Page 36 of Fatal Fame
"You can, I’m not," Pierce said, already reaching for his jacket. "I’m also not holding out hope of Mia getting the case file. I’m going to speak to Michael Torres tonight and get some answers, whether he wants to cooperate or not."
“And how do you plan on doing that, he won’t take our calls.”
“He’s a realtor. They always want to sell a home. We just need to attack this from another angle. Maybe I’ll have one of you pretend to be someone interested in seeing one of those cabins he is selling. That way we have a place, a time. He shows up and then I show up.”
“Ah, man, no, he won’t like that,” Marcus said. “He’ll call the cops.”
“Or he’ll answer questions. Think about it. He doesn’t want to talk to us but if he does, we are out of his hair. He just needs to be convinced that it’s in his best interest.”
"Pierce, maybe we should think about this," Sienna said.
"What’s there to think about? This is no different than any of the other cases we have delved into." Pierce checked his recording equipment, making sure he was prepared to document whatever confrontation lay ahead. "Someone just told threatened me again. You know what that tells me?"
"That we should leave town?" Theo suggested hopefully.
"That we are getting close."
“Okay, well, look, before we try your idea, let me try him again,” Camila said.
Pierce nodded. “Let me know if you connect with him.”
“Where are you going?” Sienna asked.
“To get some air, have a cigarette.” As Pierce headed for the door, his team exchanged worried glances. Their leader's confidence in the face of direct threats was either inspiring or reckless, depending on perspective. But they'd followed him this far into the investigation, and none of them was ready to abandon the story when they might be on the verge of a breakthrough.
12
Aharsh electronic ring cut through the darkness of his bedroom like an alarm announcing disaster. Noah fumbled, his hand found his phone with the automatic response of someone who'd learned that bad news didn't keep normal hours.
"Sutherland."
"Noah, it's Savannah. We've got a situation up at a remote cabin in the north end of town. They need BCI out there immediately."
“Is there a body?”
“Not that we know.”
“Then why am I being asked to go?”
She hesitated. Noah was already reaching for his clothes, the adrenaline of emergency response flooding his system.
“A white rental van is on fire, looks like the one that podcast team has been driving around town. License plate matches the registration for Landry. Also, there is a big GO HOME sprayed on the side panel."
“Shit.” He'd been expecting something like this ever since Keith Dwyer's death.
"And you said there is no sign of the occupants?"
"Doesn’t appear to be. Vehicle's completely burned, but we haven't found any remains. Could be they got out before the fire took hold, could be..." Savannah's voice trailed off, leaving the darker possibilities unspoken.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes. Have county secure the scene and don't let anyone contaminate the evidence."
Noah dressed quickly in the darkness, his mind already shifting into investigative mode despite the personal implications of what he might find. Landry had been reckless, ignoring warnings and pushing into dangerous territory with the kind of arrogant confidence that got journalists killed.
The drive to the cabin took Noah through the heart of High Peaks, past darkened storefronts and sleeping neighborhoods that looked peaceful in the predawn quiet. But beneath that surface tranquility, Noah could sense the tension that had been building for days.
The cabin sat deep in the Adirondack wilderness, accessible only by a narrow dirt road that wound through dense forest for several miles. It was the kind of place that attracted hunters and fishermen looking for isolation, or people who had reasons for wanting to conduct business away from prying eyes. The nearest neighbor was at least half a mile away, which explained why the fire had burned for so long before being discovered.
Now the site attracted a different kind of attention. Police vehicles and fire trucks surrounded the smoldering remains of what had once been Landry's rental van, their emergency lights casting red and blue shadows across the skeletal remains. The smell of burning plastic and gasoline was heavy, mixed with the smell of whatever accelerant had been used to ensure the vehicle's complete destruction.
