Page 30 of Silent Ridge

He’s looking at me questioningly, as if he deserves an explanation. I’m the detective. I’ll ask the questions.

“Where did you get these, Dan?” I ask this in my detective’s voice. He still doesn’t answer. I’m not used to being at a loss for words.

“This one”—I put my finger on the one where I’m leaving the Sheriff’s Office—“was left at a crime scene yesterday morning. Amurdercrime scene. How did you get it?”

Instead of answering, he pushes the laminated picture of a teenage Megan—when I was Rylee—toward me. I’ve never seen this side of him. He’s always so easy to talk to. Non-judgmental. Never digging. That’s the reason I like him. I don’t like this guy.

“What do you want me to say, Dan?”

He breaks his silence. “I want you to explain why these were left in the mailbox at my cabin.”

I down my Scotch in one swallow and look around for the waitress. Naturally, she’s nowhere around. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know or won’t say?”

“Honestly, Dan, I don’t know.”

“I saw on the news this morning that a woman was found murdered. The newscaster said you were working the case.”

“I am,” I say. “Can we just have our drinks? I don’t want to talk about work.”

“And now you’re asking me about strange phone calls.” Dan pushes his drink away. He looks angry and concerned and it’s not a good look for him.

“I told you why I asked about the phone calls.”

“I never thought you’d lie to me, Megan.”

“I’m not lying. Yes, I’m working the murder. Yes, I have a case where crank calls play into it.”

I don’t tell him the calls are probably made by the murderer. I feel guilty for not telling him that he might possibly be in danger because of me. I don’t tell him any of that because someone, maybe the killer, has left the photos at Dan’s place in Snow Creek. I don’t know what connection he’s made that is making him act this way.

“Are you in danger, Megan?” he asks.

I want so badly to tell him what’s going on, but I don’t dare. If I tell him, it will make him more of a target, make him paranoid like me, make him hate me for what I’ve done to bring this down on myself.

“I can take care of myself, Dan.”

I smile. The smile is a mask.

“I don’t know why someone would leave these for you.”

Before I can pick them up from the table, he puts a hand on them. “I called Mindy.”

Uh-oh.

“She said a picture just like this was left at the crime scene.” He puts his finger on the office picture. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t discuss it with you, Dan. The investigation is just beginning and Mindy shouldn’t have told you anything.”

“Who is the girl in the other picture?” he asks.

“I have no idea. I’ve never seen that picture before.”

He looks at me for several seconds. “It’s a picture of you when you were a girl. Don’t tell me it’s not.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me. I wouldn’t, either.

He puts the pictures back in his shirt pocket. “Then you don’t need these.” He downs his drink and gets up. “I’ve got to go.”

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