Silent Ridge: A gripping crime thriller and mystery (Detective Megan Carpenter Book 3)

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Silent Ridge: A gripping crime thriller and mystery (Detective Megan Carpenter Book 3) Page 19

by Gregg Olsen


  I take a baggy from my pocket and use it to pick up the fingers and turn the baggy inside out to hold them. I put the baggy in my pocket. I unroll the note again.

  Rylee. You know where I am. Tonight. After dark.

  Come alone or I will kill him. Bring a weapon and I will kill him. Tell anyone and he will die. If you don’t come, you’ll never find me. I’ll find you.

  I hear footsteps in the hall and stuff the note in my blazer pocket. Ronnie comes in and gives me a questioning look.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “No one is here and nothing is missing.” It’s not a complete lie. Nothing was taken. Something was left behind. “Let’s go to the Sheriff’s Office. See if you can track down Dan’s phone.”

  Before we leave, I check all the windows. They are locked. While I lock up, I examine the lock and the dead bolt. I don’t see any marks on the locks where a tool scratched it. Someone is good at picking locks.

  On the way to the office I drive by Dan’s again. It’s closed up tight. I didn’t expect to find Dan there. I don’t know Jess’s last name or her cell phone number. It would be useless to call her anyway. She’s as dim as a broken lightbulb.

  “Ronnie, I need you to do something you may not like.” She doesn’t respond and that’s good. “Sheriff will know about the fire at Dan’s cabin, but I don’t want him to know I got a call from Dan’s phone. Or that we checked my place. Understand?”

  “You’re going to need his help.”

  “I want to catch this guy. I don’t want to scare him off.”

  “The phone call you got was him, wasn’t it?”

  I nod.

  “He wants to meet you.”

  I say nothing.

  “He left something in your place, didn’t he? I mean you’ve got some strange tastes, but I don’t think you would put a three-foot-tall bear on top of your desk.”

  Ronnie’s smart. I keep forgetting that. “I want to do this on my own,” I say.

  “Because of your friendship with Monique Delmont.”

  “Yes,” I say, but mostly because I want to skin Michael Rader.

  “I’ll keep quiet about this if you do something for me,” she says.

  I wait. I think I know what she’s going to say and the answer will be no.

  “I want to go with you.”

  “I don’t want you to but okay. You do exactly as I say, though.”

  “I will. We make a good team, Megan. I don’t want you to get hurt knowing I could have done something about it. I couldn’t live with that.”

  You can’t live if he kills you. I don’t plan on taking her, but I appreciate her sentiment. She’s a lot like me. Only not as good a liar.

  Fifty-Eight

  We get back to the office. I don’t automatically look into the trees for a stalker. They’ve made their play. It’s time for me to make mine.

  Ronnie is using her technical genius to try and locate Dan’s phone, or the location it last called from. Sheriff Gray is out of the office. Most likely getting a cake and drinks for the after-swearing-in ceremony.

  I sit at my desk. My mind is on fire. I’m afraid for Dan; I care more for him than I realized. I would give anything for him to not be involved in this. I would trade places with him. I know Rader doesn’t want that. He wants me dead but he wants me to suffer. It wouldn’t hurt so bad if I didn’t care. If I never had a relationship. My friends and family are my Kryptonite. I try to think of someone who is precious to Rader. Someone I can take and hurt and make him suffer. The two people I know he cared about are dead. I killed them.

  Even if I knew of someone he could be manipulated with, I don’t think I’m quite that far down the rabbit hole. But I’m getting there. I have an idea.

  “Ronnie, are you getting anywhere?”

  She looks up and I can see by the look on her face that she has found nothing.

  “I have an idea,” I say. “I know you looked into Michael Rader. Do you think we can find any relatives?” She already knows about Marie Rader being murdered and Alex dropping off the map. Looking for family is something I failed to do.

  “I can try,” she says. “I’ll check the obituaries. There are next of kin on those.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. “Also, can you see if we have fingerprints available on Michael Rader?” I’m pretty sure they would have been turned up by the crime lab when we left the container of rat poison. But it’s worth a try. I want to compare the fingers I have in my pocket to the fingerprints. I don’t know why. I doubt that Michael would cut his own fingers off, but he’s half past crazy and full of anger. I don’t blame him. I only wish I thought of it first. I have no idea who these fingers belong to.

  Ronnie will be sworn in tonight. I can’t be here. I will be at Rader’s motor home. My hands are shaking. Not from fear, but from anticipation. I have to find Dan and free him. I have to find Rader and end him. I know Rader’s had time to set traps. His motor home is in the perfect setting. Secluded. One way in and one way out. If he sees anyone but me, he’ll kill Dan. Of that I have no doubt.

  It’s been unseasonably warm for March but the sun still sets at the same time. It will be dark in an hour. I don’t want to be late. I get up and start for the bathroom, which is down a hall. Ronnie looks, then goes back to staring at her computer. There is an exit in the back of the building just down from the bathroom. I reach the bathroom and open the door. Then shut it loud enough for Ronnie to hear. I creep down the hall and gently open the door. It opens soundlessly.

  I shut the door quietly behind me and make it around the side of the building to my car. Ronnie’s sitting in the passenger seat of the Taurus.

  “Okay. You can come,” I say. “But remember, you will do what I say, when I say.”

  “Where are we going?” Ronnie asks.

  “Don’t ask.”

  I drive to Anderson Lake Road and take it to SR-101. The drive will take an hour and a half at least. I have that long to figure out how I’m going to ditch Ronnie. She doesn’t need to be part of this. I can’t protect her and get the job done.

  We’re outside of Port Angeles.

  “We’re going to the motor home. Is that where he’s going to meet you?”

  It’s dark so I say, “He said there would be a signal. A flashlight on and off in the woods. On your side. You have to duck down. I’m supposed to come alone. If he sees you, he said he’ll kill Dan.”

  Ronnie scrunches down in the seat where she can barely see out. “I won’t let him see me.”

  You’re damn right you won’t because you won’t be with me. Up ahead I see the signs.

  Historic Humes Ranch Cabin

  5 mi.

  And the other:

  ELWHA River Trail

  3 mi.

  I drive a mile or so past these and say, “Hey, did you see that?”

  Ronnie scrunches down further. “No. What?”

  “I saw a light off in the woods. On my side. He thinks he’s being cute.” I slow down and pull onto the shoulder.

  “What do we do?”

  I say, “You can get out of your side. The interior lights don’t work. I pulled the fuse when I got the car.” I did. There’s no sense in giving yourself away with a light coming on at the wrong time. “Stay low and go into the trees. I don’t think he can see you. Stay in the woods unless you hear me call out.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll sit here until you’re in the woods. Then I’ll go across the road and see what’s what.” I take my gun out of the holster and lay it beside me on the seat. “He said not to come armed.”

  “No. You can’t go out there without a weapon.”

  I look at her. “I have to. Besides, you have my back.”

  “Don’t do it. There must be another way.”

  I wish there was. I wish I could take her with me. Rader warned me to come alone. I plan to. I’m going to kill him and I don’t want a witness.

  “This is the only way,” I say. “It’s now or ne
ver. If I don’t go, he’ll kill Dan. We’re committed.”

  “Oh, this is bad. I’m going to get killed before I become a deputy,” she says, and cracks the car door open.

  She almost slides out on the ground and crab walks across the grass and down into a ditch, then up the other side and into the tree line. I wait until she disappears into the trees and put the car in gear. I hate doing this to her, but it’s for her own good. And for mine.

  I pull back onto the road and step on the gas. It will take her at least an hour to get to Port Angeles and call the sheriff. It will all be over by then.

  I find the side road near Silent Ridge where the motor home is parked and drive slowly. I check right and left for any sign of movement. If there are cameras strapped to trees, I will never see them in the dark. I stop and put my body armor on. I don’t think it will help if Rader slits my throat or shoots me in the head with a high-powered rifle, but it’s better than nothing.

  I get moving again. My headlights wash over the motor home. With its bark-and-cream color, it’s almost invisible. Nothing is moving. While there are no lights on, the clouds part allowing a narrow beam of moonlight on the ground. I stop in the darkest spot I can find and roll the window down. The woods are alive with the deafening sounds you would expect this far from civilization. I tuck my .45 in the back of my waistband and get out.

  If he’s going to come at me, he will do it now.

  Fifty-Nine

  I’ve waited long enough. As I approach the motor home, I hear something off in the trees to my left. My hand goes to my gun. The sound stops. I wait. Listen. The sound comes again. Like a small animal caught in a trap. My mind says Rader has set out bear traps in the darkness and is luring me into one.

  My sense of survival says I should get the hell out of here. My heart says stay, Dan is here. Somewhere. Alive, I hope. Besides, I’ve come this far to get Rader and came alone because I didn’t want Ronnie hearing all the things Rader will say.

  I take a step forward and hear the sound again. I don’t want to go there. Rader knows the area. I don’t. The sound is louder now. A moan. Maybe it’s Dan? The sound is coming from ten feet in front of me now.

  My feet catch on something big as I rush forward and I nearly fall on top of the source of the noise. It’s not Dan. It’s a woman. I’ve tripped over her legs where she is sitting, propped against a tree. Her long, dark hair covers her face. Her arms are behind her and a rope seems to be wound around her. She looks dazed. Maybe drugged. She’s smeared with something black. Dirt. Grease. Suet. It’s dark and hard to tell but I can smell smoke. Rader wouldn’t leave a conscious victim where he planned to kill me. I look around thinking this must be a distraction. The woman is bait. She starts moaning again and her frightened eyes open and fix on me. She panics and draws her legs back.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I say. “I’m here to help. Where is he?” I reach for my gun but too late.

  “He’s right here,” the woman says, and I see one arm is freed of the ropes. She grabs me and I feel a sharp pinch in my calf and see the syringe in her hand.

  My legs won’t hold me and I collapse onto my side and I’m unable to move.

  The woman slips the rope over her head and gets up. She brushes the dirt and grass from her jeans, shakes her hair out and pulls it back off her shoulders. She’s my height, a little slimmer, but has at least fifteen years on me. I’m not good at guessing ages. She tosses the syringe into the woods.

  “I have a little surprise for you, Rylee,” she says, and even though I’m paralyzed I feel my skin crawl. I was stupid coming here alone. Michael has a partner. A psycho partner.

  She stands over me, bends down and pats my clothing down and finds my .45. She pulls it out of my waistband and tosses it. I’m unable to see where she threw it but I hear it thud a good distance behind me. She finds the knife I keep in my boot and tosses it away.

  I should be frightened at this point, but I’m too angry to be scared.

  She gets down on one knee and looks into my eyes. “You won’t be able to move for a while.” She smiles. Her teeth are perfect. Bright white against her olive skin.

  “You’re probably wondering who I am. Sorry. You’ll die without ever knowing who killed you. Just know that you killed people I cared about.”

  My mind is running a marathon. I’ve killed a few people. I don’t know her. I’ve never seen her but she must be Michael’s girlfriend. She must be talking about Alex or Marie. Or maybe there’s a sister.

  “What? Cat got your tongue? Well, you don’t have to talk for me to read your eyes. You want to kill me as badly as I want to kill you.”

  She stands but keeps her eyes on mine. “My, my. You still think you can. I’ve been thinking of doing this for so long. Michael said you were surprisingly tough and relentless. Did you know Michael was afraid of you? He was. But I thought you’d be easy and I was right, Michael was wrong. How someone as reckless as you overcame Alex and Marie is a wonder. You would never have lasted five minutes with me, even without the drug.”

  I want so bad to tell her to shut the hell up. If she’s going to kill me, she should do it and not talk me to death. When I get feeling back in my body, I won’t talk. I’ll just gut her like a fish.

  “I want to show you something.” She grabs my ankles and drags me across the rough ground. I can feel pressure in my hips and ribs and my head bounces over rocks and sticks but there is no real pain. Whatever she shot me up with has anesthetic properties as well as paralytic. If I live, I’ll have to tell Marley.

  She drags me around behind the motor home. I can see a window in it but there are no lights on inside. I wonder where Michael Rader is. Is she dragging me to a grave? My anger starts to lessen and fear seeps in. If I could only move. Just a little. Is Michael the one who is supposed to kill me? Or will they do it together?

  She drops my legs and rolls me onto my side. My face lands in loose soil. There is a mound of red dirt, freshly dug up and piled a foot high. Some of it gets in my mouth, but I can’t spit it out. I can feel it dissolve.

  “Sorry, Rylee. I didn’t mean for you to eat dirt just yet.” She kicks the dirt away from my face and leaves me staring at a depression dug into the ground.

  “Go ahead. Get a good look,” she says, and I feel myself being shoved forward onto the mound of dirt. She turns my head until I can see into the shallow pit. Michael Rader’s severed head lies on his chest. His hands are placed on each side of the head as if he is holding it and preparing to put it on like a hat. His eyes are open, not really looking at anything.

  I’m pulled onto my back again and I see her moving toward my feet. She picks up my legs and drags me toward the back side of the motor home. My head bounces against the ground, hard; I can see stars above me and behind my eyes. I stop moving and can see the back of the motor home. She leans down and I feel myself jostled, but don’t know what she’s doing until I see one of my arms held up with a noose slipped around the wrist. She pulls the other arm and slips a noose around it as well. My arms disappear over my head.

  My toes and the tips of my fingers feel like they’re being pricked with a thousand pins. The paralytic agent is beginning to dissipate. I have no idea how long it will take to do so, but I hope she takes her time with the preparations of my destruction. She likes to talk. I think of blinking to let her know I’m still alert, but it might make her give me a stronger dose of her poison.

  She hoists me up with my back against the motor home, hanging by my arms. I think my feet aren’t touching the ground. I try to make myself angry again. Adrenaline is my friend. I think of Monique when I first met her. How she took a chance on me and helped me get into college and continued to fund me and support me until Michael Rader came into her life. I think of how frightened she sounded when she told me that she couldn’t help me anymore. And that she’d given copies of evidence I’d collected to Michael because he’d threatened to kill her daughter.

  I wonder who this woman is. How
does she know about me? “What the hell?” I say, and I surprise myself on hearing my voice. I hear her on the other side of the motor home.

  “You should get your feeling back soon. Don’t go anywhere. You’ll miss the party.”

  I can feel my hands. They feel like balloons attached to my wrists. The rope is cutting off the blood supply. I try to stand and feel my toes touching the ground. I don’t think I can stand to take the pressure from my wrists but I try.

  I hear something go thud, thud, thud, and an oompf and the woman marches Dan around the side of the motor home. His arms are bound behind his back. A rope is stretched between his ankles, allowing him to walk very limited steps. She pushes him next to me and puts a hangman’s noose around his throat. His face is bruised and swollen and bleeding.

  “Dan.” He knows I’m here but he doesn’t look at me. I don’t blame him. He’s here because of me. He’s here because I lied and didn’t warn him.

  The drug is wearing off fast, but I don’t let on by trying to stand, although the pain in my hands makes me want to scream.

  She steps in front of Dan with another syringe and is about to give him an injection. He doesn’t look like he can take it.

  “I want to ask you something,” I say. My words are slurred.

  She stops and looks at me.

  “Come here. I want to look in your eyes so I can know if you’re lying.”

 

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