Thank you for the positive feedback. And PMs with encouraging words. And your patience. My workload has been heavy, as has my work travel, so I've had to relegate fanfiction activities to the weekends. Weekend writing and more complex planning and storytelling (compared to my other stories) have meant longer time between chapters. Thanks for hanging in and continuing to read this story. :)

The four of them were seated around the table in the eat-in kitchen. Tom sat to Vic's left, playing the appreciative guest as he dug into the piece of pie that had been placed before him. Walt sat to her right, fork in hand, his focus switching back and forth between their host and taking in the details of the room in which they were gathered. Joanne Daniels sat across the table from Vic, her slice of pie seemingly forgotten as she stared at the tablecloth, her hands fidgeting with a pack of cigarettes.

Tom had done the talking when they'd first entered the house and awkwardly stood at the front door. The offer of pie and the suggestion to sit at the kitchen table had been eagerly accepted by all. But now, as they sat together and moved past the small talk, silence had settled in.

Placing her forearms on the tabletop, Vic grasped the coffee mug in front of her with both hands. There was a chill in the air she hadn't felt in the front entry or hallway and she envied both men for still having their coats on. She pictured her deputy's jacket which she'd left on the seat in the Bronco.

"Feel free to smoke if you'd like. It's your home." Walt's voice pulled Vic out of her thoughts.

Surprised, Joanne looked over at him, as she pulled her fingers off the cigarette package. "Oh, I don't..." She paused. "I quit. Four years ago."

Walt held Joanne's eyes, not giving away whether he believed her statement or not. As her gaze dropped back down to the cigarettes, she released an audible sigh. "When Tyler's not at home, I sometimes sneak one or two. This week..." She looked up, but didn't look directly at any of them. "It seems to have been more than one or two."

Vic watched as Joanne picked the package back up and then turned to her right and opened the window directly behind her. In a move that seemed well-practiced, she took an empty coffee cup off the table, and placed it on the outer ledge of the window before withdrawing a lighter from her pocket. Scooting her chair closer to the wall, and turning it slightly, Joanne leaned toward the open window as she placed the cigarette between her lips and lit it. Vic now understood why the kitchen was cooler in temperature than the rest of the house. This wasn't Joanne's first smoke that day.

"Tyler made me give up smoking. Back when he was in high school. Hounded me for months until I finally relented."

Walt placed his fork down on the edge of his plate. "Did Mr. Sollinger smoke as well?"

Joanne tapped the cigarette against the edge of the mug to release the ashes and then looked over her shoulder at Walt. "Rich? God no. He's never smoked. It's actually one of the few things he and Tyler agree on."

Turning back toward the window, she took another puff of the cigarette. Without turning around, she bowed her head slightly. "I wasn't always a smoker. I started smoking the last year of marriage to Tyler's father."

Walt interlaced his fingers, placing his hands down on the table in front of him. "It must have been a stressful time."

Vic turned her head slightly to look at Walt. She was always amazed at how well he read people and knew the right things to say, in the right way, to get them to open up. Her gaze lingered on his face, and then fell to his clasped hands.

Joanne's soft chuckle brought her back to the conversation. "Stressful. That's a nice way of putting how things were both before and after the divorce. 'Shitty' is more like it."

Placing the cigarette briefly between her lips, she took a draw and then released an exhale of smoke out the window.

"Supporting the two of us on my own. Being a single parent. It was 'shitty' for a while."

"How long after you and your husband divorced did you meet Mr. Sollinger?"

Another draw on the cigarette. "When did Rich and I...God, it must have been about a year later."

"How did you two meet?"

She laughed as she continued to stare out the window. "I brought my car in to his shop to be fixed. Rich asked me out but I turned him down. With how things had ended with Jesse...I wasn't looking to get involved with anyone. But I wasn't making much money back then, and the cost to repair the car was going to be steep. He offered a discount if I would go on one date with him."

"And he won you over on that first date?"

She shrugged. "I guess I realized it was less 'shitty' to have someone else in it with me."

"But you never married?"

Her head turned slightly toward them, her lips pursed. This probably wasn't the first time she'd been asked about their marital status. "Rich is wary of marriage. His first one ended more disastrously than mine."

Vic leaned forward in her chair. "Rich is accusing Tyler of being the one who robbed the store and assaulting him. Do you believe your son could do this?"

Joanne's gaze once again followed the trail of smoke. "Tyler has never hurt...anyone."

"Has anyone ever hurt Tyler? Does Rich ever beat him?"

Her arm still out the window holding the cigarette, Joanne's eyebrows knotted as she turned toward Vic. "Rich has never laid a hand on him."

"Did Tyler's father ever hurt him?"

Joanne's eyes skated across Vic's face and then kept going, until they landed on something behind her. After a moment, she shook her head. "No." She turned and took a final draw on the cigarette before grinding it into the bottom of the mug.

Vic's eyes darted briefly over to Walt. "Did your ex-husband ever hurt you?"

Rotating in her seat, Joanne turned to face them. "No. Never. We argued, especially towards the end, but he never hit me."

"You say that Rich doesn't physically harm Tyler, but we understand, from both of them, that they don't get along. Has that always been the case?"

"Tyler used to idolize his father. We hid a lot of our arguing from him, so Tyler was surprised when we split. He...he wasn't thrilled that I started dating Rich. I think he thought his father would return."

"Does he see his father?"

"No. It was one of the things Jesse and I argued about. He didn't put his family first. Turns out there was another woman. They have a family now. And moved out of state. He hasn't been back to see Tyler since he left."

"Do Rich and Tyler argue, or just ignore each other?"

Joanne's gaze dropped to the pack of cigarettes. "Depends on the day."

Walt lay his hands on the table, fingers spread. "When we talked to Mr. Sollinger, he had some choice words to say about your son."

Joanne ran her hand through her hair as she raised her eyes to the clock on the wall. "Rich is a little...hard on him."

Walt waited until Joanne's eyes returned to his. "Does he say those things in front of Tyler? To Tyler's face?"

"Rich wants Tyler to live up to his potential. He gets...frustrated...when Tyler doesn't seem...He's just trying to motivate him."

"He says Tyler can be obsessive."

The pack of cigarettes was back in her hands. "Tyler can be many things."

"Is obsessive one of them?"

She flipped the box from one hand to the other and then back again. "He gets...focused on some things. Intensely focused."

"Does he take it to extremes?"

"If you're asking if his intense focus could cause him to hurt someone, I've never seen him take it to that extreme."

"Why do you think Mr. Sollinger has accused your son of doing this if you don't think it's possible that he could have?"

Again Joanne glanced up at the clock. "You'd have to ask him."

"We did. He thinks Tyler's capable and motivated to do so."

Pulling the lid of the pack back, Joanne stared down at the cigarettes. With a shake of her head, she tossed the box on the table, pushed her chair back and stood. She closed the window and then turned back toward them. "I should probably start heading to the hospital. They're releasing Rich today and I promised I'd get there by one o'clock."

Tom stood and pushed his chair in before picking up his plate. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to us, Joanne."

"I'm not sure I was that helpful." She picked up her own plate and began to walk toward the sink.

Tom turned to face her, taking the plate out of her hands. "We're trying to help them both out, Joanne. If Tyler is innocent, we want to be able to prove it. But if Rich is right. If Tyler did this to him, we want to be able to get Tyler the help he needs."

Vic noticed Joanne's chin drop a fraction.

"If there's anything you need to do before going to Sheridan Memorial..." Tom lifted the plates in his hands. "We'll take care of all of this, while you do it."

Joanne paused, and then nodded before heading for the hallway.

Walt looked up at Vic, and then with a quick glance at Joanne's retreating back, slid the file folder across the table. Picking up the remaining plates, he joined Tom at the sink.

Scooping up the folder, Vic quickly stepped up to Joanne's side to join her in the hallway. "Have you lived in this house a long time?"

Joanne paused. "It will be twenty-two years this May. Jesse and I moved in shortly after we married."

"Wow. Twenty-two years is a long time." Vic looked at a black and white photo of a couple hanging to their right on the wall. She saw some resemblance between Joanne and the woman in the picture.

"Are those your parents?"

Joanne looked over at the photograph. "Yes. It was taken about a year before I was born."

Vic looked at the remainder of the mostly empty wall. "I've got to be honest, I'm surprised you don't have more pictures up, given how long you've been in this house."

Joanne glanced down the hallway in the direction Vic was looking. "I did a big purge after the divorce. Even though Tyler still loved his dad, I couldn't look at that jerk's face."

With a quick glance over her shoulder, Vic confirmed that Walt was standing inside the doorway to the kitchen, listening in, unnoticed by Joanne.

"And since then?"

"Tyler refused to take any pictures with Rich in those early years. And then he did his own purge, taking down most of the pictures I still had up."

"Why?"

"He'd lost a lot of weight, and he didn't want any reminders of his former self around the house."

"When was this?"

"His freshman year...or I guess it was that summer before his sophomore year when he took them down."

Joanne stared at the wall, as if she was remembering a photograph that had previously hung there. "He took his father leaving hard. He'd been chubby as a child, but after Jesse left, he just packed on the pounds."

"What got him to lose the weight?"

Joanne blinked, and with a slight shake of her head, started walking again. "He came home from school one day, freshman year, upset. He locked himself in his bedroom and wouldn't come out for two days. When he finally surfaced he..." Again Joanne stopped and stared absently at the wall.

"Do you know what upset him?"

"No. He wouldn't talk about it. But whatever it was really kicked him in gear."

Vic wondered if it had been something Rich had said to Tyler that had motivated him.

"He started using Rich's weights in the basement, and began running every morning before school. He watched these training videos online and constantly read fitness and nutrition blogs. He went into our kitchen one day and threw out all the food he deemed to be bad for us, and ate only protein shakes and salads for three months straight. He was..."

"Intensely focused?"

An almost inaudible laugh escaped from Joanne. "Yeah."

"Was that when he convinced you to stop smoking?"

She nodded.

"What did his friends think about what he was doing?"

"Tyler didn't have many friends back then."

"I understand he's part of an outdoors club now. Have you met any of his friends from that group?"

"No. He goes on all these adventure trips with them, but I think most of them don't live in Sheridan."

"Have you met his girlfriend?"

Joanne paused. "Tyler has a girlfriend?"

Vic reached into the file folder and took out the picture of the two girls that Ferg had found and handed it to her.

Joanne stared down at the photograph. "Which one is his girlfriend?"

"We think it may be the one sitting closer to the dog, but we're not sure. Tyler had that dog with him when we talked to him on Monday. He said it was his girlfriend's, but didn't elaborate any further."

"Well, they're both very pretty. Are they in the outdoors group with him?"

"We think that's a possibility."

"He hasn't brought either of these girls back to the house, or mentioned them. He's always been like that. He tends to keep things to himself."

"How do you feel about the fact that Tyler has decided to commit his time to these outdoor activities instead of going to college right now?"

Joanne rubbed her hand across her eyes. "Rich is pissed. Thinks I shouldn't let him stay here since he thinks Tyler's wasting his brain and any potential he has, and that he's wandering around without any responsibility. I think he gets that restless spirit from his dad, so I'd rather he get it out of his system now, instead of down the road when he has a family. And if he didn't stay here I don't think I'd ever see him."

"Have you seen him this week? I know that Tyler was out of town hiking last weekend. Has he returned since then?"

"He came home on Tuesday night, but he's off on another group trek this weekend."

"Do you know where they're hiking?"

"No."

"Did he say when he'd be back?"

Joanne shook her head.

"Is that unusual that he doesn't tell you where he's headed or when he expects to be back in town?"

"Not really. He's pretty independent. He moved his bedroom down to the basement so he could come and go as he pleases. There's an entrance directly into the basement on the side of the house."

Vic glanced over at Walt, who had appeared with Tom in the hallway behind them, before looking back at Joanne. "Can you show us?"

XX

As they waited at the intersection for the light to turn green, she watched Walt's hands as they grasped the steering wheel. She loved when he tapped his fingers when he was deep in thought, like he was now. She suspected he didn't even realize he did it.

Turning her head, her eyes landed on his face. His lower lip was sucked in. Another sign he was churning through thoughts. "So, what do you think? Shirt on or off?"

"Off." Walt blinked twice. "Wait, what are we talking about?"

Vic laughed. "You just said you wanted my shirt off, so what situation were you considering with that answer?"

The corners of his mouth lifted but he didn't respond as he moved his foot from the brake to the gas.

She laughed harder. "I was referring to when we go in to talk to Evan Brandt."

He glanced over at her. "I think, for Evan's sake, you should be wearing a shirt."

She smacked his arm. "Thanks, wise-ass. I meant should I change in to my uniform shirt before we talk to him?"

"You'll have on your jacket while we're talking to him, so it won't really make a difference what you have on underneath."

"Are you back to making a case for why I don't need a shirt on at all?"

This time it was Walt who laughed. "To clarify...I think you should stay dressed as you are now."

"Are you saying keep my shirt on now, but later..." She arched an eyebrow suggestively.

Walt shook his head as he pulled the Bronco in to a parking spot and shut off the engine. "I'm withdrawing from this conversation, as I don't think I can win."

Vic reached for the door handle, but looked over her shoulder at him with a mischievous look in her eye. "If I'm not wearing a shirt at some point, I think you could say that you did win." And on that note, she opened the door and stepped out of the truck.

XX

From where they stood near the front entrance, Vic watched Evan talking to a customer at the counter. She heard him thank the woman for shopping at the store, before handing her a bag.

As they drew closer to the register, Evan looked up, his smile fading when he recognized them.

Vic gave him a reassuring smile. "Hi Evan."

Evan nodded as he picked up the pen on the counter and placed it in the nearby cup. "Hi."

"Are you manning the store alone?"

He paused and then shook his head. "That's my brother over there." He pointed to a man in his late twenties talking to a couple near the camping equipment.

"Is there somewhere in the back of the store where we could talk?"

"Uh...yeah. Let me just tell James."

Walt and Vic walked to the end of the counter to wait for Evan, who made his way down the aisle toward his brother.

Walt cleared his throat. "Do you like camping?"

"I haven't really gone other than a couple times I went as a kid." She looked over at the sleeping bags. "Unless you count that time that I was keeping my eye on Branch and spent the night freezing my ass off on the hard ground. If that's your version of camping, then 'no,' I'm not much of a fan."

"I've seen Branch's version of camping, and I'm not a fan either."

Vic looked around the store. "My family was more team sport-oriented than outdoorsy."

"A Philadelphia thing?"

She nodded. "And a Moretti thing."

She looked over at him. "What about you—"

But before she could get her question out, Evan came around the corner. "Ok. I've talked to James."

With a glance at Walt, Vic followed Evan to the back of the store.

As they walked through the doorway, Evan stopped. "This is where he came through. The guy that robbed the store last Saturday." He walked them down a hallway. "And this is the back door. How he entered."

Evan propped the door open to give them a view of the area in back of the store.

When they were finished looking around, he walked them over to an office. "Can I get either of you something to drink?"

Vic unzipped her jacket. "No, thanks."

Walt shook his head.

Evan pulled a third chair over to the desk, and gestured for Vic, who was closest, to take it. As Vic took a seat, she looked up at the wall behind Evan. It was almost completely covered in pictures of Evan and James and others rock climbing, hiking, camping, mountain biking and snowboarding.

"You guys sure love the outdoors."

Evan glanced back at the wall. "Yeah."

"How did you get into this stuff?"

"Uh...my parents, I guess. Plus, James and his friends were really into all of it, and he let me tag along a lot of the time."

"Well it looks like this store is perfect for the two of you."

"Yeah. We're pretty lucky."

Evan's eyes flicked over to Walt, who hadn't said a word. Walt was scanning the pictures, and Vic knew it wasn't just out of interest in Evan's pastime.

Leaning forward, his forearms resting on the edge of the desk, Walt turned his gaze toward Evan.

"Evan, we've learned how you and Tuck Jensen are connected."

Evan didn't say anything in response, but Vic detected a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"We came across the report from the car crash that resulted in Tuck's mother's death back in May."

Evan's gaze dropped.

"We saw your name listed as the driver of the other car."

Evan continued to look down at the desk.

"We know that it was an accident." Walt shifted in his seat. "We believe you know that Tuck is Olivia Jensen's son. What we don't understand is why you kept this information from us."

Evan brought his hand to the back of his neck but didn't look up.

Walt waited.

Dropping his hand to his lap, Evan rubbed the edge of his cast. "I don't know...I...I didn't think it was relevant to the case...the fact that I recognize him because of something that happened five months ago."

"It was a pretty big something."

Evan looked up at Walt. "Are...are you saying the car accident has something to do with the robberies?"

"You tell us. Do you think there is a connection?"

"I...I don't think so."

Drumming his fingers along the desktop, Walt stayed focused on Evan's face, while Vic's attention was once again held by Walt's hands. At his voice she tore her eyes away and looked back up.

"Have you made any contact with Tuck since the accident?"

"No."

"You haven't gone down to UW to seek him out, or even to Durant when he was home from school?"

"No."

"And you haven't run across him here in Sheridan?"

His brow creasing in confusion, Evan shook his head.

Vic leaned forward. "What about Nick?"

He shifted his gaze to her. "Nick?"

"We assume you told Nick about Tuck."

Evan paused and then nodded his head.

"Do you think Nick has made contact with Tuck?"

Evan's confused look returned. "Why would he do that?"

"Maybe Tuck initiated something and Nick got involved."

"Tuck hasn't. Initiated. And Nick hasn't done anything."

"You're sure about that?"

"Yes."

"Who else knows about the accident?"

Vic saw Walt turn his focus back to the wall of pictures.

"My family."

She held Evan's eyes. "Anyone else?"

"I...uh...I don't know. I don't really talk about it. It was right after I graduated, so I haven't really been around a lot of people who'd I'd want to tell."

"Any chance someone from your family got involved? James, maybe?"

Evan shook his head. "James has been too busy with the store and the clinics we run to get involved in...anything."

"What about the UW game you two go to every year? Have you gone down to Laramie for the game this year?"

"Yes, but James was with me the whole time. We never crossed paths with Tuck. Plus, he knows who Tuck is because he plays for the Cowboys, but I haven't told him he's related to the woman who was in the car I hit."

"Have you or Nick reached out to Tuck on Facebook or any other site?"

"No."

"Has Tuck or any of his friends reached out to you?"

"No."

"So five months ago a car accident occurred that connected the two of you, and last week, someone decided to rob both of the stores you work at purely by coincidence?"

His eyes flicked between the two of them. "I...I guess."

Vic pointed a thumb in Walt's direction. "The sheriff here doesn't believe in coincidences."

Vic glanced over at Walt, expecting him to back up the statement she had just made, but instead he rose from his seat, and walked around the desk. His hands went to his hips as he zeroed in on a picture on the wall that she couldn't see from where she was seated. After a moment he turned around, reached across the desk and picked up the file folder in front of her.

He turned back toward the wall and pointed to a picture, and then looked over at Evan. "Who are these girls?"

As she stood up, craning her neck to see which picture he was pointing to, Walt raised the picture he had taken from the case file. The one they had shown earlier to Joanne Daniels.

Evan looked at the picture on the wall and then at the one in Walt's hand.

"The one on the right is named Jessica. The girl on her left is her friend, but I can't remember her name. Kayla. Or Kacey. I think it began with a 'k.'"

"How do you know these girls?"

He pointed to the picture on the wall. "This one was taken during the clinic we held in May up in Billings for a Trailhead group. That's where I met the girls."

"Was that the only time you've seen them?"

"Umm...Jessica and I hung out one time after that."

Vic stepped closer to them, and then leaned back against the desk. "Like a date? You asked her out?"

Evan stared at the picture. "I guess she asked me out."

"When did she ask you out."

"Uh...at the end of the clinic. While I was packing up the truck."

"Where did you go for your date?"

Evan scratched the side of his neck with his hand. "Uh...a place called Steepworld. It's a climbing gym that's not too far from campus."

"The MSU campus in Billings?"

"Yeah. That's where we both went to school. She was a freshman, I think."

"And you only went out that once?"

"Yeah."

Vic crossed her arms in front of her. "You weren't into her?"

"It...it wasn't that. After..." He paused and ducked his head. "After the car accident I...uh...I kind of avoided her calls. Everyone's calls. She eventually gave up."

"Did Jessica mention that she knew Tyler Daniels?" Vic flipped open the file folder and pulled out a picture of Tyler. "We asked you about him the last time we talked. You told us he was at the same bike clinic."

"Uh, no...I don't remember her talking about him when we went out."

"Do you remember Tyler and Jessica talking to each other during the clinic?"

"I wasn't really paying attention to who was talking to each other." Again he looked between them. "What does Jessica have to do with all this?"

Walt held up the picture of the girls again. "Tyler had Jessica's dog with him when we talked to him on Monday. He said that the dog belonged to his girlfriend."

Evan straightened. "Do you think Jessica was involved in the robberies?"

"We don't know. We want to find Jessica so we can talk to her."

"I...I don't know her that well, but I can't picture her being involved. She was...really nice. And, besides, she was like five feet tall, so she definitely couldn't have been the one breaking into the stores."

"Do you know where she lives?"

"She lived on campus last year. I can't remember which dorm."

"Do you have her phone number and her last name?"

Evan dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After searching through his contacts, he turned the phone toward Vic. "Her last name is Suarez."

Vic looked down at the screen and then wrote down the number.

Evan's hand dropped and she looked up and found him staring down at the file folder which lay open on the desk. Tuck's picture was visible, and Evan's eyes were fixed on it.

"How's Tuck doing?"

Walt took a step toward the desk. "Given all that's happened to him, he's doing ok. They've scheduled his next surgery."

Evan exhaled, his eyes closing as he bent his head. "What a shit year."

She didn't know if he meant his year, or Tuck's, or if he had even meant to say it out loud, but when he looked up she saw his eyes were moist. Quickly running his hand over his face, he moved toward the door. "I..." His voice cracked, and he started again. "I need to get back out front."

XX

Vic folded and unfolded the paper napkin in her hand. "I'm guessing this isn't what you had in mind when you asked me to go to dinner."

Walt looked around the bar. "Nope."

She smiled. "We may need a dinner do-over."

She saw a grin start to form on his lips as he dipped his head slightly toward her. "I'm actually pretty good at those. Do-overs."

She bumped the side of his right arm with her left shoulder. "I've heard that about you."

Placing three beers on the table, Tom Haskill slid onto the bench across from them in the booth. "They'll be over with menus in a moment." He moved two of the bottles closer to them. "Ever been here before, Vic?"

Vic shook her head. "Don't think so."

"I've brought Walt here a few times. Well, probably more than a few. The service can be slow, but the staff is friendly, and the food is good, so we put up with it. Plus, it isn't far from the office."

"It kind of reminds me of a bar and grille back in Philly."

A waitress appeared and dropped three menus in front of Tom. "Be right with you fellas."

Vic's eyebrows arched as she watched the waitress walk over to another table.

Tom laughed as he handed Vic a menu. "I wouldn't take it personally. I'm sure she didn't even look at your side of the booth, and just assumed I was here with some of my deputies."

"Yep. Definitely reminds me of that bar back home." She glanced down at her menu. "So, what's good here?"

"It's all pretty good, but they're known for their reuben."

Walt picked up his beer but didn't look up from his menu. "Vic doesn't like corned beef."

She saw Tom lift his head and look at Walt as he took a sip from the bottle, but dropped her eyes to her own menu before his attention shifted to her.

"Evening Sheriff. So what can I get you boys?" The waitress looked down at Tom, pad and pen in hand, smile at full wattage.

"A reuben for me Molly." Tom handed over his menu.

"Sure thing, Sheriff."

Walt closed his menu. "I'll have the same."

The waitress turned her smile on Walt, tapping him in the shoulder with the menu in her hands. "Is that all, Sheriff? I still can't convince you to go for a salad?"

The corners of his mouth lifted as he held up his menu for her to take.

Feeling a burr of irritation, Vic leaned across Walt and handed her menu over. "I'll take your 'All-American,' Molly. And you convinced me. I'll have a side salad instead of fries."

Molly paused, her pen on her notepad, and looked over at Vic. Vic noticed she wasn't greeted with the toothy smile she'd bestowed on the other two, so she gave her a big grin of her own.

Molly blinked, a smile sliding back into place. "How do you want your burger?"

Vic deliberately stayed close to Walt as she leaned in to the table. "Medium. And the vinaigrette dressing for the salad."

Molly finished writing down the order and then flashed a smile at Tom. "Alrighty then. I'll be back with your sandwiches in a bit." She headed for the kitchen, a noticeable sway in her hips.

With an eye roll, Vic picked up her beer, and leaned back, looking across the table at Tom. "You mentioned that you had someone looking into Jessica Suarez."

Bending his right arm, Tom hooked it on the back of the booth seat.

"Leo found her Facebook page and confirmed she's a student at MSU Billings."

"Did you find any connection between her and Tyler, other than the fact that he had that picture posted?"

"Tyler is not listed as one of her Facebook friends and we didn't find any pictures of the two of them together on either of their accounts. We were able to determine that the other girl in the picture is named Kelsey Dunn."

"Did you find an address for either girl?"

"The university's register office is closed for the weekend, so we don't have access to their campus housing information. Jessica's cell phone is under her parents account. They live in Livingston, Montana. We haven't been able to reach them. We tried Jessica's phone as well, but it goes straight to voicemail."

"What about the Trailhead group? Do we know if either girl is actually a member? We might be able to get their contact info through them."

"We've got an email into the contact listed for the group, but it could be some time before we hear back. With it being the weekend, and knowing that these folks like to be outdoors whenever they can, they might not be checking email."

Walt cupped his chin in thought, his fingers slowly sliding along his jaw. "Since there's a chance the girls are a part of the Trailhead group, we might be able to find out some information about them from the two kids who vouched for Tyler on Saturday morning. Cody and Bryce."

Tom looked at his watch. "We could get our meals to go, and then head to the office and give them a call."

"We called them yesterday. Cody's roommate said they're hiking until Sunday, but that they'd be back by noon." He looked over at Vic. "You and I could head up to Billings tomorrow and see what they know about Jessica. Tyler as well."

She nodded. "Sounds like the best option we have right now."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw their waitress approaching their table. With a smile, Molly lowered two plates with reubens in front of Walt and Tom. With barely a glance at Vic, she called over her shoulder. "I'll be right back with yours, hon."

Vic pressed her lips together and nodded. "Sure."

When both men held back from starting on their sandwiches, she leaned into the table. "You guys should start eating. You never know how long it might take to throw a side salad together."

The corner of Walt's mouth lifted at her sarcasm. "We can wait."

Molly returned, and placed Vic's burger on the table. "Is there anything else I can get you fell—"

Tom laughed, with an apologetic look at Vic. "I think we're good Molly."

"Well, wave me over when you're ready for the next round."

"We will. Thanks."

Vic picked up her burger and took a bite, her eyes closing in appreciation. Given how good the burgers were, she could only imagine how good the reubens must be if they were what the bar was known for.

Walt picked up his beer and looked over at Tom. "Any luck locating Tyler?"

Lowering his sandwich, Tom finished chewing before responding. "We saw the same posts your deputy did, stating that Tyler was at Devils Tower yesterday. He hasn't posted any status updates today, and his phone goes directly to voicemail as well. We put a call into the Crook County Sheriff's Office over in Sundance, to let them know we're looking for the kid. We sent them Tyler's picture, but I'm not counting on them being able to find him. He could be anywhere in the Black Hills, and may have already moved on."

"Did you get anything more out of Rich or Joanne when you went with her to the hospital?"

Tom shook his head as he took his own swig of beer. "Both of them still claim to not know where he is or when he'll be back. Rich still believes Tyler was involved, so I think he'd tell us if he had any insight into Tyler's whereabouts. I asked him to call us when Tyler returns home."

"I bet he has your number on speed dial."

Vic looked over at Walt. "Speed dial?"

"Yeah." His brow lifted. "What?"

"Who says that anymore? Everybody has everybody on speed dial, since everyone but you has a cell phone where you can call someone with the press of a button."

Walt grinned. "I've heard of those. Cell phones."

She grinned "I know. You borrow mine, instead of manning up and getting one of your own. Remind me to show you the speed dial feature next time you use it."

Walt laughed before bringing his beer to his lips.

Vic reached out and stole a fry off his plate. Once again his eyebrow lifted. "I thought you wanted a salad instead of fries."

She claimed another, consuming it quickly. "This way I get both."

She picked up the bottle of ketchup from the end of the table, and unscrewed the cap. As the red condiment slowly dripped on to Walt's plate she looked up at him. "And I'm willing to share my salad. I know it would make Molly happy."

Tom laughed from his side of the table, causing a grin to break out on Vic's face.

Walt tried to hide his smile. "I'm not sure it's an even exchange."

Vic shrugged as she concentrated on spearing her fork through a grape tomato. "I'm sure I'll find a way to make it up to you." She froze as she heard her own words, and their suggested meaning, and lifted her head. "Tomorrow...when we're on our way to Billings. I'm sure we'll be stopping for food at some point, and you can steal my fries."

Tom laughed again, but she noticed his eyes flick between the two of them. She didn't know if she wanted to look over at Walt to see if he had noticed.

Diversionary tactics were needed. She leaned in to the table as she swiped another fry. "So tell me Tom, if their burgers are this good, how are their desserts? With all this healthy salad eating, I think I've earned something sweet."

XX

"So what do you think? Do you believe Joanne Daniels? That Tyler isn't capable of going to extremes? Of hurting someone else?"

Beer in one hand, the open file folder in his lap, Walt looked up at her from his seated position on the floor. "I think anyone is capable of violence in the right circumstances."

His long legs were stretched out under his coffee table, the right side of his body leaning against the far end of his couch. She was seated on the other end of the couch, her back against the arm rest, her legs bent, the bottoms of her bare feet on the middle cushion.

She closed her laptop. "So if Tyler is involved, what are the circumstances? Does it have something to do with his dislike of Rich? Of his tough-love approach to how he motivates Tyler? Is the girl the reason? Is the girl involved? And how is Tyler connected to anyone in Durant? We still haven't figured that out."

Placing the folder on the floor, Walt shifted, bringing his right arm to rest along the cushion. His hand landed near her foot.

"We need to find someone who knows Tyler, but is less biased than Joanne or Rich."

"And you think that could be Cody or...what's the other one named?"

"Bryce."

"You think Cody or Bryce, who vouched for him, are going to be less biased?"

"There's a chance. Or, at least they might be able to direct us to someone else who is."

"What do think about the girlfriend, and her potential involvement?"

He took a long sip of beer as he thought about her question, his fingers wrapping around her ankle while he stared across the room at the fireplace. "Do you find it strange that there is no sign of the two of them together online? Don't kids like to publicly document their relationships these days?"

She finished the last sip of her own beer to mask her enjoyment of his touch. "Yeah, it is strange. Especially if they're into the same activities, you'd think there would be more photographic evidence that they were hanging out."

"Well, at least we know that Jessica is another connection point between Tyler and Evan. The dog, and the picture of the girls connect Tyler to Jessica, and the date between Jessica and Evan connects those two."

"And the bike clinic in May connects all three of them."

"Yep." He turned to face her, his gaze steady, before bringing the can to his lips again.

She smiled. "Working here is much better than a late night at the office. Plus, there's beer. Why did we never do this before?"

Walt's hand on her ankle stilled. "This probably wouldn't have been a good idea...before."

Her smile faded. "Probably not."

He held her eyes a little longer and then slowly extracted himself from the floor. He took a step and then reached out. "Want me to take that?"

She handed him the empty can and then watched him make his way into the kitchen, already missing the warmth of his touch. When he arrived at the sink, she turned back around, leaned over and placed her laptop on the coffee table.

A couple minutes passed and then Walt's hand, holding a glass of water, appeared before her. She took the glass from him, and then watched as he sat down at the edge of the cushion, near her hip.

He looked over at her, his eyes softening. "It's late. I should probably take you home."

She held his eyes as she looked over at him. "Or..." She took a sip of water. "You don't take me home." She graced him with a smile.

"Are you planning on walking?"

Her smile grew. "No." Again she took a sip to mask how much she liked his nearness, and how nervous she was that he would turn down her suggestion.

Placing his hand between her side and the back of the couch, he leaned across her mid-section and brought his shoulder to rest on the back cushion as he continued to look over at her. "You're not sick of me yet? It's been over twenty-four hours that we've been together."

She twisted her lips as she pretended to think about it. "Nope. Are you sick of me?"

He took ahold of the hem of the top she was wearing. "Nope."

Her eyes fell to his hand, watching as he played with the edge of her shirt.

After a moment he released the material from his grasp, pulled the glass from her hands and took a sip. "If you stay, it will be at least another fifteen or more hours in my company, since we're heading up to Billings in the morning."

She wrapped her hand around his upper arm, her eyes sliding back to his. "I know."

"You're not going to get sick of me halfway through the drive, when it's too late and you're stuck with me, are you?

She smiled and then shook her head.

He drank again and then leaned over her to place the glass on the end table. She swallowed, and held her breath. When he pulled back, he hovered over her, his eyes locking on hers.

"Do you want to talk about...what's going on between us?"

She let the air she'd been holding out and shook her head. At his arched eyebrow she gave a small smile.

"If we talk we might...I don't want us to talk ourselves out of this."

He continued to look down at her. "What if we should talk ourselves out of this?"

She swallowed again, her mouth feeling dry. "Do you think we should talk ourselves out of this?"

He blinked, but said nothing. She reminded herself to breathe. She saw him suck in his lower lip, and wondered what he was thinking. And then suddenly his face was close to hers. He paused, hovering just above, his breath warm, but his lips still not touching hers. She ran a hand up his arm, and then grasped the fabric near his shoulder. She felt his mouth lightly press against hers. As she moved her hand across his upper back, his lips pressed against hers more firmly, but when she slid her feet across the cushions to straighten her legs across the length of the couch he pulled back.

He looked down at her silently, and then placed his right hand at her side, giving a little tug. She part scooted down, as he part pulled her, until her head rested on the cushion and she was looking up at him.

And then he was sliding on top of her, his legs stretching out between her legs, his chest pressing against hers, his arms on either side.

When his lips found hers this time, there was no hesitation.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips and pulled him in closer.

His hand slipped below the hem of her shirt and lay warm against her skin, before sliding up her back.

Pulling her arms from his shoulders, she grabbed his shirt and pulled it from the back of his jeans. When she moved to his chest and unfastened the top two snaps, he pulled back again. She paused, looking up at him, and then sat up, and unsnapped the remainder. He pulled his arms out of the sleeves, and then reached out and pulled her shirt over her head.

She laid back down, and he followed, and the feeling of their skin-to-skin contact made her breath catch. He looked down at her, and tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear.

She smiled up at him. "This is so much better than a late night at the office. Why didn't we do it sooner?"

His hand at her cheek stilled. "This definitely wouldn't have been a good idea...before."

This time her smile grew. "Probably not."

"Probably? Not definitely?"

She shrugged, her grin intact. "You never know."

He skimmed his thumb across her eyebrow. "No. I guess you don't."

XX

Vic's slowly opened her eyes. She blinked, and then focused, finding herself looking at Walt's chin. Her head lay near his shoulder and the left half of her body covered the left half of his, her right side flush against the back of the couch.

Her right arm was below her, wedged against Walt's side and slightly numb from being in that position for so long. Her left arm was flung across his bare chest, and their legs lay tangled beneath the blanket he must have placed across them at some point during the night.

She wondered what time it was, but was too tired to look for her phone in the pile of clothes on the floor or even to move Walt's arm closer to get a look at his watch. Besides, she was enjoying the position of his left hand across her lower back.

She stared at his face, and then watched his chest rise and fall. She was surprised that she had woken before him, what with him being a morning person and she...well...not being one.

It was then that she heard a sound, and she stilled.

The creak sounded again, and Vic lifted her head, her eyes flying to the front door, which she suddenly realized was open. Standing inside the doorway, propping open the screen door, stood Cady. Frozen where she stood, lips parted, eyes large, and both eyebrows raised in surprise.

Vic started to pull herself up, and then, remembering her state of undress, pulled the blanket covering the lower halves of their bodies up to her chest.

Her movement seemed to jar Cady into motion, who stumbled back, and then turned, letting the screen door close behind her.

"Shit."

Vic pressed her hand into Walt's chest.

"Walt."

He didn't stir.

She tried again, this time shaking his shoulder.

"Walt. Wake up."

"Hmm?" His eyes stayed closed, but his hand ran down her backside.

She pulled herself up, glancing down at their clothes on the floor, and then shook him harder.

"Walt. Cady's here."

As she crawled over him to lean down and pick up her shirt she'd finally spotted, his eyes flew open.

"What?"

Perched on the edge of the couch cushion near his chest, Vic pulled her shirt over her head before leaning over to pick up her underwear. "Cady was standing in the doorway when I woke up. She saw us. Sleeping. Like this." She waved, indicating their nakedness.

Walt bolted up. "Where is she?"

"She ran off the porch, but I didn't hear her jeep start, so I think she's still here."

He swung his legs to the floor as Vic handed him his boxers.

She leaned down again, rounding up his jeans and shirt, and handing them to him as she straightened.

Boxers on, Walt stood and stepped into his jeans. When he started snapping his shirt up, Vic rose to stand before him, her hand coming to rest on his chest.

"It's going to be ok."

As he tucked his shirt into his jeans, he stared back at her with a look that clearly indicated that he did not feel the same way.

She lifted her hand to smooth down his mussed hair, and then let it fall to his upper arm.

His eyes fell to her hand, but then he blinked, pulled away from her grasp, and turned. At the door he bent to pull on his boots.

When he straightened, before he could push open the screen door, Vic placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him toward her.

She brought him in for a deep kiss, and then pulled back holding his face close to hers. "Don't let her freak you out...about this...about us."

His eyes lifted briefly and held hers, and then he stepped back and pushed through the door.

Vic ran her hand across her face. Shit.