Page 34 of Justice Delayed

“I’ve hardly mentioned her name.”

“That tells me all I need to know.”

“I admit she’s an attractive woman, but this isn’t becoming personal.” Brogan ignored the little voice that said he was lying.

Tim shrugged. “If that’s how you want to play it, fine. But remember the last time you got personally involved with a source, it didn’t turn out so well for you.”

* * *

Melender juggledher Frappuccino as she searched for her keys in her messenger bag. She had meant to put them in the outside pocket like always but somehow had dropped them inside.

Stopping in front of her door, she focused her attention fully on finding the missing keys.

“I’ve already called the police.”

Melender jerked her head up to meet the gaze of Mrs. Horner, who nodded toward Melender’s apartment.

“The police?” Melender’s gaze darted from the widow she occasionally exchanged pleasantries with to her front door that now sported a busted lock. Then she noticed the words spray painted in ugly red letters on the outside wall beside her door.

Baby Killer

She turned back to Mrs. Horner. “When?” Her voice failed her, and she gulped her iced drink to clear the clog in her throat. “When did this happen?”

“I heard a ruckus about twenty minutes ago. I peeked out my window to see three men wearing ski masks and gloves leave your apartment.” Mrs. Horner crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t have bothered to call the police had I known who you are.”

Sirens sounded louder. Melender swallowed hard as she struggled to retain her outward composure. She couldn’t fall apart now. It would only give whoever had done this the satisfaction of seeing her gut reaction. Her gaze returned to the letters, the fresh paint running down the side of the wall like blood. “I’m not a killer,” she muttered.

Mrs. Horner snorted. “I called my son after I phoned the police. He Googled you, then told me all about what you did to your poor little cousin. To think I shared my banana bread recipe with the likes of you.” She went back insider her apartment and slammed the door.

A pair of police cars roared into the parking lot. Melender peered over the railing into the courtyard, shoving the fear aside and praying that the officers would keep an open mind when looking into the break-in. But once they found out about her record, they might not be as motivated to investigate.

Squaring her shoulders, she recited Philippians 4:13 in her mind.I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Strengthen me, Lord!

* * *

“Mr. Simpson,I didn’t cause the break-in.” Standing in the middle of her destroyed living room with her burly landlord four hours later, Melender put as much steel into her words as possible, yet she sounded as weak and tired as she felt. If the man continued to refuse to have her door fixed today, there was no telling when she could finally get some sleep.

“You talked with the police, Mr. Simpson. All I’m asking is that you have someone come over and repair my front door as soon as possible.” Melender had been grateful that the responding officers took the break-in seriously and gathered forensics evidence. A detective, Rich Delaney, had even shown up to interview Mrs. Horner and Melender.

Mr. Simpson crossed his beefy arms. “I got complaints about you.”

Cradling her cat close to her chest, Melender couldn’t stop the groan that escaped. “From who? And when?”

“I don’t gotta say, but we don’t need residents like you living here. Get your stuff and get out.”

“You can’t just kick me out because someone broke into my apartment.” Surely her landlord wouldn’t fabricate evidence to kick her out. She drew in a breath to regain control of her emotions. “I signed a year’s lease.”

“I found evidence that you were smoking in the apartment.” He pointed a finger at her. “Your lease clearly states no smoking and that if there is evidence of smoking, your lease will be terminated immediately.”

“I don’t smoke, so what evidence are you talking about?”

With a snort, he pointed to a saucer near a broken lamp and two spent cigarettes. “Before you try to pin that on whoever broke in here, don’t. It’s absurd to think someone would break in and plant smoked cigarettes. That’s crazy talk.”

He maneuvered around the debris to the front door. “You have until midnight to get your stuff out of here.”

Melender barely registered his departure, just stared at the mess of broken and ripped objects.

“Melender?” Brogan called from the entrance doorway.

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