Page 48 of Fatal Fame
Outside the store, Mia sat in her car for several minutes, processing what she'd learned while trying to decide on her next move. Gideon's files painted a picture of corruption that extended far beyond a simple unsolved murder, involving people with the power and resources to eliminate threats systematically.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Evelyn Cross:How did your meeting go? Hope Gideon was helpful.
Before Mia could respond, another message appeared from Facebook. The same user had activated their account again:Saw you visiting friends in Tupper Lake. Don’t you learn? The Hale case is closed. Stay out of it or else!
Mia replied:Who is this? What do you know about the Hale case?
The Facebook account deactivated again.
“Shit!”
The second message made her blood run cold. Someone was tracking her movements, documenting her meetings,and escalating their threats in response to her continued investigation.
17
The Adirondack County Sheriff's Office at 8:30 AM buzzed with the controlled energy of a major investigation in progress. Noah arrived to find the parking lot fuller than usual, with additional vehicles from the State Police and what looked like an unmarked federal sedan that made his stomach tighten. Pierce Landry's disappearance was attracting attention from agencies that typically didn't involve themselves in local missing person cases.
His reputation had already made headlines far beyond High Peaks.
Detective McKenzie met him at the entrance, coffee in hand, with the kind of focused alertness that came from running on adrenaline. "So, about the witness," he said without preamble. "He came down to the station to give his statement after calling in. Says he saw something that night that might be relevant."
In cases like this, witnesses often emerged after the initial shock wore off and people started connecting their random observations to larger patterns of criminal activity.
They walked through the bullpen toward Interview Room Two, past desks covered with case files and evidence bags thatrepresented the complex web of investigations that had grown from Pierce Landry's disappearance.
"Witness is Dale Hutchins," McKenzie continued, consulting his notes. "Retired logger, lives about half a mile from the cabin site. Property backs up to the same forest road that leads to where Pierce's van was found. He's been cooperative, but I get a sense he's also the kind of guy who doesn't trust authority figures on principle."
Noah understood the type. Adirondack old-timers who'd seen too many outside investigations come and go without solving local problems. Building rapport with such witnesses required patience and respect for their independence.
Interview Room Two contained the standard institutional furniture that made every interrogation space feel slightly hostile: a metal table, uncomfortable chairs, fluorescent lighting that made everyone look pale and exhausted. Dale Hutchins sat with the relaxed posture of someone who'd done physical labor his entire life, weathered hands folded on the table and intelligent blue eyes.
"Mr. Hutchins," Noah said, extending his hand. "Thank you for coming in. I understand you saw something the other night that might help our investigation."
Dale's handshake was firm but brief. "Didn't think much of it at the time," he said, his accent carrying the distinctive North Country cadence that marked lifelong residents. "But after witnessing the fire, I figured I should mention it."
“You don’t want a lawyer present?”
“Do I need one?”
“No, but we have to make sure you know one is available.”
Dale chuckled. “Let’s do this.”
Noah activated the recording equipment and settled into his chair, studying Dale's body language for signs of nervousness ordeception. What he saw was the steady confidence of someone telling the truth about what he'd observed.
“Go ahead. What did you see?"
"I was letting my dogs out for their final business somewhere around nine. My property's been in my family for forty years, and I know every sound those woods make at night. I also know my neighbors. You don’t get many coming down that road unless they live here. It’s a dead end. Anyway, I heard a vehicle coming down the forest service road faster than anybody with legitimate business would be driving. I mean it was traveling at a high rate of speed."
Dale paused to accept the coffee McKenzie offered, wrapping his hands around the mug.
"Vehicle had its headlights on, but it was moving with purpose, you know? Not like someone lost or looking for something. More like someone who knew exactly where they were going and wanted to get there quick."
"Heading in the direction of Ralph Eriks’ cabin?”
“That’s right.”
“Could you identify the type of vehicle?"
