Page 72 of In Cold Blood

His brother had found something. The question was what?

On his second pass around the island, noticing that it looked empty, he couldn’t resist. Curiosity got the better of him. Instead of pulling up to the main boat dock, he approached from the eastern side, bringing the boat close before killing the engine. Noah took the rope and tied it off to a low-hanging tree branch, then leaped onto the island. The brush was thick. The owners of the island only needed to cut back and maintain the portionthat would be used by renters, so he found himself traipsing through dense foliage.

Noah took out his EDC flashlight and illuminated the way. Mosquitos buzzed around him, landing and sucking his exposed skin. He slapped the back of his neck, second-guessing himself.

As he paved a way to the island home, he pondered how the drugs were being trafficked. Were they using it when no visitors were there? Were certain visitors in on it? And what was being transported?

It didn’t take long to reach the property. It was a Tudor-style house with thick exposed wooden beams and a white exterior. He stooped low in the tree line, his flashlight washing over the home as he searched for exterior cameras.

There were none he could see.

What are you doing, Noah?he asked himself as he darted out toward the two-story house. He kept eyeing the trees and house for any security system.

He had no intention of breaking in and he didn’t expect they would leave the place unlocked or use it as a storage area for the product. If it was owned by Harry Carter from the Pub and Brewery, he might not have even been aware. It wasn’t uncommon for drug runners to use rental establishments to conduct business. A place like this would be a perfect meeting ground for buyers and sellers. Away from prying eyes. They would be able to hear boats approaching and there was nowhere for a helicopter to land. It made sense on so many levels but still, it was a rental. They would be taking a big chance if Harry wasn’t involved.

Noah made his way around to the back and up the steps onto the porch. He tried the door. It was locked. He peered through the windows. It was too dark to see anything. He checked a few of the doors. All sealed shut.

As he came around the front, he heard voices.

Low, barely audible.

Noah ducked, pressing his back to the side of the house.

His pulse ticking upward.

Two men came out of the front door and stood at the top of the stairs. Noah figured they must have had their boat inside the boathouse as during two laps around the island, he never saw even a flashlight. There was no moon out that night. Why wouldn’t they be using flashlights?

“Hurry up, we don’t have all night,” one of them said.

Noah inched up to the corner of the house and watched as two other men carried crates of bottles. He could hear them clinking. “Just set them inside for now. We’ll swing back tomorrow and organize everything.”

“There’s still a lot to carry in.”

“C’mon, Zayne,” the other replied. The two men headed off while the other two disappeared inside. They came out seconds later, the door closing slowly behind them. A crazy thought shot through his mind as he watched them head down to the boathouse.Go inside. It might be the only opportunity you get.

No. There wasn’t enough time.

“A few more and we should be done,” he heard someone holler.

Instead, Noah waited until the men came back lugging more crates into the house before he raced down to the boathouse to check out what they were bringing in. The boathouse was huge. There was enough room for multiple boats to be stored or maintained.

Noah slid inside.

The atmosphere was dim and musty with the smell of mildew, wood, and fuel oil.

There was a large open space for storing boats on racks. The walls and ceiling were made of wood and there were a fewwindows to let in natural light. Off to his right was a workshop area for repairs. Tools lined the wall.

He made his way over to a twenty-foot speedboat that was docked. Once he was sure no one was on it, he boarded and noted the last few crates that were at the back, stacked up. He clicked on a flashlight and shone it over the crates and brown boxes. They had the emblem for High Peaks Pub and Brewery. Inside each of them were lots of bottles of beer along with red and white wine in the boxes. He took a beer bottle out and held it up, shining the light over it.

Nothing abnormal.

“Huh. Restocking for guests?”

Noah took out his phone and took a few snapshots before putting it back.

He’d been so distracted looking at it all, that he didn’t hear the men closing in on the boathouse. It was only the sound of one of them coughing that made his head swivel.Shit.His mind went into overdrive. He turned to see where he could hide. There was nowhere. Only one way in and one way out. Noah peered down into the dark water.

He had no choice.