Page 83 of Twice Missing
Noah started the engine, his mind already racing with possibilities. "One piece of evidence at a time, Mac."
34
No way in hell was Noah going to let Marcus, Oates, or Nathan walk free.
The weight of their crimes pressed down on him, igniting a fierce determination. They needed solid evidence to topple their fragile empire, and Noah had a plan to get it. Instead of doubling down, he played right into their hands and left the reservation, retreating back to High Peaks.
As they drove back, the landscape transformed, winter's grip evident in every direction. Bare trees lined the roadside like stoic sentinels, their branches heavy with snow, set against the steel-gray sky. Fields stretched out on either side, vast expanses of white interrupted only by the occasional fence post or abandoned farm equipment, now mere silhouettes in the frozen scene.
The road ahead unfurled like a ribbon of asphalt, cutting through the snow, its edges blurred by drifts that threatened to spill onto the lanes.
"Yes, detective," Noah said over the phone, his voice carefully modulated as he spoke with Oates. "That's right. Well, I wish you the best, and again, thank you for all your assistance." He ended the call, his finger pressing the disconnect button with perhaps more force than necessary.
McKenzie turned to him, his brow furrowed in confusion. "You know, Sutherland, you confuse the hell out of me. I thought you wanted to keep digging."
Noah loosened his grip on the wheel, his knuckles regaining their color. He took a deep breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "And we will," he assured his partner. "Look, by remaining, it would only cause those involved to keep their guard up. I need them to think that they're in the clear. Let Marcus have his day in court on Monday. I almost guarantee he'll be let go, then it'll be back to business as usual."
"Yeah, and we won't be there," McKenzie pointed out, skepticism evident in his tone.
"We don't need to be," Noah countered. "Our hands are tied on the reservation. The whole purpose of our visit was to find out who was responsible for Emily's death. We have a video now that shows us where the exchange is taking place and potentially her involvement. So we fall back, let everyone believe that the story has been forgotten."
A slow smile spread across McKenzie's face as understanding dawned. "And then nail them."
Noah nodded, a grim determination settling over his features. "Exactly."
"But that will involve watching The Cove around the clock," McKenzie mused, already considering the logistics.
"No," Noah corrected, "it involves keeping tabs on one person — Nathan Carter."
Without missing a beat, Noah placed another call, this time to the Adirondack County Sheriff's Office. "Rishi," he said as soon as the call connected, "what's the update?"
Rishi's voice crackled through the speaker, excitement evident in his tone. "I was about to call you. I'm still waiting on the phone company to provide the ping information, but I have found out who owns The Cove. Get this... the property is in the name of an LLC."
Noah's grip tightened on the steering wheel once more. "Let me guess. Ashford?"
"You got it," Rishi confirmed.
"Son of a bitch," Noah muttered, a mix of satisfaction and anger coloring his words. "We finally got him. Well done, Rishi."
"I'll get back to you as soon as I get the ping information," Rishi promised before ending the call.
As Noah disconnected, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. The pieces were falling into place, and though the path ahead was fraught with danger, he knew they were on the right track. The snow-covered landscape rushing past their windows seemed to mirror the clean slate they now had — a fresh opportunity to bring justice to those who had long evaded it.
"So, what's our next move?" McKenzie asked, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
Noah's jaw set with determination. "We meet with Nathan, slap a tracker on his vehicle. We then monitor Nathan's movements, and wait. When we do, we'll bring down not just Marcus or Nathan, but the entire operation — Ashford included."
35
Nearly two weeks had slipped by in silence, and for a moment, Noah began to doubt whether they would ever find closure in the case. With Christmas just three days away, the tracker on Nathan's vehicle had revealed nothing but his mundane routine: driving to and from work, visiting the grocery store, stopping by Emily’s grave, and occasionally heading to the gym.
The burden of the unreleased video evidence weighed heavily on Noah’s mind.
That afternoon, Noah found himself perched high on a ladder, entangled in a mess of Christmas lights. He had offered to help Ed attach them below the gutters of his home, a decision he was now beginning to regret. Suddenly, his phone jangled in his pocket, nearly causing him to lose his balance.
"Ah, shoot," Noah muttered, fumbling for the phone.
Ed called up from below, "Let it go to voicemail. Then move a little to your right."
