Page 27 of The Smart Killer
At some point close to the end, as he fielded questions, Carl McNeal managed to get an opportunity to squeeze in a query, except it wasn’t a question, more of a statement.
“Chief Welland. If there is no risk to the community, no crime has occurred, and the crash and fire investigations unit have deemed the fires accidental. Can you tell us why investigators from BCI, the Bureau of Criminal Investigation, are here?”
“Our resources are limited. At times, we reach out to other agencies for assistance. As I said, the personal safety of our community is paramount. We like to ensure that no stone has been left unturned, and—”
“I understand,” Carl said, cutting him off. “But surely, you understand my point. On the one hand, you are telling us that the deaths of these homeowners are being treated as tragic accidents, and then, on the other hand, you are saying the investigation is ongoing. Which one is it? Criminal or accidental?”
Noah had to take his hat off to Chief Welland. He handled the questions tactfully, deferring when unable or not wishing to answer. The fire chief quelled some of the media’s doubts by explaining that his statement stemmed from his initial findings.
“Is it because a young teenager high on drugs who was involved in a series of arsons last year was nearby? Can you tell us if he has been arrested and charged?” Carl asked.
That created a storm of questions.
Carl glanced back at some of the other media. He locked eyes with him, and Noah could have sworn he grinned. “Son of a bitch is enjoying riling them up,” Noah said to Ray. “I’m done with this,” Noah added, walking out. He and Porter had only made it a short way down the corridor when he heard the clatter of shoes.
“Detective. Detective! Could I have a moment of your time?”
He glanced back to see Carl and one other. “Not now,” he said.
“It’s not regarding the fires. I am creating a piece on the death of Lena Grayson, your ex-wife. I was hoping I could get a quote from you regarding…”
Noah lost it. He spun around and grabbed hold of Carl by the collar, thrusting him up against the wall. “Listen to me, you little scum.”
“Noah. Noah!” Ray charged over and got between them. “Let him go. Let him go, Noah.”
Noah sneered at him and then released his grip. Ray then told Carl where to go in no uncertain terms. As Noah walked away, he heard Carl say to one of his co-workers, “Did you get that on camera?”
Noah gritted his teeth. It was all a game to that weasel.
“Hold up, Noah,” Ray said, trying to keep up with him.
“I’m fine, Ray. He crossed the line with Lena.”
“Okay. Whatever. I don’t care about that. It’s Kyle Branson.” He took hold of his arm and shoved him into the nearest room. Porter closed the door behind them to keep out prying eyes and ears. Ray took out a tablet and lifted it to show him a video. “I was just given this. Our tech guy went back through some footage, checking if anyone had been scoping out Adam Johnson’s premises in the days and weeks leading up to the fire. Figured I might get lucky. There was nothing. However, when we collected CCTV footage from outside Hannah’s apartment, it caught this.” He tapped the screen. It replayed, showing a Ford 150 arriving.
“What am I looking at here?”
“That’s Branson.”
“And? He visited her. Callie did say they were finalizing the divorce.”
Ray touched the screen and slid it back a few more times. “And again. And again. And again. Have you ever seen someonein the middle of a divorce, visiting their ex three times a week and staying overnight?”
“You think she was…”
“Yep. Riding two horses. Giddy up. But if that doesn’t pique your interest. Look at his truck.” Ray widened it with his fingers to give him a closer look at the graphic on the side of the door. The logo was hard to see from a distance, but close up, Noah could just make out HARDING FIRE PROTECTION SYSTEMS.
“They inspect, test, and maintain fire services.”
“But no strangers were seen entering the community.”
“Yes, that wasn’t allowed in. Multiple services have left Adam’s home over the past few months, including Harding’s.” He took out a scrap of paper with Kyle Branson’s address.
Ten minutes later,they were on their way to North Elba, a small town in Adirondack County, seven miles south of High Peaks. Porter piped up as the Bronco wound its way through the dense forest of the High Peaks Wilderness.
“What was the deal with that reporter back there?” Porter asked.
“None of your business.”
