Page 33 of The Smart Killer
“You heard of a guy named Zeke? Hangs around the bowling alley. Known to distribute narcotics?”
Oz scratched his head. “Can’t say I have. But I can ask around.”
“Appreciate that.”
“You know I saw your boy the other night. Ethan, correct?”
Noah looked up from what he was doing. “Where?”
“We had this gig at one of the local bars. He wasn’t inside. Don’t worry about that. But I saw him lingering around with other kids his age. Figured they were there to hear the music through the windows. Some of them do that.”
“He see you?”
“Yeah. He came over and was all chipper. Seems as though he’s handling the death of his mother pretty well. Must have been hard on him.”
Noah knew otherwise. He hadn’t seen him smile since the death of Lena, so to him, that was unusual.
“The friends he was with, were they drinking?”
“If they were, I never saw anything. Then again, kids are kids. Hell, I bet you stole some of your liquor from your father’s cabinet when you were a teenager.”
“No.”
“No?”
Noah shook his head. It wasn’t that he was averse to getting a bit tipsy or stepping over the line when he was a teenager; it was just he’d seen the effect that alcohol had on his father. And if there was one thing his father monitored like a hawk, it was his alcohol.
“You ever seen anything like this?” Noah asked.
“Outside, yes. In a house? Only in the winter, but that’s with the elderly. But, I haven’t seen ice inside, especially in the summer months.”
“Take a look at this,” Noah said, showing him the control panel for the air conditioning.”
“Yeah, that would do it. Thirty-two degrees or less can cause death in as little as 15 to 45 minutes. Add to that being soaked to the bone, and you have a recipe for disaster. I will send my report to Addie, but from what I can see, it’s straight-up hypothermia.”
Porter returned with a tray of coffee; forensics wasn’t far behind him. Noah plucked his cup out and took a sip.
“Great job. Just the way I like it.”
Noah passed by him, the thin ice crunching beneath his boots.
Porter whirled around. “Where are we going?”
“To see what kind of connection there is between the victims and learn more about Lakeridge homes and how the technology works.”
10
It was a matter of following the trail of breadcrumbs. Eventually, in every investigation, the connection revealed itself. Zeroing in on who was at fault was the most challenging task. Jump too soon, and the whole case could collapse in on itself.
It required tact and patience.
The summer sun beat down upon the Adirondacks, spreading a warm golden glow over the landscape. Nestled amidst the fading industrial remnants of the town stood a piece of modernity – the headquarters of Lakeridge Homes Inc., the pioneers of smart living in upstate New York.
Noah had considered it before buying his home, but the cost was astronomical, and the privacy questionable at best.
Noah pulled into the parking lot, his eyes widening at the sight before him.
Rows of polished, high-end electric cars lined the front of the building; their silence when in operation was a stark contrast to the distant hum of factories in the old part of town. The company’s office, a futuristic structure made of glass and steel, seemed out of place. It gleamed in the summer sunlight,blending seamlessly with the natural beauty of the Adirondacks while exuding an air of cutting-edge sophistication. The office’s design mimicked their smart homes — sleek lines, energy-efficient glass panels, and living walls of plants that softened the technological edges.
