Page 21 of The Smart Killer

“You never called when he never showed up?”

He dipped his chin. “I figured the game was running a little late. I cracked open some beers and passed out.”

Ray exchanged a glance with Noah, silently communicating that he thought the guy probably was full of shit. It certainly did seem convenient, but there was the glaring question. Why would he kill his fiancée, his kids, and his brother?

Ray interjected, his tone a giveaway for his disbelief. “How long have you known Hannah?”

He shrugged. “Nine months, give or take.”

“And how would you describe your relationship?”

“Good.” He frowned. “We just got engaged. Why? You think I did it?”

Ray lifted an eyebrow.

“No, fuck you. I didn’t do that. Why would I kill my own kids?”

Noah interjected, “Mr. Johnson. No one is saying you killed them.”

“He sure as hell is implying I did.”

Ray leaned back in his seat. “We’re just trying to get all the facts.”

“Well, then, don’t point the finger at me. I wasn’t anywhere near it when it went up, and I have a grocery clerk and multiple people down at the marina that can vouch for me.”

Ray clasped his hands together. “You are aware there are things called timers.”

“You son of a bitch!”

Noah was quick to intervene. “Ray. Can you…” he said, pointing to the door. Ray headed out, and Noah followed him. As soon as the door was closed, he let loose. “Really? Timers.”

“I had to push his buttons; see how he would react.”

“Well, congrats, you did a fine job.”

“What, we’re supposed to believe he leaves just before the place goes up and doesn’t return because he drank too much?”

“Ray, how many times has Tanya paid to have you put into the back of a taxi to bring you home when you were only meant to be out for one beer?”

“That’s different.”

Noah shook his head. “Look, right now, he may have answers to whoever was behind this, but if you go pulling that shit, he’ll lawyer up, and we won’t get anything.”

Ray shrugged and headed back inside. Noah straightened out his suit and took a seat. “I’m sorry. My apologies,” Ray said before Noah continued.

“Mr. Johnson. Hannah’s sister told us you received a letter a few days ago. Is that right?”

He shifted his glare from Ray to Noah and nodded. “Correct.” He scoffed. “I just thought it was some joke, you know, someone from the neighborhood just being an asshole. I threw it out. There was no name on it. No return address.”

“What do you do for a living, Adam?”

“Construction.”

“And would you know of anyone who might want to harm you, your kids, brother, or Hannah?”

He shook his head. “Look, I moved here from Albany for a slower pace of life. I thought I had found that.”

“And Hannah. How did that come about?”