The Hidden

“I’ll be happy to make you a list, but this is ridiculous. I spoke with my ex-husband, and I am not lying to you, he’s a federal agent. He’s on his way here, and he’ll—”

She stopped abruptly. And he’ll show you who’s boss! she’d almost said. Now she wasn’t just thinking like a scared child, she was sounding like one.

“He’ll speak to your superiors and straighten everything out,” she said.

Gray shrugged. “Ex-husband?” he said. “I’m sure he’s just soaring his way right here.”

She felt her cheeks burn.

He didn’t know Diego. Diego would come.

There was a tap at the door. Lieutenant Gray scowled at her and went to answer it, leaving her alone in the interrogation room. She wondered if people were watching her from behind the glass, the way they did on TV.

She took the pad and began to write. A moment later, Lieutenant Gray, looking disgruntled, returned to the room.

“You can go,” he told her.

“Just like that?” she asked surprised.

“I can lock you up for twenty-four hours if you’d rather.”

She stood, anxious to leave. He opened the door for her.

As she passed him, she paused. “Why are you letting me go? It’s not because you believe me.”

“No,” he admitted. “My captain said to let you out. They can’t find anything on your camera to show those pictures were ever there. And,” he added grudgingly, “you were seen in town. Specifically, people remembered seeing you on the street, talking to yourself.”

“I was not talking to myself!” she protested.

Gray shrugged. “One of my own men actually saw you arguing with the air.”

“That’s ridiculous. I was stopped by a strange man and—”

Gray waved a hand, cutting her off. “You want me to hold you for twenty-four hours?”

“No!”

“Then leave. But I’ll be watching you. Even if that ex of yours shows up.”

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” she told him, chin held high.

She felt as if everyone was watching her as she walked through the station and out to the street. When she reached the sidewalk, she realized she didn’t have her car—she’d arrived in a police car.

Just as she thought about the best place to catch a cab, she saw that the Kendalls were there, Trisha standing still and watching as Ben paced. She was about to say something when Trisha saw her and came running over.

“Scarlet! This is so awful. Ben is beside himself. They’ve grilled him, too, but they didn’t hold him like they did you.”

Ben had reached them by that point. “Scarlet, I’m so sorry. When the cops told me about the murders, I—I wasn’t thinking. All I could think of was the pictures, and I said... Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

“Both of you, please don’t worry,” she said. “It’s over.”

“I’m sure they know you could never do anything like that,” Trisha said.

“They don’t, but they do know I was in town at the time of the murders, and they couldn’t find anything in the camera. They didn’t give it back yet, but...it’s over, it’s okay.”

It really wasn’t over, she knew, but it was well past midnight and they were all ready to keel over. “What about the ranch?” she asked. “Who’s looking after the guests?”

Ben waved a hand dismissively. “Linda has the house, and Angus is down at the stables. Six of the guests left, too upset by what happened to stay on. Only Mr. Ballantree, the Bartons and Gigi and Clark Levin are still here.”

“What did happen?” Scarlet asked. “I mean... I know two people were killed but who and how and...?” Her voice trailed off.

“Let’s get to the car,” Trisha suggested. She was the perfect wife for Ben, Scarlet thought. They were lovely people separately as well as great together. Trisha was ready to go along with whatever people wanted, but she was also quick to take charge when she needed to. Tall, lean and athletic, with short gray hair, she fit right in on the ranch.