Page 6 of The Smart Killer (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #4)

“ A dam Johnson,” Jason said as he lay in the hospital bed. The accusation was insane but expected from a kid who had been found stumbling around incoherently and was as high as a kite. Doctors had confirmed that he’d had a concoction of drugs in his system. “It was him.”

Ray squeezed the bridge of his nose, glanced at Noah, and jerked his head toward the door. They walked out.

Noah closed the door behind him.

Ray looked back through the small pane of dividing glass at the kid. “The mother is as delusional as the kid. I’m beginning to think we should get her tested for drug use.”

“Did you get confirmation from the M.E. that Adam was among the dead?”

He scoffed. “Are you serious? You didn’t buy that, did you?”

“I’ve heard stranger things.”

Ray looked back into the room, shaking his head.

“Ray. Did you get confirmation?”

He sighed. “Only about Callie’s sister. They were still in the process of identifying the others. But, c’mon...” He turned and waved him off. “Adam’s vehicle was at the house. A neighbor saw him go in with Hannah. Four bodies were found. Look, I will get some coffee; you want one?”

“Sure. Black.”

“Laying off the cream?”

“Trying to watch the waistline.”

Ray chuckled. “Hell of a thing getting old, isn’t it, brother?”

As he strolled away, Noah looked back into the room. The boy had been treated and was, by all accounts, now in a good state of mind. That’s what troubled him. He didn’t hesitate. Noah glanced back down the corridor before he went back inside.

Jason locked eyes with him.

“So how come you’re not in uniform — are you undercover?” Jason asked.

“No. I work for State Police as an investigator.”

“Huh.” He lowered his chin and then looked back at him. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“That’s not up to me.”

“But the cops think I started the fire, right? Because of my history.”

Noah cocked his head and walked over to the window, and looked out. The rain had stopped, but the grey skies hadn’t cleared. It felt like the calm before the storm, a momentary reprieve before it unleashed another downpour. “Let’s say it didn’t help.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

“Take me through it again. What were you doing outside?”

“I forgot my key. I wasn’t going to smash a window. I did that once and got heck for it.” He dropped his chin and then lifted his eyes. “I keep a stash of dope in the shed. You know, so my mother can’t find it. Figured I would chill and wait until she got home.”

“Weed?”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

His brow furrowed. “That was all.”

“Jason. I want to believe you, but that relies on you telling the truth.”

“I am.”

“The doctor said you had more than that in your system.”

Jason looked away toward the window.

“Where did you get it?”

“I thought this was about Mr. Johnson?”

“It is. Where did you get the LSD and morphine?”

He paused for a second or two. “From a buddy of mine.”

“You got a name for your friend?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Then I can’t help you here.” Noah headed for the door. “You’ll probably go down for drug use and arson.”

“All right!” he sighed. “I got it from a group in town. They hang out behind Big G’s High Peaks Lanes.”

“The bowling alley?”

He nodded. “Guy named Zeke. I don’t know his last name.”

Noah nodded. He’d been wondering about the distribution of the liquid morphine since he’d gotten wind of it being in the area. “All right. And then what happened?”

“Like I said, it was dark. I saw the glow of headlights and heard an engine rumbling and figured it was my mother. I saw Adam pull into his driveway. He got out with some blonde he’s been bringing over lately. They went inside.”

“What time was that at?”

“Uh. Eight thirtyish. I think. I was…”

“A little out of it?”

He nodded.

“Go on.”

“Anyway, so I’m chilling. Maybe ten minutes later, I hear a garage open and see him come out.”

“Adam?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure it was him?”

“I recognize my neighbor. He backed out a truck.”

“So, not the Tesla?”

Jason groaned. “I might have been under the influence, but I know my cars and the difference between a Tesla and a truck. It was a black 4 x 4. Toyota Tundra. Anyway, he got out and collected some empty gasoline canisters and placed them in the back.”

“How do you know they were empty?”

“Because he dropped one on the driveway while loading them in. Makes a distinctive sound.” He eyed Noah for a second, then continued. “After, he got in the truck, closed the garage, and drove off.”

“Then what?”

The door opened, and Ray came in, juggling two cups of coffee. His eyes bounced between them before he handed one Styrofoam cup to Noah. “And then. I don’t remember much else. The next memory I have is waking up here.”

“Convenient,” Ray said.

“Fuck you, man. I’m telling the truth.”

“Did your mother teach you to talk like that?” Ray asked before taking a sip of his coffee.

“I’m done talking to you.”

Noah gestured for them to step outside.

“Don’t start any fires while we’re out, kid,” Ray said sarcastically. Jason told him where to go, and Ray scoffed as he closed the door.

“How many vehicles are in Adam’s name?” Noah asked.

“One. The Tesla.”

“Jason said he left the house in a truck.”

“Jason was also flying high with the birds — you know — Strawberry Fields, and whatnot,” he said, referencing the Beatles tune. “Hell, I’m surprised he didn’t tell you he left the house in a damn submarine.” He pointed at Noah. “A yellow one.”

“Ray.”

“I will look into it. Okay!? We’ve video-canvassed the neighborhood, and the community is gated, so the security footage should clear that up pretty quickly. But from what we know, he only owned a Tesla, and it was parked outside.”

Noah patted him on the arm. “Keep me in the loop.”

“Where are you heading?”

Noah turned toward him, continuing to walk backward. “To have a conversation with Savannah. See if I can’t get her to cut me some slack so I can help.”

“You already have.”

“By the book.”

“The Sutherlands don’t do anything by the book. You should know that by now.”

“I do. That’s what got me in this mess,” he said before entering the elevator.

The State Police station was a hive of activity, officers buzzing around like bees in a honeycomb of desks and paperwork.

Phones rang incessantly, the chatter of voices filled the air, and the occasional clatter of a dropped item echoed in the controlled chaos.

Bright fluorescent lights overhead flickered, casting a stark, artificial glow across the room, highlighting the stern faces of troopers in various states of urgency.

As Noah pushed open the heavy glass door, he scanned the room for any sign of Savannah.

He spotted Felix, who met his eyes with a quizzical expression.

“She’s not in there,” Felix said, gesturing toward Savannah’s office.

“She’s in a meeting,” he continued, pointing a thumb to one of the back offices, “but you can’t go…

” Noah, driven by urgency, barged into the room before Felix could finish.

Inside, he found Savannah seated behind a desk, her brow furrowed in concentration. In front of her sat a young man, giving a slightly bewildered expression. “I need to speak to you,” Noah announced, his tone firm.

Savannah glanced at him, then back at the young man before her. “Sorry. Excuse me for a moment,” she said, rising from her seat. With a swift motion, she exited the room, Noah following closely behind.

They moved to a nearby room assigned for breaks.

It was a utilitarian space tucked away in a corner of the station.

The walls were a drab shade of beige, adorned only with a few faded motivational posters.

A vending machine stood in one corner, humming softly, ready to dispense snacks and cold drinks to officers on their breaks.

Next to it was a worn-out table surrounded by several mismatched chairs, their surfaces marked with scratches and initials carved by bored investigators.

A small television was mounted on the wall; its screen displayed the local news with the volume turned down low.

On the opposite side of the room was a tiny refrigerator, its door covered in magnets and sticky notes. A modern coffee maker sat nearby, a permanent fixture in the room, constantly brewing the lifeblood of the tired officers who frequented the space.

“I’m supposed to be interviewing a new detective. This better be important.”

“Sorry to barge in but—”

Savannah, tired and exasperated, cut Noah off before he could finish.

“What part of go home, you’re suspended, did you not understand?” Her tone was stern, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.

Noah raised a hand as if trying to placate her. “I’m sorry, but it couldn’t wait. There was a fire over on the east side. Four dead. One of them is Callie Thorne’s sister.”

Savannah’s features softened momentarily, a pang of sympathy crossing her face. “Hold on a second. Have you been investigating it?”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Me? No. Ray called me for a ride back to the station. He—”

Savannah raised a hand to stop him. “You know what, I don’t want to know. Whatever it is, someone else from the department can handle it. You are suspended.”

He nodded, acknowledging her words. “I know that. I was just hoping because…” he trailed off, his gaze meeting hers earnestly. “Look. I get it. I understand. I stepped over the line. I shouldn’t have. But… are things okay with you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I mean, I get the whole supervisor thing, but you don’t appear to be yourself lately.”

Savannah sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. The concern in his gaze seemed to touch her, even in the middle of the tension between them. “It’s complicated, Noah. Let’s just say I have a lot on my mind right now.”

Noah touched her shoulder, and a well of emotion spilled out. He grabbed a handful of paper towels from the table and gave them to her. “Here.”

Right then, a trooper went to walk into the room. Noah raised a hand. His eyes darted to Savannah before he walked away.

“Thank you,” she said, sniffing hard. “Stupid. I really...”

“Don’t have to hide it. We’ve known each other long enough. Supervisor or not, you can tell me.”

“It’s Cora. She’s got cancer.”

Noah released a heavy sigh. It all made sense now. The way she was snapping. It wasn’t her style. She was usually composed. Cora had been Savannah’s life partner for the better part of ten years. “I’m sorry. If I had known…”

Savannah dabbed at the corners of her eyes, then crossed to a mirror on the wall. “Ugh, what a mess.”

“What’s the prognosis?” Noah asked.

“Well, it’s not good,” she replied, an edge to her voice. “The strange part is she’s so optimistic about it all. I’ve never seen anyone like that before. If it was me, I would be on the floor.”

“That’s Cora for you,” he said.

She nodded. “She’s already begun chemo. We’re taking it a day at a time.”

“Look, if there is anything I can do. Just tell me.”

“Appreciate that, Noah.” She glanced toward the door.

“I shouldn’t do this. I really shouldn’t.

No matter what, nothing excuses what you did.

I know being back in this town has taken its toll, and the Sutherland reputation means something to people around here.

But you need to respect the rules, just like everyone else. ”

He nodded.

“So, I’m going to cut you a break this time. But you are going to work alongside someone.”

“What?”

“You are getting a partner.”

“Oh, hell no. We don’t work like that. I don’t work like that.”

“You do now.” She approached the door and shouted into the office. “Felix, send Porter into the break room.”

“Savannah. I’m not babysitting a rookie.”

“You were one once.”

“Yeah, but…” He was at a loss for words. “I’m the worst person you could put him with. You said yourself I have a tendency to break the rules.”

“Exactly. And no one is better to hold you to them than someone fresh out of the academy and knowing nothing but the rules. Just because Hugh Sutherland is your father, it doesn’t mean you get to ride solo and do whatever you like.”

“C’mon. You cannot be serious.”

“You want to go home?” She waited for him to speak. “That’s what I thought.”

After a moment, they both looked toward the doorway, where a young man stepped tentatively inside.

Porter was fresh-faced, his eyes wide with a hint of naivety, as if he was just starting to grasp the complexities of the world he was stepping into.

He had an earnestness about him, a genuine desire to do good, evident in how he held himself.

It was like looking in a mirror from decades ago.

His hair was a messy mop of dark curls, falling slightly over his forehead, and his suit, though neat, had the crispness of someone unaccustomed to the rigors of the job. Despite his apparent lack of experience, there was a determination in his eyes.

Savannah turned, her voice firm but kind. “Noah, meet detective in training Declan Porter.”