Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Tate had gone back and forth in his mind. He’d looked through the photos again and read through the texts as well. He didn’t want to be thinking what he was thinking.
From what he could ascertain from reading the messages between Tyler and WinHeights, the couple had started their affair about six months ago.
It had burned hot and heavy, but then it looked like Tyler had moved on quickly.
For what reason, Tate didn’t know, but his friend had been rather cold and abrupt in messaging WinHeights to tell her it was over.
WinHeights, on the other hand, clearly wasn’t done. She was angry that she’d risked her marriage, and she’d thought it was something serious with Tyler. She hadn’t taken the breakup well, and in her last few texts, she’d made some threats that Tyler “would be very sorry” if he didn’t call her back.
“ Sorry doesn’t mean dead,” Cat pointed out. “He can’t feel sorry about anything if he isn’t breathing. Besides, we know Josh was the intended victim. They tried to do it again, remember?”
“I know,” Tate conceded. “But you don’t think this is weird? And also, painfully coincidental?”
“Well…yes, but coincidences happen all the time. At least, I think they do. If Tyler was the intended victim, then why did someone try and run down Josh?”
“I don’t know,” Tate admitted. “It’s just strange.
Finn admitted that he’s gotten pretty much nowhere in his investigation of who might want to kill Josh.
What if no one wants to kill Josh? That might explain why the investigation is stalled.
But if they were concentrating on Tyler, they’d have someone to question. ”
“Whoever WinHeights is, we don’t know their identity, and we don’t have a way to find out. There are loads of married women in this town, and a certain percentage might be stepping out on their husbands.”
“Finn could maybe find out her identity if he subpoenaed phone records,” Tate replied. “Then he could question her. Find out where she was that morning.”
“You’re going to talk to Finn? Wouldn’t he have already seen these texts and photos? The police had the phones in the first place. If he didn’t think it was worth following up on…”
Tate couldn’t ignore his gut, which was currently screaming that something wasn’t right.
“Did he even look at Tyler’s phones? Why would he? No one thought Tyler was the intended victim. He was investigating who would want to shoot Josh.”
“Right, Josh,” Cat said. “Tyler was dressed in Josh’s clothes. The shooter mistook Tyler for Josh and shot the wrong man.”
“I’m wondering if that’s the case,” Tate argued. “There’s a little voice in my head telling me to drive over to Josh and Rachel’s house and stand behind those trees to see what the shooter saw that morning.”
“You can’t listen to every voice in your head,” Cat replied. “They’re not always right.”
“I may not be, but I can’t just dismiss this out of hand. Our friend is dead, and it may not be the tragic accident we thought it was. It may have been deliberate.”
“They’re not always wrong either,” Cat sighed, levering to her feet. “Okay, let’s go. There’s only one way to settle this.”
“Where are we going?”
“To stand behind those trees,” Cat stated. “We need to know what the shooter saw. It’s the only way to settle this.”
He wasn’t going to argue. She was right. He needed to see what the truth would be.
Josh or Tyler?
“Finn’s probably already done this,” Tate said as he drove toward the street where Josh and Rachel lived.
“That doesn’t matter,” Cat argued. “You won’t be satisfied until you see it with your own two eyes. I may have been gone a long time, but I still know that about you. You’re an evidence-based guy.”
She did know him. He wasn’t the kind to simply take someone’s word about something he truly cared about. This was one question he needed answered personally.
“But we can’t just park across the street from their house and skulk behind some trees,” Cat pointed out. “Josh and Rachel will think we’ve lost our minds.”
“I have an idea about that,” Tate replied. “There’s an old dirt road a ways up from their house. We can park there and walk. With all the trees, they won’t see us.”
“This could be how the shooter stayed out of sight,” Cat said as he turned onto the street. The dirt road was just up ahead. “That’s a creepy thought.”
“I already thought it, and I agree.”
He turned onto the dirt road and parked the car behind a few trees. From the angle, it would be difficult to be seen by anyone driving by.
They made their way down the road, but behind the tree line, until they were directly across from Josh and Rachel’s house. The couple appeared to be home, their cars parked in the driveway.
Tate stood behind the cluster of trees, imagining the shooter doing the same. How long had they stood there and waited? Had they been there before dawn? Did they worry about being seen when they left, or were they counting on the chaos afterwards to distract any witnesses?
His gaze ran over the small area, but he already knew there wouldn’t be any evidence to see. If any had existed, Finn’s team would have collected it that day.
“What are you thinking?” Cat asked, giving him a sideways glance. “You look very serious about something.”
“I’m thinking about the shooter and what they planned or didn’t plan that day. Were they emotional or stone cold? Had they planned it for a long time, or was it spur of a spur-of-the-moment decision?”
“I’m not sure those are questions we’re ever going to get answered unless the killer gets chatty after they’re arrested. This isn’t an episode of ‘Murder, She Wrote’ where the guilty party confesses all and explains every detail.”
True, but one thing was for sure. Tate could easily tell who was standing at the end of the driveway. It wasn’t that far, unless the shooter was near-sighted and wasn’t wearing their glasses or contacts that morning.
“They knew they were shooting at Tyler,” he said. “There’s no way they didn’t know.”
Cat stepped in front of him, her gaze scanning the street in front of them.
“Tyler might have had his back to the shooter. From that angle, he looks a lot like Josh. I’m not trying to argue with you, I’m just trying to play devil’s advocate here.
If you’re going to talk to Finn, and it sounds like you want to, we’d better have our ducks in a row.
Because he’ll ask the same questions and more. ”
“I agree, and that’s why I’m glad you’re here challenging me. I could be way off, and just letting that little voice take over.”
Tate wasn’t even sure what had gotten into him today. He wouldn’t normally blow off an entire day at the bar to chase down a wild idea he’d picked up from looking through a friend’s phone. He could be way, way off base here and end up with egg all over his face.
Yet…he couldn’t make himself stop. He had to see this through, no matter how insane it sounded when he said it out loud.
“Sometimes, those little voices are damn annoying. But seriously, he could have been turned around. They may never have seen his face.”
“I have that same garbage can,” Tate replied.
“Everyone in town does, too. When I put it at the end of the driveway in the morning, I lean it back on its wheels and pull it behind me. I’m facing the street.
Otherwise, I would be walking backwards.
I’m not saying that Tyler definitely did that because I didn’t see him, but I think it makes more sense that way. ”
“I do, too,” Cat sighed. “Since being back in town, I’ve put the garbage out for Mom. That’s how I do it.”
“I suppose we could say that maybe the shooter hadn’t had enough caffeine or poor eyesight. Maybe they were so upset that they were just shooting at the first thing that moved, but I think that they saw Tyler’s face. They fired the gun, knowing it was Tyler.”
“Tell me if you can see my face clearly,” Cat said, pushing through the brush before Tate could stop her. “I’ll only be a second. They won’t see me. I doubt they’re looking out their front window.”
Cat darted across the road, standing at the end of the driveway where Tyler’s body was found next to the trash can. She turned and looked at the house, and then back at where Tate was standing, before scampering back across the street.
Altogether, it took only about a minute,
“Could you see me clearly? Would you recognize who I was?”
“Yes, I would, and don’t ever do something like that again,” Tate said, pressing a hand to where his heart currently raced in his chest. “What would you have done if they’d seen you?”
“I’d have just pretended that I was out getting my steps in or something like that. Enjoying the beauty of nature.”
“Miles from your own home?”
“I got tired of walking my own neighborhood,” she replied with a careless shrug. “Even if they thought it was strange, they wouldn’t question me about it. They’re too polite. And I don’t think they saw me. No one has come out of the house.”
That was true. There was nothing going on there. Perhaps Josh was resting, and Rachel was quietly working in her home office.
“The important point of all of this is that you knew it was me,” Cat pointed out. “The shooter had to know they had a gun pointed at Tyler, not Josh.”
“Finn is our next stop,” Tate stated. “We have to show him what we’ve found on Tyler’s second phone. He’s going to want to find out who WinHeights is, and where they were that morning.”
He didn’t believe that Josh was the intended victim that day. It had to be Tyler. There was no other explanation. His friend was living a secret life with multiple women, but pretending that he was just any other guy.
Had it finally caught up to Tyler? Had WinHeights made good on her threat?
“This is not the way to Finn’s office,” Cat remarked as Tate turned off the main street through town. “You’re going the wrong way.”
And Tate Winslow wouldn’t go the wrong way unless there was a good reason.