When the beans were ready, she filled the french press with hot water to warm it. She emptied it as the kettle began to whistle and poured a slow stream of boiling water over the grounds. The sharp scent rose and spread throughthe room. She stirred the mixture, counted to thirty, and finished pouring the water. As the coffee steeped, she fixed her eyes on the swirl, finally letting some of the thoughts that had kept her awake most of the night settle in.
Rusty Jones was out of line, likely fueled by too much beer and grief and anger over his ex-wife’s death. But still, out of line or not, Brooke kind of understood. Tyler had already been tried and convicted by the press and the Basin County grapevine.
She realized now they were dumb to think going to Elkridge would be safe. The old saying that Wyoming was a small town with long streets held true.
She pushed the plunger slowly, counting to ten to avoid rushing. Patience was the key to a perfect french press.
With her coffee perfectly dressed with heavy cream and a splash of vanilla sugar, she made her way to the couch.
What kind of life could they even have together?
Last night gave her a glimpse of how it might be. They couldn’t even go to dinner in another town without violence finding them. Rusty had recognized Tyler, made a scene, and attacked him in a restaurant full of people.
And Brooke had broken a chair over the man.
The thing was, she’d do it again. Brooke knew she would. She was convinced Rusty could kill Tyler. The booze and anger prevented him from using good judgment. Or maybe Rusty was simply a bad person. Either way, Tyler’s life was in danger, and Brooke did what she had to do.
Still...she hated being put in that position. She’d never been in a fight before. Never had to defend someone by using furniture as a weapon. She ran a coffee shop. She trained for ultramarathons. She lived a quiet, normal life.
Or she had, before Tyler.
Brooke pulled her knees to her chest. The bruises from her attack two weeks ago were mostly faded now. She still had yellow-green marks on her arms where she’d fought back, and the cut on her head had healed to a thin line under her hair.
She’d survived that. Survived being attacked on the trail by someone in a ski mask. Survived wondering if she was going to die alone in the woods.
And now she was with someone the entire town—the entire county, maybe even the whole state—thought was a murderer.
Lots of people were convinced Tyler was guilty. She heard it every day at the coffee shop. Customers who used to be friendly now gave her looks, whispered when they thought she couldn’t hear, or questioned her judgment.
Just like with Kelsey.
Except this was worse because she’d chosen Tyler. She’d decided to be with him despite the warnings, despite the evidence, despite everyone telling her she was making a mistake.
What if they were right?
No. Brooke shook her head. Tyler wasn’t guilty. She knew that and believed it completely.
But belief didn’t change reality. It didn’t change the fact that being with him meant constant scrutiny, constant judgment, constant fear that violence would find them again.
The coffee shop had always been a place where people felt comfortable. Now it felt tense. Some regulars stopped coming. Others still came, but their actions were different than before this mess started.
The shop was still busy, busier than before, but the energy had changed. Patrons lingered with watchful eyes,phones at the ready, as if waiting to see what would happen next and record it to share with the world.
Even though she and Tyler avoided going out in public in Irma, people still drew the connection between them. After last night, she was certain there’d be plenty of talk.
She knew things at the auto shop were no different. Customers still brought in their vehicles, but some asked Tyler not to handle the work himself. He didn’t say anything, but she could see the concern in him and knew he was worried about his job, worried Robert and Sue would get tired of the constant circus and scrutiny.
Brooke knew the trouble wouldn’t stop until someone uncovered who had really killed Sheila and Monique. She also knew Adam Boverman was fixated on Tyler’s guilt, and she suspected he wasn’t even searching for the real killer.
Edi Reeves was still off the case and now considered a witness, which was a shame because Brooke knew Edi believed Tyler was innocent. A few days earlier, she had stopped by the coffee shop and dropped hints that Brooke had noticed. Woven through the hints was a clear message that, regardless of his guilt, Brooke would be wise to avoid Tyler.
So much for Edi being a friend. She might have thought Tyler was innocent, but she wasn’t willing to stand beside him. A fair-weather friend, that’s what she was.
At least Adam had stopped staking out her house, and Tyler’s house and work. Brooke knew that was thanks to her friend Steph.
When Brooke had finally had enough, she’d called Steph and asked if there was anything she could do to help with the continued harassment. Steph made a phone call to the sheriff, and things had been better.
Steph used to be engaged to the sheriff’s son, and as far as he was concerned, she was family. Family pulled a lot of weight in Basin County.
