Delivering Justice. Barb Han

Frustration ate at Tyler.

      “You’re right on both counts, but he has every right to go where he pleases for now. As far as I can tell no crime has been committed.”

      “He’s hurting her.” Tyler clenched his fists.

      “Which is a shame, but not against the law unless someone witnesses it or she steps forward on her own to press charges.”

      “It should be.” Tyler knew this guy was up to no good.

      “I’ll stay on him. If he so much as makes a wrong turn while he’s in town I’ll question him for it,” Tommy said.

      “There has to be more you can do than that,” Tyler said.

      “We can scare him,” Tommy said after thinking about it for a minute. “We better get back inside. I don’t want to leave him alone with her longer than we have to.”

      “I have a few more questions for him,” Tyler said through clenched teeth.

      Tommy paused before opening the door. “Go ahead and ask everything you want. See if you can get him to mess up and admit to something. Without her willing to go against him, we have nothing otherwise.”

      Milton stood, rising to his full height when they reentered the room, which was still considerably less than both of the other men.

      “Earlier, you said you lost your fiancée after a fight?” Tyler took up his position leaning against the wall near the doorjamb.

      “She was tired and decided to turn back but I wasn’t ready to go, so I told her how to find her way to our original meet-up point.” Was Milton changing his story?

      “I thought you said the two of you got into a fight,” Tyler said.

      Milton glanced down and to the right, a sure sign he was about to lie.

      “That’s what we fought about,” he said, quickly recovering, as pleased with himself as if he’d just won the big stuffed animal at the state fair.

      Clearly the man had just made another mistake. First he said he lost her, then he said that she turned back on purpose—which was it?

      “You can’t have it both ways, so pick one,” Tyler said point-blank.

      “Well, originally she said she was going to turn back, but then I got a bad feeling about her being out there alone in a place she didn’t know and so I turned back to look for her, thus find her.” Another satisfied smirk crossed Milton’s features.

      If that wasn’t a sack of dung bigger than a bull, Tyler didn’t know what was. Who did Milton think he was fooling?

      Tyler’s right hand fisted. He flexed and then forced it to relax.

      “Good that you had time to clean yourself up, you know, while you were so busy being worried about your fiancée here,” Tyler pressed.

      Another frustrated pause.

      “When I couldn’t find Jennifer I figured she got angry at me for leaving her, so I decided to be ready to smooth things over when she came back to the motel,” Milton said.

      “Even though you couldn’t find her when you went looking for her? You still assumed she’d be able to find her way back?” Tyler asked, not letting up. “And where was this meet-up point you mentioned?”

      Milton didn’t answer.

      In all honesty, the man could walk out at any time. But then, that would leave Jennifer alone with Tyler and the sheriff. No way did James Milton want that.

      “What are you doing in town, anyway?” Tyler continued.

      “We came for the...nature. We wanted to get out of the city for a long weekend and decompress before kicking our wedding plans into high gear,” Milton said. “Life from here on out is going to be crazy, isn’t it, honey?” Milton shot another look at Red.

      “What trail were you on? Do you remember anything about it that stuck out?” Tyler asked.

      “Not really.” Milton shrugged.

      “Was it rocky or were there trees?”

      “Trees,” Milton said, trying a little too hard to sound convincing.

      “Which direction did you come from?” Tyler asked.

      “We came from the north,” Milton supplied.

      Tyler didn’t immediately respond.

      “You sure about that?” he finally asked.

      “Yeah. North, right, honey?” Milton said, glancing down at Jennifer.

      She managed a weak smile and a nod.

      No one got to Diablo’s Rock from the north on an ATV. Tire tracks at the scene indicated the opposite. Tyler slanted a look at Tommy.

      “That’s impossible,” Tyler said. “Tracks came from the south.”

      Anyone could get confused in an area they aren’t familiar with, but this guy wouldn’t be confused about direction because he was wearing one of those expensive compass watches.

      “Guess I didn’t notice.” Milton shrugged. “If I’m not under arrest, then can we be finished with this conversation?” His lips flattened, indicating his patience had run out.

      Well, guess what, buddy? So had Tyler’s.

      And they were far from done.

       Chapter Three

      “Where’s the doctor?” Milton asked, rotating toward Jennifer and effectively turning his back on Tyler and Tommy. “How much longer do you have to stay in here?”

      “In a hurry to go somewhere, Mr. Milton?” Sheriff Tommy asked, blond eyebrow arched.

      “I’d like to get her home where I can take better care of her,” Milton said. “It’s impossible to get any rest in one of these places.”

      “And where is home?” Tommy asked.

      “Louisiana, like on my license. You saw that earlier,” Milton said. “You’d like to come home with me, wouldn’t you, darling?”

      There he went with that darling business again. Tyler wanted to vomit. Again, Milton was pouring it on a little thick.

      While Tommy was finishing his interview, Tyler excused himself in order to talk to Jennifer’s doctor, Dr. McConnell.

      McConnell was a no-nonsense middle-aged woman who’d been working at the hospital since graduating medical school. A local, she wore jeans and boots under her white coat and she’d been a close family friend since longer than Tyler could remember.

      “Is there any chance she’s being abused?” he asked McConnell when he was sure they were out of earshot.

      “I’m bound by oath not to respond to that question,” Dr. McConnell said. “However, since you found her, I don’t mind telling you that she has quite a few bruises on both of her arms.”

      “I’m guessing that’s a yes,” he said.

      “She’s been through a lot.” McConnell frowned. “I’m not saying she’s been abused, but even if she has there’s no way to prove anything. And, of course, nothing can be done unless a victim is willing to talk about it or press charges.”

      “In theory, would you have offered that kind of help by now?” he asked.

      “I would’ve. We’re not talking about a child here, where I’d be forced to report suspected abuse and Tommy could step in,” Dr. McConnell said. “I can only help patients who want it.”

      Tyler didn’t like what he heard.

      “When