The Hidden

“You know,” he said. “You know!”


Scarlet backed away and blinked hard, startled.

When she opened her eyes, she realized that Larry Parker hadn’t really moved. She had imagined the entire scenario.

And she’d backed right into Dr. Fuller.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly.

“It’s okay. Are you all right?” he asked her.

“I’m fine,” she said, and forced a smile, then felt ridiculous for trying so hard to smile.

In the morgue.

Lara looked at her with concern, but it was Brett who spoke.

“You all set?” he asked.

“Are you okay?” Lara asked.

“I’m all set. Dr. Fuller, thank you.”

“I hope you find the killer soon,” Fuller said, and led them out.

As they left the morgue, Brett looked at Scarlet with concern. “Did something happen in there? Did you get a sense that Larry or Candace was still there?”

“No. There was a moment when I got spooked and thought Larry was coming back to life, like something from a cheap horror movie, but that was it. Thank you for bringing me, even if we didn’t learn anything.”

“Well, you never know ’til you try,” Brett said.

His phone rang just as they got to the car, and they waited while he answered. Scarlet could tell that he was talking to Diego.

As soon as he hung up he said, “They’ve found Charles Barton and they have him in custody.”

“And?” Scarlet persisted.

“He’s denying everything, but...”

“But what?” Scarlet asked.

“They found bloody fabric in his car. Lieutenant Gray thinks it’s from a jacket Cassandra Wells had at work but wasn’t wearing when she was found. As unfathomable as it may seem, it looks like Charles Barton is our killer.”

*

Charles Barton sat in a chair across from Diego. He was belligerent, still, after several hours, denying that he had killed anyone and swearing that he had no idea how the bloody fabric had ended up in his car.

“Why in God’s name would I have come out here for my honeymoon and then started shooting a bunch of total strangers?” he demanded. “And that moose head! I wouldn’t begin to know how to rig it up to shoot arrows at people. And don’t forget I have an alibi. On the night the Parkers were killed I was with my wife, remember?”

“Your wife doesn’t really know where you were. She took one of her headache pills, remember?”

“And so did I!” he exclaimed. “I was out like a light. Or do you think I kill people in my sleep?” He groaned suddenly. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s probably happened, or at least someone’s probably used it as an excuse in a courtroom. But I swear to you—I didn’t do it! Get Gwen in here. She’ll tell you I’m not a killer. I’m a quarterback, for God’s sake.”

Diego decided against telling him that being an athlete didn’t make a man innocent. In fact, given recent events, it might even make things more difficult for him.

Charles leaned forward suddenly. “It’s an inside job. Can’t you see that? You have to look at Ben Kendall. It’s his place. He knows his own damned walls. I’m telling you, this is a setup.”

“So why did you elude a police guard?” He saw Charles’s shocked look and said, “That’s right. We had people watching your hotel. So where were you? Where did you go this morning?”

Charles reddened, then quickly looked away.

“Wherever the hell it was, it’s better to tell us. Otherwise it looks as if you were out planning to ditch evidence or even kill again,” Diego warned him quietly.

“I—I can’t tell you.”

“You’d better tell me.”

Barton looked down at the table. “If I do, can we keep it a secret?”

“Charles, we’re talking about multiple murders.”

Barton remained silent. Then his shoulders fell. “I was with a woman,” he said.