Page 68 of Justice Delayed

Brogan knocked on the partially closed door to Stabe’s office. At his invitation to come in, Brogan and Seth entered the office.

“Do you have the affidavit from the Reynolds case?” Stabe asked without looking up from the file on his desk.

“No,” Brogan said as he and Seth approached the man. Remains of the Stabe’s lunch spread across one corner of the desk, while a large fountain drink sat sweating on the opposite side.

Stabe whipped his head up. “You’re not Tom. Who are you and how did you get in here?”

Brogan extended his hand while ignoring the last part of the question. “I’m Brogan Gilmore, and this is Seth Whitman. We’re with theNorthern Virginia Herald.”

Stabe shook Brogan’s hand, his grip soft. While the man clasped Seth’s hand, Brogan studied him, judging his age to be mid-forties. Compared to a photo taken during Melender’s trial, he’d put on considerable weight. Puffy flesh surrounded his brown eyes.

“We have a few questions about the Jesse Thompson case.” Brogan took one of the two chairs situated in front of the desk, motioning Seth to the other one.

“That’s been over a long time.” Stabe sank back into his chair.

Not surprised by his evasive answer, Brogan pulled out his phone. “Do you mind if I record our conversation?”

“Yes, I do mind.” Stabe’s gaze travelled to Seth, then back to Brogan. “In fact, I’m very busy, and I don’t have time for unannounced visitors. So if you’ll please—”

“This will only take a minute.” Brogan didn’t budge, deciding to come out swinging to see if he could rattle the other man’s composure. “I read through the trial transcript, and I’ve got to say, you didn’t put up much of a defense for your client.”

Stabe raised his eyebrows but didn’t rise to the bait. “The evidence overwhelmingly pointed to Melender Harman’s guilt in the matter.”

“It was mostly based on witness testimony, wasn’t it? There was no forensic evidence tying Melender to the disappearance at all.”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to imply. I did my job.” Stabe pointed his finger at Brogan. “I got the death penalty off the table.”

Brogan shook his head. “According to the district attorney’s office, the death penalty wasn’t even considered in this case, given there wasn’t a body.”

Stabe shifted his gaze away from Brogan. “I did the best I could given the case I was handed.” He stood. “It’s time for you two to leave.”

Brogan remained seated, keeping his temper in check at the man’s obtuseness. “You hardly questioned witnesses, and you certainly didn’t put forth a compelling reason as to why your client was innocent.” He no longer tried to hide his contempt. “In short, you made it every easy for the prosecution to win.”

“You think it’s easy defending someone accused of murder?” Stabe asked in a tight voice. “Leave my office. Now.”

Brogan rose, making a show of glancing around the office. “This is quite the cushy job. How exactly did you get it, being that you were a defense attorney before?”

Stabe shrugged, but the gesture was anything but nonchalant, given the tenseness in his shoulders. “That wasn’t a good fit for me, so I made a change after a couple of years.” Stabe picked up his office phone. “I’m calling security.”

Brogan held up his hands as Seth moved to the door. “We’re going.” At the door, Brogan turned back to Stabe, who stood with his arms crossed. “One more thing. I find it very coincidental that this firm represents the interests of Thompson Energy.”

Brogan closed the door sharply behind them before Stabe could utter another word. He and Seth walked across the parking lot in silence. Brogan unlocked the doors to his SUV. “That went rather well, don’t you think?”

“I don’t see what we’ve gained.” Seth buckled his seatbelt.

“He’s the weakest link. With any luck, he’ll get in touch with the people who paid him to throw the murder trial.” Brogan put the car into gear.

“Wait a minute, you think Quentin Thompson is involved in his own son’s death?”

“I believe Quentin Thompson willingly allowed Melender Harman to take the blame for Jesse’s disappearance,” Brogan corrected. “I’m not saying he had anything to do with Jesse’s death.”

“What’s our next move?”

“We’re going to see someone who might be willing after all this time to finally tell the truth.”

* * *

Jillian’s revelationsthat she’d seen a man bending over Jesse’s crib in the middle of the night revved Melender’s internal engine as questions flooded her mind. Had Jared given Jesse Tylenol or something more sinister to shut him up? Who was the man bending over Jesse’s crib in the middle of the night? Was Jillian remembering the evening accurately, or was this all the mixed up emotions of a three-year-old trying to process the loss of her baby brother?

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