He let out a strangled sob, then swallowed. “I’m going to cooperate with the prosecutors. I’ve a meeting later this week to tell them everything, although my parents want me to keep quiet. My lawyer says we need a few days to gather additional evidence and paperwork but might as well spill the beans now. You have to promise not to breathe a word to anyone, OK?”
Vera and I both nodded, but deep down, I thought,fat chance, buddy. I’d sing like a songbird to Alex Holt the second I walked out of here.
“It all began during my political campaign. I met this guy named Bruce Doyle at one of my fundraisers. At first, I didn’t think much of him, but then he suggested we go fishing, with a professional guide and all. So I contacted Gene since he knows all the primo fishing spots. The three of us went out on Gene’s boat, and Bruce and I got to talking about the campaign and development. Turns out, he had bought the Covington property.”
“Gator Heaven,” I muttered with distaste.
“What?” Tyler asked, confused.
“Never mind. Continue.”
“Bruce wanted to know my chances of winning, and I told him it’d be a close call. The real Dave Smith, my opponent, had a strong following and was the incumbent. That’s when Gene butted in on our conversation. He mentioned this news story he’d read out of Miami about ‘ghost candidates.’ You know, running a third person with the same name as your opponent, to siphon votes away. Gene claimed he knew someone with the same name, a guy he met at a bar. And wouldn’t you know it, Bruce loved the idea.”
“Shocking,” I deadpanned. “I didn’t know Gene could read.”
“The plan went pretty smoothly from there. The three of us agreed that Bruce would pay Gene to convince his friend to run for office. David H. Smith, the impostor candidate, would also get a cut. In return, I promised to vote in favor of Bruce’s development if I won.”
“Which you did,” Vera interrupted.
“I won the election, but the rezoning vote hasn’t happened yet. And now that I’ve been removed from office, I won’t be casting a vote.”
“Such a shame,” I remarked. Vera shot me a wicked look, but I brushed it off. “I still don’t get how all this led to Gene’s demise. It sounds like you and Bruce had everything under control.”
Tyler shifted his gaze to me, a hint of arrogance shining through his smirk. “Things were going smoothly until Gene started to blab. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, first blabbing to some hot bartender at the Shady Lady. He told people he knew some secret about the election. Bruce was getting anxious because Gene was also going on that reality show, and the last thing he wanted was Gene telling the world about the election. This all went down in November and early December. Then Vera and her group started protesting the property sale, and that made Bruce even more jumpy.”
Poor Bruce.I shot Tyler a sickeningly sweet expression.
“And then you thought dating me would halt my protests,” Vera stated.
Tyler exhaled sharply through his nose. “Sort of. I feel guilty about that. And downright awful about what happened next.”
My eyes couldn’t resist rolling like marbles. “Sure you do.”
“What happened?” Vera inquired.
“Bruce wanted Gene gone, but he didn’t want the evidence to point back to him, or me, or the David guy. He wanted to pin it on someone else. And that’s when you and I went for that walk in the park, and your car got broken into.”
A sickening realization washed over me. “You allowed Bruce to break into my sister’s car, steal her gun, and then kill Gene, all while knowing my sister would be accused of murder?” I sprang to my feet, yelling. “Vera, let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of this skeevy pond scum.”
“Wait,” Vera whispered softly. “You actually gave Bruce permission to use my gun in a crime?”
Tears streamed down Tyler’s flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry. I thought he was just going to scare Gene. I realized what I had done later that day and had a panic attack. That’s why I turned myself in, why I wanted to apologize, why I asked you here today.”
“You’re a real piece of work.” I paced the room, seething.
“You were willing to throw me in prison to save your butt?” Vera struggled to comprehend Tyler’s actions.
“I’m sorry,” he wailed. “That’s why I’m telling you now and am going to tell the feds. I don’t want this pinned on you. It’s my way of making amends. Can you forgive me? Please?”
A suffocating silence enveloped the room, though if glares could make a sound, Tyler would be deaf from the way I was piercing him with my eyes. Finally, Vera rose, her head held high.
“Let’s go,” she whispered to me.
As we walked out, Vera paused by the sofa and stared down at Tyler. “You’re a burden to humanity.”
Maybe it wasn’t the most creative insult, and not one I would’ve used, but it suited me just fine. We left the house, leaving behind the sounds of Tyler’s sobs.
On the short drive home, we didn’t speak of the conversation at Tyler’s house. We rolled down the windows and cranked the radio, singing at the top of our lungs to Tina Turner’s “Better Be Good to Me.”
