Page 48 of Silent Ridge

Ronnie pulls up the map and we find a GPS designation for the address Rader’s last payment was made from. The Google Map isn’t very helpful. It’s only fifty-eight miles but will be an hour-and-a-half drive to maybe find a dead-end road and a lean-to. Michael Rader would know how to disappear.

I have to decide. Do I go an hour and a half on a wild-goose chase north to maybe find Michael Rader, or do I go two and a half hours south to Kent to find Dan Moriarty? I decide to go to Silent Ridge. I’ll call Dan Moriarty, but I may want to have the Sheriff’s Office there do a welfare check on him first.

The sheriff makes my decision easier when he calls me into his office.

“Snohomish County doesn’t have a criminal record of Michael Rader,” Tony says, “but they do know of him. The sheriff said he got into a little trouble at the correctional facility and quit his job about five months ago. He’s had a few problems in town. Drunk and disorderly. But he’s never been arrested because of where he works. He said they give those guys a lot of slack since they work with the worst of the worst. He gave me the same address that Ronnie had on him. Do you want me to have someone go by there and see if he’s still living there?”

I call Ronnie into the office and we shut the door. “We found a bill he paid a month ago. It was sent from Silent Ridge in Clallam County.”

“Silent Ridge?” Sheriff looks dubious. “There’s not much housing around there, Megan.”

“I didn’t think so. I still want to look.”

“Take Ronnie with you. What can I do?” he asks.

“Can you call the crime lab and see if they ever identified the paralytic chemical they found during autopsy?”

“They haven’t called you yet?”

I shake my head and he gets up and calls Nan in. She comes right away.

Something she only does for him.

“Nan, didn’t you say the crime lab report came in?” he asks.

“I put it on Detective Carpenter’s desk yesterday,” she says.

“That’s fine,” he says. Nan waits but sees he is done and leaves. I shut the door behind her.

“I don’t have a report,” I say. I can’t believe Nan would stoop to being malicious even though I haven’t exactly been nice to her. It’s something I would do. Good for her.

“I’ll call the lab and get the report sent to me directly and a copy will be sent to your phone.”

“Thanks, Sheriff. We’ll call if we need anything,” I say.

Before we leave, Nan stops us. “I did put the report on your desk yesterday. You must have put it in with some other files,” she says.

“Probably,” I say. “Thanks, Nannette.”

* * *

I take Anderson Lake Road west to SR-101. I stop at the Wendy’s in Port Angeles to re-caffeinate myself. Ronnie asks for a water.

“If you’re going to work with me, you need to start drinking big-kid stuff, Ronnie.” I order a coffee for her. She takes the coffee and asks for three creams and three sugars.

It’s not coffee anymore. But it’s a start.

I drive west on 101 and turn south toward Silent Ridge Road. The houses are thinning as we take the wide curving highway south now, and soon there are farm fields and then into the forest we go. I’m beginning to feel like Little Red Riding Hood going to meet the Big Bad Wolf. And I forgot my axe.

“Are we going to call the Clallam County Sheriff and let them know we’re here?” Ronnie asks.

I give her a blank look. If we get into a shooting situation, I’ll call them. When you’re dealing with someone like Michael Rader, it’s better to sneak up on him. Then shoot him and leave quietly. But that won’t work with Ronnie along.

“Are you sure there are no warrants for his arrest?” I ask, fingers crossed.

“I checked. Nothing,” Ronnie says.

“Do you have body armor with you?” I’ve taken to wearing my body armor, or keeping it handy in the back seat. Shoot me once, shame on you. Shoot me twice, shame on me.

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