Page 56 of Twice Missing
Carl took a deep breath, his next words dripping with disdain. "Wow! What I wouldn't have given to see the day when the papers cover the story of his fall, your fall. This town will never be the same again. And the Sutherland name..." He laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "Whatever legacy you want to leave behind. That will be gone. Destroyed. Your family will be a laughingstock."
A flicker of something — regret, perhaps — crossed Carl's face. "I can't say I won't find that amusing, you know, with my run-ins with your son. But in some way, I kind of pity him. I pity that he had to grow up in your shadow, with the weight of that legacy on his shoulders when in reality, you are not a good man, Hugh Sutherland."
Hugh's shoulders sagged, the weight of Carl's wordspressing down on him. He moved towards the fridge, his voice weary. "Can I get you a beer?"
"Bribing me won't get you anywhere," Carl scoffed.
Hugh pulled out a beer, his movements deliberate. "Well, it is money you want, isn't it? I mean, that's why you're here," he said, setting the open bottle on the granite counter. "Otherwise, you would have already gone to the police. But you haven't, so I have to ask myself, why not? The only sensible reason is you need money. So how much?" Hugh reached for a drawer.
"Careful," Carl snapped, his grip tightening on the taser.
"It's just a checkbook," Hugh said, his voice placating.
Carl edged closer, peering into the drawer. It was indeed empty save for a few flyers and a real estate booklet. Hugh placed the checkbook on the counter and took out a pen. "How's $10,000 sound?"
Carl's laugh was derisive. "$10,000? You think that's all your freedom is worth?"
"Fifty then," Hugh countered.
"This home must have cost a lot of money, that car you're driving is easily over a hundred thousand dollars. I figure with all the money Luther is paying you to keep your mouth shut, you can go higher than that."
Hugh's glare was icy. "Actually, this house is owned by Luther, so is that car."
"You still get to use them, and I imagine the money you got from being a sheriff was good. So how about you throw a few more zeros on that figure, and maybe then I'll have that beer."
"Sure," Hugh agreed, his tone suspiciously accommodating.
As Hugh bent over the counter, ostensibly to write out a check, his left hand reached beneath the surface, fingers closing around the grip of a silenced Glock 22. The weapon, strategically placed for just such an emergency, felt cool and reassuring in his palm.
"How's that look?" Hugh asked, sliding the check across the granite towards Carl.
For a brief moment, Carl's attention wavered, his eyes drawn to the exorbitant sum on the check. It was all the distraction Hugh needed.
In one fluid motion, Hugh raised the gun and fired twice. The silenced shots were little more than muffled thumps, but their effect was devastating. Carl stumbled backward, shock and pain etched across his face as he collapsed to the floor.
Hugh loomed over him, watching as Carl struggled to speak, blood bubbling at his lips. "I guess you were wrong about the Sutherland legacy," Hugh said, his voice cold and detached. "But here's where yours ends." A final shot, and Carl lay still.
Without missing a beat, Hugh turned and picked up the untouched beer he'd offered Carl. He downed it in one long gulp, as if trying to extinguish an internal fire. The empty bottle clinked against the granite as he set it down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze fell once more on Carl's lifeless form, a fleeting moment of... something — regret? fear? — crossing his face before it hardened once more into a mask of resolve.
Reaching for his phone, Hugh dialed a number he knew by heart. Luther's voice answered, and Hugh's words were clipped and businesslike. "We've got a problem."
22
Morning brought more questions than answers, the crisp winter air doing little to clear Noah's mind as he and McKenzie drove towards the St. Regis Mohawk Reservation. The landscape's canvas of white was broken only by the dark silhouettes of bare trees and the occasional flash of evergreen. Snow-capped mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks disappearing into low-hanging clouds that promised more snowfall.
Every investigation was different, Noah mused, his eyes fixed on the winding road ahead. Some cases kept them on their toes, running from one lead to the next in a frantic dance of discovery. Others felt like trying to extract blood from a stone, each potential witness or clue more elusive than the last. This case, with its web of connections stretching from High Peaks to the reservation, seemed to be a maddening combination of both.
The previous night's events had left Noah with littlesleep, a fact he could feel pulling at him even as he tried to smother it with another swig of coffee from the thermos between them. The bitter liquid did little to dispel the fog of fatigue, but it was a familiar comfort in the face of uncertainty.
They were roughly ten minutes outside the reservation now, the decision to continue investigating despite recent events fueled by a stubborn refusal to bow to threats. Threats came with the territory of policing — some empty, others all too real. Noah's kids knew that better than anyone else, having lost their mother to the dangers that lurked in the shadows of his profession.
"Well, that's where you're wrong," Noah said to McKenzie, who was riding shotgun in the cruiser. The Scottish detective raised an eyebrow, waiting for elaboration. "I told Ray to take them to Gretchen and take them out of state. I figured that would have put some distance between them and any potential danger. There's no way in hell I would have had him take them to our family cabin nearby."
McKenzie nodded, his expression a mix of understanding and concern. "Family. What can you do?" he said with a wry smile. "So, you feel good about continuing?"
Noah's jaw tightened. "Don't have much choice. Besides, I'm not letting some bastard threaten my family and then walk away clean."
"Then what's bothering you?" McKenzie pressed, sensing the underlying tension in his partner's voice.
