Page 32 of In Cold Blood
“I should stretch.”
“You’ll do enough of that out there. Chop, chop,” Ed said, jogging on the spot.
As they burst into a jog weaving through the forest, the sun rose high in a blue sky offering another good day of weather. Noah asked, “So how many times a week do you do this?”
“Every day.”
“Every day?”
Ed glanced at him. “Gotta be intentional, Noah. You let a day slide, and the next it will be two days, then three, and before long you’ll be an overweight bum staring at one of those techno devices of yours and making excuses,” he said, noting Noah checking his emails. It had become a habit. Far too often he reached for it. “Put it away. Permit yourself time to think. Instead of letting that do it for you. It will be there when you get back. C’mon now. Breathe in this glorious crisp air,” he said, taking a deep breath, turning toward him but now running back the way they came. Then, Ed twisted, going back the way they were heading. This time he burst into a sprint.
“Seriously?” Noah muttered. That only riled Axel up all the more, he let out a bark, and with the encouragement of his harebrained neighbor, Noah was guided up a dirt path that cut through the Adirondacks.
“Alicia was saying she drops off goods for you. For someone in your shape, I would imagine you could make runs into town yourself.”
“I could. I avoid it.”
For the next thirty minutes, they looped around a well-worn path inside the McKenzie Mountain Wilderness. Ed told him that the path didn’t exist before, and he’d had to create it. And that this was what life was about. Creating a new path, going in a direction that others hadn’t and not settling for the path of least resistance but the one that would challenge and change him. He was like a modern-day yogi but wearing Nikes.
“I’ll remember that,” Noah said with his hands on his knees, panting hard. “Hey, uh, Ed. I was meaning to ask you,” he continued. He’d had questions, lots of them, but was unable to keep up with Ed, a man that was thirty years his senior. “Last night. All that talk about drugs over on the island. Did Luke say who he thought was behind it? Did he drop any names?”
Ed was stretching out his calves, pressing against a tree trunk while extending one leg behind him, while the other was bent in front of him. He then pulled up his foot behind him to stretch his thigh. “The Graysons. Some law firm. You heard of it?”
“More than you know,” Noah replied.
“He believed they were covering up drugs coming in and out of here. That the whole system in the county is corrupt. Which is why I don’t think your brother’s murder will get solved. Too many people benefit from their names being kept out of his lips.”
“Any others?”
“Not that he told me.”
“Dax Jameson?”
“Never heard of him. No, your brother was very careful. And rightly so. People might be tight-lipped in the community but that’s only because of what’s happened to some folks who said too much. Now my solution is to lead a quiet life. I don’t mingle, or go into town much. I certainly don’t go troubling anyone. It’s easier that way. Out of sight. Out of mind. I keep to myself.”
It seemed contrary to him showing up last night.
Noah chugged on a bottle of water and sat on one of the porch steps behind the cabin. Nearby, Axel was rehydrating, lapping from a steel bowl.
A few hours later,after showering and having breakfast, Noah made a quick phone call to Ray. He figured if Luke would have confided in anyone, it might have been his big brother. Two years older than them, a cop already, Ray had paved the way. He was the first to don a police uniform, the first to deal with their father’s bull crap. He’d set the tone for the rest of them by joining the local PD. It was a deviation from the norm and the first crack in the Sutherland tradition. He hadn’t gotten to speak to him yesterday as much as he wanted to, with all that had happened.
Ray had been married once, divorced, and since then had entertained a string of women with no intention of getting hitched. Noah held up a phone to his ear as he stirred his coffee and watched Axel chew on a rawhide.
“Little brother. What’s up?” Ray said.
Noah heard a police radio crackling in the background.
“You working today?”
“When am I not?”
“But the funeral was yesterday, Ray.”
He snorted. “You think I should have my head buried in a pillow at home for the next month?” He paused for a second and then continued. “There are bills to pay. People to nab. This is how I cope, brother. Staying busy. Keeping my eyes and ears open for someone who might know something.”
Axel began barking loudly and rushed toward the back door.
“Did you go to Kerri’s?” Ray asked.
