Page 55 of Silent Ridge

“We didn’t go see Dan Moriarty. I’ve got his number in my notebook.”

Next she’ll be finishing my sentences. “When you call, put it on speakerphone. I’m going to let you do all the talking. It’s good experience.” And I don’t want to chance him remembering me. I don’t think he will, because he’s only interested in a woman’s body and not her voice.

Ronnie looks up the number and dials.

A thought hits me just then.No cyanide in her system. Or inside the syringes. So why were the syringes hidden in with the cyanide? Why was the rat poison there in the first place? The obvious answer to the presence of rat poison was rats. But a motor home that expensive shouldn’t have an infestation.

“Hullo,” the voice answers Ronnie’s phone. He sounds sick, or drunk or both.

“Mr. Dan Moriarty?” Ronnie asks.

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“I’m Deputy Marsh with the Sheriff’s Office. I want to ask a few questions.”

“Deputy?” He sounds a little freaked. “What is this? I haven’t done anything. I’m obeying the court restriction for house arrest and staying home. You can check my monitor.”

Ronnie looks at me.

“I can see you’re at your home, Mr. Moriarty. That’s not why I’m calling. I need you to answer some questions.” She can’t ask why he’s on house arrest because she’s supposed to know that. Besides, it’s not important.

She sounds more authoritative. Less unsure. He’s a captive audience and prone to answer any question put to him, thinking we are part of the people monitoring him. I wish Ronnie could look up the reason for the house arrest but I’m driving and she’s on the phone.

“Mr. Moriarty, I’m looking into a case where phone harassment is taking place.”

“’S’not me. Someone sayin’ it’s me?”

“No, Mr. Moriarty. I need you to listen. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He still sounds drunk or drugged. He didn’t sound this way back when I talked to him about his daughter’s murder. He was on a health kick that time. Getting in shape and all that. I wonder what’s happened.

“Mr. Moriarty, I know your daughter was killed many years ago.”

He says nothing, but I can hear his breathing become heavier and faster. I hate this part. Bringing the past into someone’s life when they’ve already been hurt beyond understanding. But it’s necessary.

“Did you receive hang-up calls before that happened?” Ronnie asks.

“What?” He shifts the phone around and I hear it thump where he lay it down. “Why does that matter now?” He says this as if from a distance. He sounds sober now. He’s on speakerphone himself.

“It’s important. That’s all I can say right now. I want to know if you had hang-up or strange calls back before that happened.”

Ronnie is being persistent. Firm. That’s good.

“I told the cops back then.”

“Tellme,” she says.

“Okay. Okay. Yes. There were a bunch of hang-up calls. I thought they were for Megan. But later my wife left me for another woman. I know they were for my ex. Every time I answered, they’d hang up in my ear. The bitch. Sorry. Sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry, Mr. Moriarty. Have you had contact with your ex-wife?”

I wonder where Ronnie is going with this. I haven’t tried to contact Mrs. Moriarty. She wasn’t in the picture when I was trying to find Alex Rader. It was an oversight.

“No. She died a couple of years ago. Cancer.”

“You have my condolences, Mr. Moriarty. Have you had any strange calls recently? In the last six months or so?”

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