Finally, a knock on the door interrupted them. A man in an ill-fitting suit stepped in carrying a worn briefcase.
“I’m here for Tyler Gillis,” he said, setting his briefcase on the table. “My client has nothing further to say.”
Tyler studied the man. Young, maybe late twenties. Nervous energy radiating off him. Not exactly inspiring confidence.
“Fine.” Adam stood. “We’re done here anyway. For now.”
The lawyer—he introduced himself quickly, but Tyler didn’t catch the name—sat down as Adam left. “Let me see what we’re dealing with.”
“Who called you?”
“Pardon?”
“How’d you know to come here and represent me?”
“Oh, a call came in that you needed representation. My boss sent me.”
“I don’t understand. I didn’t call, nor did I put down a retainer.”
He shrugged. “I was told to come here, so I came. Now, what’s the problem?” The lawyer flipped through some paperwork, and Tyler felt the reality of his situation settling over him.
He was in serious trouble. Real, life-destroying trouble. The kind that didn’t go away just because you were innocent.
The evidence was circumstantial, but it was there. The motive was thin, but Adam was making it sound convincing. The community already suspected him because of the fire. Now they had a new reason to believe the worst.
He could go to prison for something he didn’t do. Just like with the fire, he was being accused of a crime he didn’t commit. Only this time, it seemed they might have something on him. They had to have something, right? Otherwise, they couldn’t have arrested him. Something manufactured, but it might be enough to convince a jury.
But alongside the fear and despair, anger was building. Hot and bright and clarifying.
Someone had killed Sheila. Someone had taken a woman Tyler had known since childhood and ended her life. Left her body in the mountains to be scavenged by bears.
And that same someone—intentionally or not—was framing him for it.
The timing was almost too perfect. Tyler came back to town, reconnected with old friends, started building a life again, and then Sheila died in a way that pointed directly at him.
Tyler needed to figure out who and why. But from a jail cell, with a nervous young lawyer and the entire sheriff’s department convinced of his guilt, what could he possibly do?
“So,” the lawyer said, looking up from the papers, his face pale, “you’ve been accused of murder?”
“Uh, yeah? What did you think you were coming here for?”
The man shook his head. “I didn’t know. As I said, this is uncommon. I’ve only been on the job a few weeks, and my boss told me to get down here. It’s usually traffic stuff. DUI sometimes. A fight in a bar. But murder...this is Irma.”
Tyler shrugged. “I didn’t do it.”
“Oh, yeah, of course not. Is this the first time you’ve been accused of murder?”
Tyler laughed at the absurdity of the question.
“Is that a yes? If so, that’s good. Juries like first-time offenders.”
“I’m not an offender at all.”
“Right, right. I get it. I just meant...” The lawyer trailed off, shuffling papers nervously.
This was not going well.
Hours later, Tyler sat alone in a holding cell. The attorney had left after explaining the bail hearing process and the timeline for arraignment.
