Page 46 of The Smart Killer (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #4)

Three days later

Tombstones stood like silent sentinels, marching into the distance, each telling a story of a life now stilled.

Black cars lined the road, a solemn procession leading to the final resting place of Alicia Michaels.

Mourners, faces etched by sorrow, held umbrellas aloft, a shield against the downpour that mirrored the tears of family.

Among the crowd were people from all facets of Alicia’s life. Some were familiar with Noah, but many faces remained strangers. The Fish and Wildlife Service were there to support one of their fallen, and colleagues from the Sheriff’s Office and State Police formed a united front, bound by loss.

And what a loss it was.

Noah swallowed hard, unable to believe it had happened.

It was his worst nightmare.

“In the face of tragedy, we find solace in the lingering memories. A beacon of light extinguished too soon, Alicia Michaels left behind a legacy of love and laughter that will not long be forgotten.” The reverend’s voice resonated through the rain-soaked air, offering comfort and hope to those mourning.

Before them, a cherrywood casket adorned with a wreath of flowers lay as a poignant centerpiece. The vibrant blooms starkly contrasted with the muted surroundings, a final tribute to a life lost.

Noah’s pain was palpable as he gazed upon the casket, grappling with the cruel reality of Alicia’s untimely demise. His sister Maddie offered a silent gesture of support, placing a consoling hand on Noah’s arm. “I’m going to take Gretchen and Mia back to the car.”

“I can stay,” Mia said, gripping his hand tightly.

“It’s okay. I’ll be there in a moment,” Noah replied.

“Take all the time you need,” Maddie murmured, her words lost in the gentle pattering of rain. Ray, still standing beside him, stepped away as his phone rang.

As the crowd began to thin out, Noah stood alone, staring down at the final resting place of the woman he loved. The rain persisted, a fitting backdrop to his silent farewell.

Noah dropped to a knee, the wet soil clinging to his fingers as he placed a clump on Alicia’s grave, a regretful gesture that echoed the haunting words she had left him with.

“You only scraped the surface of what lies beneath.” What did she know that he didn’t?

And had she become as entangled in the reeds as much as his father had?

As he rose and returned to the car, his gaze fell upon Hugh, standing nearby with a group of people. Hugh stepped away from them.

“I know how you feel, son,” he attempted to empathize.

Noah snapped back, his voice tinged with resentment. “You have no idea. She didn’t deserve this.” The stare between them became a tense exchange.

“None of us did, son,” Hugh replied solemnly.

“And yet here you are, alive and well,” Noah retorted. Hugh placed a hand on Noah’s arm. He shook it off as it felt like a searing iron.

“Yes, we’re alive because of you,” Hugh replied.

Noah shook his head, rejecting the attempt at solace. “Alicia was right. I should have listened. Coming back here was the wrong thing.” He surveyed the cemetery around him, wondering how many more people he loved would be buried here. “This place is cursed. There is nothing left here for me.”

Hugh frowned, trying to comprehend his son’s turmoil. “Are you leaving?”

Noah met his father’s gaze, determination etched on his own.

“Leaving? I’m not going anywhere.” With that statement, he attempted to walk past his father, but something stopped him, and he turned toward Hugh.

“I’ve asked you several times about your association with Luther Ashford, but you refuse to give me a straight answer. ”

Hugh responded quickly, with a defensive tone. “I told you, he’s a partner in real estate.”

But Noah was unyielding. “And Alicia? Where did she fit into it all? Was that tracker really for her protection? Or did you no longer trust her?”

“Please. Noah. Let’s not do this.”

“Why, Dad? Scared of what people may hear?” The tension between them escalated, and Noah pressed on. “Landon Emmett hinted at a conversation he overheard between you and Luther. One that involved Alicia, narcotics, and Ethan. You want to tell me about that?”

Hugh turned his face away, unable to meet his son’s gaze.

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Noah muttered, frustration evident in his voice.

His attention shifted towards a black sedan that stopped briefly, its window lowering.

If he wasn’t mistaken, the man peering out looked like Luther Ashford.

The window went back up, and it drove away.

Still standing there, Noah said, “Until you are ready to tell the truth, don’t come near my house, don’t call me, and don’t come near Ethan or Mia,” he declared as he walked away.

He passed by Ray, who was still on the phone. He grabbed Noah’s arm. He lifted a finger to indicate to wait. “Uh-huh. Right. Are you sure? I will. Yes. Thank you. Thank you, doc,” Ray said over the phone before hanging up and gripping Noah by the arms. “He’s awake, Noah. Ethan is awake!”

Ray had Noah’s phone and was fielding any calls.

Surprise and shock registered on Noah’s face. “Did you hear me? The doctor said he’s going to be okay. I told you. Didn’t I? That kid is a Sutherland.” A brief smile broke through the heaviness. Ray’s excitement attracted the attention of Hugh and others nearby.

Ray patted Noah on the back. “Let’s go see him,” he urged, guiding him back to the idling Bronco.

They hurried inside, shaking rain droplets from their jackets.

Gravel crunched beneath the tires. As they left High Peaks Cemetery, Noah glanced in his rearview mirror, and the weather seemed to shift, light breaking through heavy dark clouds, causing him to squint.

For a moment, Noah could have sworn Alicia had orchestrated it as a sign that she was okay and that he would be too.

He wanted to believe it. He needed to for the sake of his kids, but as they drove to see his son, something told him true peace would only come the day he left High Peaks behind.

Two days later, Noah stood on the threshold of Callie Thorne’s apartment, his knuckles tapping lightly on the door. The anticipation lingered in the air, a mix of uncertainty and camaraderie. Callie swung the door open, her expression a blend of curiosity and familiarity.

“Noah? This is a surprise,” she said. His response was a smile that reached his eyes as he presented a bottle of white wine.

“Ah, you read my mind. Come in.”

The apartment welcomed him with a subtle blend of artistic chaos and comfortable disorder.

The living room unfolded before him as he entered — a tapestry of mismatched furniture and vibrant hues.

A worn-out leather couch topped with a colorful quilt that seemed to defy convention dominated the space.

The walls displayed various paintings, each stroke capturing Callie’s love for the outdoors.

An easel stood proudly in one corner, bearing witness to works in progress and the remnants of creative expression.

Noah’s gaze roamed, landing on a sleek flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, a modern contrast to the eclectic surroundings. It was as if the screen provided a portal to another world, a respite from the complexities of reality.

“You painted these?” he inquired, his eyes lingering on the captivating canvases that took up most of the wall.

“Not much else to do when you are suspended,” Callie responded with a casual shrug, her voice carrying a tinge of resignation.

“I hear you there,” Noah acknowledged a shared understanding passing between them. After he destroyed a video camera, their camaraderie deepened as they exchanged tales of their rebellion — Sheriff Rivera’s disapproval and Savannah’s stern gaze.

“You too?” Callie chuckled as she popped the cork from the wine bottle. “What a pair we are,” she mused, acknowledging their unconventional alliance.

“Trust me, if it hadn’t been you, I would have been rushing in there.”

Noah’s mind circled through the recent events as Callie returned with two glasses. The air hung heavy with unspoken condolences as she addressed the tragedy that had befallen Alicia.

“I heard about Alicia. I’m really sorry, Noah,” she said, her words carrying a genuine sense of empathy.

“Sign up to be a cop. Help your community. Make a difference,” he said. “They don’t tell you about these moments.”

She leaned forward. “No. No, they don’t.”

There was another pause.

Noah gulped down the pain and sought solace in the depth of his wine glass. The conversation shifted to the aftermath of the case. “So, what was the outcome?” she asked.

Noah set his glass down and leaned back in the armchair.

“Emmett is in the court system. He’ll go away for life.

He claimed that Michael Taylor stole his patents for the smart home system, though, because he never applied for the patent, it’s pretty much he said, he said.

It’s a real Edison vs. Tesla kind of deal.

However, the more you look into Taylor’s background, the more you can see he wasn’t the brains behind it.

A savvy businessman? Yeah. An inventor? No. ”

Callie took another drink.

Noah continued, “Though I guess you could say Emmett achieved what he set out to do. The backlash, the exposure from the deaths, has lawyers talking about a class action lawsuit and a drop in those buying his homes. I drove through the neighborhoods yesterday, and there were several For Sale signs. Seems folks don’t want to be there anymore.

I give him three months before the whole company goes under, or he offs himself. ”

“And the families? My sister?” she asked.

“Collateral damage, unfortunately.”

Callie looked away. “Adam came by the other day to extend his apologies. He was beating himself up over it all, but he had no way to know what would happen. If anyone has suffered, it’s him.

A girlfriend, two kids, and a brother.” Callie studied Noah’s response. “By the way, how is Ethan?” she asked.

Noah’s face lit up, his eyebrows rising. “That’s right. I forgot to tell you. He’s out of the coma and on the mend. He and I had a long chat a couple of days ago. I felt like I connected with him for the first time in a long time. I just listened.”

Callie smiled. “Sometimes that’s all that is required,” she remarked, a simple truth echoing in the space between them.

A rhythmic knock on the door echoed through the apartment, drawing Callie’s frown and Noah’s curious gaze. “Expecting someone?” he asked, glancing toward the unseen doorway.

She shrugged, a hint of uncertainty in her expression as she rose to answer the door.

From his vantage point in the living room, Noah couldn’t witness the interaction, but he could hear the exchange — an uncanny repetition of their initial gathering but now drenched in a thick Scottish accent.

A few moments later, Angus McKenzie stepped into view, dressed to the nines, a mischievous grin playing on his face.

“Aye. Great minds think alike. Not interrupting anything, am I?” Angus quipped.

To which Callie replied casually, “No. Go make yourself comfortable.”

McKenzie ambled into the room with a sense of ease as he took a seat across from Noah. His eyes held a glint, a sly smile dancing at the corners of his lips as he settled into the armchair.

Seated in silence for a moment, McKenzie leaned forward, breaking the quiet with a whispered inquiry. “What wine did you bring?”

Noah, momentarily caught off guard, stammered, “Huh?”

McKenzie pressed on, his Scottish accent adding a touch of charm. “Wine, laddie. What wine did you bring with you?”

Noah’s gaze wandered toward the kitchen, where Callie was busy. “White Pinot Grigio. It’s her favorite.”

McKenzie snapped his fingers in front of Noah, a sudden realization dawning. “Damn it! I bought the wrong one. That silly idiot down at the liquor store confused the hell out of me. He said he couldn’t understand my accent.”

“What did you buy in the end?”

“Girls Night Out.”

Noah laughed.

“Hey, stop it,” McKenzie said, slapping his knees and releasing a chuckle. “I really thought I had nailed it,” he said in almost a whisper, glancing off into the kitchen. “At least it was wine this time. I bought her cooking wine last time.”

Tears from laughter rolled down his cheeks. “McKenzie, you are something else.”

“What is so funny?” Callie asked, rejoining and inquiring about the commotion. Noah smirked, teasing McKenzie.

“Oh, McKenzie here was just saying he would love to buy one of your paintings.”

Her eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and amusement. “Oh, please. You don’t want one of these.”

But McKenzie, undeterred, kept his gaze fixed on Noah, a genuine smile breaking across his face.

A lifeline extended to win a few brownie points.

“Why wouldn’t I? They are fantastic.” Rising to his feet, he assumed the role of an art critic, framing the imaginary masterpiece with his hands.

“The way the light hits it. Marvelous. It invokes such emotion. Joy. Peace. I almost feel choked up.”

Noah stifled a laugh, and McKenzie, in a playful attempt to kick him in the shins, stumbled forward, colliding with her painting. “Ah, bugger!” McKenzie said. Laughter erupted, and Noah, caught in the moment, couldn’t help but join in.

“You’ll have to buy it now,” Callie said, seeing the tear in the canvas.

At that moment, within the confines of Callie’s eclectic apartment, they found solace — a sanctuary where shared laughter became a beacon of light piercing through the shadows of challenges.

The camaraderie among the three continued to fill the room, a brief respite from the weight of recent events.

Rising from his seat, Noah approached the window, pushing aside the drapes to reveal the High Peaks in the distance — the silhouette of mountains against the night sky.

The Adirondack forest sprawled beneath, and the town’s lights twinkled like stars.

Life continued in the ebb and flow of cars and homes, all within a town harboring secrets.

For a fleeting moment, beneath the laughter and banter, Noah felt a spark of life and hope again.

“Noah, you should have heard what he just said,” Callie said, laughter erupting.

He released the curtains, shutting out the darkness for a while.

THANK YOU FOR READING

If you enjoyed that, please take a second to leave a rating and review, both help, it’s really appreciated. The fifth novel in the series, The Catcher is now available to pre-order.

Thanks kindly, Jack.