“Brooke— ”
“You’re an investigative journalist. You seem to have contacts on top of contacts. And you just know things. If anyone can figure this out, it’s you.”
“I’ve been looking into it,” Joe said carefully. “You know that. But I’m not sure getting more involved is a good idea.”
“You think I’m not already involved?”
“You are, but this could be different.”
“Why?”
“Because you might not like what we discover.” His voice was gentle but firm. “Can you handle it if Tyler really is guilty? If the evidence is right and your instincts are wrong?”
The question hit hard. Brooke thought about Kelsey. About how wrong she’d been, how her judgment had nearly gotten them all killed. About the pit in her stomach that said maybe this was the same thing happening again.
“I need to know,” she said quietly. “Even if it destroys me. I can’t live with this uncertainty. Besides, I’d rather find out the truth myself than read about it in the paper later.”
Joe was quiet for a long moment. “All right. Come over. We’ll go through everything.”
*****
Joe’s townhouse was small but organized—up to a point, anyway. It held entirely too much stuff for Brooke’s liking, but she understood it reflected who he was. Newspaper clippings and printed articles covered one wall. In the corner, a multi-paneled desktop setup glowed on a narrow table, looking like the command center of a one-man newsroom. His laptop sat open on the coffee table, multiple tabs crowding the screen.
“Want something to drink?” he asked. “Coke? I also have iced tea.”
“Coke is great,” she said.
He brought them each a can of soda and motioned to the couch. “I have some things already queued on the laptop for us.”
“You’ve been busy,” Brooke said, settling onto the couch.
“I’ve been working on this off and on since you found Sheila’s remains.” Joe grabbed a notebook from the desk. “The thing about murder investigations is that they’re built on timelines. Who was where and when. What they were doing. Who can verify it.”
“And Tyler’s timeline doesn’t look good.”
“It leaves questions.” Joe flipped open the notebook. “Let’s go through it. Not assuming anything. Just looking at facts.”
He started with Sheila. First detailing how she moved to Irma as a young girl, her dad taking a job with an oil company based in Basin County, overseeing operations in northwest Wyoming.
She attended Irma schools from kindergarten through her high school graduation. Around the time Sheilaentered middle school, her dad lost his job. There was some talk of wrongdoing on his part, possibly embezzlement of company funds, but nothing further came of it past rumors.
“The Irma grapevine,” Brooke said. “It’s always been strong.”
“Yep. I reached out to a few people I know who are around the same age as Sheila’s dad. Got a lot more info than the little bit the newspaper ran with. Her dad had a rough patch. Couldn’t find work for about eighteen months. Sheila’s mom waitressed and took odd jobs. I’m sure it was a difficult time for the family.”
Joe shared a few more things about Sheila’s adolescent years, including how her dad eventually found a job and things seemed to return to normal for the family.
“After graduating from Irma High School, she went to Casper for college. Sometime during those first months, she met her first husband, Shane Jenkins. They were married in mid-December, and she didn’t return to college after winter break.” Joe flipped the page.
“Like her dad, Shane worked for an oil company, but instead of being upper management, he was a rig worker. Two weeks on, two weeks off. The marriage lasted less than two years. Sheila returned to Irma after the split. She held a variety of jobs and eventually met Rusty Jones. I believe you know Mr. Jones.” Joe paused to meet Brooke’s gaze.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Don’t remind me.”
“Rusty has a history of his own. Last night wasn’t the first time he’s been in a barroom brawl.”
“We were at a steakhouse. Not exactly the place for brawling.”
“Still...He’s been arrested for similar activities before and spent more than one night in the drunk tank. During his marriage to Sheila, the cops responded to noise disturbances several times.”
