Page 47 of Justice Delayed

Delaney: Of course we do. But you want to help us find your little brother, don’t you?

Jared: Half-brother.

Livingston: What did you think of him?

Jared:He was okay, cried a lot when he was born, but he didn’t do much. Just crawled around and whined. Only time Jesse and Jillian were quiet was when Mel sang.

Delaney: Melender Harman, your cousin?

Jared:I guess.

Delaney:Did she sing to your younger siblings a lot?

Jared:All the time. There’s something about her voice.

Delaney: What do you mean?

Jared:I tried to get her to sing for a buddy of mine who knows some people in the music industry, you know, but she said her voice wasn’t for sale. Crazy. I brought him over one time, and we hid behind the pool shed when we saw her go into the wooded area in the back of the lot. She used to climb this oak tree and sing when she thought no one was around. When my buddy heard her sing, he wanted to come back and record it. But then Jesse went missing, and that ended that.

Livingston:Where did you go that evening?

Melender played with the tail of her braid when she finished reading the rest of Jared’s police interview. Not once did her cousin mention that Ruby and Quentin left him in charge of his half-siblings the night Jesse went missing. Melender had been at a graduation party hosted by one of her classmates, who happened to live a few streets over from the Thompsons. Funny how Melender had never considered her aunt and uncle’s home her own. In her mind, it was always “the Thompson house.” Her home was a little log cabin tucked into a hollow with a breathtaking view of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

A longing to return to her roots, to forget about clearing her name and allow the mountains work their restorative magic on her battered soul welled up so strongly, tears sprang to her eyes. Melender allowed herself to picture the kitchen and living area, the small bedroom, and—her grandmother’s pride and joy—a tiny bathroom with a clawfoot tub, sink, and toilet. While power lines to the cabin’s remote location was impossible, Sudie loved having running water, albeit only cold water.

“Melender?”

Brogan’s voice jolted her back to the present. Swiping away the wetness from her cheeks, she met Brogan’s gaze.

“Are you okay?” He reached across the table and grasped her hand in his.

The warmth of his touch sent a shudder through her body, like water pushing against a weak spot on a dam.

“What’s wrong?” His soft-spoken question, accompanied by the tender movement of his thumb across the top of her hand, pushed the water over the dam in a whoosh of emotions.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Withdrawing her hand from his, she bowed her head and wrapped her arms around her middle, but the pent-up emotions wouldn’t be contained. Sobs shook her frame. She cried all the tears she couldn’t shed in prison. Her crying yesterday with Mrs. Trent had loosened something inside her. The grief over what happened to Jesse and the loss of being totally alone in the world broke her down.

“Shh. It’ll be okay.” Brogan gently tugged her up and into a strong embrace.

Melender encircled his waist for support. Brogan stroked her hair and murmured comforting words she didn’t quite catch. For once, she didn’t try to reign in the floodgates of tears but let them fall, soaking his t-shirt. She didn’t know how long they stood like that, but when the tears slowed, she raised her head.

He smoothed back a strand of hair from her wet face. “Better?”

She seriously considered the question, then decided her crying jag had released some of the tension and grief bottled up inside her. “Yes.”

Brogan smiled, his eyes holding a tenderness that sent a different sort of tingle throughout her body. “You must have carried that weight around for a long time.”

That was the understatement of the year. Now that the tears had been spent, she became more aware of how tightly he held her, how snugly she fit into his embrace. Embarrassment crept over her like a vine. She stepped away only to find her back against the wall. “I’m, um, sorry about getting your shirt all wet.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

His nearness, coupled with the intensity of his gaze, heightened her senses. Drawing in a ragged breath, the scent of cedar mixed with what she was beginning to associate with Brogan. A desire to place her hand along his jawline to see if the five-o’clock shadow felt as scratchy as it looked zoomed through her. This was madness. She needed to remove herself from his vicinity pronto before she did something truly stupid, like throw herself back into his arms. He was only being kind, much like a person would comfort a small, wounded animal. Brogan had made it clear he was keeping an open mind about her guilt and that he was only in it for the story.

She slipped out of the door and into the hall bathroom a few steps away. After using the facilities, she washed up, blew her nose, then examined her face in the mirror. The tears had turned her nose red and made her eyes a little puffy, but a few splashes of cold water helped to sooth both her face and her tattered emotions. In her heightened emotional state, she clearly had misread his kindness for something more.Dear God, please help me to focus on the task at hand. Help us to find out the truth.

* * *

Brogan pressedthe heels of his hands to his eyes. Had he really been thinking of kissing Melender? Seeing her cry had touched something deep inside him. He remembered how alone he’d felt after his disgrace, how his former friends wouldn’t return his calls, and how his own family expressed their disapproval by withholding contact for a time. Those memories had driven him to rise and pull her into his arms. No one should cry alone. But his comfort had turned to something else.

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