw me?” Quinn demanded, patting the suspect’s pockets. “Hmm, what do we have here? Is that marijuana and a pipe?”

  “It’s not mine,” Derek claimed. “I borrowed these jeans from a friend.”

  “Yeah, right. Tell it to the judge,” Quinn advised. If he had a nickel for every time he’d heard that excuse, he’d be a rich man. “Now you’re under arrest for possession. And that’s a parole violation.”

  Derek let out a stream of curses that Quinn ignored. Thank goodness he had his badge, cuffs and gun handy, or this could have ended very differently. After making sure Derek was securely contained, he flipped open his phone to call for back up.

  Before he could dial, though, the wail of sirens filled the air and a campus police car squealed around the corner, lights flashing. Shanna must have called them when he’d taken off after Derek.

  Then he frowned and glanced behind him. Sure enough, Shanna was standing about twenty yards behind him, her phone in her hand. He wanted to yell at her for leaving the safety of the car, but the arrival of two fellow police officers distracted him.

  “I’m pretty sure there was a drug deal going down outside the commons,” Quinn told Craig and Skip, the two guys who’d responded to Shanna’s call. “This guy took off from the scene. I found drugs in his pocket, and his fingerprints have been discovered at the scene of Brady’s murder. Not to mention he has a felony record for drug dealing in Wisconsin.”

  “Well, well, well,” Craig drawled. “Looks like you’ve earned yourself a trip down to the cop shop.”

  “I didn’t do nuthin’,” Derek mumbled weakly, as if he sensed returning to jail might be imminent. “I wanna lawyer.”

  “Can you afford one? Or should we put a call in to the Public Defender’s office?” Quinn asked.

  The pained expression on Derek’s face made it clear how he felt about the Public Defender’s office, but he gave a resigned sigh. “I can’t afford one.”

  “Then we’ll call someone for you.” Quinn didn’t like how lawyers managed to get reduced or eliminated charges for criminals, releasing them back onto the streets, but in his heart he believed in the justice system. So Matthews would get his public defender.

  “Murphy, you’ll need to come downtown with us,” Skip pointed out as he hauled Derek Matthews to his feet. “We’ll need a formal statement regarding exactly what you saw.”

  Quinn glanced over to where Shanna still stood on the fringes of the group and gestured for her to come over. “That’s fine, but Ms. Dawson is coming with me.”

  “Did you see anything?” Craig asked Shanna.

  “Just how the group of kids scattered when they realized Quinn was about to bust them.”

  “We’ll take your statement, too, just in case,” Craig decided.

  Quinn stepped back, giving room to Skip and Craig to take their suspect to the caged police cruiser. He took Shanna’s hand in his as they walked back to his SUV. “I wish you would have stayed inside with the doors locked,” he said.

  “I know, Quinn. But when you took off after Derek, I saw Tanya Jacobs run straight for me, so I took a picture with my cell phone. I thought it might help if we could prove that both of them were there together.”

  “Good thinking,” he praised her. “And I’m glad you didn’t try to follow her.”

  “I was going to,” Shanna admitted. “But then I decided I should back you up instead.”

  Back him up? There she went with that partner mentality again. Except she was a crime-scene investigator, which meant she was far removed from the type of action he faced every day. And his gut twisted at the thought of Shanna being anywhere near the danger he was accustomed to.

  “Shanna, why is it that you keep forgetting there’s some crazy stalker following you?” he asked, trying not to let his frustration show. “I can’t help feeling that guy is going to strike out at you when we least expect it.”

  “I couldn’t leave you to face Derek alone,” she stubbornly repeated. “What if he’d had a gun?”

  He stared at her, not sure what to say. He’d never met a woman like Shanna. One who was strong, stubborn, determined, yet didn’t carry the hard edge that he’d noticed in many female cops.

  The ride to the campus police headquarters didn’t take long. They’d process Derek Matthews’s paperwork there first, before sending him downtown.

  Inside the station, there was the usual amount of chaos. He noticed Shanna looked around with keen curiosity. Before he could take her someplace to sit and wait, Hank Nelson strolled over.

  “Holding out on me, Murphy?” he asked, a glint of anger in his eyes.

  “No, sir. At least, that wasn’t my intent. I’d like to fill you in on everything we’ve discovered so far. But first I need to give my statement regarding the drug bust.”

  Detective Nelson scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll wait.”

  He glanced over to find Craig, but he was still busy with their suspect. Skip was already taking Shanna’s statement so he crossed over to his desk and booted up his computer to write down his version of the events.

  Officer Craig arrived about ten minutes later, just as Quinn was finishing. He printed the document, then quickly went through everything verbally.

  “What made you recognize the suspect?” Craig asked, when Quinn finished.

  “His prints, along with Tanya Jacobs’s prints, were found at Brady’s crime scene,” he admitted. Shanna had finished with Skip and came over to stand beside him.

  “That’s interesting,” Craig murmured. “Okay, thanks. If we have more questions we’ll let you know.”

  “Sounds good.” He stood and looked at Shanna. “Detective Nelson wants to talk to us.”

  She grimaced a bit and nodded. “Yeah, he told me. We’re supposed to meet him in the interview room, wherever that is.”

  “This way,” he said, taking her arm. Hank stood there, still scowling, when they both took sea
ts on the same side of the table.

  So this is what it felt like to be interviewed like a suspect, he thought wryly, when Hank closed the door and dropped into a chair across from them.

  He glanced at Shanna, whose expression radiated guilt, and took the lead. “Maybe we need to start at the beginning.”

  “Yeah. Why don’t you?” Hank asked snidely.

  So Quinn went through everything—Shanna’s stalker, Brady’s notes regarding the New Beginnings Adoption Agency, how Dennis Green was adopted through that agency, discovering Derek’s and Tanya’s fingerprints at the crime scene, looking for Skylar and the mysterious Phoebe, the two attacks on Shanna by her stalker and finishing with their theory that Dennis Green and Kenny Larson were the same person.

  Shanna pulled out the computer image they’d printed at the university and slid it across the table toward Hank. “We thought at first that Brady’s death was related to some sort of love triangle between Anna, Phoebe and Brady, but now we’re thinking the New Beginnings Adoption Agency could be the common factor. They handled Dennis Green’s adoption, placing a kidnapped child with a new family. Who knows how many other kidnappings could be related? My sister, Skylar, was kidnapped nine months after Kenny Larson. Can it be just one big coincidence that her fingerprints have shown up at the scene of Brady’s crime, when Brady’s roommate was kidnapped and adopted, too?”

  Hank hadn’t spoken more than a couple of terse sentences during their long explanation of what they’d discovered. Quinn sensed the detective was still angry, but after Shanna’s passionate question, he sighed heavily.

  “I’m still mad at both of you, but you’re right. This isn’t a coincidence. If we’re dealing with kidnappings that happened fourteen and fifteen years ago, then I need to get the FBI involved.”

  “I promise, we really were planning to come to you with this information,” Quinn said. “The drug deal going down at the corner of the commons distracted me.”