Page 83 of Justice Delayed

“Patience.” He rubbed his thumb on the top of her hand.

The physical contact tangled her nerves. Her insides were turning to mush, and she was having trouble holding onto a coherent thought.

“Your face still looks pretty raw.”

She fought the desire to lay her head on his shoulder. “The doctor gave me a prescription for ibuprofen, and it helps keep most of the pain at bay.”

“I wish I had been there.” Brogan squeezed her hand. “With our work schedules, we haven’t had much time to talk. How are you doing otherwise?”

“I’m okay.” Her eyes transfixed on the shape of his mouth as he formed a gentle smile. She drew in a deep breath to reorient her thoughts away from Brogan’s lips. If she moved her head a tad, she could easily bring her mouth into contact with his. But that was madness. Brogan wasn’t sure of her innocence. She’d watched enough dramas to know girls like her rarely ended up with guys like him.

He shifted closer to her. “You know the altercation means we must be getting closer to the truth.”

Detective Livingston cleared his throat. “Am I interrupting something?”

Melender jerked back, heat flooding her cheeks.

“Not at all.” Brogan’s voice was as unemotional as if he were discussing the weather.

She got to her feet but averted her eyes, her emotions topsy-turvy.

“Follow me.” Livingston led the way to the bank of elevators. “I got called in this morning for an unexpected development in the Williams case. This isn’t for publication yet, but it appears your cousin wants to cut a deal.”

Melender brought her gaze from the floor to the cop. “I thought Jared had confessed to sending the ransom note and picking up the money.”

“Yep, and he told us where the rest of the cash was stashed.” Livingston punched the down button. “In a safe deposit box at his credit union.”

Brogan shook his head. “That sounds like something from a crime caper movie.”

The elevator dinged, and Livingston held the door back. “You know the old saying that life imitates art.” As they stepped inside, the detective selected the B3 button. “Jared said he had information about Jesse’s disappearance, but he wanted to talk to his lawyer first.”

Melender had reached for Brogan’s hand before even realizing she’d made the gesture.

“What does he know?” Brogan interlaced his fingers with hers and squeezed, sending a tingle throughout her body.

The elevator arrived at the third floor of the basement, and the door slid open. “We’ve yet to find out. He fired the lawyer his father sent and requested a public defender, who arrived at the jail about half an hour ago. My partner will give me a call after Jared and the attorney talk.”

“What was the name of the lawyer Jared fired?” Brogan let go of her hand to hold the door open.

“Let me guess. Dan Stabe?” Melender exited the elevator.

Livingston shot her a look as he stepped into the hallway. “That’s right. Wasn’t he your attorney?”

“Yes.”If you could call him that.

The detective led the way to a door close to the elevator. The small, dimly lit room held a bank of computer monitors, keyboards, and sound boards.

A woman sat with her back to the door, large headphones covering much of her head. She held up one finger at their entrance, and Livingston laid a finger on his lips to signal silence. A few seconds later, the woman removed her headphones and swiveled to face them in what Melender now recognized was a wheelchair. “Detective Livingston, I presume?”

“Ha, I haven’t heard that one before.” The cop gestured toward Brogan and Melender. “This is Brogan Gilmore, a reporter with theNorthern Virginia Herald, and Melender Harman. And this is Daisy Sullivan, who I’ve heard is the best audio technician in the Commonwealth of Virginia.”

“I bet you say that to all the technicians.” Daisy smirked. “But in my case, it happens to be true.”

Livingston nodded toward Daisy. “Rumor has it the FBI has tried to poach her more than once, but for some reason, she likes her little hovel below ground too much to leave us.”

“Let’s just say my heart belongs to Old Virginny.” Daisy tapped the arm of her chair. “But what’s with the civilians in the crime lab?”

“I got clearance from my lieutenant,” Livingston said. “Since this is officially a closed case, he was willing to give us leeway on protocol.”

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