“Beartooth Mountains,” Brooke said softly.
“Right. Found in remote locations, dumped after death.” Joe brought the burgers to the table and sat down. “The killer knows the area. Knows how to hide bodies. Has physical strength.”
Tyler reached for a burger. His appetite was gone, but he knew he needed to eat. “That describes half the county.”
“But not half the county has a connection to both victims.” Joe pulled out a timeline. “Look at this. Sheila died sometime Friday night or early Saturday. Tyler has an alibi until about ten o’clock—darts with witnesses. But after that, nothing until meeting Robert and Sue at eight the next morning.”
“I was home,” Tyler said. “Alone.”
“I believe you, but from an investigator’s perspective, that’s a gap.” Joe turned to another page. “Monique died between Friday night and Saturday morning, just like Sheila. Only this time, Tyler has no alibi at all. He was home alone the entire evening.”
“My dart buddies were at elk camp,” Tyler explained to Phil. “Brooke went out with Steph.”
Brooke squeezed Tyler’s hand. “We’ve been over this. The alibis are weak, but it doesn’t mean anything.”
“No,” Joe agreed. “But it makes him look guilty. Which is exactly what someone wants.”
“Both of them were killed on a Friday night or a Saturday morning?” Phil said. “And found on Sunday? That sounds like a pattern.”
“It is,” Joe agreed. “But we don’t know what that pattern means.”
“Whoever did it was off during that time?” Phil suggested.
“Off?” Brooke said. “Off work?”
“Right,” he agreed with a nod.
“Not a stretch,” Joe said. “Weekends off are common.”
Tyler knew Joe was right, but it was interesting that both women were killed in the same timeframe. And he didn’t have an alibi for either time.
They ate while going through the file—articles about the murders, timelines Joe had constructed, lists of people connected to both victims.
Joe was reaching for his burger when he stopped midmotion. “That’s it!”
“What’s it?” Tyler asked.
“Can I see the note again? The one Phil just found on your windshield.”
Tyler pulled it out of the folder and handed it to Joe.
Joe nodded as he read it. “The wording. ‘Threats neutralized.’ That’s not how regular people talk. That’s law enforcement. Military.” Joe picked up the note again. “Civilians don’t say ‘neutralized.’ They say killed. Murdered. Something direct.”
Ice slid down Tyler’s spine. “You think this is from a cop?”
“Or someone with military training. But given the context—” Joe looked around the table.
“Adam,” Tyler said immediately. “He’s been obsessed with proving I’m guilty since the fire.”
“But Adam’s been vocal,” Brooke pointed out. “He arrested you in front of half the town. He shows up everywhere you go. Why would he send anonymous notes?”
“To scare me. To make me leave town.”
“Because he’s a psycho.” Phil leaned back in his chair. “An obsessed psycho. He’s been after you since Jen died, Tyler. You know it. I know it. Everyone does.”
“Boverman writing the note makes sense,” Joe said, tapping the word neutralized with his finger. “Not only is he with the sheriff’s department, but he was in the Army before that.”
“He was in the Army?” Brooke asked, her eyes wide. “And this is like an Army phrase?”
