Chapter 18 skeletons in the closet

I think I can safely say that my secret is now out. Brooke has just burst through the interrogation room s door and called for the interview to stop. I do not know who was more surprised by the move, Detective Fletcher or me. So if it is said that he is beyond furious, then that shall be a slight understatement. But, the best part is yet to come, "Are you charging her with anything, or can I take her home." The next few seconds are the most agonizing that I shall ever experience in my life before. So it is in anticipation that I wait for Detective Fletcher to answer, "Yes, I am charging her with attempting murder." I watch as Brooke s face grows in shock while I can only but gasp. I, in a way, knew that he would not just not let me go like that. So now I am being charged with trying to Kill Tyler; my heart is shattered. I am being stuck in a cell for something that I did not do, and no, I cannot see him either. Why do I feel so helpless? When did I become so damn small? I can do nothing but sit and wait to see the outcome of my fate, but I at least hope that Brooke can get me out on bail. And that is the very thing that she is trying to negotiate with Detective Fletcher at this very moment. From the rumbling that is going out the depths of his chest, I can hear that he is not reluctant to give in. Yet then Brooke speaks, "Where is she going to run to? She will be with her husband." Well, this gives Detective Fletcher on but a small gap to step in, "Yes, the very husband that she has tried to kill. I am afraid that I will not allow her near him even if I grant bail." "You are being unreasonable," Brooke s voice raises that one pitch higher as her frustration with Detective Fletcher is now becoming visible. "Please, I will take her into my custody. I will take responsibility for her." Detective Fletcher grunts at himself, and I see that he is not pleased with Brooke s request at all, "If she goes mission, then I will have you landed in jail too." He pauses for a few seconds, then he adds, "She is, after all, your sister. I don t know how you can stand by a woman that tries to kill your brother." Brooke slams the glass of water that she had in her hand only but a moment ago down on the table, "That is quite enough, Detective Fletcher. Now can I take custody of Jenna Moore?" With that, he reluctantly agrees. I cannot help but feel the joy of seeing Tyler rush over me, but then Detective adds, "She is not allowed alone with her husband at all." "That is fine," Brooke agrees, but Detective Fletcher somehow does not share the same sentiment. "Only with one of my present." And that is where Brooke snaps. "Now listen here for one damn minute, Detective Fletcher. Tyler is my brother; I am not going to let you sit here and tell me when Jenna or I am able to visit him. If she has, and she thinks she can do something to him again while I am around, then she is just as stupid as she looks." I am completely thrown back by her remark; there seems to be no love lost here, or is she merely just saying this for Detective Fletcher? Well, I am about to find out as Detective Fletcher has agreed for Brooke to take me out on bail. While she is filling and signing all the paperwork, I watch her facial expressions. It truly is hard for me to tell if she is mad or upset over me and my problems or if she is concerned about Tyler. I also did not tell her about the real reason that Tyler was in the hospital. As far as she is concerned, he fell off something in the stables and hit his head real bad. Perhaps now, in hindsight, I should have thought about how suspicious this would all become seen. So once we are finally leaving the police station, I stumble over finding the right words to tell her how I am grateful. But as I rubbed at the marks the handcuffs had left over my wrists, I can only but utter, "I am so sorry, Brooke," And yes, I think I have underestimated the love that she holds for Tyler, "Sorry? You are sorry, Jenna? Tyler could be dying, and you are saying sorry." She stops abruptly and turns her eyes to meet mine that is only but seeking a place for hiding, "Who gave you the right to hold this back from me, from everybody?" "I, I," the tears start to well up in my eyes, and I have no other place to look at but my feet, which have now become unbearable to drag forward. I don t care how mad anybody is; I just need to get to Tyler. So, much to her annoyance, I interrupt her, "Can we not talk about this later? I want to go see Tyler." "Tyler is stable, Jenna, for now." then she pauses. "But I also hold a concern of leaving you alone with him. Why did you not phone me the minute this happened?" I compose myself as I am now getting frustrated with Brooke in seeing me in the same way that Detective Fletcher did, "I did not want you to think he has taken his life.." "Well," she stops again and throws her hands into the air; when she faces me, I can see that the tears are playing like pools in her eyes. "I either think he has taken his life, or I think that you have taken his life. Now," she faces away from me for a brief second, but when she returns her gaze, I can see that pain turning into absolute raw fury. "Can you tell me which one it is?" "I don t know what happened, Brooke." She snaps her head in my direction and has nothing but utter shock and a hint of disgust on her face. "How can you not know what happened?" She inhales a deep breath to calm her racing heart. Yet, that burning anger never leaves her face for but one moment. I think I can safely say that he is where one can see that Tyler is her brother. And it is that bond that is driving her to push forwards. "You have a man in your stables with a bullet to the head. There is a note which you swear by that he did not write. So please explain to me. HOW. THE. FUCK. does he enter up that way?" "Brooke," I start raising my own voice a fraction of an inch higher. "I was busy in the kitchen when I heard the noise coming from the stables. When I got there, I found Tyler on the floor. His gun was next to him, and where he would have sat or stood on, I find the note." "Okay, but why were you hiding the note?" "Because I did not want someone to think he took his life." "Jenna!" she growls at me. "For fuck sake. You would have still thought it even if there was not a note. No, you go and fucking hide the damn thing, and everybody thinks that you killed him. Hell, even with the note, they still think that you tried to kill him." "Why?" and perhaps I should not have asked that question, so I immediately change the subject in another direction. "Tyler was really doing fine. We were starting to get excited about the baby; I can't see how he would want to take his life. The day before, he was smiling and going through websites for a crib, then the next day this would have happened." "Jenna, okay." Brooke acknowledges me, but I think that somehow she has not bought my lame excuse to change the subject. So after looking at me for what feels like one uncomfortable fraction too long, she speaks again, "Jenna, Tyler is an excellent shot; if he wanted to take his life, then he would have done it at the first attempt. I agree with you there. My brother did not try to take his life." Then without breaking the stare once, she continues, "I fully believe that someone tried to kill him because there is no way that he also had an accident with a gun while handling it. Do you see what I am saying here?" "Yes," She waits for me to say anything, but I know what she is saying here, and I know where she is going too. But it shall wait for her to, "Tell me what happened to your parents?" All decency of friendliness and even that of being a sister-in-law walks out the do with her very questions, yet, she knows the answer; why is she even asking. Just like Detective Fletcher, she is now trying to play a little game. "My parents were killed." Now she can at least pretend that she is shocked by the answer, yet she continues, "Who killed your parents? It was not an accident, was it?"