Page 39 of The Smart Killer (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #4)

T here were no guarantees in any investigation; hunches, tips, and leads could come to nothing.

Noah had seen it time and time again. That’s why he never got his hopes up.

But this time, he was convinced he was on the right track.

After meeting with two of the names given, both of whom lived in High Peaks, and verifying their alibis, they headed north to Plattsburgh City.

The Buxton Apartments were a dismal sight.

The weather-beaten and stained exterior seemed to absorb the sunlight rather than reflect it. The windows were covered with grime, and the entrance door creaked as they pushed in. A persistent odor, dampness, and neglect lingered in the dimly lit corridor.

“What a shithole this is. I’ve seen cleaner crime scenes. It makes you wonder how landlords can get away with this kind of thing, never mind sleeping at night,” McKenzie said.

They climbed the narrow staircase to the fourth floor, and as they approached the door to Landon Emmett’s apartment, McKenzie couldn’t help but voice his discontent.

“Listen, Noah, I’m thinking. If this is not our guy, I’m with Porter. Let’s face it: Alejandro could have borrowed one of these other drones without Jim knowing. The guy didn’t look like he had the best eyesight.”

“He’s a pilot. He would hardly be allowed to teach students if his eyes were bad.”

“He wasn’t the one flying,” McKenzie said before chuckling.

Noah grunted, focusing on the task at hand. Knocking on the door again.

Before anyone could respond, the door behind them opened. A black woman with dreadlocks emerged. “You missed him. He’s doing laundry.”

Noah nodded, his gaze shifting to the door. “Do you know when he will be back?”

She shrugged. “Ask him yourself, he’s on the lower floor.” She pointed. “Go down the stairwell, take a left, then it’s on the right. You can’t miss it,” she said before walking away, leaving them in the corridor.

As they descended the stairwell, a door opened, and a heavily bearded man with a tight black T-shirt, jeans, and work boots looked up at them. He was carrying a load of laundry in a basket. “Landon Emmett?” Noah asked.

“No, he’s still in the laundry room,” the man replied, gesturing with a nod.

They moved past him and entered the corridor to the laundry room on the right. The steady hum of machines echoed through the dimly lit space; the detergent smell dominated. When they entered, a tall, skinny white guy was tossing clothes into a washer. He glanced at them but continued filling it.

“Mr. Emmett Landon?” Noah inquired.

With a wave of the hand, the guy looked up and said, “You just missed him. He went…”

In that split second, Noah realized the heavily bearded man they passed in the stairwell was Emmett. Before he could finish, Noah turned and ran. “Son of a bitch. McKenzie, head out front. I’m going up.”

He extracted his firearm, holding it low as he ascended the steps, ever aware of the danger. Entering the corridor, he hurried toward the apartment. The door was already open. Noah cautiously approached, his gun at the ready. “Landon Emmett. State Police. If you are inside, make yourself known.”

Nothing.

Silence.

Noah tensed up as he entered. The room was dimly lit, and a tense silence hung in the air. He moved from room to room, checking corners and keeping his senses sharp.

Suddenly, a scream echoed behind him. Noah wheeled around and hurried out of the apartment to see a woman lying on the floor, pointing down the corridor.

Her apartment was wide open. Emmett had slipped past him.

Noah sprinted to the end of the corridor just in time to see Emmett duck into an elevator.

He rushed it, catching a glimpse of him through a narrow opening before it sealed shut.

Noah slammed his hand on the button to get it to open, but it was already in motion, descending. He got on the radio. “McKenzie, he’s coming down to you in the elevator.”

“I’m at the doors,” McKenzie replied over the radio. A second later, he said, “The elevator has stopped on the second floor, Noah.”

Noah hurried down the staircase, bursting onto the second floor, his eyes darting back and forth.

A child on his knees, holding a toy car, pointed towards an apartment.

Noah approached cautiously, gun at the ready.

The door was ajar, so he used the tip of his boot to push it wide.

The reaction was instant; Emmett fired a shot, narrowly missing Noah.

More screams echoed from inside. Noah held back for a second before he moved in, only to find a terrified family of three cowering together in the living room.

The window was open, and the drapes billowed.

The Asian man’s eyes darted to it. Noah rushed to the window just in time to see Emmett swing down to a balcony, crashing through a window.

“He’s on the first floor,” Noah shouted, turning back in.

“In an apartment below me. I don’t know which one.

Just be careful,” he warned McKenzie over the radio as he ran out and headed toward the stairwell.

Gunfire erupted from below, round after round. When Noah made it down, he found McKenzie on the ground. “McKenzie!” He rushed over, only to find McKenzie gripping his chest. Noah tore open his shirt and sighed in relief — he was wearing his ballistic vest.

“Go. He went out the side entrance,” McKenzie gasped, trying to catch his breath.

Noah rushed toward the side entrance, bursting out into the open.

He scanned the terrain around him before moving.

There was nothing at the rear of the apartment, nothing at the front.

Then he heard a scream, followed by a vehicle tearing away, narrowly avoiding a patrol car from Plattsburgh Police.

As he rushed to his Bronco, Noah’s eyes widened.

A pregnant woman lay on the ground, a victim of a carjacking.

He glanced to his right and realized it was too late.

Even if he could go after Emmett, the chances were he would be long gone by the time he made it out of the parking lot.

In the chaos of police arriving, he desperately yelled to one of them to relay Emmett’s direction, but his words were drowned out in confusion, making little sense to the confused officers.

“Get on the floor!” officers yelled at him.

“I’m with State Police!” he yelled as he spread-eagled.

All he could do was watch as Emmett slipped away.