Page 106 of Justice Delayed

ChapterForty-Three

An hour later, Brogan still didn’t want to let go of Melender. The visual of Smith with a gun, Quentin bleeding on the floor, and Melender held hostage had faded, but the emotions pulsating throughout his body had not. He’d guided her to an old stone garden bench pushed against one wall and sat, tugging her down beside him. Now she rested against him with her head buried in his shoulder and her arms around his waist. All the tension of the past few hours drained away as he held Melender close. Paramedics had whisked Quentin to the hospital, but cops and crime scene technicians milled about processing the scene while he and Melender nestled in a cocoon of relief. Brogan used the oasis to thank God for her safety and for Quentin to recover.

“Brogan?”

He lifted his head to see Livingston. “Hey.”

“How is she?” The detective spoke softly.

Brogan glanced down at Melender, who had closed her eyes. Her breathing had slowed to a steady cadence. “Okay, I think.”

“She asleep?”

“Maybe.” Brogan didn’t want to move to find out, content with the warmth of her body so close to his. He brushed his hand down her back over the long single braid, the gesture more intimate than he’d intended, but he found himself not caring what Livingston thought.

“You two need to give statements, but given everything’s that happened, I’m sending you both home for the night.”

Brogan nodded his thanks.

“Come by the station in the morning, say ten o’clock, to give your statements. I know you have questions, so we can address those tomorrow too.” Livingston pulled out his phone. “Excuse me. I’ve got to take this call.”

As Livingston left, Seth approached. “Hey.”

“What did Fallon say?” Brogan had asked his colleague to update their editor on the evening’s events.

“He’s waiting for your story.” Seth bounced lightly on his toes. “I got some amazing shots with my phone, and statements from the police.”

“Great.” He shifted slightly and accidentally jostled Melender, who lifted her head.

“Brogan?” The breathy tone of her voice sent his pulse racing. As he looked down at her mouth, the desire to kiss her nearly overwhelmed him.

Brogan yanked his gaze from her lips. “Let’s go home.” Brogan helped her upright even though he longed to pull her closer. Later, Lord willing, there would be a more opportune time for a kiss.

“Don’t we need to give statements to the police?” She hid a yawn behind her hand, then stretched her arms. A shadow of pain crossed her face as she put a hand on her shoulder, sharply reminding Brogan of all she had been through these past hours.

“Livingston said we could come to the station in the morning.” Brogan rose, extending his hand to her. “Come on. Seth will drive us back to the Trents.”

“Okay.” She accepted his assistance, tucking her hand in his. Once standing, Brogan drew her hand through the crook of his arm to pull her closer. “Hi, Seth.”

“Hello, Melender. I’m glad you’re okay.” Seth smiled, then led the way through the throng of police officers and crime scene technicians.

Brogan skirted the blood stain covering the middle of the floor. “Any word on how Quentin’s doing?”

“He’s at the hospital,” Seth said.

Brogan kept Melender close as they walked into the cooler night air. A full moon shone brightly above the treetops. The moonlight picked up the silvery highlights of her hair. Brogan made a mental note to take Melender on a walk during the next full moon when he could take full advantage of the romantic atmosphere.

“Is Smith his real name?” Melender asked as they paused for Seth to chirp open the car.

“Ironically, yes.” Brogan opened the back door for Melender, then climbed in beside her.

Seth got behind the wheel and started the car. “Gonna treat me like an Uber driver, eh?”

“Yep.” Brogan fastened his seatbelt.

Melender clicked hers into place. “Did you know Smith used to work for a senator?”

Brogan nodded. “Senator Johnston of Virginia.”

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