Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #1 (47 page)

“Yes?' she whispered, not wanting to remind his mother of her presence.

“I forgot to say...can you be ready by eight tomorrow morning? I'd really like to head out as soon as we can.”

Her heart skipped a beat. A whole day driving around with Jace. She had mixed feelings about that. Excitement and nervousness. There was no point anymore in denying that she was attracted to the handsome lieutenant. But it could never go anywhere. She had too many trust issues when it came to men. Plus, she doubted he would ever be seriously interested in her—not with his mother's attitude.

Then there was the issue of meeting former jurors. As much as she begged him to let her come, she really didn't look forward to meeting those who had declared her guilty.

She hoped her face was neutral. “Fine.”

“Breakfast will be—”

Shaking his head, Jace pulled a face. “We'll go through a drive-through on the way.”

She heard what he didn't voice. No sense pushing his mom any further than necessary. She nodded, then retreated back into her room. His footsteps padded down the hall as he returned to his childhood bedroom. It was probably selfish of her, but she had been relieved when he announced his intention of staying here as long as she was in his mother's house.

She hefted her bags off the bed and stashed them beside the closet. Her suitcase was still packed. She hadn't even opened it. Her sleepwear came from her small overnight bag, which held her nighttime necessities—pj's, toothbrush and paste, and a Bible and journal. Remembering her dilemma over whether or not to bring the small bag earlier, she twisted her lips into a wry smile. Seems she needed it, after all.

An angry shriek woke her up in the morning. She bolted upright in bed, heart pounding. The clock on her nightstand said 5:52. Hurriedly, she arose and dressed in jeans and a checked flannel shirt over a mock turtleneck. Both shirts were faded and hung on her slender frame.

She found Jace and his mother standing in the backyard, Mrs. Tucker making furious gestures toward her house. Mel looked up. She gasped, her hand clutched at her shirt over her heart. Right under the bedroom window where she had slept, in bloodred letters, someone had painted A MURDERER SLEPT HERE.

“That tears it,” Mrs. Tucker blazed. “I want her out of my house. Now.”

NINE

S
ilence stretched between them as Jace and Melanie drove. It was an awkward, tense silence. They had left his mother's house within minutes of her declaration. Neither felt like eating, but Jace went through the drive-through at McDonald's, anyway. She was only able to eat half of her breakfast sandwich before her stomach revolted. Queasy, she wrapped it back up. She hated to waste good food, but there was no way she could force any more down.

“You done with that?”

Mel jerked her head up at Jace's terse question. He pointed to the half-eaten sandwich in her hand. She held it toward him.

“Yeah, I can't eat any more. Do you want it?”

He grabbed it out of her hand. She bit her cheeks to keep a smile tucked away.

“I'll take it. I'm starved.” He swallowed the sandwich in two bites, then washed it down with coffee.

“Better?” she inquired innocently.

For the first time that morning, he flashed her a smile. “Much. Thanks. We seem to have issues in the morning.”

And that, she thought, was all the discussion they were going to have about his mother. Fine with her.

“I'm dropping you off at the hospital for about an hour, two at the most,” Jace stated as he turned smoothly into the parking lot. Mel raised an eyebrow. She hadn't been aware of their plans. “I need to go check in with Paul, update him on the situation. That sort of thing. I've arranged for Sergeant Olsen to stay with you at the hospital.”

Sergeant Miles Olsen turned out to be the policeman who had shown up the day she was released. He was a young kid who had just become a cop a year ago. Miles was bright, eager and looked as though he should be wearing a Boy Scout uniform instead of a police one. His shaggy blond hair kept falling across his forehead, and his smile was wide and engaging.

“Don't worry, Miss Swanson,” he enthused when he met up with them in the hospital. “I'll keep a real close guard on you. Lieutenant Tucker is depending on me.”

“I'm sure you'll be fine,” she murmured, her mind on other things.

As they approached Aunt Sarah's room, she heard Seth calling her name. Sighing, she waited for him to catch up. Seth hurried to stand before her, then directed a pointed glance at Miles. When Miles refused to acknowledge him, Melanie intervened...somewhat reluctantly. She wasn't above wanting to see Seth squirm a little.

“Miles, could you let Seth and me have a word, please?”

The young sergeant shook his head, his mouth grim. The expression was alarming. All at once, he truly looked like a police officer. His eyes hardened as they glared back at Seth. Whoa. The hostility leaking from him was nearly tangible. But why? Judging from the confusion marring Seth's normally confident face, he had no clue, either.

“No, ma'am. Lieutenant Tucker is counting on me. I can't let you go off with anyone.”

Mel sighed. “Look, we'll be right here. Just step back a few feet so we can talk privately. Please?”

Obviously unhappy about it, but without any real reason to argue, Miles retreated a few feet. His eyes remained on Seth, though. Seth pointedly ignored him. He reached out to grab Melanie's left hand, but she moved away. His hand dropped.

“Mel,” he started, then paused, obviously unsure of how to begin. Melanie decided she didn't feel like waiting for him.

“Why did you abandon me, Seth?” she shot out, accusation in her voice. “You were my best friend since we were kids. We always stood by each other. You knew me better than anyone. You knew there was no way I could have sold those drugs, or that I could have tried to kill myself. You
knew
that. Yet you didn't even try to fight for me.”

Seth hung his head. There was no denying it. And they both knew it. He had let her down in the most despicable way possible.

“I'm ashamed of how cowardly I've been. If there was any chance...”

“Yeah, you acted like you were ashamed. One day we were in love and engaged, and the next, you were distancing yourself and treating me like I was beneath you. Even the other day, you acted like I was—”

Seth held his hands up, nodding his head. “I know, I know. And I'm sorry. I wish I had done things differently.”

“But why did you act that way, Seth? I trusted you.”

“My dad put pressure on me to leave you. He felt your background would hurt his campaign. And it upset my mom to see him get so upset. She was sick, I didn't feel I could stand against him.” He shrugged. “By the time I came home, your trial was over and you were already in jail. ”

Melanie realized she wasn't surprised. His father had always looked down on her. She should have known he would try to come between her and Seth. What really hurt is that Seth had let him. But Seth wasn't done.

“I suspect he used his connections to speed up your trial so it would be resolved before I came home. The judge and the DA are both golfing buddies. My father has contributed thousands to their campaigns.”

Shock tore through her with the force of a bullet, rocking her back on her feet. Sheer grit allowed her to regain her equilibrium even as liquid agony ran raw over wounds she had thought were healed long ago. Whether she had been innocent meant
nothing
to these people. Her future, her
life
were gambled away so powerful men could keep their power. Worse than that, Sylvie had died, and whoever had killed her was still at large, probably preying on others.

“Melly? Are you all right? Mel?”

Disgust boiled inside her, rising and pushing at her until she had no choice but to let it out. Her lip curled and her eyes narrowed. Seth actually retreated a step as she scalded him with a glance.

“You were supposed to love me.” The words were bitter on her tongue. “We were planning to vow to forsake all others, remember that, Seth? Good thing we weren't married yet. Because that was an epic fail on your part.”

She read his intention to touch her arm and backed away, shaking her head. His hand dropped, desolate.

Miles approached. The look on his face said he would not be gainsaid. “I think it's time for us to continue to your aunt's room, Miss Swanson. Lieutenant Tucker said he would be back within an hour and a half.”

Seth sketched a brief salute and departed. She watched him as he strode away, dejection in the slump of his shoulders. She refused to call him back. A whisper in her soul encouraged her to pray for a forgiving heart, but she blocked it out. The shock and betrayal were too new. A throat clearing reminded her Miles was waiting. Setting her jaw, she turned away from Seth and started walking again.

When they arrived at her aunt's room, Miles respectfully waited outside while she visited. She sat by the bed, singing in a soft voice, sometimes praying. Finally, a sense of peace came over her. She forgot about the IVs and the breathing apparatus. Even the monitor's beeping became background noise.

“You ready to go?”

She hadn't heard Jace enter the room, but it felt right that he should be there.

She stood and left with him.

“So, you want to tell me about it?” Jace held open the door for a young woman struggling with an infant car seat. He tipped his head at Mel, nudging her to exit the building ahead of him.

Mel shrugged her shoulders. “Tell you about what?”

Jace snorted. “Please. I can read you better than that. Something has you riled.” He cut his eyes at her. “Was it something Seth said?”

“How did you know...? Oh, you talked to Miles, didn't you?” She should have known Miles would feel duty-bound to give Jace a full report. She really couldn't blame the kid for being conscientious.

“Yep. I think the kid has a crush on you. I barely even knew his name before, and now he practically begs to be in on the case. Now spill.”

A gusty sigh exploded from her. Jace smirked, amused.

“Okay, okay. Remember when you asked Seth why he hadn't testified? Seth thinks his father made sure that would never happen. His father was concerned that a connection with me would hurt him politically even before Sylvie's death.”

“Well, strictly speaking, maybe it could have.”

Mel flinched. She was still feeling bruised from her conversation with Seth.

“Anyway,” she continued, “the senator convinced Seth to drop me. Then, Seth thinks he might have used his connections with the DA and judge to push the case through, so I'd be locked away before Seth got back.”

At least
that
seemed to catch Jace off guard. “Seriously?” he said.

Melanie nodded. “Apparently the senator goes golfing with the DA and judge and has contributed heavily to their campaigns. All that power and influence,” she spat out bitterly, “and he decides to use it to keep his son from marrying some bad seed.”

“I would have thought, though, that a man like Seth would have made up his own mind. I'm sure he's kicking himself now for being an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, he can kick himself all he wants. I'm still not getting back together with him.”

Jace stopped. “He wants to get back together with you?”

Warning bells went off in her mind at his stiff tone. Uh-oh. As unbelievable as it might seem, it appeared that Jace was uncomfortable with Seth's renewed interest. Jealousy? She flicked a casual glance his way then bit her lips to keep them from curling up at the corners. A scowl as dark as a thundercloud sat upon his brow. Yep. It sure looked like jealousy to her. It was probably petty of her, but she rather enjoyed the possibility.

It was the last urge she had to smile for hours.

* * *

The morning dragged by. The first three jurors they visited all denied receiving any kinds of threats. They also claimed that they still believed Melanie to be guilty. Whether they really believed this or just needed to soothe their consciences was irrelevant. The fourth juror on the list was deceased. He had died after a short battle with cancer over a year ago.

The day wore on. Around lunchtime, they approached a house that was owned by a Maggie Slade, a young woman of about twenty-five. Jace gave her door a brisk knock, but Mel wasn't surprised when no one answered. The newspaper box was overflowing, a pile of rolled-up papers scattered on the porch. The yard had a lonely, neglected feel to it.

“She didn't stop her paper delivery, but her mailbox is empty. My guess is that she took the time to put a hold on that.”

“Why wouldn't she stop her paper delivery if she was going away?” Mel queried, although she wasn't sure she wanted the answer.

“Good question. My guess is that she was in a hurry. Maybe panicked. I'll see if I can get a warrant to check this place out. In the meantime, we have more people to visit.”

The next two jurors were both males—one older, one about Melanie's age. The old man was adamant that he believed, then and now, that Mel was guilty.

“Where there's smoke, there's fire. That's what I always say.” He grunted, then spit a stream of tobacco juice out of the corner of his mouth. Mel sidestepped so it wouldn't hit her shoes. Somehow, she didn't think his atrocious aim was accidental.

The young man didn't seem to care one way or another if Melanie was guilty or innocent. He had gone along with the crowd. “I figured they must know what they were talking about. Besides, the cops can't arrest you if they don't have any evidence. Right?” He looked Melanie up and down. “But you're kinda cute. Hey, now that you're out, ya know, are you free for dinner sometime?”

Jace snorted in disgust. Melanie agreed. Without a word, she went to wait for Jace in the truck.

The next juror, an older woman, patted Mel's cheek and told her she had always wondered if she had been innocent. When Jace inquired what made her vote guilty, the woman looked sad and ashamed.

“I was weak. The others were adamant that I was wrong to doubt the evidence. I gave in. For that I apologize.”

“I accept your apology. And I don't hold it against you.” Mel kissed her cheek. Then they moved on. Next they learned that another juror, a young man named Steven Scott, had been killed in a car accident about two months ago. They both were feeling fatigued by that time. By three o'clock, they had seen seven jurors. That was when Paul called them into the department. He had had the last juror from their list flown in.

As soon as they entered the room, Mel knew that this was the woman that Alayna had told her aunt about—the other juror who admitted to being threatened. Her movements, her expressions, all spoke of extreme anxiety. When she turned and faced Melanie, her face turned ashen. She cried out and sank weakly in her chair. Melanie felt sorry for her. She was young and pretty. She looked like she should be out having fun, dating and dreaming of babies. Instead, she was here, terrified.

“You know, don't you?” she sobbed.

Paul made the introductions. “This is Miss Emily Keith. May I see you in the hall, Lieutenant Tucker?” Jace nodded and followed him out. Melanie left the room behind him. She wanted to know what was going on, so until told otherwise, she would stick like glue to Jace. Paul barely looked at her when she closed the door behind her. “She's the final juror, I understand?”

“Yes, sir. Except for the one who's missing. I'm still waiting for a warrant to go search her property.” Jace turned his steady blue eyes on the distraught woman sitting in the interview room. “From what she has already said, I think we can assume she was the one who was threatened.”

“Be careful with this one. The US marshals are standing by to escort her to a safe house. Hopefully, we'll be able to find whoever is behind this. Then she will be needed to testify. Until then, she and her family will need to be protected.”

“Understood, sir.” Jace put his hand on the door. “Mel, you need to remain out here for this one.”

The urge to argue was nearly overwhelming, but Mel fought it and held her tongue. It would be selfish to allow her feelings to interfere with the investigation. Jace had already allowed her to participate more than he should have. She had to trust him now.