“Oh?” Rene’s eyes flickered back and forth between them, as if she couldn’t decide who was the greater threat.
“Hauled him in a couple times for drunk and disorderly. Once for simple assault in a bar fight. Not a new thing based on his record. I’m guessin’ the bar isn’t the only place he gets aggressive after he’s had a few.”
“A man has a right to a few drinks in peace.” The words fell from her like rote. Clearly a common phrase in the Forbes household.
“Not everybody can drink responsibly. Some people get foolish. Some get mean. It’s not their fault. Just how they’re wired. Those kinda people need help learning how to handle it.”
“He’s not gonna want help. If I wasn’t so stupid all the time—”
“You’re not stupid.” Miranda snapped the words like a bullwhip. She cursed herself as Rene flinched back at the tone.
Chill out. You’re not the one being called stupid. But Miranda couldn’t stop the instant flash of temper that particular term engendered, no matter who it was directed at. Gentling her voice, she repeated it as she wrapped the arm with cotton padding. “You’re not stupid. Don’t let him tell you that you are.”
Rene’s throat worked. “How…how would this work?”
Miranda all but held her breath as she began to wrap the Scotchcast around Rene’s wrist.
“Well now, I’ll take a statement about what he did to you. I know that’s likely to be difficult. Dr. Campbell will stay right here with you, if you want.”
“Of course, I will.”
“Given Harley’s history, I’d then have to bring him in to the station to talk to him about what happened. And chances are, I’d have to arrest him.”
“Arrest? No. No no no. You can’t do that.”
“I’m afraid that’s how we’d get him in front of the judge. He’s the only one with the power to order Harley into treatment.”
“I’m not doing that. I’m not. I won’t turn in my husband.” Rene’s breathing went short, her voice rising.
Miranda choked back a curse. But Ethan stayed steady as a rock. “It’s a scary thing going up against somebody who’s got power over you. Someone who’s hurt you. Nobody can make you do it. We won’t push you about it today. But I’m gonna give you my card. It’s got my number at the station and my cell number. If ever you feel ready to press charges, or if you need help, or if you’re just scared and need to talk, you call. All right?”
Rene didn’t answer, so he just tucked the card into the purse by her side.
“I’ll just let y’all finish up with that cast. I hope you feel better soon, Mrs. Forbes.”
With one last look at Miranda that told her he’d be waiting when she was through, he slipped out the door.
Miranda took a hard grip on her temper. She finished up the cast in silence, with her patient staring at the floor. Once she’d applied the final wrap, she stayed calm and professional as she gave Rene her discharge instructions. As the woman slid off the exam table, Miranda stopped her. “Chief Greer is a good man. He wants to help you, just like I do. We’re here whenever you’re ready.”
Rene jerked a nod. “Am I finished?”
“Yeah.”
The woman couldn’t get out fast enough.
Miranda stayed where she was. A minute later, Ethan came back into the room.
Frustrated and heartsick, she scooped a hand through her hair. “I thought I’d convinced her this time.”
“I wish I could say this kind of thing didn’t happen all the time. I expect you know that.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. It’s always so hard to balance walking the line between HIPPA regulations and duty to report. And worrying over whether they’ll stop seeking treatment if the incidents are reported.”
“Hey, you tried. That’s more than a lot of people would do. Plenty of others look the other way.”
Miranda lifted her gaze to his. “I have never been that person.”
His lips curved, just a little, as if he appreciated that about her. Then he sobered again. “She wasn’t going to press charges. Not when she got up close and personal with the idea. But I’ll still make a report, add it to the file. Every little bit of evidence helps.”
“I’ll write up what I saw. I have no problem testifying about it, should it come to that. He’s escalating.”
“That’s my read, too. Believe me, I’m keeping an eye on Forbes. He does anything else I can put him away for, I’ll do it.”
“Let’s just hope nobody else ends up in the hospital when he does it.”
“Your mouth to God’s ear.” He shifted, reaching into his pocket for something. “Speaking of reports. You haven’t picked yours up.”
Miranda reached automatically for the folded paper he offered. “We’ve been swamped this week. Thanks for bringing it by.”
He shrugged. “Since I was coming over anyway.” His radio crackled. Without breaking eye contact, he answered the call. “Greer.”
The dispatcher came back. “Chief, we’ve got a report of a theft off of Buddy Dibley’s grill.”
“You mean somebody stole his grill?”
“No, sir. Somebody stole the ribs he was cooking right off it.”
Ethan’s face went slack with shock. “Come again?”
“You heard me. Texting you the address.”
Clearly baffled, Ethan looked to Miranda. “I used to track dangerous fugitives for a living. This is my life now,” he muttered.
Miranda hadn’t thought she could smile again so soon. “I’m sure Buddy would appreciate those investigative skills being put to the cause of locating his ribs. He’s spent the last five years trying to beat Abe Costello in the annual summer barbeque cook-off.”
His lips twitched up into an answering grin and wow. It transformed his sober face into something that set her pulse tripping. “So you’re saying it’s prospective espionage in the name of barbeque?”
Miranda shrugged. “It could happen.”
“Never a dull moment.” He nodded at her again with that hat tipping motion. “See you around, Doc.”
Saturday morning, as he was setting up for the hunter safety course in the community center gym, Ethan was still thinking about Miranda Campbell. Big-hearted, beautiful Miranda Campbell, who wanted desperately to help a woman who was so entrenched in the cycle of abuse, she wasn’t likely to ever listen. A foolhardy effort maybe, but Ethan had to admire her conviction in doing what was right.
He’d been on edge the last couple of days, fully expecting a call for another domestic disturbance or a bar fight in conjunction with Harley. But all had been quiet. The guy was bad news. In his career as a U.S. Marshal, Ethan had chased the worst of the worst. He knew the type. It wasn’t a question of if Harley would go over the edge, but when. The waiting made him twitchy. As a Marshal, it hadn’t been his job to build a case to confirm someone’s guilt. By the time they’d been brought in, someone else had already done that. He’d had a warrant and a fugitive and a mission of bringing them in before they had a chance to hurt anyone else. He didn’t have that liberty here. Without Rene being willing to press charges, his hands were tied. Even if everybody in town knew he was beating his wife, without witnesses willing to testify about it, he couldn’t get the bastard off the streets.