The Hidden

Diego nodded, feeling his throat tighten. “I need to get back,” he said huskily.

“Brett and Lara are at the apartment with her, and the alarm is set. She’s all right,” Meg said firmly.

“I know. I just need to get back anyway,” Diego said.

“Go,” Adam told him.

Diego nodded. He headed for the door and then paused. “Tomorrow I’m going to talk to Lieutenant Gray about taking Ben and Trisha in.”

“So now you do think they’re guilty?” Jane asked.

“No. I think they’re innocent. But I think they’re in danger—just as Scarlet and Terry and Gray himself are—and making it look like we suspect them is the best way to protect them. Ben will understand if you explain it and if it means he’s helping the investigation, not to mention I think he’s finally realized his wife might be in danger, too.”

“What about Linda Reagan?” Meg asked.

“I think she bears watching,” Adam said.

Diego nodded.

“Then we’ll watch her,” Jane said.

“See you in the morning,” Adam said to Diego.

“In the morning,” he agreed, then left.

He was ready to reach for his Glock as he walked toward the museum.

He looked over at the stables. The drapes were open, and he could see Angus sitting in his chair, probably watching television. His shotgun was at his side.

Diego reached the museum and was ready to key in the alarm code as soon as he opened the door, but he didn’t need to. The door opened and Scarlet was there, with Brett and Lara right behind her.

Scarlet blushed slightly. “We just wanted to make sure you got in safely,” she said.

Behind her, Brett shrugged. Diego knew his partner well. The shrug meant, What was I supposed to do? She was worried about you, and I wasn’t about to let her come down here alone—or leave Lara upstairs alone.

“Thanks. I’m safe, I promise. Now we’re locking up, going through the whole place and getting some sleep,” he told her, then looked at Brett.

“I’ve checked, but it never hurts to check again.”

“Nathan was here,” Scarlet said, following close behind him as the four of them walked through the museum.

Diego stopped short and turned to face her. “What did he say?”

“He didn’t move the statue of himself upstairs, but we knew that. He did knock it over, though. And, Diego, he did find gold, and that’s why his killer was torturing. He wanted to know where it was. Nathan would have given it to him, too, but he didn’t know where it was himself. He would have done anything to protect Jillian, except that he’d given her the gold to hide for the future, for their son. Oh! And his killer wore a burlap bag over his head, just like our killer. I told him I thought it was Rollo, and why—did Matt and Meg explain when they got up to the house?”

Diego nodded. “They did.”

“Good. Anyway, I think Nathan agrees with me about Rollo, even though he never saw his killer’s face and didn’t recognize his voice.”

“We’re tight as a drum down here,” Brett said.

“Good. Let’s try to get some sleep,” Diego said.

They headed upstairs, where, by rote, he and Brett went through the apartment, even though someone had been there all night.

In the hallway, they said their good-nights and went to their separate rooms.

The minute the door was closed behind them, Scarlet turned into his arms. There was a sweet rush of urgency about her. They didn’t speak as they struggled out of their clothing, and when they fell into bed, he thought he might drown in the silk of her flesh and the fall of her hair. The night was electric. They should have been exhausted after everything that had happened, but they made love as if it might be the last time, as if the earth might open and take them away with the morning’s light.