Page 59 of The Smart Killer
“I thought I was the one hard of hearing. Your father. Last night,” Ed replied, his tone insistent.
Ray’s eyes widened with realization. “Couldn’t have been Hugh, Ed. He was down in the Big Apple at a Broadway production,” he said, his voice steady.
Ed stepped down off his back porch, his arms crossed skeptically. “I might be deaf, but I’m not blind. I’m pretty sure it was him. Big fella. White hair. Had a mechanic’s toolbox in his hand. I saw his boat. The same one he used the other day when he visited. He went over to Alicia’s truck.”
A chill settled over Noah as he processed Ed’s words. Without another moment’s hesitation, he hurried back inside the house and grabbed his phone. He dialed Alicia’s number, his heart pounding in his chest. The call went straight to voicemail, and a sinking feeling gnawed at his gut.
“Alicia. Pick up,” he pleaded, his voice strained with worry.
He left a quick message, urging her to call him back immediately. Closing his eyes briefly, he tried to shake off the foreboding sense of dread that had settled over him. A moment later, his phone rang.
It was Alicia.
“Hey. Sorry, I left my phone in the vehicle. You rang?”
“Yeah, you okay?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Your vehicle running okay?”
“Yes. Noah, you’re worrying me. What is it?’
He updated her on what Ed had told him. It was then that Alicia chuckled.
“Oh, you are getting paranoid. I loaned my toolbox to your father the other night. Some of his stuff is still in storage from the move. I didn’t even realize he’d dropped it off,” she said. Noah heard her get out of her cab. “Oh. Yep. There it is. He must have returned it last night.”
“Well, that’s the thing. He wasn’t here last night.”
“You sure about that? Have you called him?”
Ray was eavesdropping nearby. He mouthed the words “I’ll phone him” and walked away.
Noah exhaled hard.
“Noah. I know our jobs consume our thoughts, but you’ve been acting differently lately. You used to drink once in a while. It seems like every night, you’re knocking one back. I know you’re dealing with Ethan, and I’m not one for telling you what to do, but whatever you’re wrestling with right now, handle it before it handles you.”
After getting off the phone, Ray ambled back. “Dad got in late last night. He didn’t want Alicia to be without the toolbox, so he came over. He apologized for disturbing Ed.”
20
The luxurious home of Stephen Coleman, CEO of Extech, was located in Hope Falls, two hours south of High Peaks. Despite the case being treated as closed, and telling Savannah that he would take a few days off, he couldn’t help but feel that there was more to the purpose of the murders than an act of revenge.
After visiting Saranac Lake Medical Center that morning to check in on his son, Noah received a phone call from Extech saying that Stephen was back from his conference and would like to talk at his residence. So, after lunch, Noah made the two-hour drive.
Although he’d thought that Coleman was dodging him with some story of a conference, he’d managed to verify it by looking online.
Noah marveled at the picturesque scene before him as he approached the farm. The Coleman farm, located on the outskirts of Hope Falls, was a testament to wealth and prosperity. The rolling countryside stretched around him, dotted with lush green fields and framed by the distant silhouette of the Adirondack Mountains.
A striking red barn stood proudly amid the landscape, its weathered exterior contrasting the vibrant life that teemed within. Several other impeccably maintained buildings were scattered across the property, each serving a purpose in the intricate working of the farm. Horses grazed peacefully in the fenced fields, their sleek coats gleaming under the sunlight. Farmhands moved with purpose, tending to their tasks, and the distant lowing of cows added to the harmonious melody of rural life.
Gravel crunched below his tires as he got closer and pulled up to the start of the long driveway leading down to the farmhouse. It was flanked by manicured lawns and blooming flower beds. At the front, a gated entrance barred the way as a symbol of exclusivity. Noah tapped the interface mounted on a pillar, holding his badge to a small camera for verification.
The gates gracefully swung open, granting him access to the opulent world within.
Driving further onto the property, Noah maneuvered his Bronco along the winding driveway, eventually arriving at a circular drive near a sleek black Jaguar F-PACE. The opulence of the surroundings became even more apparent as he surveyed the scene. Three open garages housed other high-end vehicles, two draped in pristine cream-colored covers.
Beyond the cars, the farmhouse itself stood as a beacon of sophistication. Its exterior, a blend of traditional charm and modern luxury, showcased large windows framed by elegant curtains. A sprawling porch with comfortable seating overlooked the scenic meadow, inviting guests to enjoy the views. The property exuded an aura of abundance, indicating that money was no object.
