Chapter 31
Brooklyn Sloane
The mayor's voice faded into the background as Brook stepped away from the podium.
Residents rose from their seats, some huddled in whispered conversations while others made direct paths toward the exits.
She searched for Kyle Wheat's face among the sea of attendees.
He had been seated in the third row with his wife during the profile presentation, but now that distinctive space had been swallowed by the movement of bodies eager to escape the uncomfortable truths she'd unveiled.
“...thank you all for coming tonight.” The mayor brought the meeting to a close. “Please drive safely in these conditions.”
Brook narrowed her focus to the sole task of locating Kyle.
The churning crowd made visual tracking nearly impossible. Bodies shifted and blocked her line of sight in unpredictable patterns. She caught a glimpse of Faith's cream-colored blouse near the middle aisle, but then a group of older men moved between them, and the visual connection was lost.
Across the room, Theo stood with his back against the wall, his attention both on the Moores and his phone. His posture had changed. His shoulders had squared, and his jaw had tightened.
Fortunately, he glanced her way.
She raised her hand, two fingers extended toward the opposite side of the room. He quickly tucked his phone into his pocket and began weaving through the dispersing attendees to catch up with her.
“Sylvie and Bit discovered something in their conversation with Paula Stillman,” Theo shared the moment he reached her, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “They think the killer is—”
“It's Kyle Wheat.” The certainty in her voice left no room for doubt. “He is our unsub. We never checked the date he and Faith married, but it must have been after the murders. We assumed the two of them were together during the argument Heather had with Figg in the church parking lot.”
“That falls on me.” Theo was taller than Brook and was scanning the residents approaching the side exit. “Paula Stillman said that Kyle visited Heather's house multiple times before her murder. Claimed he was discussing photographing her parents' anniversary.”
“The unsub stopped because he found another way to preserve Loretta's memory.”
“Faith.” Theo’s gaze swept the room, his search clearly not producing results. “He married someone who embodies qualities he associates with Loretta Whitlow.”
“That’s right. A living memorial instead of a dead one.”
“He’s a photographer, Brook. We should have investigated him immediately based on his occupation.”
She couldn’t argue with Theo, but the mistake landed with her and the profile.
“We’re wasting time,” Brook muttered in frustration. The crowd had thinned somewhat, but still no clear sight of Kyle or Faith. Without hesitation, Brook stopped, reached for a folding chair, and stepped onto it, ignoring the startled glances from those around her.
The elevated position gave her the advantage she needed.
She spotted them immediately.
Kyle had his arm around Faith's waist, guiding her purposefully toward the side exit where Deputy Benz stood guard.
He had been posted at the exit in case something had gone wrong during the presentation, not to prevent people from leaving the church.
Kyle's movements were controlled but urgent, his head bent close to Faith's ear as he spoke.
Something in their postures signaled to Brook that they were running out of time.
“Side exit,” Brook exclaimed, taking Theo’s hand as leverage to step down from the chair.
As they began to make their way through the crowd, she caught sight of Figg Whitlow.
He was standing motionless in the aisle.
His gaze had been fixed on her, but had shifted to Theo.
He had connected the dots, followed the direction of their gazes, and realized that Kyle and Faith had something to do with Heather’s murder. “Go!”
She all but shoved Theo forward, Kyle less than twenty feet from the exit now.
“Kyle, was it you?” Figg's voice boomed across the church hall, stopping conversations mid-sentence. The residual noise died immediately as every head turned toward the source of the shout. “You sick bastard!”
Kyle froze, his body going rigid. Faith turned toward him, confusion etched across her face. For a suspended moment, Brook thought Theo could reach the couple before the situation got out of hand.
Unfortunately, Kyle lunged at Deputy Benz, driving his shoulder into the officer's sternum.
The impact knocked Benz against the wall, the air forced from his lungs in a pained grunt.
Kyle's hand shot to Benz's hip holster, fingers wrapping around the grip of the service weapon before the deputy could react.
“Kyle!” Faith screamed, her voice shrill with confusion and fear. “What are you doing?”
She had yet to accept reality. By this time, Kyle had yanked the firearm free and stepped back, his movements jerky and uncoordinated.
He swung the weapon in a wild arc that caused nearby residents to scatter with panicked cries.
His chest heaved with rapid, shallow breaths as his gaze darted from face to face, finally settling on Theo, who was maybe twenty feet away at this point.
“Stay back!” Kyle shouted, the weapon shaking in his grip. His free hand reached out, grabbing Faith's wrist and pulling her against his side. “Everyone, just stay where you are!”
“This is a mistake,” Faith cried out as she tried to pull away from him. “Tell them this is a mistake.”
“Shut up!” Kyle's voice cracked with strain. He backed toward the exit, dragging Faith with him while keeping the gun trained on Theo. “You don't understand. None of you understands!”
Brook positioned herself between Figg and what was taking place at the side exit. His pupils were dilated, his skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat despite the room's chill. She held a hand up to warn him off.
“Everyone, stay calm!” Brook's voice cut through the panicked murmurs that had erupted throughout the church hall. Kyle's eyes had the wild look of cornered prey. The muzzle of his weapon wavered between potential threats, settling most often on Theo, who had advanced the closest toward him.
“Theo, stand down. Deputy Benz, hold your position,” Brook ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.
She kept her movements unhurried as she shifted her weight to stop Figg from advancing.
The last thing they needed was another unpredictable element in an already unstable situation.
Fortunately, Sheriff Donovan had his weapon drawn and positioned himself off to the side.
“Sheriff, if Mr. Whitlow makes any sudden movements, arrest him.”
“He killed those women because of my mother,” Figg growled, voice barely contained. “He turned her into—”
“Not now,” Brook cut him off sharply. “Do you want to see others hurt? That’s what will happen if you do something foolish. No one follows us outside, understood?”
Brook didn’t wait for Sheriff Donovan to respond. Kyle had already pushed open the door, the frigid air rushing in through the opening, carrying swirling snowflakes that melted immediately on the warm floor. She drew her weapon as she moved toward Theo, who had immediately made his way to the exit.
“Ready?” Theo rested his hand on the silver bar.
“Go.”
The blast of cold air slammed into her as she stepped outside.
Without her jacket, the winter chill cut through her blazer instantly, numbing her exposed skin.
Heavy snow blanketed the parking lot in white, the flakes continuing to fall in thick, silent sheets that reduced visibility to twenty yards at best. The darkness beyond the building's exterior lights seemed absolute, the night swallowing everything beyond their immediate surroundings.
Kyle was dragging Faith across the icy surface, his pace hampered by her panicked struggle to get away. Her boots slipped repeatedly on the slick surface, causing her to stumble. Each time she fell behind, Kyle yanked her forward with enough force to nearly topple her completely.
“Kyle!” Theo called out, his voice carrying clearly in the winter stillness. “Think about what you're doing to Faith right now!”
Kyle didn't turn or slow his stride, but Faith's head snapped toward them, her face streaked with tears that had already begun to freeze on her cheeks.
“Kyle, stop. Please. Tell me this isn't happening! Tell me they're wrong about you!”
“They don't understand,” Kyle replied, his voice almost lost in the soft hiss of falling snow. “No one understands.”
Brook continued to advance forward, maintaining her aim while watching for patches of ice.
Her fingers had already grown stiff with cold, making her hyperaware of her trigger discipline.
Theo mirrored her movements on the opposite side, creating a flanking position that gave them both clear lines of sight.
“There's nowhere to go, Kyle,” Brook stated, the fog of her breath punctuating each word. “It’s over. Think of Faith.”
Something in her words caused Kyle to stop abruptly. For a moment, he remained motionless, snow gathering on his shoulders and in his hair. Then, with a deliberate slowness that sent unease through Brook's bloodstream, he turned to face them.
Faith cried out as he released her wrist, only to wrap his arm around her neck, pulling her back against his chest. The deputy's gun pressed against her temple as he stared at Brook and Theo over Faith's shoulder.
“You ruined it. You ruined her. She won’t look at me like I’m everything now.”
Brook maintained her stance, weapon trained on Kyle's head, searching for an angle that wouldn't endanger Faith. The snow between them continued to fall, creating a shifting curtain that complicated her sight picture.
“All I wanted was for everyone else to see Loretta the way I did. She saved me. She paid attention to me.”
Faith's sobbing intensified, her body trembling against Kyle's chest.