Page 14 of The Smart Killer
“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 Policestation 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…”
