Page 45 of Justice Delayed

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’ve got it under control,” she said, then went down the hallway to the kitchen.

“Your aunt is very nice.” Melender took the lid off one of the boxes and riffled through the stack of papers. “You’re blessed to live so close to the Trents.”

“In some ways, they’ve been more like parents to me since I moved here just over a year ago.” Brogan had stopped hoping Mom and Dad would help him pickup the pieces of his shattered career, but he had been grateful to the Trents for their generosity in opening both their home and their hearts to him.

His phone signaled an incoming call. An unfamiliar number with a local area code flashed on the screen. “Excuse me while I take this call.”

“I’ll go see if Mrs. Trent would like the table set.” Melender slipped out of the room as Brogan answered the call.

“Gilmore.”

“Good evening. Detective Livingston here.”

Brogan stifled his surprise at hearing from the detective so soon after their impromptu lunch meeting, but decided the other man’s greeting didn’t warrant a response from him.

“I pulled a few strings and had copies made of our files related to the Thompson case.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

“The boxes are with the on-duty sergeant at the front desk under your name. I had the bill for the copies sent to yourHeraldoffice email address.”

A small price to pay for getting the information quicker than he had anticipated. Curiosity nibbled around the edges of his elation. “What made you change your mind from lunch?”

Livingston didn’t answer for several seconds. Just when Brogan thought the other man must have disconnected the call, he spoke. “We couldn’t definitively link Melender Harman to the ransom.”

“You think something might have been overlooked in the original case?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve never liked convictions based solely on circumstantial evidence.”

“I see.” But Brogan wasn’t sure that he did.

“But that doesn’t mean I think there’s been a miscarriage of justice in this case. Since it’s a solved case, I don’t see the harm in having you take a look through the files.”

“I appreciate your expediting my request.” Brogan itched to get started on the boxes he already had, but it might be wise to include the files from the police station. He could leave after supper to retrieve them, in case Livingston had second thoughts.

“All I ask is that if you do manage to open a new avenue of inquiry related to the ransom, you’ll do me the courtesy of a phone call before you print the story.”

Brogan wasn’t surprised at the request. Law enforcement always wanted to be kept apprised of anything that popped up related to open or closed cases. “Aren’t you looking into the ransom aspect now that some of the money was found?”

“We are, but, as we both know, people are usually more forthcoming with a reporter than they are with the police.” Livingston said something Brogan couldn’t catch but that sounded like it was addressed to someone else. “One more thing you ought to consider.”

“What’s that?” Brogan moved to the doorway after his aunt called out that dinner was ready.

“Melender Harman might have been involved in the ransom after all. I doubt it’s a coincidence some of the money turned up now when she’s out of prison.” Livingston disconnected the call without a formal goodbye.

Brogan slipped the phone back into his pocket and left the room. He didn’t want Livingston’s warning to be true because he had begun to think of Melender as being more innocent than guilty. He needed to stay impartial in order to write a good investigative piece, but his interest in the case had started to tilt more into helping her prove her innocence than discovering what really happened to Jesse.

ChapterNineteen

Later Saturday afternoon, Melender sipped the large coffee Brogan had thoughtfully brought for her, willing the caffeine to work its magic and revive her sluggish brain. He settled into the chair opposite as she stifled an unwelcomed yawn.

“This is everything from the FBI and Fairfax County Police.” Brogan flipped the lid off one of the boxes. “While you were sleeping, I organized them into folders under each person’s name to make it easier for us to go over.”

“Wow, you must have been up here for hours.” She peeked into the open box stacked with labeled file folders.

“I did have a little help from my aunt and uncle.”

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