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 lieutenant nodded. “Melanie’s right. I need to know what’s going on.”
“Melly, one of the jurors came to see me,” Sarah whispered. “She was so scared. Terrified. Said that she and at least one of the other jurors had received threatening phone calls and letters during the trial.”
“Threats?” Lieutenant Tucker stepped closer. “What kind of threats?”
Sarah coughed and closed her eyes. “They were told to vote guilty or else. The young woman, Alayna Brown, I think, was worried that whoever it was would go after her parents.”
“Aunt Sarah.” Melanie kept her voice soft, soothing. “You said another juror was threatened, too. Do you know who? Did she say?”
“No, dear.” The old woman opened her eyes and pierced Melanie with her gaze. “She said that her conscience was killing her. She was afraid that she’d helped to jail an innocent woman and keep a killer free. I think she was worried that whoever wanted you in prison so bad would come after you now that you were free.”
Melanie felt the horror sink into her soul. Would this never end? All she wanted was to try to put her life back together. Somehow, she had found herself in the middle of something dark.
Something deadly.
A footstep stopped outside the door. Melanie frowned, and craned her neck to see who was at the door. When she saw the empty doorway, she shook her head. Great. Now she was hearing things.
“Mrs. Swanson,” Lieutenant Tucker addressed her aunt gently, “I’m going to ask for someone to guard your door during your stay. I’ll do my best to find out who’s behind this. Please trust me.”
“Melly,” the old lady wheezed urgently.
“I’ll protect her, Mrs. Swanson. With my life if necessary.” He leaned over and placed a hand over Sarah’s. When he straightened, he took out his phone and motioned to Melanie that he was going to be right outside the door. She nodded her understanding. She tried to focus her attention on her aunt, but found herself listening in on the lieutenant’s side of the conversation.
“Sir, I know we have limited resources. There needs to be someone here with the aunt. Yes, sir. I believe she’s in danger.”
Melanie’s throat constricted. Poor Aunt Sarah! She had never done anyone harm, and now she had been targeted. Melanie knew this whole mess was her fault.
“I can keep an eye on the niece. We just need cover for the aunt.”
Her face heated at the idea of spending so much time with the irritating lieutenant. She remembered his look of contempt back at the house. He didn’t even care that she insisted she was innocent. Even if she had been guilty, she wasn’t the same woman who went to jail four years ago. Not that Lieutenant Tucker would ever believe her.
“Melanie, child.” Aunt Sarah’s whispery voice broke into her reverie.
“Yes, Aunt Sarah?”
“Sing for me. Please. It’s been so long since I heard you sing.”
Melanie’s breathing hitched. She had forgotten how much her aunt had loved to listen to her. Deliberately, she chose a French aria that she knew her aunt loved. As she sang, she allowed her eyes to close, losing herself in the music. When she opened them again, her gaze was caught by a pair of blue eyes. Lieutenant Tucker had returned, and was staring at her with his jaw dropped.
