Page 29 of Her Final Hours
“Get my life together? What’s that supposed to mean?” Noah asked.
“I know you are seeing a therapist. Perhaps it will help you. But a word of advice, don’t let it get out that you are going there. People around here might see that as a form of weakness.”
“Weakness?”
“Uh-huh,” he said.
“You know what, dad. Things might have been different if you had visited a therapist years ago. Have you ever thought about that, or are you too proud to admit that you had problems?”
“Oh, please don’t drag me into your issues.”
Noah jabbed a finger at his own chest. “My issues. You haven’t the faintest clue, do you? Well, let me enlighten you. Are you aware Ray tried to take his life a few months ago? I pulled him out of a river. Or that he owed hundreds of thousands of dollars to the casino? A casino, I might add, that is owned by the same people you are in bed with — the Ashford family. Or how about that a gun was held to his head by the same people if he didn’t pay... or that I handed over what little I had in savings to get him out of that situation so that he wouldn’t have to come crawling back to you? Does any of that sound like my issues?”
Hugh turned, frowning. “Take his life? Ray? You must be confused. Ray is and has been the most stable one out of all of you. Next to Luke, rest his soul.”
Noah laughed. “You really are out of tune with your family if that’s what you believe. You know what, fuck this shit. If you want to keep believing that, go ahead. But the next time youwant to toss me a bone, tell me. Because I might throw it back when I discover it came from a dead man’s bones.”
“Dead man’s bones? Now you’re making no sense.”
“Dad, I’m the only one that has been talking sense to you for years, but you have never listened. You never do. So if you’re giving advice, let me give you some of my own. Call Kerri and tell her you’ve changed your mind and stay as far away from the Ashford family as possible.”
“A little late for that,” Hugh said.
Noah tried to read his expression but Hugh turned away, leaving him to read between the lines.
“What kind of arrangement did you make with Luther Ashford while you were sheriff?”
“That is none of your business.”
“It is when our family is threatened.”
“I will handle that matter.”
“Will you?” Noah scoffed, shaking his head. He knew it wasn’t worth continuing to talk about it. Hugh would only skirt around it. Noah took a seat at the kitchen island, chewing over the conversation. Hugh returned with a pot of coffee a minute or two later and set it down.
“Son, there are matters that you won’t understand, and right now, I can’t tell you anything, but… just know that what I do or have done has always been for this family. Now was that all, or was there some other pressing matter?”
As they settled in the kitchen, their mugs of steaming coffee providing a much-needed respite from the cold outside, Noah shifted gears and brought him up to speed on the situation with the girl found in Westport. The weight of the conversation hung in the air; both men were aware of the gravity of discussing Payton.
Leaning forward, Noah cleared his throat, knowing that asking his father to remember was like taking a stab in the darkwith all the talk of him having early Alzheimer’s. “I need to know more about Payton’s case. The further back we go, the less there seems to be. You were sheriff at the time. What do you remember? What leads were there?”
Hugh’s weathered face softened; lines of concern etched across his forehead. He took a deep breath, his gaze distant as he delved into his long-buried memories. “Noah, those cases… they went cold. The truth is, we didn’t have much to go on. Back then, the resources were limited, departments in different counties didn’t communicate as they do now, DNA was in its infancy, CCTV, and cameras on phones not even heard of, and as time passed, the leads grew sparse.”
He paused, his eyes searching Noah’s for understanding. “When we renovated the office, most of the case files were boxed up and put into storage. But over the years, some of it got misplaced, maybe even tossed out. The evidence went missing, and what little remains is likely in containers at the old station. It’s been years since I was in office as sheriff, so I can’t say for certain what’s left.” He glanced off to his right and sighed. “And well, Sheriff Roberts took over from me, and we all know how that turned out.”
Noah’s heart sank at the revelation. The realization that not only had crucial information been lost or discarded but that Daniel Roberts may have purposely destroyed it before he was convicted of corruption. It only added another layer of frustration to the already elusive nature of Payton’s disappearance. He clenched his fists. “There has to be something,” he implored, his voice tinged with desperation and determination.
“Not unless that girl’s memory returns.”
Noah sighed. “There must be more; some leads, suspects, or evidence overlooked. Is there anyone I can talk to, anyone you think might know more about that day and those after?”
Hugh shook his head, regret weighing heavily on him. “Noah, I wish I could help you more. The best I can suggest is reaching out to some of the old contacts, but the truth is, many have retired or moved on. The case grew cold, and its resources dwindled over time. It breaks my heart to say, but you might face an uphill battle.”
Noah nodded.
Hugh continued, “Of course, you could reach out to Payton’s family, but I expect you might not want to after all that transpired.”
The sting of blame pierced his heart as strongly as it did that day. As he had been the last to see Payton alive, it was natural for her family to think he knew more than he did. The truth was, he wasn’t the only one. There was Jenna Moulton, Payton’s best friend. Her family eventually moved away from the area to avoid the scrutiny. He wasn’t as fortunate, as his father was the sheriff. His father had him stay clear of the Scott family since rumors abounded that Hugh was covering up for him. It wasn’t true. None of the rumors were, but they had every reason to scrutinize him.
