Page 3 of The Catcher (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #5)

“Yeah, well, you aren’t driving back. I'll have one of the guys drop your vehicle back at your house. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re still over the limit.

” She knew all too well how long alcohol could last in the system.

The number of people she’d pulled over on the way to work the next day — who had taken a breathalyzer and claimed they drank the night before, but had blown over the legal limit — was staggering.

The High School was located in the heart of town, set back on the rise from Main Street and hemmed in by School and Cummings Roads, which were to the north and south.

Nestled amid the landscape of the Adirondack Mountains, its exterior stood out with a blend of traditional architecture and modern design.

It had always reminded Callie of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the Big Apple, with large steps leading up to the entrance of monstrous Roman columns.

As the cruiser rolled up to the school, they were greeted by a sprawling campus framed by vibrant foliage in the fall.

The main three-story building boasted a red-brick facade, with large windows allowing natural light to flood the hallways.

The grand entrance adorned with intricate stonework welcomed students and visitors alike, while the school’s name was proudly displayed above the double doors in bold lettering.

Surrounding the main building, lush green lawns stretched outwards, dotted with towering trees and manicured shrubbery. A flagpole stood tall in the courtyard, the Stars and Stripes fluttering proudly in the breeze.

Nearby, athletic fields sprawled across the landscape, offering space for football games, track meets, and soccer matches. On game days, the sounds of cheering crowds and the echo of whistles could often be heard drifting across the campus, adding to the lively atmosphere of the school.

Callie parked outside and let the cruiser idle.

“Here, have one of these,” she said, handing him a stick of mint gum. “You want me to stick around?”

“No,” he said, popping the gum in his mouth and chewing rapidly as he looked up at the school. “But thank you.”

She nodded. “You going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

She turned in her seat, resting one arm on the steering wheel, making it clear that her question wasn’t an off-the-cuff remark but that she genuinely cared. “See, that’s the thing, Noah. Will you?”

He didn’t answer immediately but instead got out and closed the door. He looked away before leaning down. “What?”

“I’m not here to ride your ass. Okay? I’m doing this as a favor to Mia. And if you don’t want to talk to me about what you are going through, that’s fine. But talk to someone,” she said. She reached into her pocket and handed him a white business card.

Noah looked at it and then scoffed. “Dr. Olivia Newbury?”

Callie nodded. “She’s actually good. I started seeing her. You should speak to her.”

He chuckled as he handed it back to her. “I already do.”

With that, he walked away.

As Callie was about to respond, an urgent call came in over the radio.

Noah swallowed hard as he entered.

Inside, the hallways buzzed with activity as students hurried to and fro between classes.

Locker doors lined the walls, adorned with colorful posters and stickers that reflected the diverse interests of the student body.

Bulletin boards displayed announcements for upcoming events, academic achievements, and extracurricular activities, serving as a school community’s information hub.

Noah glanced into several classrooms equipped with state-of-the-art technology, interactive whiteboards, and multimedia projectors.

All of it was a vast improvement intended to enhance the learning experience.

Comfortable desks and chairs filled each room, providing students with a welcoming environment to engage in their studies.

It had come a long way from when he’d studied there.

The smell? Well, that was the same. It never changed.

Noah paused briefly at a drinking fountain, his reflection flickering in the pane of glass nearby as he ran his fingers through his unruly waves, attempting to tame them. He straightened his shirt before hurrying down a maze of hallways toward the guidance counselor’s office.

Upon arriving, he peered through the dividing glass window and spotted Mia seated in front of the desk. Without hesitation, he closed his eyes, collecting himself, before knocking and entering.

Inside, Mr. Anderson rose from his seat, extending a hand in a welcoming gesture. He had an average appearance, with neatly trimmed hair and a friendly demeanor that put Noah at ease.

Noah apologized immediately, a note of contrition in his voice. “I am so sorry. Completely slipped my mind.”

Mia narrowed her eyes at him, her expression betraying a hint of exasperation, but she remained silent as Mr. Anderson offered a reassuring smile.

“Not a problem,” Mr. Anderson replied. “I expect your work with State pulls you away at unexpected times.”

“More than you know,” Noah acknowledged, returning the handshake before sitting beside Mia.

“Well, let’s get down to it, shall we?” Mr. Anderson smiled, settling back into his chair and tapping on his keyboard.

Noah glanced at Mia, noting her disinterest in making eye contact. He knew he would hear about his tardiness later, but for now, he focused on the meeting, eager to address any concerns.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, as Noah moved to exit the room, Mr. Anderson’s voice stopped him in his tracks. “Mr. Sutherland, I’d like a moment alone, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” Noah turned to Mia. “I’ll meet you outside.”

As the door closed, Noah could already sense the conversation’s direction.

“I thought it was best to have this chat outside of prying ears. Kids today are so impressionable, you know?” Mr. Anderson began, perching on the edge of his desk with a look of concern.

Noah gave a nod, bracing himself for what was to follow.

“I’m not one to pry, but I couldn’t help but notice... the smell of alcohol on you,” Mr. Anderson continued .

For a split second, Noah entertained the idea of walking out, of weaving another lie to deflect the truth. But something in him, perhaps a fleeting sense of honesty, urged him to come clean, at least partly.

“Oh, yeah, that,” Noah replied with a casual shrug, motioning over his shoulder.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. That’s part of the reason why I’m late.

You see, a good friend of mine had his stag last night.

There was a party over in Saranac Lake. One thing led to another, and I found myself on the receiving end of a mixed drink that was meant for my friend.

Anyway, it was a real mess. Vomit. The works.

It didn’t help that I was the designated driver for the evening.

Everyone had to take a cab. They weren’t happy.

By the time I got in, it was late. I didn’t get a chance to shower. I’m sorry.”

Mr. Anderson nodded understandingly. “So you weren’t?—?”

“Drinking this morning? God, no. I learned my lesson from my father. You go down that road and... well, let’s say it doesn’t end well,” Noah interjected.

Anderson nodded again. “You’d be right there. But tell that to the kids of today. More and more are falling off the edge of a cliff every day. I just thought with all the losses you’ve been through...”

“Losses?” Noah interrupted, his heart sinking as he realized where this conversation was headed.

“Before you arrived, Mia told me about her uncle and mother passing,” Mr. Anderson explained gently. “And your girlfriend, recently.”

Noah felt a wave of awkwardness wash over him, his defenses crumbling under Mr. Anderson’s scrutiny.

The counselor continued, “I mean, I get it. Grief has a way of blotting out all sensibility. So I would understand, but...” Mr. Anderson hesitated, sucking air between his teeth.

“Kids. Not so much. They tend to mirror our behavior.”

“Well, you don’t have anything to worry about. And I’m not currently on duty. But thank you for your concern,” Noah replied, offering a strained smile before shaking his hand and exiting the room.

As he stepped into the corridor, Noah couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed inside. Mia locked eyes with him and then walked off without saying a word. The lying was getting worse, and with each passing day, it weighed heavily on his conscience.