Page 17 of Justice Delayed

“Sure, no problem,” Greg replied. “Everything okay?”

Quentin nodded. “A pressing matter with a current project. I’ll catch up to you at the clubhouse.”

As the other three loaded golf bags into the two carts, Quentin rushed to the paved pathway that circled the course and unmuted the phone. “This had better be important.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands. It sounds like you’ve forgotten who helped you out of that bind you were in eighteen years ago.”

Quentin opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it and reigned in his temper with some effort. No sense in riling up someone who could easily destroy all he had. “You were paid for your assistance. Quite handsomely, I should add.”

“Which is why you’ve managed to stay out of harm’s way for so long.”

Quentin waved as his buddies passed him in their golf carts, waiting until they were well out of earshot before continuing. “According to my calculations, we’re even. There’s nothing left to discuss.”

“Even?” A chuckle that held no mirth crackled over the line. “I think we have a lot to talk about. I see your niece is back in town.”

“Melender served her time.” Quentin quickened his pace along the path.

“We both know your wife is going to hound Melender into revealing Jesse’s whereabouts.”

Quentin stayed silent.

“And we both know digging up that particular body is only going to bring more grief upon your family.”

Quentin spotted a somewhat secluded bench set behind an overgrown leafy bush and made a beeline for it. Too many friends kept passing him in their carts to make this conversation private. He settled on the bench. “What urgent matter do we need to discuss?”

“Your plan to keep Melender Harman from figuring out what happened to Jesse. There’s more than the secret of where your son’s body is buried that could spill out.”

Quentin sucked in a breath, the pain of losing Jesse striking him hard. “I thought there was nothing to worry about on that score.” He had been foolish to think Ruby had let go of her need to find Jesse’s body. Just because she had stayed quiet about it for years didn’t mean she’d resigned herself to never having a place to visit her son. Now he could see she had merely been waiting for Melender to serve her time and get out before relaunching her quest to bring her son home.

“When it concerns your wife, there’s always something to worry about.”

“I’ll do my best, but Ruby has a mind of her own.” Quentin tried not to think about what else might float to the surface if his wife pushed Melender too hard. So far, his niece had done nothing to reveal she even recalled what had happened prior to Jesse’s disappearance, but rooting through the past might bring that memory back.

“Your job is to make sure nothing new comes to light. Because this house of cards will come tumbling down if someone starts fiddling with the construction. Are you ready to pay that price?”

* * *

Brogan hit send ona story about the retirement of a Fairfax City School Board member. His next assignment—to cover tomorrow morning’s ribbon cutting to officially open Potomac Landings, a new mixed-use development with residential townhouses and upscale businesses—meant he had the rest of Monday afternoon free to start digging into Jesse Thompson’s disappearance.

But not at the newspaper office. This was best done away from the prying eyes of his editor and colleagues. With a wave to the receptionist, Brogan headed toward his car. Once inside, he pulled up the contacts list on his phone. Didn’t his old college roommate still work for the FBI? He’d called Tim a couple of times when he’d worked on other investigative stories, but it had been more than a decade since they’d talked. He hit the call button.

“FBI media relations, Tim Nash speaking.”

“Tim, it’s Brogan Gilmore.”

A beat passed. “Brogan, it’s been a long time.”

Ignoring the less-than-cordial tone in Tim’s voice, Brogan plowed on. “Yes, it has been. Would love to catch up with you now that I’m back in the area.”

“That so.”

“I’m working at theNorthern Virginia Heraldthese days.” Brogan continued as if Tim had asked. “I have some questions about an old kidnapping case that I thought you might be able to provide some background on.”

“This is about a story?”

Brogan couldn’t tell if Tim sounded relieved or disappointed that he hadn’t called just to shoot the breeze. He decided the only way to relieve Tim’s hurt feelings was to be completely honest. “I’m not sure if there is a story or not. I really just wanted to pick your brain about the case.”

“You want my advice about an old kidnapping case.”

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