Chapter 25
Brooke
Brooke stood in the parking lot, staring out at the lake and the paved trail beyond. It had always been one of her favorite places, somewhere she could come in any weather and run. Today, though, it felt wrong. Like she should turn around and leave.
She wasn’t physically up to it, but that wasn’t the point. She needed to be here. She needed the fresh air, the quiet, and being outside gave her the space to think.
She needed to breathe.
Plus, she worried that if she didn’t go today, she’d be too scared to ever go again. She’d chosen the lake because it was well used and wide open. There was no place for anyone to hide.
Even if she couldn’t run, she could walk. Sort of. She certainly wasn’t going to be doing any speed walking, but what could she expect?
She checked her messages, hoping Tyler had replied to her text while she was driving but she didn’t hear the notification. Nothing.
Maybe she should put the phone away and let the rhythm of movement ease her aching heart. She rubbed her forehead, her fingers drifting toward the bandage. Her head still hurt—her entire body, really—but it was nothing compared to how much she missed Tyler.
More than anything, she needed to hear from him, to talk to him and find out how he was holding up. As hard as the last twenty-four hours had been for her, they were nothing compared to what he was facing.
The thought of calling him lingered. He should have been off work. Maybe he would answer this time. There was probably a valid reason for not responding before. She stood there, thumb hovering over his name in her contacts.
A car door closed, and Brooke looked behind her.
Tyler stood three spaces down beside his truck, one hand still on the door handle.
They stared at each other across the parking lot.
Her heart kicked into a faster rhythm. All the things she’d wanted to say to him, all the texts he hadn’t answered, all the doubt Joe had planted earlier—it all tangled together in her throat.
Tyler took a step toward her, then stopped.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” Her voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.
“I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I didn’t plan to be.” Brooke tucked her phone into her pocket. “Are you going for a walk?”
“Thought I’d try running.” He gestured at his athletic shorts and T-shirt. “You always say it clears your head.”
“Does it?”
“Don’t know yet. Never tried it that way before.”
Brooke noticed the tension in his shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes, the way he held himself like he was bracing for another hit. “I could run with you,” she heard herself say. “If you want.”
He gestured to her head. “Are you supposed to be running?”
She gave a small, shrugging smile. “Probably not. The doctor said to take it easy for a few days. I should probably walk.”
“You probably should.”
“I don’t want to keep you from getting the workout you were hoping for.”
Tyler hesitated. “It’s probably good to walk, too, right?”
“I’m sure it is. There’re all sorts of studies about walking and mental health.”
He studied her face like he was trying to read something there. “Okay.”
They started toward the path together, not quite walking side by side but close enough to talk.
Their walking pace was faster than a stroll but not a power walk. It was a good pace for the way Brooke’s body felt. Their steps fell into a steady rhythm on the pavement. Other people were on the path—an elderly couple power walking, a woman with a stroller, two teenagers on bikes.
Normal people doing normal things.
Brooke tried to focus on her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth.
But her mind kept circling back to Joe’s words and how he’d been putting things together. The evidence and connections he found painted a picture she wasn’t comfortable admitting to.
She wanted to ask Tyler about it, to have him explain everything away so she could stop doubting him.
But what if he couldn’t?
They rounded the first bend. The path curved along the water’s edge, trees on one side and the lake glittering in the evening sun on the other. The days were getting shorter. Soon, fall would arrive, and then the middle of October, when she needed to register for the Moose Range Run 100.
What might her life be like by then? She’d be physically recovered from her injuries before then, but would she still be wondering about Tyler? Would there still be accusations and innuendo?
“You didn’t answer my texts,” she said quietly.
Tyler paused before replying, “I know.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought staying away was the smart thing to do. Sue told me your coffee shop was packed today, that everyone wants to know about us, that people are gossiping and questioning and judging you for being with me.”
“I can handle gossip.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” Tyler’s jaw was tight. “You’ve been through enough—with Kelsey and everything that happened at Bearwater, and now with the attack. You don’t need my mess added to your life.”
Brooke walked beside him in silence. The path stretched ahead, curving back toward the parking lot. “I heard things too,” she said finally. “About you and Monique. That you dated in high school.”
“I didn’t.”
“That’s not what people are saying.”
“People are wrong.” Tyler stopped walking and turned to face her. “I never dated Monique. I barely knew her. But somehow that rumor is all over town now.”
“You heard it too?”
“Yeah, Sue told me. Said a woman in line at the donut shop told her. I don’t know where it started or why people are saying it, but it’s not true.”
Brooke studied his face. His frustration was evident, but he also looked tired and worn down. But he didn’t look like someone who was lying.
“Joe Monroe said you dated both of them. Sheila and Monique.”
“Joe’s wrong. Or his sources are. I dated Sheila for a couple months when we were kids. That’s it.”
They started walking again. The conversation had broken something open between them, the careful distance they’d been maintaining dissolved.
“What else did Joe say?” Tyler asked.
Brooke walked him through it all. The evidence, the timeline, the doubts about the fire, and the other investigator who wouldn’t let the case rest. Tyler listened quietly, his expression growing darker as she spoke.
“Someone’s framing me,” he said when she finished. “Someone who knows my history, knows these women, and knows exactly how to make me look guilty.”
“Who would do that?”
“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.” He looked at her. “I didn’t kill anyone, Brooke. Not Sheila, not Monique, not my wife and son. I need you to believe that.”
“I want to believe it.”
“But you’re not sure. We’re back to that again, huh?”
Brooke didn’t answer. The truth was complicated and messy, and she didn’t know how to put it into words.
They walked in silence for a while.
“We’re not back to that,” she finally said. “I know you weren’t responsible for what happened to your wife. And I believe you about Sheila and Monique too.”
“Do I hear a but in your voice?” he asked.
“Not exactly, it’s just . . . Joe said there was a question about whether you actually played darts the night Sheila died. Plus, you didn’t go to The Watering Hole on Friday for darts. I thought you would. That’s why I went to the play with Steph.”
“I don’t know where your friend is getting his information, but I was playing darts the night Sheila died. Not at the Watering Hole. I haven’t played there in months, not since they changed from Friday night darts to Thursday night darts. Bronco Willie’s has darts on Friday night.”
He reached for her arm, and they both came to a stop, eyes locking. “And I didn’t go this past Friday night because the guys I usually play with are gone hunting. It’s archery season, and they’re up at their elk camp.”
She held his gaze as she nodded. “That makes sense.” She almost reached for him, wanting that connection, but the moment passed and they started walking again, soon reaching the parking lot.
They stopped near Brooke’s SUV. The sun had dropped lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. It was a beautiful evening, but the wrong circumstances.
Brooke reached for Tyler’s hand.
His fingers closed around hers automatically before he seemed to realize what she’d done. “People will talk.”
“They’re already talking.”
“It’ll get worse.”
“Probably.” But she didn’t let go.
Tyler looked down at their joined hands, then back at her face. Something passed between them—understanding, maybe, or recognition of how complicated this had become.
Brooke liked him. Maybe more than liked him. Maybe loved him, though it was too soon to be certain of that. The connection she felt when they were together was real, the way he made her feel safe despite everything happening around them.
She wanted to believe him. Everything he said made sense. She wanted to choose trust over doubt, to prove that her judgment hadn’t been broken by Kelsey.
But what if she was wrong again?
Tyler’s thumb brushed across the back of her hand. “I should go.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Neither of them moved.
The parking lot was emptying out as evening settled in. The lake reflected the sunset, all gold and pink and darkening blue. Somewhere, a dog barked. Normal sounds. Normal evening.
Nothing about this felt normal, and at the same time, it was completely normal. It felt comfortable.
“Brooke,” Tyler started, then stopped. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Me neither.”
He let go of her hand. The loss of contact felt more than physical, like something important slipping away.
“Be careful,” Tyler said. “Whoever’s doing this, they’re still out there.”
“You too.”
He walked to his truck, and Brooke watched him go, her hand still warm from where he’d held it.
She got into her SUV and sat there as Tyler’s truck pulled out of the parking lot.
Then she put her head on the steering wheel and tried to figure out what she was supposed to do next.