us where she got off.” The detective named an intersection he could place, but wasn’t all that familiar with. It was easily twenty miles from the vineyard that was situated halfway between Santa Raquel and Santa Barbara. “Do you have any idea why she’d get off there? Is there someone she knows in the area? Someplace you used to go?”
“No. I... We’ve never been there. I have no idea....”
He tried to remember, forcing his throbbing head to work overtime. Had Tatum attended a birthday party in Santa Raquel, maybe?
“She loves to go to the beach,” he said, for lack of any better ideas.
And there were a handful of them a hell of a lot closer than Santa Raquel. Besides, Tatum knew better than to go to the beach alone.
“We’ve got officers canvassing the area,” Morris told him. “Someone has to have seen her.”
He was beginning to think more clearly. He headed to the truck, about to get to know that unfamiliar neighborhood really well. “Was she alone?”
“As far as we can tell. The driver said she was the only person to board the bus about a mile from your place.”
He knew the stop. Little more than a bench on a country corner. How in the hell had Tatum gotten there?
Harcourt. He had to have taken her. Had to know where she was.
“He said there was an older woman who got off when she did, but they didn’t seem to know each other and went in opposite directions. She didn’t fit the description of a druggie or a homeless person and he didn’t recognize her from the picture you had of your mother.”
Tatum didn’t know any other older women that he was aware of. “Harcourt’s got to be meeting her later tonight. When he can get away without anyone noticing.”
“We’ve spoken with his parents. He won’t be getting out of their sight tonight.”
“So if she’s waiting for him someplace, she’s going to be alone in the dark.” He wasn’t sure which was worse, Tatum alone with Harcourt all night or out by herself.
Or with Tammy.
He feared that the lesser of two evils was the young man he’d banned her from seeing.
In his truck, driving toward the main road, Tanner said, “Can we call them and have them give him his freedom? Just in case. He could lead us to her.”
“I’ll give them a call,” Morris said, not sounding happy about the prospect. “But if they don’t want their son used as bait, I can’t blame them.”
Tanner could, though. If not for their corrupt son, Tatum and Tanner would still be okay, sitting at home, ignoring each other.
Ringing off, he pushed the pedal to the floor, determined to make twenty miles in fewer minutes than that.
* * *
“WE’RE GOING TO have to let the police know where you are.” Sedona needed a lot more answers. And had no more time. “They’re wasting valuable dollars searching for you.”
The eyes that looked over at her were filled with fear. And resignation, as well. It was a look far too mature for a fifteen-year-old girl to be wearing. “They’re going to send me home with Tanner,” she said, without a hint of a whine. “This will all be for nothing.”
“If Tanner’s hitting you I can ask for an emergency order to have you kept away from him, at least until the state has time to investigate your allegations.”
“I told you, I’m not going to report him to the police.”
A response that wasn’t all that unusual in domestic situations where the abused also loved their abusers.
“You’re a minor, Tatum. And you told me about it. I’m legally obligated to report it.”
“I’ll just deny having told you. Or I’ll say I lied. I thought this was a safe place. Where I could come and just tell someone here and have a place to stay until I can get settled on my own.”
“You’re fifteen. You not only have to finish high school, but you’re under your brother’s guardianship. He’s legally responsible for you.”
“I’m not reporting him.” Tatum crossed her arms, her face set.
“Why not? If he’s hurting you, he needs help, Tatum.”
Her gaze darting around the subtly lit garden, Tatum straightened, flicking her long blond hair over her shoulder. “It’ll be my word against his,” she said. “I don’t have any proof. It’s not like I took pictures. Or even told anyone. They’re going to think I’m just a fifteen-year-old kid who’s mad at him because he won’t let me be with my boyfriend.”
Sedona couldn’t deny the possibility. She’d already thought of it and had to be straight with her client. Even though, technically, Tatum couldn’t be her client without her brother’s, or the court’s, approval.
“Is that what’s happening here?”
“No!” Tatum’s eyes widened and she faced Sedona squarely. “I’m pissed at him about Del, yes, but I’m not just a spoiled kid who can’t take no for an answer. I’m here to find answers.”
“What kind of answers?”
Tatum sat back. “You know, about what someone does when they’re a victim of domestic violence.”
Tatum could be playing them. She could just be saying the right words. And if she was, she’d be caught out. If she wasn’t, and they sent her home...
Sedona couldn’t take a chance on sending this young girl back to get beat up on again. Statistics showed that domestic violence issues in the home escalated from incident to incident. The next time Tatum might not just get off with a few bruises.
“I have another suggestion,” she said, believing that, under the circumstances, it was the best option for the moment.
“What?”
“I can try to talk your brother, to let him know that you aren’t missing and haven’t run away so that he can alert the police to drop their search. And then ask him if he’d be willing to let you stay here—even if it’s just for a day or two, until we get this settled.”
“It’ll take a lot more than a day or two for anything to get settled with Tanner. More like a lifetime.”
“Either way, we’re out of time,” Sedona said, aware that Lila would be pacing her office, looking at the clock.
They could only pretend not to see the news bulletins for so long.
“What’ll happen to me tonight if I tell the cops that Tanner hit me? Which I’m not going to do. I already told you that. But what would happen to me if I did?”
“I can’t say for sure. I can probably arrange to have you spend the night here tonight. But they might come for you in the morning. And then it will be largely up to
