Noah thanked him and hung up. He sat in the dark for another hour before going in.
He didn't sleep.
By morning, the campground was national news.
The BCI officeat Ray Brook was quiet when Noah arrived at eight-thirty. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that happens when people know something before you do and are waiting to see how you handle it.
Declan Porter was at his desk. He looked up when Noah walked in and then looked away. It was as if he had read the room and decided the safest move was to keep his head down.
Felix, one of the Troop B investigators who had been seconded to the task force, was standing at the coffee machine. He gave Noah a nod that carried the weight of condolence without saying anything.
Savannah's door was open.
Noah walked toward it. Through the glass partition he could see her at her desk, hands folded, staring at something in front of her. He stepped in. She didn't look up immediately. When she did, her face told him everything he needed to know.
A newspaper was on her desk. Not the Adirondack Daily Enterprise. The New York Times. A physical copy, folded to the front of the Metro section. The headline read:
ADIRONDACK SNIPER INVESTIGATION UNDER SCRUTINY AFTER CAMPGROUND SHOOTING LEAVES TWO DEAD
The subheading was worse:
BCI investigator's family ties to cold case raise questions of judgment and conflict of interest
Noah picked it up. He read standing. The article was long and detailed. It described the sniper investigation in broad strokes before narrowing onto the Meadowbrook incident. One civilian dead, unarmed at the time of the shooting. A second civilian wounded. A deputy killed by crossfire. A witness connected to the original Hale case, shot and hospitalized. The operation was described as unplanned, underresourced, and led by an investigator whose personal connections to the Hale murders had not been disclosed to the task force.
The sourcing was anonymous but specific. "Sources within the task force" have expressed concern about objectivity. There were references to Noah's mental health leave from three months ago, framed not as what it was, time taken to support Ethan through a crisis, but as evidence of instability. There was a paragraph about the Sutherland family's long tenure inAdirondack County law enforcement and "unresolved questions about evidence handling”.
Hell, it barely stopped short of naming Hugh. It didn't have to. The implication was a scalpel, not a hammer.
Noah set the paper down.
"Sit," Savannah said.
He sat.
"Pruitt's dead."
"I know. Harmon called me."
Savannah nodded slowly. She looked at the newspaper and then at him.
"Noah, I have to ask you something and I need you to answer me straight. Did you have personal knowledge of a connection between the Hale case and the sniper victims before the task force identified it?"
"I brought the overlap list to the table."
"That's not what I'm asking. Was there anything you didn't put on the table? Perhaps a conversation with Kline?"
His stomach sank.
"I had concerns," he said. "I was pursuing them through proper channels."
"That's not a yes or a no."
"It's what I've got."
Savannah closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, the look on her face was not anger. It was exhaustion. The exhaustion of a person who has been defending someone for weeks and had just run out of ground.
"I got a call this morning. Seven-fifteen. Before I even got to the office." She paused. "The decision has been made."
