Page 25 of The Smart Killer

“That’s great, Dad. Really good to hear.”

At the sound of gravel crunching outside, they both turned their heads.

“That’s probably Gretchen now,” Hugh said.

Through the door sidelights, Noah spotted the green F-150. “Nope. It’s Alicia.”

“Ah, finally get the chance to talk to her. Kind of elusive, this gal of yours. You should bring her over for supper this Sunday. That’s another reason I swung by. I want all the family there. Now that I’m settled, I think it would be good.”

“If I have the time.”

“Make the time,” Hugh said firmly as the door opened.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were having company.”

“Ms. Michaels.”

“Mr. Sutherland.”

“Oh, goodness. Call me Hugh,” he said, smiling at Noah before he leaned in and hugged her. Alicia’s eyes widened over his shoulder, her gaze on Noah. He shrugged.

“I was just telling Noah here that we will be having supper Sunday at my house like we have done before. You must come.”

The way Hugh said it, made it sound more like a demand than an invite.

“I would love that. Thank you,”

Hugh smiled at them both. “Well, I should get going. Leave you two lovebirds to it. Remember, Noah. Sunday. Be there,” he said, pointing at him before letting himself out through the rear sliding door. Noah watched as he ambled toward the lake, where a large motorboat was moored.

“I swear that man moved into my old place just so he could be across the lake from me.”

Alicia tossed a work bag down. “You’re overthinking it, Noah. He’s getting old. It’s natural to want family around.”

“Well, that’s the thing. For the longest time, he hasn’t considered me family.”

“People change. Look at us,” Alicia said, sidling up beside him, wrapping an arm around his back, and leaning in to kiss him. She squeezed his ass. “Well? Kids don’t come back for another hour. We’ve got the house to ourselves.”

“Tempting. Really,” he said. “But I am exhausted. I haven’t slept since yesterday evening.”

“Oh? Okay,” she said, breaking away.

Noah noted her frown. “Alicia. I want to. I do, but…”

She waved him off. “You don’t need to explain. It’s probably best. I need to take a shower. I’ve got a meeting this evening. Fish and Game have some new educational video they want us toreview.” She rolled her eyes, then chuckled before unbuttoning her shirt and ambling off to the shower.

As Noah glanced back at the sound of his father’s boat engine starting up, a text came in from Ethan’s teacher. On the way home, he’d sent one to ask if Ethan had been attending all his classes.

Her response was clear.

“He hasn’t missed one.”

Noah had to wonder if Ethan had learned from his sister’s mistakes or maybe his fear of his son using drugs weren’t unfounded, just well covered up, like the fire.

8

Daylight offered few clues.

It was unusual for an investigation. Every crime scene eventually yielded some inkling of a breadcrumb that could be followed: DNA, video footage, footprints, tire tracks, fingerprints, blood and other bodily fluids, hair, or fibers.