Finally, Adam stood. “You’re free to go. For now.”
When Tyler emerged from the station, the sky had already begun to tint toward evening.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Brooke’s number.
It rang once. Twice. Three times.
Voicemail.
Tyler ended the call and tried again, his thumb shaking slightly as he pressed her name.
Voicemail.
He stood in the parking lot, phone in hand, the sick feeling in his gut spreading like poison through his veins.
Was she avoiding him? Had she decided he was guilty after all? Had that moment of doubt he’d seen in her eyes grown into certainty during the hours he’d been gone?
The thought made him want to get in his truck and drive. Keep driving until Basin County was a memory, until he could start over somewhere new where no one knew his name or his history.
But he’d tried that already. For twelve years he’d run, and it hadn’t worked.
He wasn’t running this time.
Even if Brooke had given up on him. Even if everyone in this town thought he was a killer.
He wasn’t running.
Chapter 23
Brooke
Brooke arrived at the coffee shop at five to start prep. Becky came in thirty minutes later.
“Are you okay?” Becky said, gesturing to Brooke’s bandage and bruises.
“I’ll live.”
“You should’ve taken today off.”
“Probably,” Brooke agreed. “But I need to be here today. Staying home will drive me crazy. I called in one of our part-timers to help out. She’ll be in at eight. Then I can take it easy if need be.”
“Good plan,” Becky agreed.
By seven, when they unlocked the doors, a line had already formed outside.
Rare for a Monday. Rare for any day.
The first customer through the door was Livi Beckett, who usually came in on Wednesdays on her way back from yoga. She exclaimed about Brooke’s injuries as she ordered a sugar-free vanilla latte with oat milk, paid, then lingered at the counter instead of moving to the pickup area.
“Terrible about Monique Stanton,” Livi said, her voice pitched just loud enough to carry. “Did you know her?”
“Not well.” Brooke kept her tone casual as she rang up the next customer.
“They say she went to school with that mechanic, the one who was at Gina’s yesterday when the deputies came. Heard you were there too.”
Brooke’s hands paused on the register. How did Livi know Tyler had been at Gina’s house? The answer came immediately: small town. Someone had seen the patrol cars. Someone always saw everything. She loved living in Irma, but some days...
“Tyler Gillis,” Livi continued. “Poor man lost his wife and child in that fire years back. I didn’t live here then, but my friend Rachael did. Now two women from his past turn up dead right after he comes home. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
