Page 32 of The Smart Killer
“Oh, one last thing,” Noah said. “When you entered, were there any other footprints in the house besides the family’s?”
“None. That’s how we deduced the route they took.”
He walked out, leaving the two of them alone. Noah rose and shone his flashlight around the room. “Just a word of advice,” Noah said, shining the light in Porter’s face. “It helps to not tell officers to fuck off. You never know when you will need their help.”
“Likewise,” he said.
“The whole I’m above your pay grade might have worked where you came from, but here, people get their backs up quickly.”
“He was being an asshole.”
“Everyone is. Get used to it,” Noah muttered, walking over to the panel on the wall. They walked through the home over the next ten minutes, examining everything meticulously.
“Had I known, I would have brought my skates,” a male voice said behind them. Porter turned and shone his flashlight in the direction of the hallway. Noah didn’t even need to look. “Porter, meet Oscar Westborough, otherwise known as Ozzy. One of Adirondack County’s coroners.”
“One? Only, you mean, the other three just claim the title and the paycheck,” he said, slipping and sliding into the kitchen. He stopped in front of Porter and extended a hand. “The pleasure is mine.”
Porter didn’t shake it, so Oz withdrew. “I’m just here to examine and pronounce death. I will be out of your way real soon.”
“No need, we’ve done that for you,” Porter said sternly.
Noah cut him a glance and narrowed his eyes. “Ozzy, this is Declan Porter, my assistant.”
“Assistant?” Porter stammered.
“Sorry, I meant coffee boy,” Noah said. “Which reminds me. I could use one. I think I saw a café on our way in. Be a sport and go grab us a couple. I like mine black. How do you take yours, Oz?”
“Cream, two sugar. Thanks.”
“Do I look like a bitch, Sutherland?”
Noah shone his light into Porter’s face, making him squint.
“I’ll let Officer Headley answer that one. On your way out, tell him he’s good to send in forensics.”
Porter stood there for a second longer before exiting.
“I sense dissension among the ranks,” Oz said, setting his case on the table.
“Oh, you know how some can be, ego before brains.”
Oz snapped on gloves and crouched beside the victims. “I heard about Callie’s sister. That’s a damn shame.” He moved on to the female. “I imagine she’s taking some time off.”
“She is.”
“And Angus?”
“Just biting at the bit to get involved, but for now, this is touching a little too close to home.”
“But not for you?” Oz asked, stopping what he was doing and looking directly at him.
“Hey, uh, Oz. I was going to ask you. You’re part of the music scene in town, right?”
“Yeah. I play bass. You should come out and watch us play sometime. We got some cracking tunes. If headbanging is your thing.”
“So, you must hear from time to time about the kinds of narcotics being distributed.”
He laughed. “I’ve crossed paths with a few dealers; why?”
