Page 86 of The Smart Killer
“Mia, I want you to know,” Noah began.
She sighed softly, anticipating what he might say. “I know I shouldn’t have gone in,” she offered, acknowledging the unspoken worry that had been a part of their recent interactions.
Noah shook his head gently. “That’s not what I was going to say. I want you to know I’m proud of you. You’re growing up fast. Any concerns I have are just because I’m your dad, and I don’t want any harm to come to you. I worry,” he admitted, his vulnerability laid bare.
Mia nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that held them together. “I know,” she said, her voice a soothing balm as she smiled back.
Leaning down, Noah pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he whispered.
As he exited the room, the door closed with a soft click. The hallway returned to darkness, and Noah headed into his room. Alicia was peacefully asleep. The room was bathed in a tranquil ambiance from a nightlight.
Noah slipped into bed beside Alicia, fully clothed and ready for any call that might disrupt his sleep, if he got any at all. The mattress yielded to his weight, the shared warmth providing a momentary respite.
Alicia stirred, her eyes opening to find Noah beside her. “Hey,” she whispered, her voice a soothing murmur. “Everything okay?”
Her concern was palpable, and Noah, feeling the weight of fatigue, exhaled softly. “Tired.”
Alicia reached for his arm and wrapped it around her to shield him from the world outside. “He’ll make it, Noah. You’ll see,” she assured, her words a gentle promise.
31
It was the break they wanted. They now held the key to it all. The Adirondack Sheriff’s Office buzzed with an undercurrent of anticipation as Noah burst through the entrance the following day. He’d received the phone call a little after eight thirty.
The atmosphere crackled with urgency, the energy palpable in every corner of the bustling office. Phones rang, keyboards clicked, and the distant hum of conversation filled the air as officers moved with purpose.
Maisie Callaway, the lady at the reception desk, acknowledged Noah with a nod as she buzzed him in. “Who’s in with him?” Noah asked, determination propelling him forward.
“No one yet,” Maisie replied, her voice carrying the weight of the unfolding situation. Noah nodded and entered the viewing room that afforded a clear shot of the interview room through a one-way mirror.
Inside, State Police Investigator Porter and Detective McKenzie were engaged in conversation with Sheriff Avery Rivera. Noah approached them, his gaze fixed on Landon Emmett.
“Noah.”
“Sheriff. Where did they find him?” Noah inquired, his focus unwavering.
Rivera turned to face him. “They didn’t. He walked in here and gave himself up,” she revealed, the revelation hanging in the air like a charged current.
Noah stared through the one-way mirror, trying to fathom the unexpected turn of events. “Here? But hold on, he was in Plattsburgh, over an hour away. Why come here?” The question lingered in the room, an enigma wrapped in uncertainty.
“I couldn’t tell you,” Rivera admitted.
Determined to unravel the mystery, Noah turned decisively. “Then let’s find out.” He moved to the interrogation room, but McKenzie stood resolute, blocking the doorway.
“Not this time. He’s asked for a lawyer,” McKenzie stated, his tone underscoring the situation.
Noah’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “He’s lawyered up?” The realization hung in the air, a barrier between them and the answers they sought. All three nodded in confirmation.
“Yes. So that’s where it ends until we hear from the lawyer,” Rivera declared, a note of frustration in her voice. Noah clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Emmett.
Noah ran a hand over his jaw. “His lawyer is not even here.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Rivera pointed at him. “Don’t you go pulling any of that cowboy shit! The lawyer is supposed to be here soon.” With that said, Rivera exited the room, leaving the three of them alone to observe the scum through the window. It was the first time he had gotten a good look at him since their brief exchange in the apartments. His bearded visage bore the rugged marks of a man who had spent time in the wilderness, the facial hair framing his face in a wild, untamed manner. He was dressed still in the black T-shirt that clung to his torso, and Noah noticed scratch marks down his arms. Were theyfrom the branches and foliage as he tried to escape through the forest? His jeans, stained and worn, hugged his legs. Despite the weariness in his appearance, there was a glint of defiance in his eyes as if he was untouchable.
“What do you think his angle is?” Porter said.
“I doubt we will know,” McKenzie replied. “Once the lawyer gets his hooks in him, we will kiss goodbye to any chance of questioning him, and he will be shuffled off into the court system.”
“He’s not done,” Noah said, meeting Landon’s gaze as he turned his head, almost as if he knew he was being watched.
