Chapter 12
Tyler
The interrogation room at the Basin County Sheriff’s Department was exactly what Tyler expected. Beige walls, fluorescent lights, a metal table bolted to the floor, uncomfortable chairs. He’d been in this exact same room before, twelve years earlier, when they’d questioned him about the fire.
History was repeating itself.
Deputy Boverman sat across from him, a folder opened on the table between them.
Edi stood near the door, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
A camera was visible in the corner, its red light blinking steadily.
He looked at the mirror. Was someone watching on the other side?
Maybe, though he hadn’t seen anyone after they finished booking him and led him in.
“Let’s go through this again,” Adam said in a deceptively casual tone. “You knew Sheila Jones.”
“We went to high school together.” Tyler struggled to keep his tone even. How many times was Adam going to ask the same question?
“You dated.”
“Briefly. I’d just graduated, and she was heading into her junior year.” Tyler kept his voice level, forcing himself not to react to Adam’s baiting tone. “We went out for a few months.”
“So you were, what, eighteen? She was sixteen? What are you, a pedophile?”
Tyler shook his head. “I was only seventeen when I graduated, one of the youngest in my class. Turned eighteen on September 4th. Sheila was held back a year, so she was the same age as me.”
Adam glanced toward Edi, who gave a nod. “Sounds right.”
Tyler tried not to take pleasure in Adam looking a little foolish, but he failed. He was reminded of a lawyer show he’d watched once that said, “Never ask a question unless you already know the answer.” Too bad Adam had missed that one.
“But Sheila broke up with you, right?”
“Yes.”
“That must have hurt.”
Tyler met Adam’s eyes. “It was years ago. I got over it.”
“Did you?” Adam leaned forward. “Because it seems like quite a coincidence that you come back to town and your ex-girlfriend suddenly ends up dead.”
“Suddenly? I’ve been living here since December.”
Adam narrowed his eyes. “Still seems like quite a coincidence to me.”
“I had no interest in Sheila then or now. We dated. It ended. I met my wife the next year. Married her. Built a life with Jen. Sheila and I were kids when we dated. It meant nothing in the long run.”
“You were seen at the bank where she worked,” Adam said, flipping through papers in his folder. “Multiple times in recent weeks.”
“I do my banking there. Most people in Irma do.”
“You were seen talking to her. Laughing with her.”
“Edi was there too. We ran into each other at the bank last week and caught up. It was a friendly conversation, nothing more.”
Edi shifted but didn’t speak.
“And Friday night?” Adam pressed. “Security footage shows you at the ATM around six o’clock, the same time Sheila was leaving work.”
“I stopped to get cash on my way to the pub. I play darts there on Friday nights and needed money for drinks and the game buy-in.”
“Convenient.”
“It’s the truth.”
Adam gave a cold smile. “So, you just happened to be at the bank at the exact time your ex-girlfriend was leaving, and you had nothing to do with her death?”
“I had nothing to do with her death,” Tyler said firmly. “I was with friends when the body was found. You already know that. Robert and Sue were with me the entire time.”
“The body had been there for over twenty-four hours before it was discovered, which means Sheila was killed either Friday night or early Saturday. Where were you Friday night?”
“As I said, playing darts at the pub. There were at least a dozen people there who could verify that.”
Adam made a note. “And what time did you leave?”
“Around ten. Went straight home.”
“Alone?”
“Yes. Alone.” Of course, alone. Always alone.
“So, no one can verify your whereabouts after ten o’clock.”
This was exactly the problem. He had an alibi for most of the evening, but after he left the pub, no one could account for his time.
“What about Saturday?” Edi asked, her voice quiet but clear.
Tyler looked at her, grateful for the intervention. “I was at the shop. We open one Saturday a month for people who work during the week.”
“What time?” Edi asked.
“Seven thirty to three thirty. Robert was there the whole time. One of our part-timers was there too. We had customers in and out all day.”
“Can anyone verify you didn’t leave during that time?” Adam jumped back in.
“I already told you. We were there all day.”
“You and Robert?”
“And Andre, he works part-time. He was there too.”
“Robert’s your boss,” Adam said skeptically. “Your friend. The man who’s been vouching for you. You expect us to believe he’s an objective witness?”
“He’s an honest man. He has no reason to lie for me.”
“Doesn’t he? You work for him. He needs mechanics. Seems like he’d have plenty of reason to protect his employee. In fact, you’re his only full-time employee, right?”
Tyler shrugged. He wanted to argue, but he could see it from Adam’s perspective. Robert’s testimony would be seen as biased, tainted by their developing friendship and professional relationship.
“Look,” Tyler said, forcing himself to stay calm. “I understand how this looks. But I didn’t kill Sheila. I had no reason to. We were casual friends. I ran into her occasionally around town. That’s it.”
“Friends,” Adam repeated. “Is that what you call it when you show up at her workplace?”
“I went to the bank. Where I do my banking. Where half the town does their banking.”
“Rumor is Sheila wasn’t invited to your wedding.”
“My wedding? To Jen? Why would I have invited her?”
“If you were such great friends, why wouldn’t you?”
Tyler leaned forward. “You heard she wasn’t invited? Did you hear who was invited?”
“We’re talking about why Sheila wasn’t there.”
“Jen and I eloped. We went to Reno, just the two of us. Not even our families were there.”
Adam leaned back in his chair, studying Tyler with open suspicion. “Here’s what I think happened. You started seeing Sheila again, and those old feelings came back. Maybe she rejected you again. Maybe she said something that triggered memories of your wife leaving you— ”
“My wife didn’t leave me,” Tyler snapped. “She died.”
“Under suspicious circumstances.”
“Under accidental circumstances.”
“Officially,” Adam said. “But we both know there were questions. Just like there are questions now.”
Edi pushed off from the wall. “Deputy, can I speak with you outside?”
Adam’s jaw tightened, but he stood. “Five minutes.”
They left the room, and Tyler buried his face in his hands.
This was bad. Worse than he’d thought. Adam was building a narrative that tied everything together—the fire, Sheila’s death, Tyler’s return to town.
It didn’t matter that the connections were circumstantial.
It was a story people would believe because it fit their existing suspicions about him.
If he were smart, he’d tell Adam he was done talking and wanted a lawyer. Maybe he should’ve done that from the start. But why would he? He was innocent and had nothing to hide.
Adam could think whatever he wanted. Tyler knew the truth. He’d done nothing wrong involving Sheila or his family. He lifted his head and stared into the camera, daring it to find fault in him. A noise from outside drew his attention.
Through the small window in the door, Tyler watched Adam and Edi. Edi’s body language was tense, her gestures sharp. Adam’s face was flushed with anger.
Tyler’s mind drifted to Brooke. She probably thought he was guilty now. How could she not? The evidence seemed plausible, and the timing looked suspicious. She’d be smart to write him off.
But part of him—the part that had felt something real when they talked in her shop, when she’d agreed to go out with him—wished things could be different. He wished he could start fresh and build something with someone who saw him as more than just the cursed man from Basin County.
The door opened, and Adam returned alone. “Deputy Reeves had to take a call. We’ll continue.”
They went through it again. And again. Adam asked the same questions in different ways, trying to catch Tyler in a contradiction. Tyler gave the same answers, knowing how weak they sounded.
An hour passed. Then two. Tyler’s exhaustion was showing. His answers got shorter, and his patience thinner.
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.
Now there was nothing to do but wait.
Tyler lay on the narrow cot, staring at the ceiling.
In the span of a few days, he’d gone from hoping for a fresh start to being accused of murder, from asking Brooke on a date to watching any chance with her disappear, from rebuilding a life to possibly spending it behind bars.
Or worse. Wyoming had the death penalty.
Somewhere out there, the real killer was free, maybe laughing at how perfectly this had worked out.
And Tyler was stuck in jail, powerless to do anything but hope the justice system he’d already learned to distrust would somehow work in his favor this time.
Tyler closed his eyes and thought about Brooke’s smile when she said yes to dinner and about how different things might have been if it hadn’t been Sheila who’d died. If he hadn’t been in the wrong place at the wrong time yet again.
And he thought about who might have killed Sheila and how he was going to prove his innocence when everyone had already decided he was guilty.