Page 12 of The Catcher (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #5)

M cKenzie was devouring three fat fries when the phone’s shrill ring pierced the air. Startled, he paused mid-chew, his eyes widening as he glanced toward Noah.

Noah smoothly fished the phone out of his pocket. With a quick swipe of his hand, he wiped his lips with a napkin before answering the call.

“Detective Sutherland. Uh-huh,” he murmured into the receiver, nodding in acknowledgment as he listened intently to Barry Carlise’s account of confiscating the geocache.

He had been hoping for a detailed breakdown of the cache’s contents, but instead, he received a Cliff Notes version of an argument.

“So you intervened?”

“Had to, it was getting out of hand.”

“Do you recall who they were?” Noah inquired.

“Some couple. Early seventies,” Barry replied, his voice crackling with static. “They got into a spat with a hiker who felt they were littering.”

“Did you get names?”

“No. It was over before it started.”

Noah furrowed his brow, mentally noting down the information. “Are there any webcams directed at that spot?” he pressed further.

“On the peak, it updates every three minutes. But nothing facing that area of the wall,” Barry confirmed, his voice trailing off slightly as if lost in thought.

Just then, the sound of shattering glass broke the momentary silence, causing Noah to turn his head toward the commotion. A waitress hurried past, her face flushed with embarrassment as she scrambled to clean up the mess — a mishap from carrying one too many items.

The atmosphere inside the Big Slide Brewery and Public House just after noon was electric, the lunchtime rush in full swing.

The clinking of cutlery, the murmur of conversation, and the hustle and bustle of the staff created a flurry of activity as they tended to multiple tables, weaving their way through the crowded space with practiced ease.

“And the hiker?”

“He was with a family. Early thirties, roughly. Look, I’m not one for pissing on anyone’s parade, but I felt it was best that I removed it and brought it to my boss to see what he wanted to do with it.”

“Doug Stevens.”

“Yeah. He asked me to toss it out, so I did.”

“Did you look inside? ”

“No, it was locked.”

“How big was the container?”

“Roughly the size of an ammo box.”

“And so you just threw it out without thinking? Something valuable might have been inside.”

“The couple said they usually contain trinkets and a logbook. Nothing of value. They even showed me a snapshot of one they’d found earlier that day. It looked trivial. Look, I was doing my job. Am I in trouble?”

“No. Thanks for getting back to me.”

Noah hung up and exhaled loudly.

“No luck?”

Noah stabbed at a fry, lingering before he placed it in his mouth. “He never looked inside. Unless those troopers they sent to the landfill can find it, it’s as good as gone.”

“Ah, who knows, maybe our perp was screwing with us. You know, purposely leading us on. The fact is, how many sickos want us to find their victims alive? You and I know that the chances of that Matthews girl being alive two days after she went missing are almost zero.”

“Yeah, yeah, 88.5 percent of cases, the missing person is dead within 24 hours.”

“And 76 percent within three hours of the abduction.”

“That wasn’t the case with Payton’s daughter, though.”

“Hence the reason it’s not 100 percent,” McKenzie said.

They continued eating. Noah chewed over the situation in his mind, trying to make connections and sense of it all.

“Then, of course, there is the other alternative: that our perp didn’t change Sam’s geocache. The lock of hair might be the only thing left behind,” McKenzie said.

Noah nodded. It was possible. Anything was possible when they had next to nothing to go on.

“What did you ask Sam back at Whiteface Castle?” McKenzie inquired, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Noah glanced up from his thoughts, his mind lingering on the conversation with Barry Carlise. “Who else knew about him being out there,” he replied, his voice distant.

“You think our perp knew he was heading out there?” McKenzie pressed, his brow furrowing in concern.

Noah stared outside the window, following a sleek black Aston Martin as it pulled into the parking lot.

Recognition flickered in his eyes as he realized it belonged to Natalie Ashford.

The Ashfords were a prominent and affluent family with their fingers in many aspects of business in High Peaks.

Some in the area considered their presence beneficial, singing their praises, but him not so much.

Those who worked for them, like Gabriel Ironwood, had already threatened his brother over non-payment of a debt that he was now actively paying off to Noah since Noah had stepped in to cover it.

And, of course, who could forget his father’s dealings with them?

That had offered no end of arguments and trouble in their relationship.

“Earth to Noah?” McKenzie’s voice brought him back to the present.

“What?” Noah blinked, refocusing his attention on McKenzie .

“Do you think our perp knew Sam was heading out there?” McKenzie repeated.

“Um. I don’t know. It’s just a hunch," Noah replied vaguely, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of the investigation. “If our perp is the one responsible for the lock of hair and the note, there is a chance he wanted that body to be found. Maybe he wants us to find the next one.”

“That’s quite the leap, Noah,” McKenzie remarked, sounding skeptical.

“Yeah. Like I said, it’s just a hunch,” Noah reiterated.

“So what did Sam say?” McKenzie pressed.

Noah watched as Natalie exited her car, his attention momentarily diverted by her presence. With her long black hair cascading down her shoulders and striking appearance, she exuded an air of confidence as she entered the restaurant, her gaze fixed on her phone as she approached the counter.

Chewing slowly, Noah replied, “He only told his sister.”

“And she’s how old?” McKenzie probed further.

“Twelve,” Noah answered.

“Well, we can officially scratch her off the list…” McKenzie began, but Noah cut him off.

“Be right back,” Noah said abruptly. He set his cutlery down and wiped his mouth with a napkin before rising from his seat and crossing the room, his steps purposeful as he threaded his way around the tables.

“You didn’t strike me as someone working for DoorDash,” Noah remarked sarcastically as he approached Natalie. She turned, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips .

“Collecting lunch for the staff,” Natalie replied.

“Huh, that’s odd. I figured you as someone who would have had it delivered or sent out one of your assistants,” Noah commented, his curiosity piqued.

“Because I come from money?” Natalie raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable.

Noah leaned against the counter, his posture relaxed. “No, I just didn’t think Daddy would approve. You know, what with him being so big on appearances.”

The clerk behind the counter handed Natalie the bill, and she tapped a gold credit card against the machine to pay. “Thanks,” she said politely before collecting a bag full of food and turning to leave.

“Like I told you, I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth. Have a good day,” Natalie added as she exited the restaurant, her voice trailing off.

Noah watched her go, a flicker of regret crossing his features before he glanced back at McKenzie observing the exchange with a raised eyebrow. Noah followed her out to the parking lot. “Hey, uh, look, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Noah said, his tone apologetic as he caught up to Natalie.

“Yeah, you did,” Natalie replied. She continued to walk, though now backward, facing him. “And you have every right to, what with all that you’ve been through. My father hasn’t made things easy.”

“Neither has mine,” Noah admitted, closing the distance between them.

“But it’s understandable. You think the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. ”

She stopped walking, and Noah approached her cautiously. “Listen, I was thinking about our last conversation a few months back. What I said, it came off rude. I apologize. I didn’t know if I could make it up to you. Maybe lunch?"

Natalie held up the bags of food she was carrying.

“Right. Um. I meant dinner. Sometime this week?”

She studied him for a moment, her gaze searching. Noah could tell she was contemplating his offer, assessing his sincerity. They both had their angles and hidden agendas, but neither was willing to reveal them just yet.

“I’ll need to check my schedule with one of my assistants, as looking at my phone is exhausting,” she joked lightly, a small smile playing on her lips.

Noah smiled back.

“How’s this evening?”

“Um…” Noah glanced back at the restaurant, where McKenzie was watching them with a knowing grin. “Well, you see, we have an investigation,” Noah explained, trying to find an excuse.

“That prevents you from eating?” Natalie teased, raising an eyebrow.

“No, um, okay,” Noah relented, feeling flustered.

“I’ll text you my address,” Natalie said as she returned to her car.

“I’ll give you my cell,” Noah offered.

“No need, I already have it,” Natalie replied casually, reminding Noah of the contact information he had provided when he first came to High Peaks .

“Of course you do,” Noah chuckled softly as he watched her walk away.

McKenzie looked amused as he slipped into the booth across from him.

“What was that all about?” McKenzie asked.

Noah picked up a fry, watching the Aston Martin leave the lot. “Have you ever heard the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”

“You are a strange one, Sutherland. You truly are. First, you’re dodging her. Now, you’re pining over her, though I don’t fault you. If I were ten years younger, I would be chasing that lass, too. She’s a real beauty.”

“It’s not personal. It’s purely business.”

“Aye, isn’t it always?” McKenzie said before he winked and continued to eat.

Noah and McKenzie entered the medical examiner’s office in the basement of the Adirondack Medical Center; the air was sterile and filled with the scent of disinfectant.

The room had stainless steel cabinets and various medical instruments and equipment.

Inside, they found Dr. Adelaide Chambers engrossed in her work, her red hair sticking up like a troll’s as she pecked away at a keyboard.

“Ms. Moneypenny,” McKenzie greeted her with a playful grin, doing his best Sean Connery impression. “We should stop meeting like this.”

Addie glanced up from her computer, a tired but friendly smile on her face .

“How are you, Addie?” Noah asked.

“Snowed under, but work is better than none, right?” Addie replied with a slight chuckle, rising from her seat to greet them.

“Right,” Noah agreed. “So, any preliminary findings on Landry?”

“I sent it over to Declan Porter yesterday. He never told you?” Addie raised an eyebrow, surprised.

Noah arched his eyebrows in response, prompting Addie to continue.

“Well, the body is still here. Give me a second,” she said, preparing to retrieve it from one of the holding refrigerators. “Toxicology report will take a couple of weeks, but there are some interesting aspects to this death.”

With a gentle pull, Addie opened the refrigerator, the sound of steel-on-steel echoing in the room as she slid out the body covered in a white cloth. She pulled back the cover with a practiced hand, revealing Landry’s form underneath.

“The cause of death is trauma from the fall,” Addie explained, her tone professional. “However, he didn’t die immediately. He broke both legs and had multiple internal injuries. He was alive for at least another hour. Even if someone had gotten to him, he would have died.”

“Brutal,” McKenzie added.

Noah nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the information. “Any other wounds to indicate he was beaten?” he inquired.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Addie began, her tone professional as she addressed Noah and McKenzie.

“Often when trying to differentiate between a bruise caused by a punch or one resulting from a fall, we look for indicators such as location and pattern, shape and size, multiple bruises, depth and severity, and of course we take into consideration the individual’s history or the circumstances around the injuries. ”

“Please, Addie, in English, not all of us are as smart as you,” McKenzie interjected, his voice cutting through the technical jargon.

“All the injuries would indicate they were received from bumping into objects, trees, and falling over,” Addie continued, translating for simplicity. “Then the biggest is from the fall itself.”

“Hmm,” Noah murmured, his brow furrowing in thought. “Then how did he subdue him? He’s a large kid. I can’t imagine he would go willingly.”

“Use of a gun would be my bet,” McKenzie replied, his expression serious.

“Possibly. Or multiple perpetrators,” Addie suggested, her gaze thoughtful. “If drugs or alcohol were a factor, that will be made clear by the toxicology, but that won’t be available for some time,” Addie noted, considering the possibilities.

Noah shifted his attention to the deceased teen, studying him intently. Landry lay motionless on the examination table, his skin pallid and features frozen in eternal stillness. The color of his skin was a stark contrast to the vibrant energy he must have possessed in life.

“So, what was the interesting aspect of this death?” Noah inquired, his voice low .

“All his fingers were broken.” Addie said as she lifted Landry’s hand to show them.

Noah and McKenzie leaned in to examine the hand, the realization sinking in with a chilling weight.

“They were all broken before his death,” Addie reiterated.

“Given how he was tied up, whoever did this didn’t want him to be able to untie the knots, if that was even possible. ”

“Any fibers pulled from him or what he was wearing?”

“None, but the blood that was smeared on him was from a deer.”

Noah’s stomach churned with disgust as he absorbed the implications.

As they were about to leave, Addie said, “Oh, one last thing. The lock of hair found at the scene was a match for the one pulled from the Matthews girl’s brush. That’s her.”