The bastard paralyzed her and then sliced her skin from her body. It’s personal. It’s more than that. It’s a threat.
To me.
Thirty-Two
We’re back in the office. Ronnie gives me the address book. I’m going to make the calls she already made and the ones she might have missed. I might get lucky if someone remembers something after the first call.
Ronnie is going to run Michael Rader down. If she can’t find him, I can supply things I know about him and tell her it came from Gabrielle.
“Gabrielle didn’t give you much to go on. There are forty-two Michael Raders in Washington. Five of them are females. ‘White male’ narrows it down to thirty-one. ‘Middle-aged’ I take to mean older than thirty and younger than fifty. There are fourteen that fit. Maybe we can get a better description from Gabrielle, since she gave you the name.”
“I don’t think she’ll be any help. She said her mother told her the name at one time or other and she thought Monique was afraid of the man. She gave Gabrielle the description that I gave you in case he bothered her.”
Ronnie pauses and looks up from her notes. “I can tell you that none of the Raders I found have police records. If that helps.”
It doesn’t.
I know that Michael was a correctional officer. I can call the prison and see if he’s still employed there. I can get his personal information from their personnel. I’ll tell them I’m doing a background check for a car loan. Or I can have Ronnie do that, but I’d have to tell her what prison.
My phone rings again and I don’t recognize the number. “Detective Carpenter,” I say.
“This is Gabrielle. Have you found out anything?”
“Not much right now, Gabrielle. How are you doing?”
“As good as can be expected with what’s going on.”
“I don’t need to know where you are; I just want you to be safe.”
“Thank you for coming to let me know in person. I haven’t told my son what’s going on. If I tell him his grandmother is dead, he’ll wonder why I’m here and not making funeral arrangements. I’ll have to come home soon.”
“I understand. Call me before you do any traveling, okay?”
“I’ll do that, but can you keep me informed, please?”
“Yes. I have a question. The coroner needs to know what medications your mom was taking. There was nothing at the”—I almost say “crime scene”—“house she had rented. And there were no medicines at her house in Tacoma. Do you know if she was taking anything?”
“She wasn’t on any medication.”
“Are you sure?”
“She used to take something for depression. When Leanne’s killer was… gone, she found she didn’t need it anymore. She was busy with her work, and it seemed to be enough. Why?”
“The pathologist found a chemical in her blood. He was just wondering if it was a prescribed medication.”
“My mom would never take an illegal drug, if that’s what they think.”
“I’ll tell them what you’ve told me. They’re trying to get an identification of the chemical right now. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. This is a new phone. Should I call Clay and give it to him? He was so nice.”
Clay? I wonder just how nice he is. “No. Not for now. We will keep it safe. Just call me when you plan on returning and I’ll pass it on to Detective Osborne. It’s better if fewer people have it.”
“Thank you. Remember your promise.”
“I will. Is there anything you need?”
“Just this guy dead.”