I don’t, a murderer will walk free. Rader will win again. But even if I spill my guts, it will only hurt my getting a warrant. I’ll look as bad, or worse, than him.
And there’s the fact that Rylee was never found. She’s supposed to be dead. The only thing I can hope for is a DNA match that positively puts him at the scene of Monique’s murder. I need to go back and search the motor home again. Look for any type of knife. If he’s home, he’ll fight. If he does, I can take a dying declaration from him. My word against a dead man’s.
I zone back in. Sheriff Gray is calling my name.
“Sorry, I was just thinking.”
He’s quiet again. Long enough to worry me.
“Sheriff?”
I hear his chair squeak. He’s sitting up. “Megan, when this is over, we need to have a talk.”
I don’t ask about what. I know. I hoped this day would never come.
“Thanks for trusting me,” I say.
“No problem,” he says.
Before he hangs up I ask, “By the way, did you ask the Clallam County Sheriff if there were any murders like the Delmont case?”
He sighs. “I’m not stupid. I told him about our case. If he had anything, he would have told me.”
“Right,” I say. I don’t think he’s stupid. I just want to be sure.
Forty-Eight
Marley Yang is walking Ronnie to the car. His hair is more stylish than the last time I saw him. His clothes a cut above his usual Macy’s menswear. He gives me a knowing smile and comes to my window.
“I knew you’d be wanting to know,” he says, “so I’m delivering it verbally in person. I’ll send the report tonight, but Ronnie said you needed to know right away and she didn’t think she’d remember everything.”
I almost laugh out loud but choke it back. Ronnie is a manipulator. Maybe as good as me. “Okay.”
“First of all, I’m not even going to address the black lace panties. I have them if you want them back.”
I don’t. It was mean to send them, but you never know if it’s evidence until it isn’t. Except in this case.
“The cigarette butts have two separate DNA. Neither DNA matches any of the other evidence. I sampled the lipstick on the coffee mug Ronnie found in the victim’s permanent residence. Good catch, by the way.”
When he says this he gives Ronnie a big smile. No doubt he thinks flattery will get him to third base. He’s not even on the bench yet.
He sees I’m still waiting for him to tell me about the fruit.
“I’ve positively identified the fruit as Annona cherimola or simply cherimoya. You find it in Central America. Colombia, Ecuador, Bolivia, Chile, Peru or tropical regions. Spain, even. It’s known as custard apple because of the very sweet taste. It doesn’t grow around here and it would be almost impossible to try.”
“You’re saying the thing was brought in here from another country?” I ask.
“You can probably buy it on Amazon,” Ronnie adds.
“She doesn’t mean from the Amazon,” Marley adds, and grins as if he’s made a joke. It’s not funny.
“The skin of the fruit is what’s important, though,” Marley says. “If it is crushed and put into liquid form—say, like the loaded syringe Ronnie found—it is highly poisonous and has paralytic properties. Like anesthetic only more potent. The liquid in the syringe is a match for the chemical we found in the victim’s system. Like I said, it has paralytic properties that would render someone unable to resist. Enough of it would kill. I’m trying to get a baseline for the exact amount it would take to cause death. I’ll let you know when I know.”
I hate to ask this. “What about the candy wrapper and the melted syringe?”
He gives me an unhappy look. “The candy wrapper didn’t have DNA. The syringe, however, had trace amounts of the same chemical as the loaded one Ronnie found. If there was DNA, it was destroyed by the heat when it melted.”
“Cyanide?”
“The rat poison is cyanide. The granules collected with the seeds is cyanide—rat poison. There was no cyanide in Monique Delmont’s system. There wasn’t any cyanide in the syringes.”
Ronnie beams at Marley. “He’s so smart.”
Marley actually blushes. “I’ve got to get back.”
I nod and he turns to Ronnie. “Still on for tonight?”
“You bet,” she says. “Megan should come too.”
“I wouldn’t want to be in the way.” The minute I say it I know it’s the wrong thing to say. I should have said I’m coming