Chapter 44

Melender bit into her cheeseburger and chewed slowly. Although Brogan’s response to her romantic declaration the night before hadn’t been negative, it lacked any passion to show her feelings were reciprocal. Seated across from him now, she couldn’t help but regret choosing one of the most popular gourmet burger restaurants in town for lunch. The line of customers snaked from the registers out the front door. A sudden outburst of laughter from a group of women in the next booth drew not only Melender’s attention but also Brogan’s.

“Is this place always so crowded?” Brogan dunked several fries into a ketchup cup on his plate, then leaned across the table. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. The saying goes, if you want good food, look for long lines.”

She blotted her mouth with a paper napkin. “It’s pretty much always crowded, but if you like, we could wrap our food up and take it to the park down the street.”

“Nah, this fine.” He picked up his double cheeseburger with both hands and bit into it. The smile in Brogan’s eyes reminded her that the way to a man’s heart was sometimes through his stomach, even if the cooking wasn’t her own. “You look refreshed.”

She swallowed her food. “I slept surprisingly well last night. Maybe because all of this is finally over.”

Brogan took a swig of iced tea. “I can’t believe as soon as Quentin could speak coherently after his surgery, he insisted on giving a statement. At least he owned up to his part in the whole thing.”

He shook his head. “Calling Smith to help bury your one-year-old son to hide his accidental death is cold and calculated.”

Melender set the napkin she’d used to blot her mouth beside her plate. Any appetite she’d had waned. “My uncle wanted to protect his living children and get his mining permit. I guess we’ll never know exactly how Jesse died.”

“Livingston said the ME couldn’t immediately determine a cause of death.” Brogan took another bite of his burger. “They’ll run more tests but those will take a while.”

“Do the police have a theory as to what happened to Jesse?” Melender smiled as Brogan pointed to his mouth.

After another longer swig from his iced tea, he spoke. “Livingston said the ME’s best guess was the cold inhibited Jesse’s breathing, and the medicine made him sleepy When Jillian played peek-a-boo, then left the blue bunny on his face, he simply couldn’t breathe and was too drowsy to remove it.”

Sadness over how Jilly must be feeling with the knowledge she could have inadvertently killed her baby brother knotted Melender’s stomach. Brogan pushed his plate aside. “I know your heart aches for Jillian.”

Oh, Jilly. “How will she recover from it?”

“The ME did say Jesse might have died for an entirely different reason that had nothing to do with what Jared or Jillian did that night.”

“That’s true.” Melender took sip of iced tea to clear her throat of emotion. A change of topic was in order, or she’d shed more tears. “How did your story turn out? I didn’t have time to look for it before heading to the station this morning.”

His eyes lit up. “Fallon said it was one of the best pieces of investigative journalism he’d read in a long time. It took me half the night to write it, but Fallon had very few edits.”

Brogan wiped his hands on his napkin, picked up his phone, then handed her the device. “Read for yourself.”

Decades-Old Child Disappearance Solved

New evidence points to family coverup; remains discovered on Thompson property.

By Brogan Gilmore, Herald reporter

Infant bones discovered yesterday in the backyard of Quentin and Ruby Thompson are believed to be those of Jesse Thompson, who disappeared nineteen years ago. Quentin Thompson has confessed to burying his son’s body in a rose garden on the property with an alleged accomplice, John Smith. Thompson also said he and Smith conspired to frame his niece, Melender Harman, for the disappearance. Harman, convicted of killing the toddler, served her entire seventeen-year sentence while maintaining her innocence.

Melender skimmed the rest of the article, which contained info they’d already discovered together. “Nice job.” Brogan’s phone jangled, and she handed it back to him.

Checking the caller ID, Brogan said, “It’s Fallon. Mind if I take it?”

“Go ahead.” She munched on a fry, her appetite returning a little. Brogan’s story had gone national, and it was only a matter of time before a bigger news outlet decided to give him another chance. She tried to be happy but couldn’t help the melancholy mood that gripped her heart each time she looked into his blue eyes. Would he even want her to come with him when he moved to the big leagues? Or would she be a liability, given her past? Even though exonerated in the press, she still had a conviction on her record. She didn’t even know how to start getting that expunged.

Brogan sat back and squared his shoulders “Yes, I see.”

Her phone buzzed. An unfamiliar number with a Virginia area code flashed on her screen. The phone buzzed again. It could be a reporter, but something prompted her to answer it. “Hello?”

“May I speak to Melender Harman?” a female voice asked crisply.

“Speaking.”

“I’m calling from the governor’s office.”

“The governor’s office?” Melender’s voice came out in a squeak as a million thoughts raced through her mind.

“Yes. Please hold while I connect you with Governor Conner.” Without waiting for Melender’s acquiescence, the woman clicked off, then a male voice boomed on the line.

“Melender Harman? Governor Blake Conner.”

Melender couldn’t formulate a suitable greeting and stayed silent while the governor continued.

“Quentin Thompson told me the entire story.” The governor’s tone sobered. “You might not know this, but Quentin and I went to high school together. He’s been one of my closest friends for many years.”

Melender held her breath, not sure where Conner was going with this. If they were friends for that long, would the governor believe in Quentin’s guilt?

“I guess you can never really know someone, can you? What he did, I can only chalk up to a father’s grief and fierce protective nature.”

That was one way of processing what her uncle had done. She longed to ask if Quentin had confessed to the map alternation as part of his impetus for framing her.

“But I didn’t call to speculate about Quentin’s motives. I’ve spoken with the attorney general, and we’re drafting an official pardon for you.”

“A pardon?” Melender had hoped her conviction would be expunged, but a governor’s pardon would amount to the same thing and be a more public proclamation of her innocence.

“Yes, your record will be wiped clean.”

“How long will it take?” The question burst out of her before she had time to consider how ungrateful it might sound.

Her query must have amused the governor because he chuckled. “I would be anxious to put all this behind me too. It should be ready for my signature later today. My office will send out an official statement to the press about the pardon this afternoon.”

Melender glanced at Brogan, who appeared to be wrapping up his own call. While her heart didn’t want to help him solidify his return to journalism on a national scale, her head wanted to help him succeed in his chosen profession. “Maybe you could give a quote to Brogan Gilmore with the Northern Virginia Herald? He’s with me right now.”

“Gilmore? He wrote a fine piece about the case. Quentin said he had a hand in saving his life.”

“Yes, he did.” She smiled at Brogan as he ended his call.

“Put him on, and my office will be in touch once I have the pardon signed. Miss Harman?”

“Yes, sir?”

“On behalf of the Commonwealth of Virginia, my sincere apologies for your wrongful conviction.”

“Thank you.” Melender managed to speak around the lump in her throat. “Here’s Brogan.”

She handed her phone to Brogan. “It’s Governor Conner.”

He raised his eyebrows as he accepted the device. “Brogan Gilmore with the Northern Virginia Herald.”

Melender couldn’t concentrate on Brogan’s side of the conversation because she kept replaying the governor’s words “sincere apologies for your wrongful conviction,” “your record wiped clean,” and “pardon.” She closed her eyes as the reality of his words washed over her.

Finally, her life would be her own. Finally, she had closure on what happened to her darling nephew. Finally, she could think about her future—maybe one that would include a certain blond-haired, blue-eyed reporter. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. But somehow, she didn’t think what she felt for the handsome reporter had much in common with the infatuation of youth. This was the real thing, a love that would last a lifetime.

Her eyes popped open. Love. Yes, she did love Brogan. The way he had protected her, had believed in her when no one else did. The way he’d come to her rescue in the garden shed. The way he’d kissed her. Her lips tingled at the memory. Her gaze drifted to his lips, watching as he formed words she ignored. The longing for his mouth on hers sent another wave of warmth throughout her body. But a niggling doubt crept in. Would Brogan even want her now that the story was complete?

She could have misread the signs he meant for friendship where she saw love. After all, she had zero experience in the romance department. There was that kiss, but since then, he’d never even tried to capture her lips with his. Sure, he had held her hand, and the look in his eyes at times had made her heart skip quite a few beats.

“Melender?”

She jerked her gaze from his mouth to his eyes. By the look of bemusement in their blue depths, she must have zoned out for longer than a few seconds. “Uh, I was woolgathering, as Sudie used to say.”

He smiled as he reached across the table for her hand. “You appeared to be miles away.”

“How was the governor?” Melender interlaced her fingers with Brogan’s, not wanting to discuss exactly where her thoughts had gone during his phone conversation.

“Great. He gave me an exclusive interview with the caveat that I can’t hit publish until 4 p.m. today when he makes the announcement about your pardon.” Brogan’s blue eyes brightened. “You must be so happy.”

“I am.” Melender didn’t add that much of her happiness had to do with the man sitting across from her rather than an official pardon. “It’s a lot to take in, after all that’s happened.”

“I know.” He squeezed her hand, then extracted his and cleaned up the remains of their lunch. “But I’ve got a lot of writing to do between now and 4 p.m.”

Melender rose to help toss the wrappers and cups into the trashcan. She tried to focus as he chatted about the story and the news Fallon had given him by text that his story had been picked up by the Associated Press and broadcast across the country. But she couldn’t entirely fight off a wave of melancholy that swept over her. As he walked her out to the parking lot, tears suddenly pricked the backs of her eyelids. Blinking rapidly, she willed them away. No way did she want to cry on Brogan’s parade. He deserved this moment of journalistic redemption.

At their respective vehicles, she pulled keys from her purse. The evening ahead stretched out in front of her like a blank canvas. Maybe she’d curl up with Goliath and binge-watch an entire season of “The Office.”

Brogan touched her arm.

She met his gaze briefly before sliding hers to the ground. “I know you’ll write a good story about the pardon.”

“Melender.” He gently lifted her chin, then cupped her cheek. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“Oh?” Her eyes entangled with his, the seriousness in their depths sending a tingling sensation down to her toes.

“We’ve had a wild ride, haven’t we?” His lips curve into a brief smile. “I can’t believe we’ve only known each other less than a month. And yet…”

Instead of finishing his thought, he encircled her waist with his other hand, drawing her body closer to his. “And yet?” His nearness played havoc with her senses as she breathed in a hint of cedar underlined with a clean soap smell that she identified as all Brogan.

“I’ve found myself thinking about you all the time, not as a source but as someone with whom I’m falling in love.” He brought his lips close to hers. “I have no intention of walking out of your life, Melender Harman. I’m in it for the long game.”

With those words, he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against her mouth. As Brogan deepened the kiss, Melender wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed herself to simply enjoy the moment—feeling at home in his arms.

The End