Page 72 of The Smart Killer
“It never left. They won’t let you leave the premises with it. You either drink it there, or you drink over at the hive. The house is owned by Gavin. Any cops roll up, they just dump it down thesink or toilet. It’s all in liquid form mixed in with soda. No pills, no powder, no smell, nothing really to trace,” Mia said. “Kind of clever, I guess.”
Noah regarded his daughter through new eyes. She was growing up fast. Ray was right. There was a chance she might want to follow in the Sutherland footsteps and become an officer, and despite his reservations about that from having dealt with his father’s wishes, he couldn’t control her life. Despite the risk, he couldn’t help but admire her resolve.
“Go take a seat in the waiting room,” Noah said.
“But, Dad.”
“Thank you, Mia.”
Mia frowned and glanced at Ray. He indicated with a nod that she should respect her father’s wishes. As she exited, Noah added, “Oh, and don’t go driving off, either.”
With that said, he turned back to his brother.
“Hard to deny, she’s a Sutherland. But I didn’t encourage or suggest for her to go back, Noah.”
Noah nodded, leaning into him. “I want these bastards. For Ethan. For Luke. You and I both know that with what happened tonight, they are going to clean up shop, rid that place of any and all drugs, and that will be the last time they operate there. This is probably our last chance to go up the chain and discover who is behind this. Whoever is supplying Gavin with these narcotics doesn’t mess around. Now I figure you have an open window of an hour if that. Raid it.”
“Raid?”
“Get a no-knock warrant.”
“They’ll need probable cause.”
“You have it. The video from the other night. There is probable cause to believe that evidence might be destroyed. You are going to preserve it. That’s all you need.”
Ray stared back at him. “They’ll want to know why Mia was involved.”
Noah looked off toward the door. “Like you said.Every kid with a cell phone has a camera. Your honor, did you know Ray-Bans sell Smart Glasses with cameras? Anyone can record. It’s vlogging. It’s the new norm.”
Ray grinned. “Son of a bitch. You know, Noah. Despite what you think. I’m glad you came back to town, brother. You coming or staying?”
“Staying with Ethan. It’s your jurisdiction. Go clean it up.”
“Hell yeah,” he said, patting Noah on the shoulder before he hightailed it out of there, almost bumping into Hugh on the way out. “Whoa, Pops.”
“Where is he going in such a hurry?”
As Noah walked past his father, he replied sarcastically, “To check his vehicle for a tracker.”
24
The Sutherland name was known to carry weight in the Adirondacks, but the video secured the nod. Judge Louis Matheson didn’t need much convincing. With a few clicks online, High Peaks police officers had the go-ahead to force their way into Big G’s bowling alley without knocking. Within 30 minutes, a SWAT team of highly trained officers was formed for the raid.
The night air was tense as Ray, clad in the SWAT team gear of the High Peaks Police Department, joined the seasoned officers in front of Big G’s bowling alley. He could feel the collective adrenaline pulsating through the team, their eyes focused and their movements deliberate.
Ray stole a glance at his comrades in the back of the truck, faces obscured by tactical masks and helmets, their silhouettes defined by the dim glow of streetlights shining into the truck.
The SWAT vehicle rolled to a stop, its engine grumbling into silence. As the team disembarked, a disconcerting quiet enveloped the area. The usual bustling energy of the bowling alley’s parking lot was replaced by an eerie silence, broken only by the distant hum of the city.
The neon lights that usually adorned the facade of Big G’s were absent, casting the building into darkness. There were no raucous teens milling about, no sounds of laughter echoing through the night. The only signs of life were the dim lights flickering from within.
Ray’s senses heightened as they approached the entrance. Two vehicles sat solitary in the vacant lot, their emptiness echoing the void in Ray’s gut. The team advanced cautiously, M4s raised and ready. The air thickened with anticipation; the only sounds were the distant whispers of the wind and rustling of leaves.
The battering ram crashed into the doors with a swift, calculated motion. The metallic boom reverberated through the quiet night as the SWAT team surged into the building, a symphony of footsteps and clinking gear. The neon-lit interior revealed itself as the team fanned out, weapons poised.
“Clear!” echoed through the cavernous space, room after room, a chorus of confirmation in the face of uncertainty.
Ray followed the team, his breath syncopated with the rhythm of their movements. A hushed voice cut through the air as he approached the back office. “Ray, over here.”
