Delivering Justice. Barb Han

Even though he wanted to take James Milton out back and teach him a thing or two about why real men didn’t hurt women, the reality was that there wasn’t much else he could do at the hospital.

      Tommy seemed to be wrapping things up by the time Tyler returned to the room. As much as it soured him to do so, Tyler shook James Milton’s hand. Milton’s wasn’t moist or hot, indicating that he was fairly relaxed about the situation.

      But should he be?

      A man who hit a woman might be a practiced liar. Tyler didn’t care much for people who couldn’t be bothered to tell the truth. And this jerk was poised to walk right out the door and go scot-free. He hadn’t violated any laws that Tommy could arrest him for. Tyler could see Tommy’s frustration written all over his face.

      “One last thing,” Tommy said to Milton. “Did you have permission to ride on the O’Brien ranch?”

      “Permission?” Milton echoed. His eyes widened when he heard the name O’Brien. Most people knew it and had a similar reaction.

      “The land that you and your fiancée were riding ATVs on is owned by the O’Brien family,” Tommy continued. “It’s protected by a fence and No Trespassing signs are posted everywhere. I’ve been out hunting on that property myself. So, my question to you is, were you aware that you were breaking the law when you took your recreational vehicles on the land?”

      “Well, no, we hadn’t planned on being on his property. We got lost. Is that a crime?” For the first time in the interview, Milton looked like he might break a sweat.

      “Being lost? No. Trespassing on someone else’s land and destroying their property? Yes.” Tommy turned to Tyler. “Will you be pressing charges today, Mr. O’Brien?”

      Tyler might not be able to stop Jennifer from walking out of the hospital with this jerk but he could slow them down.

      “As a matter of fact, I will,” Tyler said, shifting his gaze to Milton. “You say that you innocently got lost, but how do I know that you weren’t out on my property, illegally hunting?”

      “I don’t own a gun, for one,” Milton shot back.

      Tyler figured that Tommy could check the gun registration database all day long and not find a gun registered to James Milton. That didn’t mean he wasn’t carrying one anyway. There was no shortage of illegal guns on the black market and in the hands of people who had no business with them.

      “I can’t know that for sure. Besides, you might’ve ditched it when you realized you were close to getting caught. In fact, I have another scenario worth the sheriff’s consideration,” Tyler said.

      “Care to enlighten me?” But Milton’s gaze said the opposite.

      “How about this? You take your fiancée here on a hunting trip on my land. We offer excursions but you don’t want to pay the price. You decide to do things on your own. But then you hear someone and you know you’re about to get caught. Rather than risk it, you take off, leaving your fiancée to fend for herself. You go hide in your motel room waiting for her to come back. You clean up because you don’t want to risk anyone realizing you might’ve been outside. But here comes the problem. Your fiancée gets herself in trouble and ends up in the hospital, so you make up this wild story about the two of you fighting to cover for the fact that you were illegally hunting on my property,” Tyler said, his gaze zeroed in on Milton.

      “You can’t be serious.” Milton’s gaze darted from Tyler to Tommy as he took a step back. A few more and he’d be in the corner.

      “Sure I can,” Tyler shot back, watching Milton’s reaction.

      “Can I see your hunting license, Mr. Milton?” Tommy asked.

      Milton balked. “I don’t have one. I’ve already told you that I don’t even own a gun.”

      “Did you realize that you’d need one?” Tommy continued.

      “I didn’t come here to hunt. I wasn’t out looking for game on his land.” Milton shot daggers toward Tyler before narrowing his gaze when he looked at Tommy again. “I’ll ask again. Am I under arrest?”

      “If you were, we’d be having a different conversation right now, Mr. Milton. One that would include reading your Miranda rights to you. Since I haven’t done that yet, you’re free to go.” Tommy turned toward the door. “But I have every intention of investigating Mr. O’Brien’s complaint. In which case, I’m advising you not to leave town until this dispute has been resolved.”

      It was weak. Tyler knew enough about the law to know that, but Tommy was betting that Milton didn’t realize it.

      “I have no plans to go anywhere until my Jennifer is better. And then I have every intention of driving out of this town and back to Louisiana,” Milton said.

      “Mind if I speak to you privately, Mr. Milton?” Tommy shot a wink toward Tyler so subtle he barely caught it.

      Tyler immediately caught on. He grabbed the pen and paper off the wheeled tray table and jotted down his cell number. Then, he moved to the bed next to Jennifer.

      “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

      She nodded, looking resolved. If she was engaged to Milton, then wouldn’t she seem more comforted by his presence? Tyler figured he could rack his brain trying to solve that and other mysteries for the rest of his life and still come up short. There wasn’t much else he could do or say if he stuck around. Red...Jennifer, he corrected himself, seemed intent on staying with this jerk. Just in case she changed her mind and wanted a friend, he folded up the piece of paper into a tiny square.

      “You change your mind or need anything, call me.” He managed to slip it under her pillow before Milton returned.

      Tyler figured it might help him sleep at night, knowing he’d done everything he could.

      Heck, who was he kidding? Those sea-green eyes were going to haunt him.

      * * *

      TYLER’S CELL BUZZED. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was hours until the sun would rise. The noise should’ve jolted him awake but his eyes had barely closed all night thinking about Red.

      He threw off the covers and walked over to the dresser where his phone sat on its charger, thinking what he really needed to clear his head was a night on the town and a stiff drink.

      The number didn’t look familiar but he answered anyway.

      “I don’t have anyone else to call. Please help me.” The frail voice on the other end of the line belonged to Red.

      Was she ready to talk? To get out of the relationship with Milton? To get help?

      “Are you there?” she asked. Panic raised her voice a couple of octaves.

      “Yes,” he said. “As long as you’re ready to tell me what’s really going on.”

      “I’m sorry about before. It’s just...” She paused, sounding almost too tired or scared to finish what she started to say. “If he finds out I’m talking to you, to anyone, then I’m dead.”

      “Seems to me that he’s going to hurt you either way, Jennifer,” Tyler said.

      “My name isn’t Jennifer. It’s Jessica,” she confided.

      “I saw your driver’s license,” he said, chalking up the mistake to her head injury.

      “Please, give me a chance to explain,” she begged. “I’m not who I said I was. I know who I am and my name is Jessica.”

       Chapter Four

      “Okay.” The handsome cowboy paused as if he was seriously considering what Jessica had just said. “Is the license a fake?”

      “No.”