Page 108 of Justice Delayed

“That’s true.” Melender took sip of iced tea to clear her throat of emotion. A change of topic was in order, or she’d shed more tears. “How did your story turn out? I didn’t have time to look for it before heading to the station this morning.”

His eyes lit up. “Fallon said it was one of the best pieces of investigative journalism he’d read in a long time. It took me half the night to write it, but Fallon had very few edits.”

Brogan wiped his hands on his napkin, picked up his phone, then handed her the device. “Read for yourself.”

Decades-Old Child Disappearance Solved

New evidence points to family coverup; remains discovered on Thompson property.

By Brogan Gilmore, Herald reporter

Infant bones discovered yesterday in the backyard of Quentin and Ruby Thompson are believed to be those of Jesse Thompson, who disappeared nineteen years ago. Quentin Thompson has confessed to burying his son’s body in a rose garden on the property with an alleged accomplice, John Smith. Thompson also said he and Smith conspired to frame his niece, Melender Harman, for the disappearance. Harman, convicted of killing the toddler, served her entire seventeen-year sentence while maintaining her innocence.

Melender skimmed the rest of the article, which contained info they’d already discovered together. “Nice job.” Brogan’s phone jangled, and she handed it back to him.

Checking the caller ID, Brogan said, “It’s Fallon. Mind if I take it?”

“Go ahead.” She munched on a fry, her appetite returning a little. Brogan’s story had gone national, and it was only a matter of time before a bigger news outlet decided to give him another chance. She tried to be happy but couldn’t help the melancholy mood that gripped her heart each time she looked into his blue eyes. Would he even want her to come with him when he moved to the big leagues? Or would she be a liability, given her past? Even though exonerated in the press, she still had a conviction on her record. She didn’t even know how to start getting that expunged.

Brogan sat back and squared his shoulders “Yes, I see.”

Her phone buzzed. An unfamiliar number with a Virginia area code flashed on her screen. The phone buzzed again. It could be a reporter, but something prompted her to answer it. “Hello?”

“May I speak to Melender Harman?” a female voice asked crisply.

“Speaking.”

“I’m calling from the governor’s office.”

“The governor’s office?” Melender’s voice came out in a squeak as a million thoughts raced through her mind.

“Yes. Please hold while I connect you with Governor Conner.” Without waiting for Melender’s acquiescence, the woman clicked off, then a male voice boomed on the line.

“Melender Harman? Governor Blake Conner.”

Melender couldn’t formulate a suitable greeting and stayed silent while the governor continued.

“Quentin Thompson told me the entire story.” The governor’s tone sobered. “You might not know this, but Quentin and I went to high school together. He’s been one of my closest friends for many years.”

Melender held her breath, not sure where Conner was going with this. If they were friends for that long, would the governor believe in Quentin’s guilt?

“I guess you can never really know someone, can you? What he did, I can only chalk up to a father’s grief and fierce protective nature.”

That was one way of processing what her uncle had done. She longed to ask if Quentin had confessed to the map alternation as part of his impetus for framing her.

“But I didn’t call to speculate about Quentin’s motives. I’ve spoken with the attorney general, and we’re drafting an official pardon for you.”

“A pardon?” Melender had hoped her conviction would be expunged, but a governor’s pardon would amount to the same thing and be a more public proclamation of her innocence.

“Yes, your record will be wiped clean.”

“How long will it take?” The question burst out of her before she had time to consider how ungrateful it might sound.

Her query must have amused the governor because he chuckled. “I would be anxious to put all this behind me too. It should be ready for my signature later today. My office will send out an official statement to the press about the pardon this afternoon.”

Melender glanced at Brogan, who appeared to be wrapping up his own call. While her heart didn’t want to help him solidify his return to journalism on a national scale, her head wanted to help him succeed in his chosen profession. “Maybe you could give a quote to Brogan Gilmore with theNorthern Virginia Herald? He’s with me right now.”

“Gilmore? He wrote a fine piece about the case. Quentin said he had a hand in saving his life.”

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