Page 65 of Justice Delayed

ChapterTwenty-Six

“Melender? Are you up?”

“Just a moment, please.” Shoving her hair from her eyes, Melender tossed back the bedding, then padded to the door to answer Mrs. Trent’s query. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry to wake you when I know you have work tonight, but there’s someone to see you,” Mrs. Trent said.

“Is it Brogan?” Only he knew where she was staying.

“No, it’s a young woman. She wouldn’t give her name.” Mrs. Trent smoothed back a strand of hair. “She seems rather distressed, so I don’t think she’s a reporter.”

If Mrs. Trent didn’t think she was after a story, then Melender would see what the woman wanted. “Okay, let me get dressed, and I’ll be right up.”

Mrs. Trent nodded, then retreated upstairs. Melender hurriedly dressed, splashing water on her face to chase away the last vestiges of sleep and her dream of Brogan riding a white horse to rescue her from the clutches of a shadowy figure wearing a black cape.

As she rounded the stairs, she overheard Mrs. Trent and the unknown visitor talking about the possibility of a break in the hot, humid stretch of weather that had blanketed the region. Melender stopped abruptly as the young woman dressed in jean shorties and a stomach-skimming black t-shirt locked eyes with her.

“Hello, Melender.”

Melender took a step back. “Jillian?” With her mass of dark blonde hair held back from her face with a headband, her cousin bore a strong resemblance to a young Ruby.

“It’s been a long time.” Jillian held a plastic grocery bag in one hand, her smartphone in the other. Her slender frame stretched as taut as a dulcimer string. “I thought it was time we had a little chat.”

“Sure.” Melender tried to keep the surprise from her voice and expression, but shock at seeing her cousin coursed through her body. She’d written numerous letters to Jillian over the years, once her cousin had gotten old enough to respond, but had never heard a peep. Melender didn’t know whether Ruby and Quentin actually passed along her missives or if Jillian had simply chosen to either not read or response to them.

“With the fan on, it won’t be too hot on the back porch for you two to sit and talk,” Mrs. Trent interjected.

Melender smiled at her hostess. “Is that okay with you, Jillian?”

Jillian shrugged.

“Do you want something to drink?” Melender asked.

Jillian shook her head.

“Then let’s go out there.” Melender led the way through the kitchen to the covered porch. With the overhead fan on and a breeze through the open windows, the setting was tolerable.

Melender took a seat on the mustard-colored sofa while Jillian selected a chair at a right angle to her. Setting her phone on a side table, Jillian placed the bag on her lap but didn’t say anything.

The adoring three-year-old who followed her around the house begging Melender to play with her had vanished. In her place was a brittle twenty-one-year-old with haunted eyes. But the undercurrent emanating from Jillian’s entire being was one of loneliness and abandonment.

Melender allowed the silence to build by counting to sixty as slow as she could. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. You’re so grown up now.”

Her words galvanized the younger woman, who straightened in the chair. Raising her chin to gaze directly at Melender, she said, “Seventeen years will do that to a person.” She ran her eyes up and down the length of Melender. “I must say, I thought you would come out of prison looking older, more worn out. But here you are, appearing happy and healthy.”

“Having a clean conscious will do that for a person.” Melender smiled, consciously mimicking her cousin’s words.

“Mother said despite your conviction and prison term you still clung to your innocence.” She cocked her head. “But then Mother was never in your corner, was she? She never has a good thing to say about you.”

Melender ignored the taunt and spoke instead to the hurt lurking beneath the surface of Jillian. “Do you remember your favorite song when you were three?”

“No.” Jillian narrowed her eyes. “Why on earth should I remember something as mundane as my favorite song as a preschooler?”

“It was the only thing that calmed you when you were scared.” Maybe their connection hadn’t been totally broken and could be repaired. She’d loved Jillian and Jesse as fiercely as if they’d been her siblings.

“One night when you were a little girl, there was a terrible early summer thunderstorm with lots of lightning and even some hail. You came racing into my room, your eyes as big as saucers, and dove under the covers of my bed.”

Melender paused to gauge how the young woman would react to the childhood memory, but the stony face staring back at her gave no indication she recalled the night in question. While she didn’t know why Jillian had come to see her, she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get Jillian to talk about the night her brother disappeared.

---