Page 70 of Justice Delayed

“Officer Taylor is talking to the witnesses,” Gutierrez said. “Looks like a nasty cut on your cheek.”

Relief poured over her that Jones didn’t appear to be with Gutierrez. “He smashed my face hard into the brick.”

“The EMTs are on their way.” Office Gutierrez dropped into a crouch beside her and pulled out his notebook and pen. “Do you think you can walk me through what happened?”

“Sure.” Melender sketched the details of the attack.

“Do you know what warning the man meant?” Gutierrez asked as the ambulance squealed into the parking lot.

“A few days ago, someone called me with essentially the same message. Stop looking into Jesse’s disappearance—or else.”

Two EMTs hustled toward them. The officer rose, making room for the approaching emergency technicians.

“Or else what?” Gutierrez asked.

She met Gutierrez’s eyes. “Or else someone could get hurt. The caller specifically mentioned Brogan Gilmore, a reporter with theNorthern Virginia Herald.”

ChapterTwenty-Eight

“This high rise has seen better days,” Seth said as Brogan turned into the apartment complex where Isadora Alonso lived.

Some residents had tried to brighten the façade with window boxes, but the overall effect only drew attention to the drab exterior. Brogan pocketed his keys as he joined Seth on the pavement.

“What apartment does she live in?” Seth walked beside him into the building.

“1436.” Brogan stopped by the elevators. He punched the up button. Nothing. Seth did the same on the adjacent elevator. Again nothing. A second try netted the same results.

Brogan groaned. “You up for a climb?”

Seth shrugged. “I haven’t worked out today.”

Brogan pointed to the stairwell door. “Me either.”

The two of them headed up the stairs. The unairconditioned stairway was stifling, adding to their discomfort.

With a sigh of relief, Brogan pushed open the door for the fourteenth floor. In the cooler corridor, he wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “I need to hit the gym more.”

“In this heat, it wouldn’t matter too much.” Although Seth’s cheeks were flushed, he wasn’t breathing nearly as hard as he was.

Brogan paused, wanting to catch his breath before approaching the apartment. The smell of cigarettes and cabbage assailed his nostrils.

“Ready?” Seth smoothed back his hair with the heels of his hands.

“Sure.” Brogan used the tail of his shirt to blot his face, re-tucked it into his khakis, then moved down the hallway toward number 1436.

The apartment had a brightly painted red door with a small grapevine wreath that sported dried sunflowers. His knock brought no one to the door. After exchanging a glance with Seth, he knocked harder.

Close to the door, he detected footsteps approaching the door from inside the apartment. The door opened a crack. “What do you want?” The woman kept the security chain firmly in place, allowing only a small sliver of her appearance to show.

“I’m Brogan Gilmore, and this is Seth Whitman. We’re with theNorthern Virginia Herald.”

“I don’t want subscription.” The woman started to close the door.

“We’re not selling subscriptions. We’re looking for Isadora Alonso.” Brogan held his breath that she wouldn’t shut the door.

“Why?”

Brogan drew in a deep breath. “I’m looking into the disappearance of Jesse Thompson.”

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