Page 16 of In Cold Blood
She got this confused look on her face. “Kerri didn’t offer Luke’s cabin?”
“Luke bought a cabin?”
Alicia looked off toward Kerri and the kids, then back at him. “He never did tell her.” Noah got a sense that she knew something Kerri didn’t. Alicia reached for the keys to her bike and unhooked one. “It’s empty. On the north side of High Peaks Lake. Red boathouse. It’s a log cabin with a lake frontage. You can’t miss it.” She reeled off the exact address and the road in. “Here,” she said, handing him the key.
He stared at her in confusion. His mouth was open to reply when Alicia looked at her watch. “Look, I need to get going.”
He had questions, many.
“Um, some of us are heading back to Peak 46 for a drink. You want to swing by?” he asked.
“I’d like that but duty calls. Work. I got a short window to attend this. I just wanted to drop by and pay my respects.”
“Right.” Noah nodded. “Well then?—”
“But I’m available this evening,” she said quickly, cutting him off. Alicia reached into her leather jacket and pulled out a marker pen. She took his hand, leaned in, and scribbled her number on the back of it. A smile danced at the corner of her lips. He caught the aroma of her perfume. “That is if you remember.”
He caught the double meaning.
Their final conversation.
How things were left.
Noah watched as she pulled away, his mind buzzing with fond memories and questions about what she knew, why she had a key to a cabin belonging to Luke, and why Luke hadn’t told Kerri. State might not want him involved with the case, but in a town of people he was familiar with, there were many ways to circumvent that restriction, and he’d just come across one.
5
Alcohol. His father’s miracle cure for all forms of grief. To be fair he wasn’t a heavy drinker when he was sheriff. The position he once held in Adirondack County didn’t allow for it. They were held to a higher standard. It was drilled into every cop at the academy.People’s eyes will be on you. It’s not you they see but the uniform and you will not disrespect the badge.
Still, that didn’t stop his father from drinking behind closed doors.
Of course, allowances were made for funerals.
The large group that convened at Peak 46 late that afternoon consisted only of immediate family, close friends, and off-duty police officers.
The spectacular Ridgeway Lodge and resort was set back a mile from the shores of High Peaks Lake, tucked between the town and the ski slopes of Whiteface Mountain and surrounded by picturesque woodland. It looked like a gigantic Christmas tree, with twinkling bright yellow lights shining through a vast array of large windows. Inside, Peak 46 felt welcoming with itsrustic design, antlers for chandeliers, and warm, thick mahogany and cedar. The forest-inspired atmosphere with breathtaking views was something to behold.
After more introductions than he cared for, Noah had retreated to a seat at a copper-topped bar. Glasses clinked, liquid flowed and chatter dominated.
All the seats in the room were filled. Two bartenders moved smoothly from one person to the next, quickly filling orders. The aroma of alcohol and a buffet of food permeated. Several people went up and filled their plates. He came to find out that his brother Ray had organized it. He assumed his father would be more likely to stick around if he got a few drinks in him. He was right. Whereas the atmosphere at the funeral had been somber, here it was different. As liquid courage flowed through people, the tone shifted and Noah overhead some folks recounting jokes Luke had told them. Others swapped stories from their time on the road.
It was to be expected. It was a mechanism of coping.
As hard as he tried, he couldn’t at that moment bring himself to laugh. Noah set his drink down and headed into the washroom. A few minutes after, as he was washing his hands, his father ambled in, bleary-eyed, saying something that sounded like the tail end of a joke.
Noah glanced at him.
“Ah, the prodigal son returns,” he snorted. He unzipped and leaned up against the white urinal. Noah let the off-the-cuff remark slide but Hugh was only getting warmed up. “So, I caught the Cliff Notes of the Alman case.”
“Yeah?”
“What a screw-up that was.” He chuckled. It was just like him to highlight the one case among many that had dragged his name through the muck. It wasn’t how it ended but how it reflected on him.
Three years ago, a twenty-year-old woman was found dead, stuffed into a suitcase. A witness who had seen a man nearby picked Dominick Alman out of a lineup. The testimony of a jailhouse informant, a lack of an alibi, and having his cell pinged in the area at the time, combined with an ex-girlfriend’s confession of assault, was enough to convict him.
While Noah had his doubts and had pushed to hold off, there was little he could do. They wanted the case closed. The DA pushed on regardless of errors made within the justice system. Alman was convicted. Four years. He did four years inside before he got his day in court again. The Innocence Project was able to get him exonerated based on a reexamination of DNA. It came to light that a mistake had been made in the forensic testing performed. The DNA found on the victim wasn’t a match to Alman’s. This led to the police coming under scrutiny for using tactics of coercion to get a guilty plea.
At the time, Noah had done his job but certain aspects of the case were out of his hands. Still, because his name was attached to the arrest as one of the lead investigators, the media ran his face and multiple damning headlines about him and the bureau.
