Page 70 of Silent Ridge

5 mi.

And the other:

ELWHA River Trail

3 mi.

I drive a mile or so past these and say, “Hey, did you see that?”

Ronnie scrunches down further. “No. What?”

“I saw a light off in the woods. On my side. He thinks he’s being cute.” I slow down and pull onto the shoulder.

“What do we do?”

I say, “You can get out of your side. The interior lights don’t work. I pulled the fuse when I got the car.” I did. There’s no sense in giving yourself away with a light coming on at the wrong time. “Stay low and go into the trees. I don’t think he can see you. Stay in the woods unless you hear me call out.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll sit here until you’re in the woods. Then I’ll go across the road and see what’s what.” I take my gun out of the holster and lay it beside me on the seat. “He said not to come armed.”

“No. You can’t go out there without a weapon.”

I look at her. “I have to. Besides, you have my back.”

“Don’t do it. There must be another way.”

I wish there was. I wish I could take her with me. Rader warned me to come alone. I plan to. I’m going to kill him and I don’t want a witness.

“This is the only way,” I say. “It’s now or never. If I don’t go, he’ll kill Dan. We’re committed.”

“Oh, this is bad. I’m going to get killed before I become a deputy,” she says, and cracks the car door open.

She almost slides out on the ground and crab walks across the grass and down into a ditch, then up the other side and into the tree line. I wait until she disappears into the trees and put the car in gear. I hate doing this to her, but it’s for her own good. And for mine.

I pull back onto the road and step on the gas. It will take her at least an hour to get to Port Angeles and call the sheriff. It will all be over by then.

I find the side road near Silent Ridge where the motor home is parked and drive slowly. I check right and left for any sign of movement. If there are cameras strapped to trees, I will never see them in the dark. I stop and put my body armor on. I don’t think it will help if Rader slits my throat or shoots me in the head with a high-powered rifle, but it’s better than nothing.

I get moving again. My headlights wash over the motor home. With its bark-and-cream color, it’s almost invisible. Nothing is moving. While there are no lights on, the clouds part allowing a narrow beam of moonlight on the ground. I stop in the darkest spot I can find and roll the window down. The woods are alive with the deafening sounds you would expect this far from civilization. I tuck my .45 in the back of my waistband and get out.

If he’s going to come at me, he will do it now.

Fifty-Nine

I’ve waited long enough. As I approach the motor home, I hear something off in the trees to my left. My hand goes to my gun. The sound stops. I wait. Listen. The sound comes again. Like a small animal caught in a trap. My mind says Rader has set out bear traps in the darkness and is luring me into one.

My sense of survival says I should get the hell out of here. My heart says stay, Dan is here. Somewhere. Alive, I hope. Besides, I’ve come this far to get Rader and came alone because I didn’t want Ronnie hearing all the things Rader will say.

I take a step forward and hear the sound again. I don’t want to go there. Rader knows the area. I don’t. The sound is louder now. A moan. Maybe it’s Dan? The sound is coming from ten feet in front of me now.

My feet catch on something big as I rush forward and I nearly fall on top of the source of the noise. It’s not Dan. It’s a woman. I’ve tripped over her legs where she is sitting, propped against a tree. Her long, dark hair covers her face. Her arms are behind her and a rope seems to be wound around her. She looks dazed. Maybe drugged. She’s smeared with something black. Dirt. Grease. Suet. It’s dark and hard to tell but I can smell smoke. Rader wouldn’t leave a conscious victim where he planned to kill me. I look around thinking this must be a distraction. The woman is bait. She starts moaning again and her frightened eyes open and fix on me. She panics and draws her legs back.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I say. “I’m here to help. Where is he?” I reach for my gun but too late.

“He’s right here,” the woman says, and I see one arm is freed of the ropes. She grabs me and I feel a sharp pinch in my calf and see the syringe in her hand.

My legs won’t hold me and I collapse onto my side and I’m unable to move.

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