"Any noise? A bang, a pop, anything unusual?"
"My dog barked once around that time. I figured it was a deer in the yard. He does that."
That was all. Two neighbors. Zero useful descriptions. The shot had been suppressed or the distance had swallowed the sound. Either way, Maggie Coleman had been killed in her own home and the night hadn't noticed.
Callie found McKenzie at the edge of the yard. He was standing with his hands on his hips, looking across the field toward the ridge.
"No witnesses. No brass. No trace."
Callie stood beside him. The morning sun had burned off the mist and the ridge was fully visible now, just trees and rock and silence. She tried to picture it. Someone up there in the dark, prone on the rock shelf, eye pressed to a scope, watching an old woman type at her desk through a lit window. Waiting for the moment between breaths.
"Whoever did this came prepared," she said.
McKenzie watched the empty tree line. "You think he's done?"
Callie grimaced. “I hope so.”
3
The news hit harder than it should have.
Noah was at his desk, halfway through his second coffee, scrolling through the overnight incident reports. A DUI in Wilmington. A domestic disturbance in Tupper Lake. Nothing that required his attention.
"Noah. My office."
Savannah was standing in her doorway, not smiling. A folder was open on her desk behind her, and on her computer screen, a dispatch summary from the Adirondack County Sheriff's Office flagged urgent.
“There has been an incident," Savannah said. "Maggie Coleman was killed in her home sometime last night. Sheriff's Office has the scene."
Noah set his coffee down. He had known her for years. Lena had worked at the Adirondack Daily Enterprise as an assistant editor before the divorce, and Maggie had been her boss and mentor. Noah had sat across from Maggie at dinner parties, at community events, at Luke's funeral where she had pressed his hand and told him she was sorry with the kind of directnessthat made you believe she meant it more than anyone else in the room.
“Shit,” he said. The word came out quieter than he intended.
"I know," Savannah said. "I'm sorry."
He took a breath. Let it settle. The investigator came back online the way it always did, not replacing the grief but sitting beside it.
“So Callie and McKenzie are already at the scene?"
"They are. And I just got off the phone with Acting Sheriff Rivera. She's requesting BCI involvement." Savannah closed the folder and looked at him.
"What do we know so far?"
"Not much. One shot, high-powered rifle, through her window. No casing recovered. No witnesses. Forensics pulled a bullet fragment from the wall. Preliminary says it's a .30-caliber rifle round, common hunting ammunition."
That wasn't a domestic dispute or a robbery gone wrong. That was someone who knew what they were doing. The professional part of his mind was already running scenarios while the other part was still seeing Maggie's face at Luke's funeral, the firm handshake, the caring eyes behind the reading glasses.
"Any leads?”
"Not yet. Rivera wants a task force. Multi-jurisdictional. Adirondack County Sheriff's Office, High Peaks PD, and State."
“So she thinks there’ll be more?”
“It seems so. Initial briefing will be at eleven at Ray's station. He offered the space."
Noah nodded. He hadn't been inside the High Peaks Police Department since Ray took over as chief. His brother behind that desk was going to feel different from the last time he walked those halls.
"I'll be there," he said, turning to leave.
