Page 26 of The Smart Killer (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #4)
T he last person Noah expected to see in his bedroom was Ray.
A sudden thud jolted Noah from his sleep; his heart raced as he sat up in bed.
Confused and disoriented, he blinked against the dim light filtering through the curtains, his eyes searching the room for the source of the disturbance.
It took a moment for his senses to catch up with his surroundings, and when they did, he found himself staring at a newspaper that had landed on his chest.
Blinking away the remnants of sleep, he looked off to his right to find Ray standing nearby.
Ray pushed back the curtains, revealing the early morning sky painted in hues of orange and pink, with the tranquil lake shimmering in the distance.
The room, bathed in the soft morning light, blended rustic charm and modern simplicity.
Weathered with age, wooden furniture stood against the walls, complemented by muted tones of blue and green in the curtains and bedspread.
A faint scent of the earth blew in from the window, a testament to the wilderness surrounding the lakeside cabin.
“Wake up. We’ve got a lot to talk about,” Ray said, his tone grave yet oddly composed.
His gaze lingered on the newspaper before meeting Noah’s eyes.
“By the way, good job.” He gestured toward the front page, where a headline screamed the news of Alejandro’s demise and showed a house consumed by flames in the accompanying photograph. The article was written by Carl McNeal.
FAMILY MURDERER KILLED IN SHOOTOUT WITH POLICE
“How many cases is that now in the bag?” Before Noah could say anything, he waved him off. “Forget it. Come on. Get up. I brought you coffee.”
Ray turned and walked toward the door without saying another word, leaving Noah bewildered.
The clock on the bedside table taunted him with the time — just after seven in the morning.
Groaning, he sank back onto the bed, his mind flooded with the events of the previous day: Alejandro, the church, his death, and the invasive search of his home.
And yet, all of it paled when compared to his time at the hospital with Ethan.
With a sigh, Noah picked up the folded newspaper, fingers trembling slightly as he unfolded it.
The front page held a chilling juxtaposition of images: Alejandro’s stern face staring back.
A mugshot from when he was arrested for spying on families.
Juxtaposed with the raging inferno that had consumed one of the homes and its inhabitants.
Carl McNeal’s byline mocked him from the corner of the page, a reminder of the journalist who had documented the gruesome events.
Noah shook his head, casting aside the lack of sleep, and tossed back the covers.
He draped his legs off the edge of the bed, his bare feet meeting the cool wooden floor.
As he stood, he felt a surge of energy course through him from finally getting a good night’s sleep.
He sauntered into the adjoining bathroom, took a shower, and then got dressed quickly, readying himself to face what news Ray had brought.
The kitchen, done up in warm tones of beige and brown, emanated a cozy atmosphere as Noah came out. The granite counter gleamed under soft overhead lights. Shelves lined with neatly organized spices and kitchenware framed the area, and a subtle aroma of fresh coffee hung in the air.
Ray sat at the breakfast counter, his tall frame relaxed on a stool, while the sunlight streamed through the window, highlighting the faint lines etched on his face.
His brother motioned toward a cup on the counter. “That’s yours. So, when did Alicia move in?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity. “She has moved in, right?” He paused, a playful glint in his eyes.
Taking a sip of his coffee, Noah nodded in response. “About a month ago. She still has her place. Just easier to be here.”
Ray looked at him. “I see.”
His gaze shifted toward the French doors, and he followed Noah as he walked into the sunroom.
The sunroom offered a panoramic view of the tranquil surroundings.
The glass panes framed a picturesque scene: the glistening lake stretched before them, the water mirroring the azure sky above.
Only two cabins, Noah’s and his neighbor Ed’s, stood near the water’s edge, offering a sense of seclusion and privacy.
In the distance, homes were dotted around the lake, nestled amidst the lush greenery, their chimneys releasing thin tendrils of smoke into the clear morning air.
“You mind telling me why you’re here at this ungodly hour and how you got in?” Noah asked, his tone laced with amusement. Ray’s smile widened.
“Alicia let me in. She was on her way out to work,” Ray replied casually, his eyes meeting Noah’s as he sat across from him.
“Well, at least one of you got permission. For a moment, I was starting to think that my family just thinks this place is an open house,” he added, referencing the earlier encounter with their father. He sniffed hard and took a breath, feeling his muscles relax.
“And?”
“We got ’em,” Ray said, his voice a mix of triumph and urgency.
“Got who?” Noah asked.
Ray leaned forward and handed him his phone. “Hit play,” he said, then confidently sat back, his eyes fixed on Noah.
Noah tapped the screen, and a video started to roll. The scene unfolded in a chaotic blur of lights and music. As the footage played, recognition flickered in Noah’s eyes. “Is that…” he began, his voice trailing off.
Ray nodded. “Big G’s bowling alley. Video footage was taken from one of our undercover cameras.”
Noah leaned in, glued to the screen, observing the interaction near the bar where teens bought sodas and snacks.
He watched as Zeke, the familiar face of a troubled youth, engaged in conversation.
“I’m surprised I haven’t seen you here before.
I’m usually good with faces,” Zeke said, his tone smooth.
“I’m meant to meet a friend here.” The camera shifted as the person moved.
Noah tilted his head. Something about that voice. Familiar. The thump of music made it hard to hear.
“Well, you are a pretty little thing. Tell me. You looking to get hooked up?” Zeke’s words dripped with sleaze.
“Is that supposed to be a pickup line?”
That voice again. It could almost be. A hand moved into the frame to pick up a cup of pop. Noah’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the ring, a distinctive piece that Lena had given to Mia. His gaze lifted, meeting Ray’s knowing eyes.
Then, Zeke spoke again. “You know, the stuff that makes you forget all the crap.”
Mia hesitated before asking, “How much does it cost?”
“Nothing. The first one is free. On the house. My treat.” Zeke reached under the bar and pulled out a small bottle.
He uncapped it, removed the plastic top from Mia’s drink, and poured it in.
“There you go, sweetheart. Drink up. I guarantee it will blow your mind.” He set the small bottle back under the counter.
Ray sat across from him, a triumphant smile tugging at his lips. “You made Mia go in?” Noah asked, his voice strained, his anger evident.
“No. She wanted to. I mean, I took her out for that ride-along she’s been bugging me about because you won’t take her out."
“For good reason.”
“Noah, she’s seventeen. She’s got her eyes fixed on following in our footsteps.”
“Ray. You made her go in!” he said again, loudly.
“It’s not a crack house, Noah. Teens go in there every day.” Ray shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“You don’t get it.”
Ray waved him off. “It was all unofficial.”
“Oh, unofficial? Are you out of your damn mind! Getting a teen involved? My daughter?”
Ray leaned forward eager to get his point across. He stabbed a finger at the floor. “She was able to obtain something we may not have been able to find out, let alone get,” Ray explained, his tone measured, his excuse valid in his mind.
Noah set the phone down, his mind reeling with a complex mix of emotions. “When was this?” he asked, his voice barely containing his frustration.
“Last night,” Ray replied, his eyes gauging Noah’s reaction yet revealing some regret, now in hindsight.
Noah lost it. He lunged at his brother, his hands finding their way to Ray’s collar, his grip tightening as he shouted, “After what happened to Ethan, you sent my daughter in there?!”
Ray’s eyes bulged, the chair tilting back from Noah’s force.
Ray tried to pry Noah’s hands away, his voice strained.
“Whoa, whoa, Noah, Mia is fine.” His brother winced as Noah’s grip tightened, the fury in his eyes unmistakable.
Despite the intense anger radiating from Noah, Ray’s expression remained calm, his eyes meeting his with a steely resolve.
“We had to, Noah,” Ray said, his voice firm.
“We needed eyes and ears on the inside. Mia volunteered. She handled it professionally.”
Noah couldn’t believe it. He shoved his brother away, his anger burning hot.
“If it’s not Hugh, it’s you. Alicia was right.
I shouldn’t have come back to this place.
It has been nothing but hell since I’ve returned.
” His voice cracked with despair, the weight of the past bearing down on him.
His anger pulsed through him, his chest heaving with every breath as he glared at Ray.
“I think you’re blowing this out of proportion,” Ray said, trying to defuse the tension, though his confusion was evident.
“I’ve lost a brother, I’ve lost my ex-wife, and I nearly lost my son, and you’re saying I’m blowing this…” Noah’s voice trailed off, his jaw clenched, his hands balled up into a fist at his side. It took every ounce of self-control not to let his fury consume him or lash out.