Delete.
Hey, just wanted to say
Delete.
What was wrong with him? He’d faced down murder accusations, survived losing everything, and rebuilt his entire life. But texting a woman he’d kissed made him feel like a nervous teenager.
Play it cool. Don’t come on too strong. Give her space.
He shoved the phone back in his pocket and focused on the brake pads.
“You’ve checked that phone about forty times,” Robert said, appearing beside the car. “Why don’t you just call her?”
“I’m working.”
“You’re obsessing.” Robert’s grin was infuriating. “Just text her. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Tyler didn’t answer. Because the worst that could happen was that she’d realize getting involved with him was a mistake. That the reality of dating someone accused of murder was too much. That last night had been a moment of weakness she regretted in the light of day.
“What have you got to lose?” Robert said, walking away. “Think about it.”
Tyler did think about it—for an entire hour, while he finished what he was working on and then moved on to the next car. His phone stayed in his pocket, a constant weight against his leg.
Finally, at noon, he wiped his hands on a shop rag. “I’m going to grab lunch. Want me to pick up something?”
“Subs from Riverside?” Sue suggested. “Haven’t had those in a while.”
“Sounds good. Robert?”
“I’m in. Thanks, Tyler.”
After taking their sandwich orders, Tyler headed to his truck.
He climbed in and reached for the keys. That’s when he saw it.
A piece of paper, folded once, was tucked under the windshield wiper on the driver’s side.
He got out and pulled the paper free.
Generic printer paper. Plain black text.
You should’ve stayed away. You have blood on your hands. Who’s next?
Tyler read it twice. Three times. The words didn’t change.
You have blood on your hands.
Jen. Garrett. The fire. Sheila? Someone was throwing that in his face. Someone who thought he was guilty, who wanted him to know they were watching.
He scanned the parking lot. There were a few cars belonging to customers, but the street beyond was mostly empty except for a handful of vehicles. No one was watching. Not that he could see, at least.
Who’s next?
Brooke.
His chest constricted. He looked around the parking lot again, more carefully this time. Someone had been there. Someone had put this on his truck while he was working fifteen feet away.
Henry the game warden. He’d threatened him earlier, subtle but there, even Robert had noticed it. Now this?
