Page 88 of Fatal Fame
"No," Noah said, beginning to pace the small seating area with deliberate slowness. "No, though there was a good chance they might have gotten away with it if it wasn't for a few overlooked aspects. You see, pinning them down was kind of tricky as they did a good job of covering their tracks, creating a distraction"—he glanced meaningfully at Marcus—"andensuring that we didn't look too deep. But they overlooked a few things."
"Like what?" Sienna asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Noah thought about his conversation with Ethan for a moment, remembering his son's explanation of voice synthesis technology, before switching gears to focus on the case at hand.
"The unpredictability of their target. You see, a lot hinged on the drops of blood that were found at the scene. As you know, forensics was able to rule out Marcus because it didn't match. Then we have the cigarettes. Of course, anyone could plant those. Again, no DNA matched Marcus. Though with all the mistakes made in investigations, it would have been easy to overlook those details when you have two glaring issues."
He paused, letting the tension build as he studied each face in turn.
"One being a lack of alibi due to cameras not working, and the other being a male who called Mike Torres under the name Marcus. Mike Torres heard his voice and said it was him, even though he hadn't seen him. Now, of course, in looking into the cameras here at the hotel, we discovered that due to renovations, they were on the blink. Which certainly made it harder to know whether or not someone entered or exited this hotel around the time of the murders."
McKenzie positioned himself near the lobby entrance, his bulk and authority ensuring that no one would be leaving without permission.
"Now we were able to establish that Marcus couldn't have been at the crime scene because, using the videos from the church across the street, we saw him leave via his window and enter your room, Sienna." Noah gestured toward the couple, whose relationship had provided Marcus with an alibi and exposed the real killer's plan. "Your two rooms"—he looked at Theo and Camila—"were on the other side, beyond the reach ofthe church cameras, and there are no other buildings that gave us a clear shot of the back of the hotel, which butts up against the pine forest."
Camila's composure remained intact, but Noah caught a slight tightening around her eyes, the kind of micro-expression that experienced investigators learned to read like text on a page.
"Now, if I was a guessing man, and it was one of the team involved, it would make sense that they would pick a hotel that is doing renovations. A hotel whose cameras aren't working." Noah's gaze settled on Camila with laser focus. "But that's not all. The person responsible made three errors."
He reached into his jacket and withdrew the convenience store receipt, holding it up like a piece of damning evidence.
"One: they bought a burner phone from a local convenience store that does have cameras, which gave us a receipt paid for in cash. Of course, you would need a local phone if you wanted to make it look local." The receipt crinkled slightly in his grip. "Timestamped at 3:03 PM, three days ago."
The hotel lobby seemed to grow smaller as Noah continued his destruction of Camila's alibi.
"Then there's the use of AI technology and an app to change the voice of the person making the call." By this point, each of the team members was looking at Camila because Noah was narrowing his gaze directly at her. "Getting Marcus' voice would have been so easy, as he literally handed it to you on a platter every time he would do a podcast with Pierce."
"But then there's the blood found at the site," Noah continued with the satisfaction of an investigator who'd solved a complex puzzle. "Who knew Pierce would fight back, hey, Camila? I think if we were to strip-search you right now, we would probably find a nasty gash, a gash that you've treated while here. I'm sure we'll find rags in your garbage or in thedumpster behind the hotel, and an AI cloning app recently deleted from the burner phone's history to show you used it."
Marcus turned to stare at Camila, his face cycling through disbelief, anger, and betrayal in rapid succession. "Is it true?"
Camila opened her mouth to speak, but before any words could emerge, Marcus launched himself at her with the fury of someone who'd realized they'd been manipulated and nearly framed for murder.
McKenzie was quick to intercept, grabbing Marcus around the chest and pulling him back.
"Ay, laddie, cool your pants," McKenzie said in his thick Scottish accent. "She'll get her day in court."
"Bitch!" Marcus shouted, struggling against McKenzie's restraining grip. "Why would you do that? I trusted you! We all trusted you!"
Camila remained silent, her composure finally cracking to reveal the calculating mind beneath. There was no way she was going to incriminate herself until she spoke to a lawyer, though they all knew it wouldn't help much given the evidence mounting against her.
Sienna began crying quietly, the reality of Pierce's murder and the betrayal by someone they'd considered family hitting her with devastating force. Theo stood frozen, his equipment bag forgotten as he processed the fact that he'd been working alongside a killer for months.
Noah reached for his handcuffs, the metal clicking as he prepared to make the arrest that would close the Landry murder case.
"Camila Ortiz, you are under arrest for the murder of Pierce Landry. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will beprovided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?"
Camila said nothing, her eyes fixed on some point beyond the hotel lobby, beyond the immediate reality of her arrest, perhaps calculating whether her carefully constructed plan could still somehow salvage her freedom.
The handcuffs closed around her wrists with finality, the sound echoing through the lobby like the closing of a book. Around them, the hotel continued its evening routine—guests checking in, elevators dinging, the mundane business of hospitality continuing despite the drama unfolding in their midst.
McKenzie radioed for a transport vehicle while Noah led Camila toward the exit, her silence more damning than any confession could have been. Behind them, the surviving members of the Cold Trail team sat in stunned silence, their ambitious podcast project ended not by lack of material, but by the discovery that they'd been harboring a killer among their ranks.
The investigation that had begun with Landry's arrival in High Peaks to solve a decade-old murder had ended with the exposure of a conspiracy of jealousy, manipulation, and calculated revenge. Justice had been served, but the cost had been measured in lives lost and trust shattered beyond repair.
As they walked through the hotel's automatic doors into the cool night air, Noah reflected on the case's strange symmetry—a podcaster who'd come to town seeking the truth about one murder had become the victim of another, his killer someone he'd trusted implicitly.
The investigation was finally over, but the reverberations would be felt for years to come.
