He's stretched out on the couch at the safe-house. It's dark and quiet, Lena and both girls turned in long ago. Haley hadn't said two words on the way back from the courthouse. She just stared out the window. The D.A. hadn't gotten much out of her either, from what he gathered. She'd threatened to pull the protection, but it was an empty threat to his thinking. Right now, Haley Matthews was their best bet for getting something, anything, to stick on Jameson Reeve and the district attorney was too smart not to recognize that.

He slides his hand into his pocket, rubbing the silky softness of Winona's stolen panties between his fingers and thinking about their afternoon tryst. As much as he still misses her and is ready for their life to get back to normal, those twenty or so minutes in her office definitely helped ease his longing for her. His wife. He has a wife. A beautiful, smart, sexy woman who, for some inexplicable reason, loves him. It isn't anything he ever expected to happen and he wonders how in the hell it did, but there it is. Happiness has managed to find him despite all the shit life threw his way. He laughs to himself and tips the hat down over his eyes. Time to get some sleep, or try.

Either three nights of very little sleep on the uncomfortable couch or the afternoon's activities must have gone a long way toward relaxing him because he falls asleep almost immediately. When he wakes, there's someone in the room. His hand automatically goes for the gun at his hip. He hears breathing, and when his eyes adjust to the darkness he sees her. She's sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor staring at him. He relaxes, dropping his hand back onto the couch.

"Haley?"

"I think they...had...sex with us," the girl says. "When I woke up, my shirt was buttoned crooked, and my underpants were inside out." She lowers her head, that inky curtain of hair blocking her from his gaze again. She's been whispering, but now her voice becomes so quiet that he has to move to the edge of the couch to hear. "I thought I'd gotten my period, but it wasn't that...just a little blood. I know that's what happens when..." She stops and heaves in a breath. He can't tell if she's crying or just working up the nerve to tell the rest. When she doesn't continue he waits a few long minutes.

"Did you talk to any of the other girls?"

A shake of her head. "Not really. A couple of them were sick the next day though.

"Do you remember who you were with?" He can't see her face clearly in the shadows, but the swipe of a hand against her cheek let's him know that she's crying.

"The last thing I remember is having dinner with Parker Reeve, Lindsay, and some other man, Kirk or Kurt...something like that."

"Parker Reeve? Is that Jameson Reeve's son?"

She nods. "One of them. He has, like seven or eight, and a bunch of daughters, too."

"How old is Parker?"

She shrugs. "Old. About your age maybe."

Raylan presses his face into the couch pillow and coughs. Old...about your age. Really? But he guesses thirty was old when he was fifteen. Then he sobers, imagining this man, his age, drugging and raping...because rape is what it was...a fourteen-year-old girl. He clenches his jaw and keeps his voice calmer than he feels He swings his legs over the side of the couch and sits up, running a hand through his hair. "So you had dinner with Parker and this Lindsay...who's Lindsay?"

"Just another one of the girls. I don't know her very well. She seemed really happy to be there, though. She kept telling the rest of us how lucky we were to be 'chosen'." She laughs, much too cynically for someone so young.

"What's the next thing you remember after dinner? Anything before you woke up the next morning?"

"Not really."

He doesn't want to push her too far, but there has to be something else. "Try to remember...anything at all."

She presses her hands to her temples. "I remember this tattoo of a flag, I think. On his chest. There was a picture of it in our history book at my old school."

"Would you recognize it if you saw it again?"

"I think so." She rocks back on her heels. "It said something about 'Liberty or Death'."

"Did you tell any of this to the district attorney today?"

"No. I don't like her much. She's...not very nice." She brushes the hair back from her face and stretches her legs out in front of her.

He's dealt with Allison Tanner before and doesn't disagree, but the job requires a certain demeanor. "They don't pay her to be nice. She has to make a case, Haley, and this is an important one.". He leans forward zeroing in on her. "We need to call her in the morning; tell her what you've told me."

"Do I have to? Can't you just tell her what I said?" She sounds like a much younger child.

"It doesn't work that way."

"Can I tell her over the phone?"

He shakes his head. "She's probably going to want you to come in again, give what they call a deposition, an official statement for the court."

Her eyes meet his in the darkness. "Can you come with me?"

"I don't see why not." He shrugs. "Your mom, too."

"No!" The word bursts from her. "I don't want her there."

"She's your mama. She's going to want to be there and the D.A. is going to want her there."

Now she's crying full out. "I can't tell this in front of her. She won't understand. It'll all be my fault."

He's seen enough of Lena Matthews' parenting style to see why Haley might think so, but in this case he's pretty sure she's wrong. "Haley," he says, soft. "Your mama isn't gonna blame you for bein'..." He stops himself short of using the word raped. "...for what happened. She loves you. That's why she picked up and left with you girls."

The sobs collapse into sniffles, but it's a long time before she speaks. "Okay, I'll talk to her."

"Maybe you could talk to your mama first." He suggests. "That way she'll be able to help when you're talkin' to Ms. Tanner."

"Maybe," Haley says. "Is there any coffee?"

Raylan wonders whether Lena would approve of her daughter drinking coffee, but it seems a little thing all things considered. "No, but we can make some." He stands and heads for the kitchen and Haley follows.

-o-o-O-o-o-

Winona sits in the corner of the interview room and tries not to make eye contact with Raylan. She'd mentioned the possible conflict of interest to the district attorney who conferred with Lena Matthews and said she didn't see a problem. Now Winona's fingers fly across the keys recording Haley's story. It makes her sick to her stomach.

Haley's done talking, leaning against her mother who's whispering in her ear. There's a lull while Allison Turner is making notes, no doubt thinking of more questions she needs to ask. Now, with no words to type, Winona can't help but look at him and the expression on his face tells her he wishes she were anywhere but here, listening to this. He'd hide every bit of the ugliness of his job from her if he could.

"Excuse me," Lena says. "I really think that's enough for today. I'd like to take Haley home."

The D.A. huffs out a breath. "I have a few more questions I'd really like to..."

"I'm sure you do," Lena interrupts. "But I think she's been through enough today. I'm saying 'no'."

Ms. Turner glares at Raylan, who shrugs. "Alright then. I'm tied up in court all day tomorrow. Can we meet on Thursday? Say, two o'clock?"

Lena nods her assent and they all file out into the hall. Chuck Paul is waiting for Raylan. "Go home, Givens. Take the night off. I'll take Mrs. Matthews and Haley home. The other girl is..."

"With Linda in the office," Raylan says.

Winona glances at him, but Raylan's eyes are on Haley. "I'll be back tomorrow," he tells her. Haley nods and walks off between her mother and the chief.

Raylan wraps an arm around Winona's shoulders. "Let's go home."