Chapter 20
Tyler
Tyler wiped his hands on a shop rag and surveyed the parts spread across the workbench.
Three hours of solid work, and he was finally making progress.
The familiar rhythm of diagnosis and repair had kept his mind occupied, kept him from checking his phone every five minutes like some lovesick teenager.
Not that he wasn’t lovesick. He definitely was. But he’d left his phone in the office on purpose, forcing himself to focus on work instead of wondering if Brooke had texted.
“I’m heading out,” Robert called from the bay entrance. “The machine’s on, so don’t worry about the phone. Nice to have a slow day today so we can shut down early. You good to lock up?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Sue’s making pot roast. You’re welcome to join us.”
“Thanks, but I’m good.” Tyler gestured at the transmission. “I want to finish this up.”
Robert studied him for a moment. “You’ve been working straight through lunch. Everything okay?”
“Fine. Just focused.”
“Uh-huh.” Robert didn’t push, but his expression held a question. “Don’t stay too late. And eat something that isn’t from a vending machine.”
“Yes, sir.”
After Robert left, Tyler allowed himself another thirty minutes before admitting he needed a break. His back ached from hunching over the workbench, and his hands were cramping. He needed to call it a day and finish this on Monday. Like Robert said, it was nice to have a slow day once in a while.
He headed to the office, flipping on the light and dropping into the desk chair. His phone sat on the cluttered desk where he’d left it earlier.
Seven missed calls.
Tyler’s stomach dropped. He grabbed the phone and scrolled through the notifications. Three calls from Brooke. Two from Gina. One from a number he didn’t recognize. One from Nick.
His hands shook as he pulled up the voicemails.
He listened to Brooke’s first message: “Hey, it’s me. Can you call me when you get this? It’s important.”
Her voice sounded off. Strained.
Second message: “Tyler, it’s me again. I really need to talk to you. Please call me back.”
More urgent now. Something was wrong.
Tyler’s heart pounded as he listened to Gina’s voicemail.
“Tyler, it’s Gina. Brooke was attacked on the trail this morning. She’s okay, bruised and concussed but okay. She’s at my place, and she’s asking for you. Please call me back.”
The phone slipped from his hand and clattered onto the desk.
Attacked.
Brooke had been attacked.
The note. The threat. This was his fault. Someone had been watching him, had seen him with Brooke, had decided to hurt her because of him.
Tyler grabbed his phone and keys and ran for the truck, his mind racing with fragments of thoughts. Attacked. Concussed. At Gina’s place. Brooke asking for him.
The drive to Gina’s house took less than ten minutes but felt like hours. Every red light was torture, every slow driver an obstacle. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles went white.
Images kept flashing through his mind. Brooke on that trail. Someone grabbing her. Someone hurting her. And he hadn’t been there. Hadn’t protected her. Hadn’t even known she was in danger.
Just like before. Just like when the fire took Jen and Garrett.
He’d been hiking that day. Out in the mountains, enjoying the solitude, completely unaware that his entire life was literally burning to the ground. By the time he’d gotten home, the firefighters were already there. The house was little more than charred timbers and ash.
And his family was gone.
Tyler pulled into Gina’s driveway and killed the engine, sitting for a moment to collect himself. He couldn’t fall apart. Not now. Brooke needed him, and he needed to be strong enough to be there for her.
Even if this was his fault. Even if she’d be safer if he left town and never came back.
He climbed out of the truck and approached the front door. Before he could knock, it opened. Gina stood there, her expression tight with concern.
“She looks pretty rough, but she’ll heal,” Gina said quietly. “Where were you?”
“Working. My phone was in the office. I didn’t— ” His voice cracked. “I didn’t know.”
Gina’s expression softened slightly. “She’s on the couch.”
Tyler stepped inside. The house was warm and comfortable, the kind of place that felt like a home. Nick stood near the kitchen, arms crossed, watching him with an unreadable expression.
And there, on the couch, was Brooke.
The sight of her hit him like a physical blow. A bandage covered part of her head, stark white against her dark hair. Bruises were already forming on her arms. Her face was pale, drawn with pain and exhaustion.
But when she saw him, her eyes brightened.
“You’re here,” she said, and the relief in her voice nearly undid him.
“I’m here.” Tyler crossed the room and knelt beside the couch, taking her hand carefully. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t have my phone. I didn’t know— ”
“It’s okay. You’re here now.”
“What happened?”
Brooke told him, her voice calm despite the tremor underneath.
With every word, Tyler’s guilt grew heavier. This wasn’t random. Someone had targeted her deliberately. And they’d been silent because they didn’t want her to recognize their voice. They knew her. Brooke knew them.
“This is my fault,” Tyler said quietly. “The note. It wasn’t a prank. Someone was watching me. They saw us together and decided to hurt you. I thought, since it’d been two weeks, we were safe.”
“You don’t know this was related to the note.”
“You don’t know it’s not.” He looked at their joined hands. “Could it have been that game warden? Did you get a good enough— ”
“I don’t know who it was,” she interrupted. “Honestly, I don’t even really remember what he looked like. I wasn’t thinking clearly the day we found Sheila, and I can’t picture him.”
“Henry. His name is Henry . . . um, Ayers, I think.”
“Sorry. I can’t put the name with a face. I don’t know everyone in town, you know.” She gave a weak laugh.
Tyler sighed. “Maybe I should leave. At least for a little while. If I’m gone, maybe whoever’s doing this will stop.”
“Don’t you dare.” Brooke’s voice was sharp despite her exhaustion. “This isn’t your fault. If you leave, they win. And we lose. And I won’t lose, Tyler. I won’t quit.”
“But— ”
“No.” She squeezed his hand. “You’re not responsible for some psycho attacking me. You’re not responsible for what happened to your family. And you’re certainly not responsible for Sheila. Bad things happen, and they’re not always someone’s fault.”
Tyler wanted to believe her, and he knew in his head that she was probably right. His heart ached at the thought of walking away, yet the fear that she had been hurt because of him held him back.
“Gina said you’re staying here?” he asked.
“Tonight. She doesn’t think I should stay alone since I hit my head.
“Good. I’ll stay too. On the couch.”
Brooke looked at Gina, who lifted her shoulder. “Fine by me.”
“Is that okay with you?” Tyler asked Brooke.
“Absolutely.”
A knock at the door made everyone look in that direction. Nick moved to answer it, peering through the window first before opening the door.
“It’s Boverman,” Nick said in a loud whisper.
“The deputy?” Gina asked, looking at Brooke. “Was he going to get another statement?”
Brooke shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
“He’s out of uniform,” Nick said. “Want me to get rid of him?”
“Please,” Brooke replied. “I’m not up for his . . . anything.”
“No problem, Cuz.” Nick winked before opening the door. “Hey, there. Something— ”
Adam pushed his way inside. His eyes immediately found Tyler.
“What is he doing here?” Adam’s voice was low and dangerous.
“Hey, dude,” Nick said, putting his hand on Adam’s chest. “You weren’t invited inside.”
“Get your hands off me unless you want to be arrested for battery on an officer.”
Nick removed his hand as he said, “Are you here on official business? Out of uniform?” He looked out the still-open door. “And driving your personal car?”
“As far as you’re concerned, I’m always on business.”
“Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”
“Deputy, this isn’t a good time,” Gina said, moving toward the men.
“I want to know why a murder suspect is in your house with Brooke.” Adam pushed past Gina, his attention fixed on Tyler. “Did you do this? Did you attack her?”
Tyler stood slowly, keeping his hands visible. “I was at the shop. Working. Robert can verify that.”
“Right. Like he wouldn’t lie for you?”
“Deputy Boverman, that’s enough,” Gina said sharply.
But Adam wasn’t listening. He stepped closer to Tyler, his face twisted with anger and something that looked almost like desperation.
“You killed your wife and kid. You killed Sheila. Now you’re terrorizing Brooke. Tried to kill her. When are you going to admit what you are?”
The words hit like bullets. Tyler felt something crack open inside him, something he’d kept carefully sealed for years.
“I never touched my family,” Tyler said, his voice raw. “I loved them. I would’ve died for them.”
“That’s what they all say. Every abuser, every killer—they all claim they loved their victims right up until they’re convicted.”
“I didn’t— ”
“The evidence suggests otherwise. The insurance money. The timing. The fact that you left town rather than stay and help find who ‘really’ did it.” Adam’s hands clenched into fists. “You’re a killer, Gillis. And I’m not going to let you hurt anyone else.”
Gina stepped between them. “Get out.”
“Not until— ”
“Out!” Brooke’s voice cut through the tension. She’d sat up on the couch, her face pale but her expression fierce. “Get out of Gina’s house. Now.”
Adam turned to her. “Brooke, you have to see— ”
“I see a deputy harassing someone without evidence. I see you making accusations you can’t prove.
I see you trying to scare me into believing something that isn’t true.
” Brooke’s voice was steady despite the pain she must have been in.
“Tyler didn’t attack me. He was at work.
And even if he wasn’t, I know him well enough to know he’d never hurt me. ”
“You don’t know that. You thought you knew Kelsey— ”
“Don’t,” Brooke said sharply. “Don’t throw that in my face again. I’m capable of learning from my mistakes without you pointing them out every five minutes.”
Adam stared at her for a long moment. Then his expression shifted, became something almost pitying.
“When he hurts you—and he will—don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He turned to Tyler. “I’m watching you. Every move. And when you slip up, I’ll be there.”
He left, slamming the door behind him.
The silence that followed was deafening. Tyler realized he was shaking, his entire body trembling with the effort of not falling apart.
“Tyler.” Brooke’s voice was gentle. “Come back and sit beside me.”
He crossed back to the couch, sitting carefully beside her. She took his hand again, her grip surprisingly strong.
“I know you didn’t do this,” she said quietly. “No matter what Adam says. No matter what anyone says.”
Tyler couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat. He held her hand like it was the only thing keeping him anchored.
That night, after Gina helped Brooke to the guest room and Nick set up blankets on the couch before heading off to his own place, Tyler lay in the darkness and tried to process everything.
Brooke had been hurt. Someone had attacked her, tried to drag her away, tried to do something he couldn’t let himself think about too carefully.
And it was probably his fault.
But she’d defended him. Told Adam to leave. Chose to trust him despite everything Adam had said, despite all the reasons she had to doubt.
He closed his eyes and thought about the fire. About Jen’s smile. About Garrett’s laugh. About the life he’d lost and the questions that had haunted him ever since.
Someone had killed his family. Killed Sheila. Left a threatening note on his truck. Someone had attacked Brooke.
Were they connected? After all these years, had the person who destroyed his life come back to finish what they’d started?
Tyler didn’t know. But lying there in the darkness, listening to the quiet sounds of the house settling around him, he made a decision.
He wasn’t running this time. Wasn’t leaving town to escape the whispers and suspicion. He wasn’t letting fear drive him away from the first real connection he’d felt since Jen died.
He was staying. He was fighting. And he was going to protect Brooke, no matter what it cost him.