Chapter 33

Brogan nearly dropped the notebook at the lab tech’s statement.

“There’s about an hour relating to the night of the child’s abduction,” Daisy said. “I’ll play that part.”

Brogan snuck a look at Melender, whose gaze remained fixed on the computer screens. Her pale face and rigid shoulders spoke of her tension. He wanted to put his arm around her, but something about her stillness warned him it wouldn’t be welcome. Shifting close enough that their arms brushed, he prayed for God’s peace to wash over her.

An automated voice announced the date of Jesse’s disappearance and the time of nine o’clock. A toddler’s cries filled the room.

“That’s Jesse,” Melender whispered. “That’s Jesse,” she repeated in a louder voice.

Jesse’s cries continued for several seconds, then a muffled child’s voice attempted to quiet the toddler. “No cryin’, Jesse.”

“Jillian,” Melender supplied.

Jesse wailed louder. “What’s going on?” A male barked.

Brogan didn’t need Melender to identify the man as Jared, but she confirmed it anyway.

“He feels hot,” Jillian said.

“Seriously? I don’t need this hassle right now. Oh, man. Snake’s not gonna wait for me.” Jared’s annoyance came through loud and clear. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are,” Jillian sang offkey. “Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.” Jesse’s cries lessened into hiccups as Jillian repeated the song twice more before Jared returned.

“I’m going to give your brother some medicine so he will go to sleep,” Jared said. “Open your mouth, Jesse.”

Sounds of the crib mattress crinkling, coupled with Jesse’s sniffles, a wet cough, then silence. Brogan recalled Melender saying Jesse had a runny nose in her police interview. He made a note to follow up to see what medicine Jared had given his little brother.

“Jilly, stay with him until he’s asleep.”

“I wanna finish the movie,” Jillian whined.

“Later.” Jared’s voice took on a menacing growl. “Right now, play the peek-a-boo game with the bunny.”

“Okay,” Jillian huffed out. “Peek-a-boo, Jesse.”

The recording continued with the sounds of Jillian playing the game with Jesse, who giggled a couple of times. Before long, silence filled the room.

Daisy hit pause. “That’s the first bit from that night.”

Brogan didn’t stop to think. He reached out for Melender and wrapped his arm around her stiff shoulders. It was like hugging a statute, but he didn’t let go.

“So Jared was taking care of Jesse that night.” Livingston kept his gaze on screen.

“According to this audio,” Daisy said, “which hasn’t been authenticated.”

“Don’t worry. This is strictly off the record.” Livingston looked at Brogan. “And remember, you agreed to hold this until I tell you otherwise.”

Brogan nodded his head. He squeezed Melender’s shoulders, then took her hand in his. The iciness of her fingers chilled him, but he rubbed her hand to infuse some of his warmth to her.

“The next time the recorder comes on is forty-five minutes later.” Daisy resumed the audio, which began with a mechanical voice giving the date and time.

“Jesse,” Jared said. “Jesse?” His voice grew more panicked. “Oh, no. Jesse!”

The crib springs creaked, and the mattress rustled, then Jared said, “No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

The recorder’s mechanical voice gave another time stamp five minutes later, followed by Jared’s voice. “Dad, Jesse’s not breathing. Something’s wrong.”

A brief silence, then Jared said, “He was snotty nosed and hot. I gave him some medicine.”

Another pause. “Some cough and cold stuff Ruby had in the kids’ medicine cabinet plus some baby Tylenol.”

“I know how to read a label,” Jared’s voice rose in agitation. “I only gave him the minimum dose.”

A longer pause, then Jared said, “Jilly was playing peek-a-boo to calm him down. Dad.” His voice choked. “I found the blue bunny over Jesse’s face.”

“No!” Melender’s body slumped against Brogan. He cradled her in his arms as she buried her face in his chest, her hands bunching his shirt as her tears dampened it.

“Shut it off,” Livingston snapped, his voice tight.

Melender’s sobs filled the space with an inconsolable ache. Brogan stroked her back, not knowing how to comfort her. Hearing what had actually happened the night Jesse disappeared was heart wrenching. Brogan wasn’t sure what to make of the audio, but one thing was crystal clear. Jared had discovered his younger brother in the crib not breathing. Melender shuddered in his arms, and he pulled her closer.

“Brogan.” Livingston touched his shoulder. “I think perhaps you should take Melender out for some air.”

He nodded and guided Melender out of the room and over to the elevator bank, Livingston at his heels. While they waited for the car, Livingston raked his fingers through his hair. “Daisy said the recording wasn’t graphic. That’s why I didn’t hesitate to ask you two to come along.” The detective furrowed his brow. “Is she going to be okay?”

“I hope so.” Brogan firmed his arm around her waist. “This recording changes everything.”

Livingston blew out a breath as the elevator doors dinged open. “It definitely does.” He stepped into the car after Brogan maneuvered Melender and himself inside. “I’ll call the Commonwealth’s attorney’s office as soon as we reach the lobby. She’s not gonna be happy about what’s been uncovered, especially with her re-election campaign receiving substantial contributions from Thompson Energy.”

Brogan had a million other questions but didn’t voice any of them in the short elevator ride. Fallon would know how to cover this scoop ahead of their competition once they got permission. While part of him itched to get in front of a computer and start pounding out the story while the recording was fresh in his mind, his concern about Melender overrode his reporter’s instincts. In the lobby, Livingston gave them a distracted goodbye, his attention fixated on his own cell phone.

By his side, Melender straightened, pulling away from his embrace. “What’s going to happen now?”

“I’m not sure. Livingston’s calling the Commonwealth’s attorney.” Brogan studied her washed-out features. There was a haunted look in her blue eyes that shimmered with tears. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

“What time is it?” Her eyes widened. “I have to go to work.

Brogan glanced at his phone. “It’s 4:50.”

Melender’s startled expression relaxed. “I have a little time before my shift starts.” She gazed over his shoulder. “It sounded like Jared found Jesse not breathing in his crib with the bunny on his face.”

“That’s what I heard too.” Brogan again placed his arm around her shoulders and gently moved her toward the revolving door. “It appears the Thompsons covered up whatever happened and left you to take the blame.” He wedged both of them into one of the door’s slots and pushed on the glass to exit the building.

Outside, Melender halted, turning her face up to the afternoon sun. “What do you think happened to Jesse?”

“I think…” Brogan, his arm still around her, glanced at the trickle of people moving past them from the building toward the parking lot. “Let’s get in the car first.”

Melender opened her mouth, but instead of speaking, nodded. He removed his arm from her shoulders to access his pocket for the car fob, ready to chirp open the doors as they approached the SUV.

He snapped his seat belt into place and tried to organize his thoughts. No matter which scenario that came to mind, all pointed to the Thompsons hiding the truth of what happened to Jesse and deliberately allowing Melender to take the blame. The injustice of it made his blood burn hotter than asphalt pavement under the 90-degree sun.

“You asked what I thought happened to Jesse.” He drew in a deep breath. “I think there was a terrible accident and Jesse died. And rather than face what happened, the Thompsons choose to cover up his death and shift the blame to you.”

“Brogan, you believe in God.”

“Um, yes.” He’d fallen away from his faith in his pursuit of journalistic fame, but his very public fall had ripped the scales from his eyes and exposed the sin in his heart. Repentance had started with a return to reading the Scriptures on a daily basis and humbling his heart before his Savior. Now he wouldn’t change those lean years when he struggled to find work in his field with a Pulitzer because of how God had worked in his life and heart to draw him ever closer to Jesus.

“Then you know that all things work for the good of those who love God.”

His anger rebelled against her words even as his heart agreed. Brogan reached across and wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m familiar with the verse. Romans 8:28.”

She placed her hand over his and brought it back to cradle her cheek, leaning her head into his hand. Her eyes never left his. “Brogan, I believe with all my heart God graciously put me in circumstances designed to strengthen my faith.”

Brogan shook his head, his hand falling away from her face. She spoke the truth, but the peace in her eyes sliced into his very soul. She had been through so much more than him, and yet her faith had flourished, while his still struggled at times.

Melender held up her finger, silencing him any protest he might have formed. “It was for my good and His eternal glory that I went to prison for a crime I didn’t commit. That didn’t mean I gave up trying to find justice in this world. It meant I didn’t despair when justice didn’t come.”

She smiled, and his heart thumped double time in his chest at the determination in her eyes. “No.” He couldn’t be reading her thoughts correctly. His gut clenched. “You can’t, that’s not right.”

“Yes, I can. I’ve lived with this my whole adult life, and it hasn’t crushed me yet. But the truth will devastate my family.” She sat back and clicked her seat belt into place.

“They tried to destroy you.” He wouldn’t let Melender give up, not when they were so close to exonerating her. “They wanted you to rot in prison and are probably behind the apartment break-in and attacks against you.”

“That doesn’t matter. My actions aren’t predicated on the actions of others.”

His frustration spilled over. “Fancy words aren’t going to change the fact they deliberately sent you to prison to cover up a crime.”

She turned back to face him. “But from the recording, you can tell it was an accident. Jesse died because of a mistake.”

He had to make her understand. He couldn’t let her throw away the rest of her life because of some noble thought of saving her family by not pressing for her conviction to be overturned. If she did, she would also be throwing away any chance they had of a future, and he very much wanted to explore the possibility with her. “I’ll grant you Jesse’s death might have been an accident, but what happened after that most certainly was not.”

“What if Jillian inadvertently killed him while playing peek-a-boo with the blue bunny?”

The question hit Brogan in the gut, pulverizing his ire into bits.

“She was barely three years old. She had no idea what she was doing.” Melender’s voice dropped to a whisper, her hands clenched on her lap as she stared straight ahead. “If this comes out, how could Jillian live with the knowledge that she accidentally killed her baby brother?”

“I don’t know.” He placed his hand over hers. “But it’s not up to you. Livingston called the Commonwealth’s attorney’s office, which will determine if a crime has been committed and if there was a miscarriage of justice in your case.”

She moved her hands away from his and bowed her head. “Can we go now?

He wanted to argue with her, make her see the wheels were in motion on the pathway to clearing her name, but things were too raw right now for those arguments to make sense to her. While he didn’t agree with her point of view, she wasn’t wrong. If Jillian had suffocated Jesse by playing a game with him, carrying that guilt around for the rest of her life would be a terrible burden.

Of all the outcomes for this case, that was one neither one of them had considered. And Brogan was very much afraid it would mean the demise of his budding relationship with Melender as well.