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

by Gregg Olsen

  She doesn’t.

  Fifteen

  “I saw the guns and didn’t know what to think,” Gabrielle says.

  “We smelled something bad,” Ronnie explains.

  “Smells like a dead body?” Gabrielle asks.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “My neighbor’s septic tank is overflowing. I’ve complained to him but he’s not going to fix it. I’ve complained to the city and they haven’t sent anyone out. And I think he’s a little mental. He has about twenty cats and I think some of them are dead.”

  I’ve heard of a “cat lady” but never a “cat man.” I don’t care if he’s crazy; I’m glad I haven’t stumbled onto another skinned corpse. The smell isn’t so strong inside her house. In any case, if it were me, I’d hold the neighbor at gunpoint until he fixed it. But that’s just me.

  Ronnie makes chamomile tea in the kitchen while I sit with Gabrielle, who says she’s a teetotaler. Ronnie brings back cups and saucers for all of us, but I’d rather drink toilet water than this stuff. I can understand not drinking liquor, but chamomile?

  Gabrielle stares down into the liquid in her teacup without speaking.

  “I’m sorry about your mother,” I say.

  She examines my face. I can see a light come on and she sits completely still for what seems minutes. Then she resumes sipping the tea and her whole demeanor changes.

  “Can we speak alone, Detective Carpenter?”

  “I’ll make some more tea,” Ronnie says. “Would you like some tea, Megan? She has regular tea too.”

  I haven’t even touched my nasty brew. I hand the cup and saucer to Ronnie and nod. I can’t take my eyes from Gabrielle’s face. “Yes. That will be nice. No sugar. Give us a few minutes.”

  “Of course.” Ronnie heads off to the kitchen.

  Gabrielle motions for me to follow her outside. She pulls the door to behind us and faces me.

  “I know who you are,” she says.

  I feel goose bumps on my arms. I believe her. Monique must have told her something, but what? I say nothing.

  Tears start to well in her eyes. “Mom told me all about you. She said you were the one. You finished off the bastard that took my sister from us. I recognize you from the newspaper photo Mom kept. She was in awe of you, do you know that? She said your name is Rylee but you’d probably changed it.”

  I can’t speak. No one is supposed to ever know all of that. I feel fear and anxiety and a little relief. Like popping a blister and letting all the bad stuff out.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word. You’re like a superhero to us.”

  She hugs me and cries in earnest. “You’ll get him. My mom believed in you. She didn’t deserve to die. She was a great woman. She’d do anything to help anyone. She told me how you’d found Leanne’s killer. She told me Leanne wasn’t the only one that he’d killed. You gave her all the evidence the cops would need to clear all those murders and help their families.

  “And then his brother came and threatened her that he’d kill me if she didn’t…” Her lips trembled, and I could tell she was fighting for composure. “It’s Michael Rader. I just know it. You find him. I know you’ll get justice for her.”

  When she says this, she gives a smile that is both angry and full of hate. I wouldn’t want that smile turned on me. “I will,” I tell her, but we both know it won’t be justice I’ll be getting.

  It will be something else entirely.

  She wipes tears away with the back of her hand. Ronnie comes from the kitchen and into the living room. I take Gabrielle’s hand. “I’ll finish this,” I say. “I promise.” She nods and fakes a smile. A more relieved one this time. I know what it’s like to smile and hate at the same time.

  We go back in and sit on the couch. Gabrielle says, “Please have a seat, Detective Marsh.”

  Ronnie has been standing this whole time. Gabrielle called her Detective Marsh. I see a glint of pride in Ronnie’s eyes. “I made you another cup of chamomile, Mrs. Delmont.”

  “Please, call me Gabrielle. Mom called me Gabby because that’s what I usually am. This has been a crazy day.” She takes the tea and I pick up my teacup. No sugar, just like I asked for.

  “Gabrielle,” I say, “why was your mother in Port Townsend?”

  “I can’t tell you that. I mean, I don’t know. I talked to her on Friday night. She told me she was in Port Townsend but she led me to believe she was on business for the advocacy group. She never said who it involved.”

  “She called you this Friday night?” According to the coroner, she was killed on Saturday.

  “Yes. I gave up my cell phone and bought one of those—what do you call them?—a paid one.”

  “A burner?” Ronnie asks.

  “That’s right. I only gave the number to my mother.”

  Ronnie raises her hand. I am propelled back to a classroom.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  Ronnie puts her hand down. “I got the phone records sent to me while I was making tea. Mrs. Delmont’s phone hasn’t made or received any calls for three weeks.”

  Gabrielle speaks up.

  “That’s probably right. She called and gave me a new number. We’ve both been getting crank calls and I suppose she changed numbers to stop them. I got the burner. I haven’t had any calls since and turned my other phone off.”

  “Ronnie, will you call Mindy and tell her to look for the cell phone again? Tell her that Monique used it Friday night to call her daughter.”

  Ronnie goes outside to make the call.

  “You didn’t find my mother’s phone?”

  “Not where she was staying as far as I’ve been told. Do you know for sure she was in Port Townsend when she called you?”

  “I heard a horn blaring in the background. I knew she was somewhere near a ferry landing. She told me she was renting a place in Port Townsend.”

  “She didn’t tell you why?”

  She shakes her head. “I thought the call was a little strange. We talked all the time up until about a month ago. Then she called and said she was getting crank calls. I thought maybe it had something to do with her work. Maybe someone was harassing her.” She stops talking and looks to be sure Ronnie isn’t nearby and lowers her voice. “Do you think it was him? Michael?”

  I don’t know. Ronnie comes back inside before I can answer. “I couldn’t reach Mindy. Can you give me your mother’s new phone number?”

  Gabrielle gives it to Ronnie, who gets busy on her cell phone. She also gives Ronnie her own burner phone number.

  “I didn’t know you could get phone records that easy,” she says. “I don’t know how I feel about that. I mean, if you can get them I wonder about…”

  She doesn’t have to finish the sentence. She knows that Michael Rader has police connections.

  Sixteen

  Gabrielle sees me checking out her game system and television.

  “That’s mine,” she says. “It gives me a distraction when I need a break from working. I work from home. Medical billing. I should have become a nurse, but I have an aversion to blood. I spend a lot of time on my own. I don’t even like the games but with my son gone…”

  She’s chattering about insignificant things, trying to be brave. She went through something similar when her sister, Leanne, was killed. She probably had to hold it together to keep her mother and father from falling apart.

  “Where is your son?”

  “He graduated high school and got a job with Starbucks as a programmer. He’s a very bright boy. He lives in Maine now and is a bigshot IT guy.” She tries to smile.

  “Sebastian, right?”

  “That’s right. He’s been gone for a year now. He likes the East Coast. Of course, his girlfriend might have something to do with that. She works for Starbucks too. Did you know they send their employees through college? He got his degree online from Arizona State University and is thinking of going for a Masters in computer science to become a software developer. It’s basically what he d
oes now.”

  I feel dread at what I’m about to say. “Gabrielle, can you go visit Sebastian for a while? Stay somewhere that no one can find you?”

  “You think Michael will come after me and my son?”

  “He used you to get to your mother.”

  And to me.

  “If Sebastian is in danger, I’ll do whatever I have to.”

  “Do you know if he’s been getting these crank calls?”

  “He hasn’t said anything, but I haven’t told him about me and his grandma getting them. I didn’t want to worry him, but I’ll call him now and tell him I’m coming for a visit.”

  Gabrielle goes into the kitchen and I hear her on the phone. She comes back. “He’s glad to have me visit. I don’t know how he’ll be when I tell him about his grandmother. I don’t know how to tell him.”

  She seems to be holding it together fairly well for everything we’ve thrown at her in the last thirty minutes.

  “You should tell your son exactly what he needs to know to be safe. He doesn’t need to know everything. I’ll take care of keeping your mother’s business in Port Townsend out of the news. I’ll call her landlord and make sure that’s cleared up. The coroner might want to talk to you on the phone. Do you have keys to your mother’s house in Tacoma?”

  She goes into the kitchen and is gone a while. When she returns with a key I can tell she’s been crying.

  “I don’t know how to say this,” I start. I know that sometimes it’s best just to spit it out. “I couldn’t positively identify your mother’s body.”

  “Oh,” she says, and looks at her hands.

  “That’s why I need to go to her house. I have to find something of hers that I can use for DNA testing.”

  Tears well up again. I don’t know what to say, even if I could get the words out.

  “We’re so sorry,” Ronnie says. “Is there anyone we can call to be with you until you make arrangements for wherever you’re going?”

  Ronnie looks at me, no doubt wondering if it’s safe to leave her.

  “We’ll need a DNA sample from you,” I say to Gabrielle. “For a positive identification.”

  Ronnie takes a DNA collection tube with a swab from her pocket. She always seems to have the right thing at the right time. How does she do that?

  “She won’t have to go right away,” I say while Ronnie collects the sample.

  I take my phone out and look up a number. I dial and it’s answered on the first ring.

  “Kitsap County Sheriff’s Office. Detective Osborne.”

  “It’s Megan, Clay. I need a favor.”

  Seventeen

  I call Sheriff Gray while we’re on the road to Tacoma. “We’ve found Mrs. Delmont’s daughter.”

  “Is she coming to identify the body?”

  “I told her not to. She couldn’t possibly identify the body anyway.”

  “And you’re worried about her safety,” he says.

  Sheriff Gray is a smart guy, an old-time detective. “She’s going to be protected until she can get someplace safe.”

  “No need to tell me where,” he says. “You can reach her if you need to, right?”

  “Yes. Are you somewhere that you can talk freely?”

  What I’m really asking is if he’s anywhere that Nan can use her super-hearing.

  “I’m in my office. Door closed. And I’ll talk quietly. Will that do?”

  He’s aware of Nan and her foghorn mouth. She tells everyone everything. “Have you heard when the autopsy will take place?” I ask.

  “Tomorrow morning, Andrade said. Where are you?”

  “We’re going to Delmont’s house in Tacoma to see if we can find out why she was in Port Townsend. And we’ll need to find a DNA sample. We got one from her daughter. The daughter gave us Monique’s house key and her permission.”

  Sheriff Gray stays quiet and I go on, “Ronnie is doing exactly what you ordered. I won’t get her into a fight. I promise. And she’s been a big help. I’ll need her to help me search the house, anyway. And she’s the one who came up with the daughter’s information.”

  “You don’t have to convince me, Megan. Just keep me informed. You don’t have any authority in Tacoma, so don’t get in any trouble that I can’t get you out of.”

  Sheriff Gray is more of a father than my stepfather Rolland was—although Rolland really tried to act like a father and I knew he cared about me. “I’ll stay out of trouble,” I say.

  I can’t guarantee that, of course. If Michael Rader is in Tacoma, I’m going to end him. I’ll worry about Ronnie later.

  I have been to Monique’s house just the once. I don’t want to go there any more than I want to be in Port Orchard, but my past follows me. When this day is over, I might have to call Dr. Albright. She always knows the right things to say to put me back together after I have come apart.

  As we cross the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, Point Defiance Park is at the tip of the peninsula. The place where Leanne was kidnapped. Ronnie’s GPS directs me toward the outskirts of the city. I let Ronnie’s GPS take us all the way to Monique’s house.

  We arrive and Ronnie’s jaw drops. Just as mine did when I first saw it. The Delmont residence grabs the edge of a cliff that overlooks Tacoma and the surprisingly pristine-looking waters of Commencement Bay. It is by far the biggest and nicest house that I’ve ever seen outside of a magazine. It’s twice the size of the rental house where Monique was staying. The front door is huge and all glass. I wonder how anyone can keep such a thing clean.

  The first time I saw all that glass, it made me think of Hayden and his dirty little fingers, which would have made a mess of it in about two minutes. The thought of my brother Hayden, the way we’d left things when I last saw him, makes my chest hurt. My heart is as broken as it has ever been, and that’s saying a lot. He is the last family I have. I knew he hated me before he showed up out of the blue, in Port Townsend, around a month ago. He agreed to stay the night in my spare room so we could talk it out in the morning. But he left before I woke and left a note telling me he never wanted to see me and I should stop trying to contact him. I held out hope that I could explain things. That he would somehow realize that I was his only family and forgive me for leaving him. I can see how my words hurt Gabrielle today. Monique was her world. But at least she has a son whom she loves and who still loves her. Knowing this, why do I expect the relationship between Hayden and my mother to be any different? Hayden loves our mother. He visits her in prison and knows I don’t. He still believes she cares. I don’t.

  We get out of the Taurus. I look through the window in the garage door. Monique’s car is there.

  “Does she have another car?” Ronnie asks.

  “Did you find more than one vehicle registered?”

  “The Caddy is the only one I found. That’s the one Crime Scene is looking for at the scene. They didn’t find a car there?”

  “Let’s go inside,” I say. I use the key Gabrielle provided and unlock and open the door. That triggers a memory of the first time I saw Monique in person. She answered the door with a look of hesitation. Her hair looked like spun gold and she was wearing big diamond earrings. I recognized her immediately. I’d seen her picture in the newspaper articles I’d found when researching the death of Leanne. Her work with the advocacy group was the way I found her address the first time. I called them and arranged to meet with Monique.

  This is all like a replay of the past. I hear Ronnie’s shoes echo on the gleaming hardwood floors, just as I’d heard Monique’s designer shoes as she led me to a cozy seating area in a corner of the elegant great room. The room is larger than the last two houses my family had lived in. Larger than the entire apartment I live in now. For a moment I taste the amazing almond cookies she made. She gave me coffee with them. I had been eating fruit and granola bars since the day I’d gone on the run. I wanted to get a proper meal, but back then I couldn’t because I was running out of time.

  I feel that same sputtering urgency now
.

  “What’s wrong, Megan?”

  “I was just thinking how hard this must be on Gabrielle,” I lie.

  “What are we looking for?”

  “You start in the bathrooms. See if you can find a hairbrush, a toothbrush. Anything with DNA for the lab. I’ll start in the kitchen.” I don’t say I know that’s where Monique spent a lot of time with her laptop and drinking tea.

  “I wonder where the bathroom is in this place?” Ronnie walks down a hallway and out of sight.

  Eighteen

  Ronnie is off looking for the bathrooms. There are probably three or four. She should be busy for a while.

  I go into the kitchen and remember a conversation I’d had with Dr. Albright in one of my first therapy sessions. The session comes at me in words and pictures, like a movie. I’m sitting on her couch, breathing in the scent of the flowers in the tall vase.

  This time, calla lilies.

  Tell me more about Monique, Dr. Albright says.

  Her deep-blue eyes are full of concern. Her daughter is dead, I tell her. I’m pretending to be a reporter, asking questions that I know are causing her pain. Mrs. Delmont looks at me closely and asks, “Are you all right, dear?” I wonder what it is that she thinks is wrong with me. I’m good at hiding my emotions. “Excuse me?” I ask in the kindest, most nonthreatening, attitude-free manner in which anyone could ever utter those words.

  She looks at my hands. “You’ve chewed your nails to the quicks.” My hands are in my lap. My fingernails are nearly gone. I didn’t realize that I’d been gnawing them to the point of oblivion. I wonder what other ways my anger, anxiety, fear and need for revenge was manifesting itself. I felt I was changing in ways that I both reviled and welcomed. Chewed nails are on the reviled side of the T-chart that makes up my life’s pros and cons. “It’s just this story,” I lied to Mrs. Delmont, and notice one of my fingertips is still wet. I wonder how I could be so unaware of myself. What is wrong with me?