“Turn your car off and go inside. When you get in, you’ll see four men. Two are at the table close to the door. One is wearing a gray ball cap. The other two are seated by the window. One of them has on an Eagles shirt and a full sleeve of tattoos. You’ll sit down at the table next to them.” It was Detective Linly’s voice coming through the speaker of Brooke’s phone, which rested in the passenger seat. “I’m outside with your mother in the white van and Detective Meyers is in the green Honda parked next to the delivery door.”
Brooke glanced to her right and saw the green Honda parked exactly where Linly said Meyers was. She looked back at the restaurant and saw the guy with the tattoos sitting there with a plate of pasta in front of him.
Brooke was terrified. This whole thing hinged on her ability to get Jake to be honest with her. What if she couldn’t? Worse yet, what if she acted strangely and he figured out something was up? Please don’t let him see through these lies, she begged the universe. Please just make him tell the truth.
“The mic is hidden in the plant on the table. It has a decent range, but try to keep it centered between you.”
“Yeah,” Brooke said. She could hear the trepidation in her own voice. Linly must’ve noticed it too.
“Relax, Brooke. Act natural and flirty. Remember, this is the guy you want to marry.”
“Right,” Brooke said and looked down at the huge diamond hanging on her ring finger. She closed her eyes and tried to remember how she’d acted with Jake on their helicopter date, when she was caught up in the romance.
“You need to go in now,” Linly said, her voice buried in static.
“Okay,” Brooke whispered and ended the call. Fumbling with her phone, she managed to tuck it into her purse, get out, and lock the door. Pulling her coat up around her, she noticed her hands were trembling, so she shoved them into her pockets. Keeping her gaze straight ahead, she walked up to the entrance and opened the door.
The place was lively, almost loud, with servers hurrying around bringing people their pizzas and beer. Brooke looked over at the tatted cop and his buddy, who laughed and joked with one another like they were old friends. The table was open next to them. Tense, Brooke started for the table when a ruddy-faced man with jet-black hair stopped her.
“Table for one?” he asked. Brooke wasn’t sure what to say. When she didn’t say anything, the man smiled and led her to the table she was instructed to go to anyway. He helped her off with her coat and handed her a menu.
“It’ll actually be two,” she said.
“No problem. I’ll bring another menu. I’m Brody. If you need anything at all, Brooke, let me know.” Brooke paused, surprised he said her name. Then, she realized, he was letting her know he was in on it. She instantly felt more comfortable.
“Thank you.” As Brody headed back to the kitchen, sidestepping the knot of patrons who were in line for takeout, Brooke saw Jake enter. Her stomach did a flip. She’d never been so nervous in her entire life. Act natural, she told herself. Act like he’s your savior.
Brooke jutted her hand in the air and waved at him, a broad smile on her face. Sell it. It was the term they used in cheerleading when they exaggerated their smiles to make the dance step more appealing. She smiled bigger. She was going to sell the shit out of it. Jake grinned back and unzipped his jacket as he walked over.
“Hi,” he said and bent over to kiss her on the lips. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you.”
“I missed you so much,” she said, not letting go of his hand as he moved around the table. He chuckled and eased into his chair, looking around. The looking around sent a nervous rush through her. She hoped he wouldn’t notice they were literally surrounded by cops.
“Cute place. Kinda out of the way, though. Do you come here a lot?” She noticed his gaze settle on the door and she looked over to see what he was staring at. Just a couple of men in paint-splattered pants.
“My mom brought me here once and I really liked it, so I thought it might be cool.”
“Just weird you didn’t want to come to my place.” She could tell he was waiting for her to react. That silence the detectives had talked about. She didn’t say anything, and like they predicted, Jake continued. “Are you avoiding being alone with me?”
“Not at all,” Brooke said, a buttery tone to her voice. “It’s just that you’ve planned all these cool dates for me and I haven’t had a chance to plan something for you.” Jake smiled. “I’m paying today too by the way.” She grinned.
“No you’re not,” Jake stated. “But I’m happy to let you plan the date. I like this place. It has a cozy vibe.” Brooke felt herself relaxing the way she had the first time Jake took her out to Wally’s on Main. Whatever that thing was that made her feel at ease with him, it was still sort of there. Which was disconcerting, even though it helped her remember how to act natural. They could have just as easily been sitting here, on a real date, falling in love if circumstances had been different. He’s not the person you wanted him to be, Brooke told herself. He’s controlling and vindictive and dangerous. Don’t get distracted by his charm and good looks.
Brody approached with a second menu. “Welcome,” he said, his rosy cheeks protruding out from under his moustache.
“Thanks,” Jake said, politely taking the menu.
“What can I get you to drink?” Brody asked, pulling an order pad from his back pocket.
“A bottle of your best Chianti.” Jake was confident, but Brody raised an eyebrow.
“Are you twenty-one?”
Brooke looked up at Brody. What was he doing? The last thing she wanted was for Jake to get pissed because Brody wouldn’t serve him and walk out. To Brooke’s surprise, Jake didn’t cop an attitude. Instead he pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and set it on the table.
“Twenty-one plus seventy-nine,” Jake said as if telling a joke. Brody slid the bill off the table and into his pocket.
“A bottle of Chianti and two glasses.”
“Never fails.” Jake smirked, pleased with himself, and opened his menu. Brooke could tell he felt more at ease now. He was used to bribing waiters and bartenders to serve him without an ID, and now that he’d gone through the process with Brody, he was more at home. Brooke realized it was all part of the plan to get Jake comfortable enough to talk candidly.
“So, I’ve obviously been super stressed out that the cops came to talk to you. Do you think they know I hid the knife?” Brooke softened her voice to a whisper. She wanted him to see her as vulnerable and grateful for his “help.”
“They have no idea about that,” Jake said, setting his menu down and looking deep into her eyes. She hated the way he was staring. It felt like he could see right through to her secrets.
“Are you sure?”
“Completely.”
“What if they get a search warrant to search your place and they find it?” From the way Jake looked at her, she could tell instantly that she’d said too much.
“Why would they search my place?”
“If they know you took it out of that nasty couch by the dumpster.” She was scrambling now, trying to stay cool.
“There’s no way they’d think I have it unless you told them I do.” He waited for her to answer. It was clear that somehow the tables had turned and he was in control of the conversation. She needed to twist it back, but she wasn’t sure how.
“I guess not. It’s just freaking me out. What did they ask about me?”
Brody interrupted with two goblets and a dusty, bulby bottle of red wine. He set the glasses down and proceeded to stab the cork with his wine screw. As they waited for him to twist the cork out, Jake glanced around the restaurant suspiciously. I’m losing him, she thought. He thinks something’s up. Dammit.
Brody poured a small amount into Jake’s glass and waited. Jake quickly swirled the wine around and sipped it. Brooke tried to gauge whether the wine had recaptured Jake’s focus, but she couldn’t tell.
“That’s fine,” h
e said. Brody finished pouring the glasses.
“Can I start you out with an appetizer? Fried mozzarella maybe? Or calamari?”
“We’re not ready to order yet. Could you come back?” Jake asked, practically cutting the man off.
“Of course, sir. Take your time.” Brody headed back to the kitchen, leaving the wine on the table. Jake brought the bottle closer to him, pushing the planter in the middle with the small succulent growing out of it toward Brooke.
Brooke felt her nerves again. She needed to keep that planter between them. She took a sip of her wine, trying to work out her next move.
“What did they ask?” she repeated.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jake responded. “I didn’t tell them anything that you wouldn’t want them to know.” He’d clammed up. This whole meeting was supposed to be so that he could tell her what they asked and now he refused to divulge any information at all.
“Thank you,” Brooke said, giving him a sincere look. She wasn’t good at playing the sweet, helpless girl that made guys want to swoop in and take care of them the way Maddie used to, but she’d seen her do it a hundred times and decided now was the time to pull it off. “I don’t know what I would do without you. I’m so scared.” She waited for him to speak.
“You don’t have to be scared of anything,” he said gently. “I’ll never let you go to prison.” Brooke absentmindedly fingered the rim of the planter, sliding it back into place. Technically, he hadn’t admitted having anything to do with Maddie’s murder. She needed to get him talking about that, so she decided to try a different tactic.
“I still can’t remember what I did to her that night. Can you tell me what happened? I just feel like I need to know. How’d I get so wasted? What were we drinking?”
“You did a couple of shots and had a few beers. At one point I looked over and you were talking to Tryg and then you guys went inside together.”
“I did?”
“Just left me sitting out there by the pool.” His voice was tinged with resentment.
“I’m sorry,” she said, letting her gaze fall to the table. “That was pretty crappy of me to bring you to a party and then go talk to some other guy. Especially after what happened at the restaurant.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“I don’t advocate people being mugged but he was a dick to my best friend, so if it has to happen to someone, I’m glad it happened to him.” Brooke hoped Jake would agree with her and then admit he was the one who made it happen. He didn’t. Instead he said something that Brooke found weird.
“Maddie was not your friend.” What did he mean by that? Brooke stayed silent, hoping he’d elaborate. Instead, he just looked down at the menu. Brooke studied him for a moment. Behind the sexy, confident façade there was so much coldness.
“Of course she was,” Brooke edged. “We’ve been best friends more than half our lives.” She waited for him to respond. He looked up from the menu with an intense gaze.
“No she wasn’t.” His voice was rigid and the way he looked at her frightened her. Brooke couldn’t help but glance over at the tattooed undercover officer, who was still seated a few feet from them.
“There’s one thing that’s been bugging me about that night.” Brooke leaned in. “I don’t know how I got the knife. I was too wasted to go back down and get it, so it must’ve already been there. But why would Riley have a knife in his guest room?”
Jake’s eyes flicked up and he stared at her.
“It makes me think maybe I didn’t do it. Someone else must’ve come in with the knife.”
“Maybe Maddie had the knife when she came in and you took it away from her.” He answered quickly, almost too quickly.
“So she was coming to kill me?”
“Maybe,” he said with a dismissive shrug.
“If that’s true, it was self-defense. I had to protect myself from her.”
“Then why did you take the photos afterward? It wasn’t self-defense.”
“It just doesn’t make any sense. . . .”
“You were blasted out of your mind and you have IED. She accused you of wanting Tryg and you blew up and killed her. It makes perfect sense. I’m not judging you, Brooke. But it does make sense.”
Brooke sat back and opened the menu. She was getting nothing from him that was even close to a confession. She’d have to go a step further.
“Well, thank you for hiding that knife for me. Hiding it in that couch was stupid to begin with.”
As Jake looked up at her, something changed in his eyes. It was like a light burned out and the cocky Jake was gone, replaced by something much more threatening. Jake abruptly snapped his menu closed.
“Let’s go. I’m not hungry,” he said, breathing out a sigh. He stood up, towering over her as he pulled out his wallet and dropped another hundred on the table. Brooke’s stomach leaped into her chest. What the hell was going on? Had he figured out she was baiting him?
Brooke glanced past Jake to the plainclothes officers. They were sitting there, quiet, and she knew they were listening.
“Why?” she asked, pretending to be dumbfounded.
“I just told you why. I’m not hungry,” Jake said.
“I am, though,” she said, hoping he’d sit back down. If he left now, she’d never get an admission from him. She couldn’t imagine trying to bring up the conversation again without him realizing it was a setup, if he hadn’t already.
“I have food at my place. Let’s go.”
“What’s going on?” she asked, standing. Jake suddenly pressed his body against hers, kissing her deeply. The kiss was aggressive, though, and loveless. His hands slid up her back. Oh my god, she thought. He’s feeling for a wire. Her palms instinctively went up to push him away and she felt a sharp pain on her lower lip that caused her to wince. Then the metallic taste of blood.
As Jake stepped back he wore a smile. Brooke’s finger flew to her mouth and she realized Jake had bit her. He gave her a sympathetic look that was anything but sincere.
“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” he asked, already knowing he had.
Brooke could see the officers staring at them, waiting to pounce on Jake if he did anything unpredictable. She looked at her finger, and the dot of smeared blood mixed with Jake’s saliva. She knew he’d hurt her on purpose and the look in his eyes as she touched her lip a second time told her he enjoyed it.
“I’m sorry, babe,” he said tenderly.
Brooke just looked at him, not sure what to say. Then he leaned close to her ear and whispered, “We can’t talk here. There are people listening.”
He acted as if he thought she wasn’t aware of it, but she wasn’t convinced that was the case. Had he believed she was in collusion with the police and then changed his mind when he didn’t feel a wire? Or was he just creating a false sense of security so she’d go home with him, where he could do whatever he wanted without anyone hearing?
“Where do you want to go?” Brooke said loud enough that she thought the mic on the table, or at least the cops sitting nearby, would hear her.
“It’s a surprise.” Jake helped her on with her coat, then took her hand and began to lead her out of the restaurant. The voice deep in the back of her skull warned her not to get into the car with him. If she didn’t stop him now, the cops would move in and she’d never get the proof she needed. Plus, he’d realize she was in on it. What could she do? She had to think fast.
As they reached the door, Brody stepped up and blocked their path.
“You’re not staying?” he asked. “Was the wine not good?”
“It was fine,” Jake muttered. “Something came up and we need to go.”
A text sounded on Brooke’s phone. She pulled it out and felt Jake move in to read it over her shoulder. It was from her mother.
Mom: Where are you? Come home now. Tryg’s been arrested for Maddie’s murder.
It was a lie. Her mother was sitting in the van with Detective Linly, who must’ve told her what to write
. Brooke looked up at Jake, who stepped back, stunned.
“They arrested Tryg,” she murmured, mustering as much shock as she could. “I have to go. My mom wants me to come home.” Brooke pushed past Jake and rushed out the door. Shoving her hand into her pocket, she extracted her keys, eager to make it to her car before he could stop her.
Without looking back, she threw open her car door, got in, and started the car. She could see Jake coming out the door after her, so she shifted into reverse and gunned the engine. Her car lurched backward and she twisted the wheel, spinning her tires as she careened out onto the street.
Her phone rang. It was Detective Linly. Brooke touched the keypad.
“Hello?” she said, breathless.
“Are you okay?” Linly asked.
“He figured it out. He told me people were listening, and then when he kissed me, I think he was trying to feel for a wire.”
“Drive straight home,” the detective instructed. “Your mother will meet you there in twenty minutes.”
“Okay,” Brooke said, her heart still racing.
As she weaved down the street, heading north to her own neighborhood, Brooke’s tongue touched the tiny cut on the inside of her lower lip. If there had been any doubt in Brooke’s mind at all who killed Maddie, it was gone. Jake had made her bleed just like he’d made Maddie bleed.
Twenty-Nine
Brooke Decides to Kill Herself
“He’s suspicious now,” Brooke said, sure that any additional attempt at a confession was out of the question.
“I spoke to the department psychiatrist and he came up with an idea that I think could work.” Detective Meyers’s voice boomed through the speakerphone on the kitchen table.
“I don’t want Brooke to be within arm’s reach of that monster again,” her mother said, bent over the phone, as if getting closer to it would lend more weight to her words. “He bit her.”
Brooke looked first at her, and then at Alex, who paced near the window. “Mom, I’m fine,” Brooke assured her.
“No!”
“Just listen to what they have to say, Carley.” Alex joined them.
Murdered at 17 Page 21