Page 9 of Fatal Fame
“Want to tell us why?”
“I’m not interested in it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not… okay?” Ethan said with an edge.
Noah let it slide then continued, "You eating okay at school?"
"Yeah."
One-word answers wrapped in teenage indifference, but Noah could see the pain underneath. The shrink's notes said "adjustment ongoing" since Lena's death, but the clinical language didn't capture the reality of grief wearing eyeliner and a hoodie pulled up like armor against the world.
"And how's your gap year going, Mia?" Hugh asked. "Learning a lot at the paper?"
"It's interesting work," Mia said carefully. "Digitizing old archives, seeing how the town's changed over the years."
Hugh raised an eyebrow. "Callie mentioned you did a ride-along today. Considering the Sheriff's Office after all?"
Noah felt his jaw tighten. He knew Mia had whispered about the FBI, but saying it here would invite one of Hugh's sermons about Sutherlands wearing the county star, following the family line, tradition and duty and all the other words that had driven Noah away from High Peaks in the first place.
"Considering all options," Mia said.
Noah felt a moment of relief that she'd left the F-word unspoken.
Then Mia shifted the conversation in a direction that made everyone's fork pause midway to their mouth. "You were sheriff when the Hale murders happened, right, Grandpa?"
Hugh's smile was slow and knowing, like he'd been waiting for this question. "I barely remember yesterday," he said with a chuckle that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But that case? We all thought we'd have it solved before the month was out. Then before I retired. Now I'd like to see it solved before I leave this mortal coil." The twinkle in his eyes was both genuine and calculated, a line that was also a shield.
"What do you remember?" Mia asked directly.
"Ten years is a long road in bad weather, sweetheart." Hugh didn't answer so much as reminisce about good deputies and thin budgets, about a county that seemed to eat its own. His tone carried the weight of decades in law enforcement, but Noah caught the careful way he avoided specifics. “Why are you asking?”
"A podcaster, Pierce Landry, is looking into it," Mia said, watching her grandfather's face. "You heard of him?”
"Can't say I do."
"He’s the host ofthe Cold Trail podcast."
Hugh's smile shifted, becoming softer as he looked at Mia rather than Noah. "You've got instincts. Like your father. Though maybe a little more open-minded."
Noah felt the familiar irritation rise in his chest, Hugh's tendency to steer conversations through praise and manipulation, his way of encouraging Mia's independence while undermining Noah's authority.
Hugh set down his fork with deliberate care. “What I can tell you, is there were questions nobody asked back then. Maybe someone didn't want them asked."
His words were loaded with implications about politics, about Luther Ashford's reach, about power structures Noah was only beginning to understand. Hugh didn't clarify—he never did—leaving everyone to draw their own conclusions about what he meant and why he'd said it.
However, Noah heard the old fight marching down the hall—Hugh's dogma about the family badge, his tendency to steer family members under the guise of pride and tradition. He noted how Mia leaned toward Hugh when he spoke, how Ethan leaned away from everyone, how the table had become a map of four different paths through the same family legacy.
“What we can be sure about is this…Pierce is liable to stir things up pretty good," Noah said, testing the waters. "He’ll have people talking at town hall meetings, asking uncomfortable questions."
Hugh's eyes stayed friendly but alert, like a cat watching a mouse hole. "Truth's a hard wind. Bolts rattle before beams break."
Another cryptic Hugh-ism, delivered with the kind of knowing smile that suggested he knew more than he was saying. Noah found himself wondering, not for the first time, whether his father was losing his mind or playing a deeper game than anyone realized.
"I might shadow the clerk from Adirondack County Sheriff’s Office tomorrow during lunch," Mia said, her voice bright with barely contained energy. "You know, see how the administrative side works."
Hugh's smile said good girl. Noah's jaw said absolutely not. Ethan's phone screen glowed like a black mirror, reflecting nothing but his own withdrawal from the family conversation.
