Page 19 of Fatal Fame
Pierce noted the level of detail—too much specificity could indicate a prepared lie, but it could also indicate someone who'd been asked the same questions multiple times by police investigators. "Did the police interview you about Rebecca's death?"
"Multiple times. Brought me in for questioning twice, asked for a DNA sample, had me take a polygraph test," Keith said. "Passed everything, by the way. Not that it stopped people from looking at me sideways."
"Any idea who might have wanted to hurt Rebecca?"
Keith was quiet for a long moment, his expression shifting between calculation and something that might have been fear. "Rebecca was involved with some people she probably shouldn't have been. Married men, men with reputations to protect. Small town like this, that kind of thing can get complicated fast."
"Anyone specific?"
"I heard rumors, but rumors don't mean much unless you can prove them. And proving things about powerful people in a place like High Peaks can be dangerous for your health."
Pierce felt his pulse quicken. This was the kind of information that could break a case wide open, but it was also the kind of information that could make enemies. "What kind of rumors?"
Keith glanced around the bar, noting who was within earshot and how closely they might be paying attention. The paranoid gesture suggested someone who'd learned to be careful about what he said and where he said it.
"Cop," Keith said quietly. "Local guy, married, kids. Had a thing with Rebecca that was supposed to be secret but wasn't as secret as they thought."
"You know his name?"
"I know his name. Question is whether you're smart enough not to print it without proof." Keith finished his second beer and stood up, tossing a few bills on the bar. "Be careful who you ask questions about, Mr. Landry. Not everyone in this town appreciates outsiders stirring up old business."
"Keith, wait." Pierce stood as well, sensing that the interview was ending before he'd gotten everything he needed. "If you think of anything else, anything that might help figure out what really happened that night?—"
"I'll think about it." Keith was already moving toward the door, his posture revealing someone eager to escape an uncomfortable situation. "But you might want to ask yourself why a case this straightforward has stayed unsolved for ten years. Usually means someone with power wants it that way."
Pierce watched Keith leave, noting the way other patrons tracked his movement without seeming to pay attention. Small-town dynamics were always complicated, but there was something about the atmosphere in Murphy's Tavern that suggested more than casual interest in their conversation.
He finished his beer and left a generous tip, acutely aware that his presence in the bar would be common knowledge within hours. In a community where everyone knew everyone else's business, a stranger asking questions about old murders was the kind of news that traveled fast and drew attention from people who might not appreciate the scrutiny.
As Pierce walked back to his van, he couldn't shake the feeling that Keith Dwyer was hiding something important—not necessarily guilt, but knowledge that could be dangerous for anyone who possessed it. The reference to a cop having an affairwith Rebecca was exactly the kind of lead that could explain why the investigation had stalled, but it was also the kind of accusation that required careful verification before it could be reported.
Pierce made a mental note to research the local officers who would have been active ten years ago, cross-referencing their personal lives with the timeline of Rebecca's death. If Keith was right about Rebecca being involved with a married police officer, that relationship could provide motive for murder and explanation for the subsequent cover-up.
But first, he needed to confirm Keith's story with other sources and determine whether the troubled former student was pointing him toward the truth or deliberately misdirecting the investigation for reasons of his own.
6
Noah's phone buzzed at 6:42 AM, jolting him from the kind of restless sleep that came from staying up too late wrestling with case files and family problems. The caller ID showed dispatch, which meant either an emergency or the kind of routine call that couldn't wait for regular business hours.
"Sutherland."
"Noah, it's Sergeant Anita Emerson from Adirondack County Sheriff’s Office. We've got a body in High Peaks. Possible suicide, carbon monoxide. Local PD is requesting BCI assistance. Savannah would have called but she is handling matters related to her partner’s declining health."
Cora, Noah thought. Savannah hadn’t been herself since Cora’s cancer diagnosis and treatment that had been failing.
Noah was already reaching for his clothes, the automatic response of someone who'd learned that death didn't keep normal hours. "Address?"
"6 Pine Ridge Road. Victim is identified as Keith Dwyer, twenty-eight years old. Found in his garage by a neighbor who noticed his car running all night."
The name was familiar. Keith Dwyer—the same guy that Pierce Landry had been asking questions about, the troubled former student who'd been connected to Rebecca Hale. The timing felt like more than coincidence, and Noah's investigative instincts started sending up warning flags even as he processed the basic information.
"Time of discovery?"
"Approximately 6:15 AM. Neighbor called it in after going outside to get his newspaper. Says the garage door was closed but he could hear the engine running."
"Who's on scene?"
"High Peaks PD secured the scene, coroner’s en route. Detective McKenzie is handling preliminary interviews with neighbors."
