The Hidden

Chills shot down Scarlet’s spine as Nathan said her name; she thought at first that she was being identified as the murderer!

But then he continued.

“...knows... Scarlet knows...”

Gwen Barton let out a terrible, high-pitched scream.

“It’s Scarlet!” Terry cried. “The ghost says she knows!”

“I don’t know anything,” Scarlet said quickly, trying to digest the fact that Terry, too, could hear Nathan.

“It’s a trick. There is no damned ghost,” Clark said, all his earlier sense of fun gone.

“All right, that’s it,” Linda snapped, flicking on the dining room lights. “I’ve had it. You people claim to be professionals, but this is absolutely ridiculous.”

“But who was it?” Gigi demanded, white-lipped. “Was that poor Larry Parker?”

“I’ll tell you who it was. One of these so-called agents,” Charles snapped. “Linda, you had it right. This whole thing is smoke and mirrors. We just need to look harder to prove it.”

“There’s got to be a wire or something somewhere,” Linda said. She began tapping on the wall by the moose head.

Suddenly something flew out one of the moose’s giant nostrils.

Linda screamed in surprise and terror.

The projectile flew with the speed of a bullet, cutting through the air with an audible whoosh.

Diego lunged for Scarlet, bringing them both crashing to the floor. He shouted out to the others, “Everyone get down!”

Scarlet heard a thud as a silver arrow embedded itself in the back of the chair she had just vacated.

Ice filled her veins.

She was about to rise when she felt the pressure of Diego’s hand on her shoulders.

“Stay down!” Adam shouted.

Another whoosh and a second shaft hit the seat of her chair.

“What the hell?” Ben thundered from the ground as more arrows flew around the room.

“What the devil are you doing to us?” Clark yelled from under the table. “Séance, indeed!”

“We could have been killed,” Gigi said, practically sobbing.

“We still could,” Gwen said.

But then there was silence. Scarlet had tried to count. She thought she’d heard six arrows fly.

Was that it?

Diego quickly stood, but his hand on her back kept her where she was. “Everyone keep low,” he said in a warning tone. He looked down at her, and she nodded. With that assurance, he dashed across the room, stood on a chair and tore the moose head from the wall. It appeared to be a surprisingly easy task. Plaster seemed to explode everywhere as the mounted head fell to the floor with a massive thud. Staring, Scarlet realized that the wall had been hollowed out behind it, where the support beams stood.

“Don’t move,” Diego commanded everyone, jumping down to investigate the head. “We don’t know if it’s safe or not yet.”

It was easy for Scarlet to obey his words, because she realized her muscles were frozen.

“How the hell was the damned thing triggered?” Adam murmured, rising carefully and stepping to Diego’s side.

“The wall—Linda tapped the wall,” Gigi said, her voice quavering. “I’m not related. Whoever is doing this, I’m not related to Nathan Kendall!”

“I don’t think I’m related, but I won’t move anyway,” Linda said.

Suddenly, someone groaned.

“Oh, my God. I was—I was hit!” Terry called out. “I’m bleeding. And I am a descendant of Nathan Kendall. Oh God, oh God!”

Scarlet’s muscles suddenly started obeying her again, and she crawled over Terry. She saw a tiny trickle of blood on his shirtsleeve. She pulled his sleeve up to survey the wound. It was barely a scratch.

“I’m going to die,” he said.

“No, Terry, you’re just going to need a bandage,” she said reassuringly.

“Is the damned thing disarmed yet or not?” Clark growled, irritated. “I’ve stayed through a lot, Kendall, but my wife and I are out of here now.”

“I understand,” Ben said.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried, Levin. It’s obvious I was the target,” Terry said peevishly.