Chapter 13
Brooke
The Wednesday evening group run met at the golf course.
The group followed a variety of routes around town.
One amazing thing about Irma was the number of biking and walking paths the town had added a few years earlier as part of a development plan to attract more tourism.
While most of the paths were paved, some were packed dirt.
The club’s system was to check the weather report after each run to see what was predicted for the coming week. Rain had been expected for today, which made the paved trail surrounding the greens the perfect choice.
Instead of rain, they were met with oppressive heat. Brooke would’ve preferred one of the trails outside of town, where the trees offered shade or the path followed the river. But they were here.
She knew the run’s location was not what truly bothered her. What lingered was Tyler’s arrest earlier that day. She had nearly skipped the run altogether, but she hoped the miles might help. Even as she stretched, she doubted they would.
Tonight, there were maybe fifteen people milling around, stretching and chatting while they waited for the stragglers. Brooke recognized all of them—this was her community, her people, the ones who understood that sometimes you just needed to run until your mind went quiet.
Yet she recognized their discomfort. They deliberately avoided mentioning what they all knew had happened earlier at her coffee shop. Some avoided her altogether; others looked away when she glanced their way. The tension settled hard in her gut.
“Hey.” Gina appeared beside her, touching her arm. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay,” she lied, staring at her shoes.
“Really?” Gina’s skeptical tone said she didn’t believe it for a second.
“Really,” Brooke insisted, meeting her gaze with a smile, trying to convince herself as much as Gina. “This will help keep me from thinking too much.”
Nick joined them and slipped an arm around Gina’s waist. “Thinking about anything in particular?”
Before Brooke could answer, Joe jogged up. “Sorry I’m late. I had a call with an editor that ran long.”
“I heard you were back in town,” Brooke said, genuinely happy to see him. “How was your trip?”
Something shifted in Joe’s expression. It was brief, but Brooke caught it.
“It was good.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Sure. Fine. Glad to be back. Sorry to hear about what happened to you. I feel terrible that I canceled at the last minute like that. If I had known . . . ”
“I know.” Brooke nodded. “When did you get back? You had the article out on Monday.”
“Yeah, I was back Sunday on the late afternoon flight. I heard about it while I was at Denver Airport waiting for my connecting flight. I didn’t know it was you then.”
“You heard about it while you were in Denver?” Brooke shook her head. Joe was new in town, having only moved there earlier in the year, but he still seemed to know everything that happened before anyone else.
“Only the basics. At that time, I didn’t have all the details.”
“Thanks for keeping my name out of it as long as you did.” She gave him what she hoped passed for a grateful smile.
Joe’s expression turned sympathetic. “I heard about what happened today. At your coffee shop. Are you okay?”
“Everyone keeps asking me that.”
“Because everyone’s worried,” Gina said gently.
“I’m fine. I just want to run and not think about dead bodies or murder arrests or any of it for an hour.”
“Fair enough,” Nick said. “Looks like they’re about ready.” He gestured toward the rest of the group.
Steph motioned them over. “You all ready?” she asked as they approached.
“Are you running?” She was wearing sandals instead of runners, her right pinky toe taped to the toe beside it.
“Not today. It hurts to even walk. I’m not at all happy about it.”
Brooke understood. “Have you started training?”
“Am I ever not training?” Steph laughed. “But yeah. Loosely. The real training happens when the weather shifts.”
Like Brooke, Steph loved trail running. But, unlike Brooke, she’d successfully completed several one hundred milers, including the elusive Moose Range Run 100 that Brooke couldn’t seem to conquer.
A few years earlier, Steph had started winter racing, taking on shorter distances in snow and cold before tackling an ultramarathon that crossed the Continental Divide.
Brooke admired Steph’s spirit and dedication, but thought her goal was way too ambitious.
Even the training, alone in the snow and cold, could be deadly.
“Okay, gang,” Steph said. “I’ll be waiting here to cheer you on when you finish the loop.”
They were about to head out when a red sports car pulled into the parking lot. Adam climbed out, dressed in running gear.
“Who invited him?” Gina murmured.
“I didn’t know he ran with the group,” Nick said quietly.
“He doesn’t,” Brooke replied, watching as Adam grabbed a water bottle from his vehicle. “Or at least he never has before.”
Adam jogged over. “Hope you don’t mind me joining. I need to keep in shape for work, and running alone gets boring.”
“The more the merrier,” Joe said, though his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced.
They set off on the loop, the group naturally spread out based on pace, with faster runners pulling ahead and slower ones dropping back.
Brooke found herself in the middle of the pack with Gina, Nick, Joe, and Adam. Exactly where she didn’t want to be, given Adam’s presence.
“So,” Adam said, matching her stride, “how are you doing? Really?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve been through a lot. Finding the body, then discovering Tyler was involved.”
“Allegedly involved,” Brooke corrected, her breath coming faster as they hit a slight incline.
“Sure, sure. Allegedly.” Adam’s tone suggested he didn’t believe in Tyler’s innocence for a second. “I just want you to know we’re building a strong case. We’ll get the evidence to convict him, not only for Sheila’s death but for his wife and son too.”
Brooke stumbled, caught off guard by the vehemence in Adam’s voice, but she caught herself before she went down. “You really believe that?”
“I know it. Tyler Gillis is a dangerous man, Brooke. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“He’s in jail.”
“For now. But he sees the judge in the morning and might get bail. If he does, I need you to promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
Something about the way Adam said it—the assumption that she’d agree, the proprietary tone—rubbed Brooke the wrong way. “I appreciate your concern, but I can make my own decisions about who I spend time with.”
“Even when that person is a murderer?”
“Innocent until proven guilty,” Joe said. “That’s how it’s supposed to work, right, Deputy?”
“Of course,” Adam said smoothly. “But the evidence is convincing. It’s only a matter of time before we can prove what he did.”
They ran in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds their steady breathing and the rhythm of feet hitting pavement. Brooke’s thoughts were moving faster than her legs.
“Tyler’s story would make a great series,” Joe said suddenly. “The angle, the narrative arc—wrongly accused man returns to town, or actually guilty and finally caught. Either way, it’s compelling.”
Brooke shot him a look. Joe’s journalist’s brain never really turned off, but she’d hoped for a little more sensitivity given the circumstances.
“Once I’ve nailed him, I’ll get you an exclusive,” Adam said. “Full access to the investigation files, interviews with everyone involved. Could be a career-maker for you.”
The words hit Brooke wrong. Not the offer itself, but the way Adam said it. Like convicting Tyler was already a done deal. Like the truth didn’t matter as much as closing the case.
“What if he’s innocent?” Brooke asked.
Adam’s laugh was humorless. “He’s not.”
“But what if he is?”
“He’s not,” Adam repeated, more firmly this time.
“Brooke, I understand you want to believe the best in people. That’s only natural.
It’s one of the things I admire about you.
But Tyler Gillis has a history. He left here under mysterious circumstances.
Sheila, his old girlfriend, is dead. I’ve been in touch with the places he’s lived in over the past twelve years.
They’re looking into unsolved murders and disappearances.
I wouldn’t be surprised if we found out Tyler was involved in those too. ”
Adam moved closer to Brooke, his voice dropping so only she could hear. “He’s dangerous, I’m convinced of this. Please, promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
Brooke wanted to argue, but something in Adam’s expression stopped her. He genuinely believed what he was saying.
Was that dedication to justice, or something else?
“I’ll be careful,” she said finally, which wasn’t exactly a promise but seemed to satisfy him.
The rest of the run was quieter. Adam stayed close to Brooke, occasionally making conversation but mostly just . . . there.
Gina caught Brooke’s eye more than once, her expression concerned. Nick looked thoughtful. Joe was unreadable, his journalist mask firmly in place.
Back at the parking lot, people dispersed to their vehicles. Adam lingered, clearly hoping to talk more, but Gina intervened smoothly.
“Brooke, Nick, and I were going to grab a soda. Want to come?”
“Sure.”
“Joe? You in?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Adam looked disappointed but didn’t push. “I’ll see you around, Brooke. Call me if you need anything.”
They watched him drive away before turning toward Nick’s truck. Steph was there, standing near her car.
“Want to join us?” Joe asked. “We’re going for sodas at Annie’s.”
“Not tonight, but thanks. I’m going home and icing my foot.”
They piled into Nick’s SUV.
“So, that was intense,” Joe said, sitting next to Brooke in the backseat.
“He’s really got it bad for you,” Gina added.
“And he really thinks Tyler’s guilty,” Nick observed.