Chapter 19
NINETEEN
The instant Tate stepped into the dining room, Brooke waved him over to the table she shared with Evan.
Places had been set for him and Annie across from the couple, baked personal pizzas waiting on their plates.
He smiled, even as guilt stabbed at him, and crossed the room.
Evan greeted him with a nod, although his eyes reflected none of his wife’s warmth.
“Sit, sit.” Brooke gestured at a chair with her napkin. “Hope you like supreme. That’s Annie’s favorite, and I vaguely remember she mentioned you liked it too.”
Tate was impressed. “Good memory.” He claimed the chair across from Evan. The dining room had mostly emptied out, a few people lingering near the double-sided fireplace. His pizza crust was golden brown, the cheese melted around the toppings. “This looks incredible. Thanks, Brooke.”
She popped a pepperoni into her mouth and beamed. “It’s the least I could do. Where’s your trusty sidekick?”
“She’s checking on Heather.” Tate was starving, but decided to wait and eat with Annie.
His gaze moved back and forth between the couple.
Interviewing them required finesse. He didn’t want to cause an issue between Annie and her friends based on Caleb’s say-so.
He eased into it. “How is everyone holding up?”
“They’re on edge.” Evan’s fingers drummed an absent rhythm against his coffee mug.
“Scared. Worried.” He tossed an appreciative look toward his wife.
“Brooke’s doing a great job of keeping everyone calm, but I’m anxious about what tonight will bring.
” He leaned forward. “Any progress in figuring out who’s behind this? ”
“Some.” Evan had given him an opening, and Tate took it. “What do you know about Seth’s family?”
The drumming stopped. Evan frowned. “What could they have to do with this?”
“The killer has been sending texts about Seth. Makes sense that it’s the people closest to him who might want revenge.” Tate spotted Annie entering the dining room and lifted a hand. She joined them and thanked Brooke for the pizza. Then Tate asked, “Should I say grace?”
She nodded. They joined hands and bowed their heads. Tate thanked the Lord for the food. He also sent up a silent prayer for wisdom.
Annie squeezed his hand, released it, and reached for her napkin. “What did I miss?”
“Tate asked me about Seth’s family.” Evan took a sip of coffee. “As far as I know, his dad is still in prison. I’ve never met him. His mom died about ten years ago, so that leaves Marcus, Seth’s brother. Last I heard, he lives up north somewhere.”
“When was the last time you spoke to Marcus?” Tate asked, cutting his pizza with a fork and knife. Eating with a bandaged hand was annoying. His stitches throbbed, warning him that he’d need more pain medication soon.
Evan glanced at Brooke, checking the date with her. “It must’ve been right after we got married, right? Five years ago or so.”
Brooke nodded, her curls bouncing. “Yeah. He was waiting for you on our porch, remember? I was surprised because we’d recently moved into our new house and I had no idea how he found the address.” She grimaced. “Honestly, it freaked me out initially. But Marcus was apologetic and really nice.”
Five years ago. Exactly the same time frame Caleb gave. “What did Marcus want?”
“To talk about what happened at the bonfire.” Evan’s expression grew distant. Sad.
Brooke placed her hand on top of his, and Evan interlaced their fingers. The love between the couple was clear. No wonder Annie hadn’t wanted to believe they were a part of this.
“Marcus was in the military during most of Seth’s teen years, and was deployed when they buried him,” Evan explained.
“He only got bits and pieces of the story from their mom. After she died and he retired from the Army, I guess he decided it was time to find out what really happened to his brother.”
“How did he take it?” Annie asked. “When you told him?”
“He was upset. Understandably.” Evan’s tone hardened. “What happened to Seth was a horrible accident, but it didn’t happen in a vacuum…” His eyes widened, the color draining from his face. Horror flashed as his gaze darted to Annie before landing on his wife.
“Evan?” Brooke’s hand tightened on his.
“That’s what I told him.” He swallowed hard.
“You went inside because your mom called, and Marcus and I were alone. He asked me for the truth, and I used those exact words. It didn’t happen in a vacuum.
And then he asked me whose fault it was, and I—” He pressed his fist against his mouth.
“I was angry. I’d been angry for years, and nobody had ever asked me before.
So I told him. I told Marcus everything.
That Kayla was using Seth to make Preston jealous, that Preston revealed their dad was in prison which caused the fistfight, that you and Tate tried to go after Seth but got into your own argument, that I…
” He stopped and closed his eyes. “That I took an elbow to the face, and instead of taking off after Seth when he left the bonfire, I wasted time looking for ice.”
Pain vibrated in his voice. One Tate shared. He’d made his own mistakes. “This isn’t your fault—”
“Don’t.” Evan’s eyes snapped open. “Don’t lie, Tate. I practically handed the man a hit list.”
“You told him the truth, which is what he asked for. You had no way of knowing what would happen.” Tate shoved aside his half-eaten pizza.
Evan had included himself among the culpable.
Perhaps he was playing them, but Tate didn’t think so.
Evan’s distress seemed genuine. “We all have regrets about that night, but none of us are to blame for Seth’s death.
It was exactly as you said. A tragic accident. ”
“Tate’s right.” Brooke leaned closer to her husband.
Tears shimmered in her eyes. “You’ve been beating yourself up for not stopping Seth from going into the woods, but there’s no way to know that anything would’ve changed even if you had talked to him.
Seth was humiliated and upset. I doubt he would’ve listened to any of us. ”
Brooke had a point. Annie had called out to Seth several times, and he’d refused to stop.
“The important thing to do now,” Tate said, “is to figure out if Marcus is truly behind this, and if so, stop him. After that day on your porch, did you ever hear from him again?”
Evan shook his head. “No. He seemed…irritated by the fact that I kept saying Seth’s death was an accident. I figured he was grieving and trying to sort out his own emotions—maybe his own guilt—and needed someone to blame.”
“His own guilt?” Tate straightened. “What do you mean by that?”
“He was deployed when Seth died, and I got the sense he blamed himself for not being there. Right after their dad went to prison, Marcus joined the Army. Seth and his mom moved to Oakwood. Seth struggled because it felt like his family had been blown apart. Plus, he had to keep what’d happened with his dad a secret.
His mom didn’t want anyone to know. She was worried they’d judge them. ” Evan exhaled. “She was right.”
“So Seth and his brother were close?”
“Very.”
Caleb had said the same. Good to have confirmation. “Do you know what his dad is in prison for?”
“He killed someone while driving drunk. It was his second DUI, so the prosecutor pushed for a long sentence.”
Not murder then. Tate chalked it up to a misunderstanding. Civilians often blurred murder and manslaughter. The crime was horrible and worthy of a prison sentence, but it wasn’t violent. Maybe Seth’s dad wasn’t involved.
Tate kept his attention on Evan, but his tone was casual. “Caleb mentioned Marcus came to see him too. Did you know about that?”
Evan and Brooke both looked surprised. Evan shook his head. “No.”
“Do you know if he spoke to other people in the group?”
“Not that I know of.” Evan looked to Brooke for help.
She frowned. “I never heard a whisper about Marcus visiting anyone, and I’m pretty plugged into the group.” Brooke paused. “Then again, Seth is a touchy subject for all of us. I never mentioned Marcus’s visit to anyone apart from my mom.”
“Do you know anything about Marcus’s military service? What did he do for the Army?”
“He was a Green Beret.” Evan had returned to drumming against his mug.
Green Berets were the Army’s elite. That also matched what Caleb had told them.
Tate’s thoughts moved fast. Could Marcus be working as a staff member in disguise?
Possibly. But it was more likely that he’d holed up somewhere on the property, coming out only to attack.
Someone had raided the mess hall pantry, likely for supplies, and for a man used to operating in hostile conditions, the storm wouldn’t be a hindrance.
But how did he know their movements? Their phone numbers?
Someone had to be feeding him information.
Again, he was back at the two-killer theory. Tate flexed his fingers, the move pulling on his stitches. “Seth’s dad, do you know his first name? Or where he was in prison?”
Evan paused in his drumming to take a sip of his coffee. “No. Sorry. Seth never told me. Like I said, he didn’t talk about it much.”
Frustrating. A name would go a long way toward tracking the man down and ensuring he was still in prison. Chances were it was a dead end, anyway. If Marcus was behind these attacks, then his accomplice was likely someone in their group.
And so far, Tate hadn’t been able to eliminate any of his suspects. Not even Evan. His gut told him his old friend was innocent, but he couldn’t afford to rely solely on his instincts. He needed evidence. Facts. And right now, he had neither.
“Can you even be sure someone in Seth’s family is behind this?” Brooke asked, her gaze shifting between Tate and Annie.
“No.” Tate’s hand throbbed harder. “But whoever attacked me was trained in hand-to-hand combat and knew what he was doing with both a gun and a knife. It’s possible we’re looking for a well-prepared civilian, but not likely.
Marcus is a Green Beret, and he questioned at least two people in this group about Seth’s death.
Maybe others as well. Additionally, the killer has made it clear he’s looking to get revenge.
Marcus has both the knowledge and the motive—”
A sharp crack came from outside.
Darkness swallowed the dining room. Somewhere behind Tate, glass exploded. Icy wind howled through the broken window, carrying rain and the roar of the storm inside. He moved on instinct, hooking an arm around Annie’s waist and taking her to the floor beneath the table. “Down! Everybody down!”
Screams tore through the dark.