Page 92 of Justice Delayed

“May I see some identification?” Her smile broadened as she extended her hand toward him. “I need to make sure you’re who you say you are.”

“Of course.” He dug out his wallet and flipped it open to show his driver’s license. She studied it before standing to move to a bank of cubby holes. After extracting a bulky, banded accordion file folder, she returned to the desk. “Here you go.”

Brogan thanked her and tucked the package under his arm as he hurried to the elevator. During the short ride to the lobby, he resisted the urge to flip through the papers.

In the car, he placed the folder on the console between them. Melender rested her hand on the package. “What’s this?”

“Something Stabe wanted me to have.” Brogan put the car in reverse and backed out of the space

Her fingers lightly tapped the folder. “It looks like his notes from my trial.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What makes you think that?”

“I recognize the folder.” She pointed to a circular stain on the light brown surface. “He set his coffee mug here and some of it spilled.” Melender pointed to another marred area. “This greasy spot is from a sandwich wrapper. And that”—she indicated a smudged shape—“is where I drew a wood anemone blossom. It’s kind of our family flower.”

Brogan pulled onto the main street. “I’m impressed with your memory. Half the time I can’t recall a stain on my shirt from the same day, much less what happened to an accordion file from eighteen years ago.”

“Don’t envy me.” She shrugged. “I had a lot of time in prison to go over the events that led up to my incarceration.”

Her solemn declaration gripped his heart. “Are you okay? You seem a little…” He searched for the right word. “Sad.”

Hot on the scent of piecing together the truth of what happened to Jesse, he’d overlooked this case was more than a mystery to be solved and a story to be written. To Melender, it was about reclaiming her adult life from its dark past and bringing it into the light of truth.

Melender swiped at her cheek. “Why do you think Stabe gave you the folder?”

He smiled at her diversionary tactic. While accelerating through a yellow light, Brogan glanced over at her. “Melender, something’s wrong. Is it the recording?”

She shook her head, not meeting his gaze but staring out of the window. “Please—” Her hand grasped the armrest. “Brogan, watch out!”

He jerked his attention back to the road. A black SUV swerved into his lane, bumping his vehicle into the oncoming traffic. Horns blared as Brogan twisted the wheel hard to the right to regain his lane, but the SUV slammed into them.

“Brace yourself!” He stomped on the brakes and swerved to the right but couldn’t completely avoid an oncoming pickup truck. The pressure of his seatbelt held him tight as the high-pitched whine of tearing metal and the loud pop of the deploying airbags filled his ears.

The impact sent his SUV spinning into an unyielding object, whipping Brogan’s head against the door frame with a thunk. Light flashed and sparkled as pain exploded across his skull. He fought the enclosing darkness but was no match for the blackness that overwhelmed his senses.

ChapterThirty-Six

Ruby firmed her lips, not caring that such an expression marred the smooth contours of her face. She didn’t want to see the detectives, who showed up yet again unannounced on her doorstep. After their last visit, Consuela had been instructed to leave them standing outside if they returned. She was through offering them hospitality, since they insisted on tormenting her family rather than finding her baby boy.

After yanking open the door, she glared at Livingston and Collier. “If you don’t stop harassing my family, I’m going to report you to your superiors.”

“Ma’am, I have a warrant to search the premises.” Livingston handed her a piece of paper.

Only then did Ruby notice the pair weren’t alone. Uniformed officers milled about on the paver-stone driveway. She craned her neck to see behind the two detectives. In the driveway, a woman unloaded two dogs from the back of a van. “What’s going on?”

“The warrant explains we will be searching the grounds and the house,” Livingston said as his partner waved to a waiting group of men and women, who started toward them. “Who’s currently inside?”

Ruby crumpled the warrant in her hand. “My housekeeper and daughter.”

“Where’s your husband?” Livingston put his hand on Ruby’s arm and gently guided her inside as men and women filed in behind them.

“Quentin’s at work.” As if saying his name broke a spell that had held her immobile, she shook her arm out of Livingston’s grip. “I’ve got to call him.” She hurried to the kitchen as she pressed the call button on her phone. A female police officer positioned herself within earshot of Ruby.

Her husband picked up on the first ring. “Ruby, I told you I have meetings all day today. In fact—”

“The police are here with a warrant to search the house and grounds.” The words tumbled out in a rush.

Silence.

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