Page 7 of In Cold Blood
The jolt of the Boeing 747 wheels leaving asphalt should have brought excitement, instead, it brought a deep sense of dread. Thoughts of seeing family again, attending the funeral, and reactions of those who didn’t know or remember that he looked like his brother were at the forefront of his mind.
Noah hadn’t slept on the five-hour flight up to Plattsburgh International Airport. Instead, he’d stared absently out the window, taking in the familiar sight of the heavily forested region.
From high above, six million acres of boreal forest stretched out like an ocean of green. The Adirondack Park was the largest protected area in the entire USA, bigger than Yosemite, Everglades, the Grand Canyon, and Yellowstone National Park combined.
The lush landscape held more secrets than people knew.
It looked different. Overgrown. Wild. Memories rushed back to him of camping with Luke and fishing in some of the many rivers that snaked through the emerald terrain.
As the plane banked hard and headed toward the shore of Lake Champlain, the views of majestic mountains and countless lakes were breathtaking.
Even more so since he hadn’t visited in eight years.
There were good reasons for that. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to be there, but he had created a life for himself further south in the Peekskill region. There he didn’t have to contend with the weight of his family name, its history, or expectations.
“Are you done with that, sir?”
“Sorry?”
“Your empty cup.”
“Right,” he said, handing it off.
Empty best described his emotions that morning. The news of his brother’s death still hadn’t set in. It was almost as if he didn’t want to believe it was true. Statistically, the odds of an officer being killed in the line of duty were high, but in northern upstate New York? In a small ski town like High Peaks? It didn’t make sense. There hadn’t been an officer killed in that county since the early ’80s.
He could have flown into Saranac, to the small Adirondack Regional Airport, it would have shaved off an hour of driving time, but he wanted time to reflect and soak in the scenery. The funeral wasn’t until later that afternoon.
He rented a black Ram 1500 pickup, something sturdy, something that would allow for the off-roads if need be. From there he drove southwest toward High Peaks which was sandwiched between Saranac and Elizabethtown in the heart of Adirondack County.
The town of High Peaks had a population of just over twothousand, even less back in the early nineteenth century when it began attracting people from all over for winter sports. Since then, it had grown in size.
As he snaked through the southwest on NY-86, the arguments with his father after the Marines came back to him. Back then his father was a force to be reckoned with, a man given to outbursts and yet he could be composed the next minute.
Sheriff of Adirondack County, Hugh Sutherland always had this idea in his head of how the family would be and for the most part, he got to see it, that was until Noah was born. A free-thinker, he didn’t want to embrace the exact family tradition, a tradition that had been ingrained for four generations. Like those who joined the military because their father and grandfather had served — Hugh had high hopes that his offspring would follow in his footsteps. And they had in one aspect or another. But the need to controlhowthat played out was what had led to an estranged relationship.
Noah didn’t want to live in his shadow or be in competition with his identical twin and so he’d set his sights on the military, followed by a career with a sheriff’s office outside the county.
Noah clenched the wheel tight and turned up the air conditioning as he weaved through the Adirondack Mountains, thinking about that final night.
Hugh’s words. His decision. The incident that his father still blamed him for, although he hadn’t said it directly.
“I still can’t see why you can’t be a deputy within this county?”
“Because I want to go elsewhere. Eventually, I will join the State Bureau of Investigation.”
“Adirondack County not good enough for you?”
“It’s not like that, Dad.”
“No? Because my father, and his before him were good with it. All of the family have been involved. Now you go changing it, you know how that looks?”
“Oh, here we go again,” Noah said. “The family lineage. Have you ever thought for a minute about what I want?”
“But it’s not just what you want, is it? Your decisions affect your younger sister and your brother. Now with all your talk of heading out, your sister is talking about wanting to be an attorney.”
“And how is that a problem? It’s still law.”
Hugh frowned.
