Presumed Guilty. Dana R. Lynn
arrogant, and Jace had noted that he had broken many of his campaign promises within months of getting elected. In Jace’s mind, that showed a lack of integrity.
“Lieutenant Tucker! I need a moment of your time!”
Resigned, Jace motioned for Melanie to stop.
“Wait here. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
He made his way over to where Senator Joe Travis was waiting impatiently. The senator’s eyes slid past him and landed on Melanie. Jace’s spine stiffened in annoyance when the older man’s lips curled in a derisive sneer.
“Looks like you got short straw today, son, escorting the likes of her around town.”
Jace refused to comment. However he might feel about it, it was his duty, and he would do it without complaint.
“You wanted to talk with me, Senator Travis?”
The senator whipped his face back around to glare at Jace.
“I want to know when you’re going to get around to doing your duty. Someone broke into my house last night!” The senator seemed to swell with righteous anger.
“Was anything taken?”
The man hesitated. “Nothing really valuable. A few things here and there. Some pictures. Some of my wife’s jewels.”
“Not all of her jewels?”
“No. The thief left some of the older pieces that my wife inherited from her mother. Must not have known how valuable they are.”
“Okay, here’s what you need to do. Go to the station and file a report, listing the items stolen and their approximate value. Be as specific as you can.” Jace bit back a smile. Senator Travis practically vibrated with frustration.
“You can’t take my statement now? I’m a very busy man!” The senator narrowed his eyes, a sly expression creeping onto his face. “Or are you letting our local ex-con charm her way into your life? Be careful, she’s a clever one. Good thing my son came to his senses.”
Any thought Jace might have had of helping the man fled. The implication that he would be so easily manipulated, that he lacked the sense and the willpower to maintain control over himself, was more insulting than the senator could have realized. And it triggered painful memories that he did not care to revisit. Ever.
“Sorry, sir. No time today.” Before the senator could respond, he swiftly headed back to where Melanie was waiting with a wary expression. Without slowing, he grabbed her arm above the elbow and pulled her along with him.
“Don’t look back. Whatever you do, don’t look back. He might come after us.”
“Okay, I won’t look,” Melanie assured him, gasping as she was dragged to the hospital entrance.
Once inside, they were directed to the waiting room. Jace pretended to read the newspaper as he sat. In reality, he watched Melanie. She was staring out the window, her eyes slightly unfocused. The light coming in caught in her hair, giving off reddish highlights. There were still a few shards of glass there, glistening. He had the urge to walk over and pick them out. Her porcelain-smooth complexion was marred only by the pensive line on her brow. Until she turned her head slightly and the light fell on an inch-long cut. He remembered the rock that had been thrown at her earlier. It had been his duty to protect her. He had failed.
She hardly seemed aware of the cut. Every expression, every gesture, showed nothing but anxiety over her aunt. Gazing at her and seeing how worried she was, remembering how she had turned to the Bible for consolation, he found it incredible that she was capable of the crimes she had been accused of. Doubt slithered across his mind. He quickly shoved it aside. The evidence had been there. True, it was mostly circumstantial. There were no DNA matches, no incriminating fingerprints. But he knew from experience that an appealing face and charming manners could be deceptive.
Jace shook his head fiercely. He refused to second-guess himself. If he did, he would go insane. So she had been careful at the scene. But she had been there when Sylvie died. She couldn’t deny that fact, even if she couldn’t remember exactly what had happened that day. Melanie had admitted that she and Sylvie planned to meet at the dorm the day of the younger girl’s death. According to Melanie’s testimony, she didn’t know why Sylvie had contacted her, asking to meet. Sylvie was a freshman, and Melanie, at twenty-one, was in her last semester of the dental hygienist program. The two had no overlap in their coursework or in their friends, no reason to be in contact—except for the drugs that Sylvie took and that they had every reason to believe Melanie sold her. Tainted drugs that killed Sylvie and left Melanie responsible for her death. Eyes narrowing, he resumed his observance of his charge.
Melanie leaned her head against the cold window and closed her eyes. He saw her sigh, then her lips began moving. It was almost as though she was talking, but not a sound issued from her mouth. Could she be praying? As much as he wanted to scoff at the idea, the memory of her sitting reading her Bible was firmly implanted in his brain. It couldn’t have been staged. She had no way of knowing he would come searching for her. And the Bible had looked far too natural in her hands.
Melanie opened her eyes and turned her head. Their eyes met, and all thoughts fled. He could feel the electricity sparking between them.
“Lieutenant Tucker? Miss Swanson?”
Both occupants in the waiting room startled.
A doctor stood in the doorway. He glanced between them, a serious expression on his lined face.
Jace quickly rose to his feet. Melanie, he noticed, watched the doctor almost fearfully. Her aunt was all she had, Jace realized. A rush of sympathy unexpectedly filled him. When she stepped next to him, he reached out and squeezed her hand briefly before dropping it again. Blood heated his face as she looked at him, shocked. What on earth had come over him? He took a step away from her.
The doctor cleared his throat.
“I’m Dr. Jensen, the physician in charge of Mrs. Swanson’s care. Mrs. Swanson has regained consciousness,” he informed them. Melanie’s shoulders sagged as the tension melted from her. Tears filled her eyes. “She’s groggy, and we’ll need to observe her overnight. She is asking to see you.”
* * *
Melanie fought back tears as she gazed down at her aunt’s withered frame. The years had not been kind to her. Melanie remembered how strong she had seemed to Melanie when she was a child. How old she appeared now! Her once-thick white hair had thinned, leaving patches of scalp visible. Her face was gaunt, the skin stretched taut against her high cheekbones. Her eyes were sunken into the sockets. Her aunt’s whole body appeared fragile. The robust woman who had raised her since her mother’s death had completely disappeared. Melanie knew most of the changes in her aunt were due to the stress of Melanie’s arrest. The reddened lids lifted, and Mel found herself staring into sharp blue eyes.
“Mel,” the old woman whispered, her voice crackling like dry leaves.
Melanie swallowed. She had come so close to losing this dear woman. Reaching out, she took her aunt’s frail hand in hers.
“Aunt Sarah,” she said huskily. “I was so scared. How do you feel?”
“Don’t you worry about me, Melly girl. I’m just relieved to see you safe.”
Melanie gave Lieutenant Tucker a startled glance. Her confusion was mirrored on his face.
“What do you mean, Mrs. Swanson? Why wouldn’t your niece be safe?”
Sarah Swanson narrowed her eyes at him. Mel could almost feel her aunt’s distrust. Not that she could blame her. After all, he had led her niece away in handcuffs all those years ago.
Now was not the time, though, to harbor grudges.
“Aunt Sarah, if something’s going on, you have to tell Lieutenant Tucker,” she insisted. “There’s more at stake here than my reputation.”
The