Page 39 of The Catcher (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #5)
As Callie delved deeper into the book’s history, her words painted a vivid picture of its significance.
“Based on what was scrawled inside the cover in black ink,” she continued, “her father gave her this copy of The Catcher in the Rye for her seventeenth birthday. He found it in the Big Apple, tucked away in a used bookstore.” Her fingers traced over the faded inscription, a tangible link to a bygone era.
“He said it’s one of the few out there with the original cover, featuring a pen-and-ink drawing of a carousel horse, painted red-orange, with the title superimposed in yellow over the top. "
Noah nodded, absorbing the details as he navigated the winding roads toward their destination.
Saranac Lake loomed on the horizon, its familiar landmarks drawing closer with each passing mile.
“So… all the locations we were sent to were places that held meaning to Elizabeth and her father,” Callie remarked, her tone thoughtful.
“That’s right,” Noah confirmed, his mind racing with possibilities. “They visited them, left their mark.” The puzzle pieces began falling into place, each location revealing a glimpse into the past and the bond between father and daughter.
“The items found were related to symbols from The Catcher in the Rye ,” Callie stated, her voice certain as she glanced at Noah, who nodded in agreement.
“Exactly,” Noah affirmed. “The red hunting hat found on Pete Landry symbolized alienation, much like Holden Caulfield’s tendency to isolate himself from his peers, as did Elizabeth.”
Callie nodded, following Noah’s train of thought. “And the baseball mitt keyring found in the geocache,” she prompted.
Noah continued, “That represented Holden’s attachment to his deceased family member — his brother in the book, but in Anderson’s case, it was a clue that led us to the high school and symbolized her love for swimming.”
Callie’s brow furrowed in thought. “And the sticker of the ducks?”
Noah’s expression softened as he explained, “That represented the fear of change, paralleling Holden’s concern for the fate of the ducks in Central Park. In Elizabeth’s case, it echoed her apprehensions about facing the unknown when she was at Camp Colby.”
Callie exhaled softly, absorbing the connections. “And the others?” she inquired.
“The vintage pin led us to the museum,” Noah continued. “A symbol of history and Holden’s desire for a world frozen in time, free from change.”
As the Jeep negotiated a bend in the road, Noah reached over and flipped the book cover back over, tapping it lightly.
“And the carousel,” he said, with a sense of conviction, “symbolized youth, innocence, memories, and the longing for simpler times. It’s where Holden sought refuge from the complexities of adulthood, much like Elizabeth’s struggle with growing up, being bullied, just as Nicholas was. ”
Callie’s gaze drifted out the window as she contemplated Noah’s words. “And that’s where you think Joshua is?” she asked, turning back to him.
Noah nodded solemnly. “It’s the only photo left on the board they visited,” he affirmed. “It was dated on her seventeenth birthday.”
Callie furrowed her brow, her expression reflecting her confusion.
“What is it?” Noah asked.
“I mean, I can understand the locations,” Callie began. “They visited them together. It’s the only memory he has of what his daughter loved. But the symbols from the book. Why that?”
Noah shrugged, his gaze fixed on the road ahead as they drew nearer to Saranac Lake. “Besides the fact that she loved the book and had a poster of it on her wall?” he asked.
“Just seems there’s more to it,” Callie mused.
“Probably is,” Noah agreed. “It’s said that the guy who murdered John Lennon had a copy of The Catcher in the Rye . In his statement to the cops, he said the character of Holden Caulfield inspired him. And like the character, he thought of himself as the ‘Catcher in the Rye’ of his generation.”
“Okay. But that makes no sense,” Callie countered.
“Murderers don’t make sense.”
“No, I mean the statement.”
“Why?” Noah prompted.
“Well, it’s been a long time since I read that book,” Callie admitted. “But from what I recall,” she continued, “the Catcher in the Rye was someone who saved children from falling off a cliff, the cliff being the metaphor for entering adulthood. He hasn’t saved them; he’s murdered them.”
Noah fell silent, his mind racing as he considered the implications of their findings.
Years of analyzing criminal behavior had taught him to look beyond the surface to delve into the complexities of the human psyche.
In light of what they now knew — the bullying that had led to Elizabeth’s tragic suicide — Noah couldn’t help but wonder if her father believed he was saving others from a similar fate or if he saw the transition into adulthood for those teens as a tragedy best avoided altogether .
But the answers would only come when confronting the father.
Noah swerved, and the Jeep bounced up the curb and rolled to a stop on the green near the enclosed pavilion of William Morris Park, home to the Adirondack Carousel.
Saranac Police cruisers had surrounded the area, their lights flashing.
Noah had already called ahead, hoping the local cops would stop Joshua before they arrived.
With a quick check of his gun, Noah steeled himself for what lay ahead, his breath quickening in anticipation.
He noticed the cops had cleared the place of civilians.
The carousel was only open on the weekends; by now, the place would have had parents with their kids. Fortunately, they were gone.
As they prepared to exit the vehicle, Noah’s gaze fixed on the pavilion housing the carousel. Through the glass windows, he could see the colorful attraction beckoning visitors with its timeless charm. Despite the moment’s chaos, Noah noticed the craftsmanship of each hand-carved animal.
Surrounding the carousel, the rounding boards were adorned with regional scenes painted by local artists adding to the venue’s allure, showcasing the natural splendor of the Adirondacks.
But today, beauty took a backseat to urgency as Noah and Callie stepped out of the Jeep, handguns drawn and ready for action.
They flashed their badges to be given entry.
Moving at a crouch, Noah’s heart raced as he scanned the area, searching for Joshua among the rotating animals. The carousel was in motion, its cheerful melody drowning out the tension.
An officer pointed up ahead.
Amidst the whirl of activity, it was difficult to discern if Joshua was watching them or his final victim.
With each step, Noah’s grip tightened on his gun, his senses on high alert as they closed in on the target.
Today, the Adirondack Carousel stood as a symbol not of innocence and joy but of uncertainty and danger — a stark reminder of the darkness lurking beneath the surface of the Adirondack paradise.
That’s when he saw them.
It wasn’t just Tyler, but Natalie, too, riding the animals, their hands tied to the pole. Both were unconscious. He got a whiff of gasoline and noticed the floor beneath their feet was drenched. Joshua appeared from behind the carousel, holding a gas can and a lit lighter.
The two of them reacted, guns aimed at him, ready to fire.
“Josh. Close the lighter,” Noah said.
He let out a little chuckle. “Your daughter was right; you are a smart man. You are a little behind the curve, but alcohol will do that to you. You see, it dulls the mind and slows everything down,” he said. “But you’re here now. It’s good to see you again, Mr. Sutherland.”
“I saw the video. We could have dealt with it.”
“No, you couldn’t. The school didn’t. Law enforcement didn’t. No one did. No, they simply notched it up to mental illness. But my child wasn’t ill. Those teens were. They bullied her for months and drove her to the edge. Her journals, that video is proof of that.”
“Then why didn’t you just hand it all in to the authorities?”
“Because I didn’t obtain it until her case was long forgotten.”
“But they would have learned from it.”
“Learned? If anything is to be learned. It is that the system is broken. My daughter didn’t want to die.
A week before she took her life, the local hospital made her wait ten hours in the emergency department when she wanted to get help.
She was made to feel like a burden. And the school?
They didn’t believe her. Schools are meant to be safe.
Now, they are places children fear. Fear of bullying. Fear of shooting. Fear of belittling.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Others have managed to get justice.”
“The minority. In most cases teen bullies are let off with a slap on the wrist, a suspension, or they are expelled only to go to the next school and do it again. You call that justice!?”
“Don’t do this, Josh. Look, I feel your pain.”
“Don’t patronize me!” he shouted, shaking the Zippo lighter. The flame flickered. “My kid had a lot of plans for the future, and they took that away from her.”
Noah extended a hand. “I’m not. Okay! I’ve lost people close to me, too.”
“Yeah, but you still have a daughter. A father is not meant to bury his child. ”
“And yet you think it’s okay for the parents of these teens to bury theirs?”
“I feel for them. I do. But they should have raised them better. No, it’s better this way.
Something is lost. Don’t you get it? When we move from being a child to an adult, something is stripped from us.
” He shook his head. “Do you really think those teens who brutalized my daughter would have turned over a new leaf? Become upright citizens? No, they would have become far worse.”
“You don’t know that. Teens grow up. People change.”