Page 51 of The Smart Killer
Ray’s lips curved into a knowing smile as they drove through the town, passing by storefronts with glowing signs and glimpses of the dense woods beyond. “Well,” he began, his voice low and conspiratorial, “we’ve been getting reports of a drug distribution ring operating out of Big G’s.”
Mia’s eyes widened with intrigue. “Inside the bowling alley? How does that even happen?”
Ray nodded; his gaze focused on the road ahead. “That’s what we’re trying to find out. The challenge is, if we charge in there, not only might we not get answers, but we might blow the whole operation. Which brings me to your part in this, Mia. We need a teen who can go in, ask questions, and see what can be found without raising suspicion.”
Mia’s skepticism was evident in her expression. “You want me to go undercover inside a potentially dangerous situation?” She laughed. “Dad would kill me if he found out. There is no way he would let me do that. You can’t be serious?”
Ray glanced at her with a deadpan expression.
“You are serious.”
“Your dad doesn’t have to know, Mia. Think of it as your baptism by fire, a chance to learn the family trade firsthand. No academy will teach you this. You either have it or you don’t. Besides, I believe in you. You’re like your father: smart, observant, and resourceful. And remember, I’m not sending you in alone. I’ll be right there watching out for you. The first sign of problems, I’ll be there.”
“Will I be wired?”
“Ah, not exactly.”
A mix of excitement and nervousness flickered in Mia’s eyes as she considered the challenge. Ray knew Mia wouldn’t be the only one killed by Noah if he found out about this, especially after Ethan, but he was confident. It wasn’t like she was going into a crack house. “Again, you only have to do it if you want to. I’m not going to pressure you. I mean, look at it like this. You’re just waltzing into the bowling alley like all the other teens. It won’t look out of place.”
“But they’ll see me get out of the cruiser.”
“No, they won’t. I’ll park a few blocks down from the bowling alley.”
She sat there for a moment, contemplating it. “Okay. All right,” she said, her voice determined. “I’ll do it.”
Ray pulled the cruiser to a stop a few blocks away from Big G’s; the neon lights of the bowling alley cast a vibrant glow that cut into the night. He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Go in, buy yourself some food and drink, play a couple of the arcade games, eavesdrop; you’re not there to ask questions. If anyone approaches you and asks if you’re interested in buying, ask them what they have.”
“And if they want to show me?”
“Just say that you used up what money you had, but you can return with some more. Just play it cool.”
Mia got out of the cruiser.
“Mia. Remember. You are just there to have fun. An hour, tops, then come on out with or without information.”
She nodded, closed the door, crossed the road, and went down to the bowling alley.
As Mia walked awayfrom the cruiser, her heart raced with anticipation. The night held the promise of secrets to uncover and dangers to face, a daunting yet exhilarating prospect. That was what she admired about her uncle. Unlike her father, Ray didn’t treat her like a child. Sure, she was seventeen, but in some countries, most her age were working full-time jobs, even living independently. With an inhale, she squared her shoulders, ready to step into the unknown, determined to prove herself.
16
Morning light seeped through the narrow gaps in the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room in Saranac Lake Medical Center. Noah was trapped in the clutches of a nightmare, his subconscious haunted by visions of his son Ethan slipping away. The room seemed to close around him, suffocating him with the weight of his fears.
In the dream, he saw Ethan, frail, disappearing into the shadows. Desperation clawed at Noah’s throat; his cries were drowned out by the darkness. Just as he reached out to save his son, a bone-chilling howl echoed through the nightmare, jerking him awake.
He gasped for air, disoriented and trembling. Before he could fully comprehend the nightmare’s grip on him, a deep, Scottish-accented voice shattered the remnants of his dream. “Aye, I know you’re known for sleeping on the job, but this is takin’ it to the extreme, laddie.”
Noah jolted upright, his heart pounding, his eyes wide. Detective Angus McKenzie, a burly man with a bald head and a ginger goatee, stood before him, his concerned gaze searchingNoah’s face. “McKenzie?” Noah croaked, his voice thick with drowsiness.
McKenzie’s hand steadied him, his grip firm yet reassuring. “I know, you don’t have to say it; I’m the angel from your dreams.”
“Actually,” Noah retorted, his sarcasm laced with weariness, “I was thinking you were a demon from my nightmare.”
McKenzie’s grin widened, undeterred. “Do demons bring you hot coffee and a sandwich for breakfast?” He extended a paper cup and a wrapped sandwich toward Noah. The aroma of freshly brewed beans was tantalizing.
Noah’s gratitude shone through his exhaustion as he accepted the offerings. “Thanks,” he murmured before taking a sip of the brew. Its warmth seeped into his bones, providing a measure of comfort. McKenzie shifted from one foot to the next, his gaze directed at the bed where Ethan lay, his expression sobering. Ethan was still and pale but undeniably alive. The rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor and the soft hiss of the ventilator punctuated the room, reminding him of his son’s fragile state.
“How is he?” he asked, his voice carrying genuine concern.
