Chapter 23 #2
Since Edi was a couple of years older than Brooke, she had seen how mean school kids could be.
She remembered being in elementary school and watching some of the girls pick on Edi.
If she remembered correctly, she had been in first or maybe second grade, which would’ve put Edi in third or fourth.
Edi had already been too tall and too heavy, and children could be cruel.
Joe continued, methodical and thorough. “I talked to a few people. Sheila and Monique were close. Best friends, actually, during high school. They were still friendly, but not as close as they had been. Tyler dated both of them, Sheila the summer after he finished high school and Monique early in his senior year.”
“I’ve heard this about Sheila. But who cares?” Brooke said, forcing conviction into her tone. “It was high school. Over fifteen years ago. And so what if he went out with Monique? Everyone went out with everyone. You didn’t grow up here, but I did. It’s the way it is in a small town.”
“Might be, but people have killed for less.” Joe closed his notebook. “I’m not saying Tyler did this. I’m saying the evidence points in his direction, and you need to see it clearly.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you’re my friend. Because we nearly died when we trusted the wrong person. Kelsey fooled us. Fooled all of us. I’m not going to let that happen again.”
“Tyler’s not Kelsey,” Brooke said.
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
“You need to be smart about this.” Joe’s voice was gentle but firm. “How many times have we looked back at what didn’t click with Kelsey at the time, only to see it clearly now?”
The words stung because they were true. There were signs. Small things Brooke had explained away or ignored. The tension that sometimes crept into Kelsey’s voice. The way she’d been so insistent about certain routes. The phone calls she’d walk away from the group to take.
All of it made sense in hindsight.
“What else?” Brooke asked quietly.
Joe hesitated. “The fire that killed Tyler’s wife and son. The official ruling was accidental, but there were notes from the investigator. Questions about the timeline, about Tyler’s alibi, about the insurance payout.”
“Adam Boverman had it in for Tyler, even back then. That’s why there are questions.”
“Boverman wasn’t the person in charge. The Wyoming Division of Criminal Investigation, DCI, was called in. That investigator was the one who had questions. Adam was new to the force, but he agreed with the investigator.”
“But those questions were answered. The case was closed.”
“The case was closed because there wasn’t enough evidence to bring charges.
That’s different from being cleared.” Joe leaned forward.
“The DCI investigator revisited the case annually until he retired. He didn’t say he thought Tyler was guilty, but he made it clear he wasn’t convinced it was a freak accident. ”
“That . . . that doesn’t mean anything. Besides, Adam has it out for Tyler. Everyone knows that.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he’s been right all along and nobody wanted to believe it.”
“What about the investigator? The DCI one. Have you talked to him?”
“He retired two years ago. Sadly, he passed away about six months after.”
Everything felt wrong about this. She couldn’t believe someone actually thought Tyler was guilty. Adam, sure, but his obsession was unnatural. But to have someone else think Tyler was responsible for the death of his wife and child . . .
“I need to get back to work.”
“Brooke— ”
“Thank you for telling me. I need to think.”
Joe touched her arm, his expression concerned. “Be careful. Please.”
Brooke walked back inside the kitchen. The noise hit her immediately—espresso machine hissing, customers talking, Becky calling out orders. It should’ve been familiar and comforting. Instead, it felt overwhelming.
She pulled out her phone again. Still nothing from Tyler.
The evidence Joe had presented was circumstantial, and all of it could be explained.
Tyler being at the bank didn’t mean anything; he could’ve gone for any reason.
Missing darts didn’t prove anything either—plans change.
And the connection to both victims through high school was unavoidable in a small town where everyone knew everyone.
Even Monique working practically next door to Tyler didn’t have to mean anything.
But taken together, it painted a picture. A pattern.
And Brooke had ignored patterns before. Had explained away concerns, made excuses, and trusted when she shouldn’t have.
With Kelsey, that trust had nearly cost her her life. It had put Nick, Gina, and Joe in danger. It had destroyed a friendship and left scars that still hadn’t fully healed.
What if she was doing it again? What if Tyler was guilty and she was too blind to see it?
But they’d been seeing each other. Something real was building between them. Her brother said Tyler was innocent when his family died and believed he was innocent now. She believed it too.
But was that belief based on truth, or was it based on wanting so badly to be right this time, to prove her judgment wasn’t fundamentally broken?
Brooke didn’t know anymore.
She stepped out of the kitchen and into the coffee shop. Customers came and went. Becky handled orders with practiced efficiency. The morning rush continued without pause. She pasted on a smile and moved to the counter.
“I can get the next person here.”