The Hidden

Fuller went on to point out marks at both the Parkers’ wrists. “You can see where they were bound. Bound, and maybe dragged up the mountain.”


“They haven’t found their car yet,” Matt said. “I’m guessing they were stopped and probably threatened at gunpoint. Most people, with a gun pointed at them, do what they’re told. We all play for time.”

Brett turned to Fuller and asked, “Have you heard anything about another set of remains found up in the mountains?”

Fuller seemed surprised. “Thought the local authorities were keeping that quiet. They’re looking at bone and some tissue fragments. I’m not involved. They brought in a forensic anthropologist.”

“Do you know who?” Brett asked.

“I don’t, but I know who could tell you more,” Fuller said.

“Let me guess—Lieutenant Gray?” Diego asked.

Fuller nodded. They thanked him and left the morgue, walking out into a beautiful sunset.

“Anyone need to stop anywhere before we get back to the ranch?” Matt asked.

“I think we need to get back,” Diego said. “We should talk to Ben and Terry, for one thing.”

Darkness was coming, and though he didn’t know why, he was growing increasingly uneasy. He knew Meg was a good agent, but he also knew that even the most experienced agent, working alone, could run into trouble.

And there was something about night falling...

It was darker here than he’d expected, and the forests were filled with life, not all of it friendly.

“I definitely think we should get back,” he said emphatically.

“Let’s do it,” Brett agreed.





6

“Nathan Kendall’s story isn’t unique—not among Southern soldiers who were displaced after the Civil War,” Scarlet told Meg.

They were seated at her desk at the back of the museum, where she kept her files and had her computer set up. She didn’t have an actual office, only this space between two display cabinets. To either side of the desk against the wall were bookshelves holding titles like Know Your Colt, Smith & Wesson—the First Years and Get to Know Winchester! Her work chair was comfortable, and there were two easy chairs in front of the desk, along with a few scattered straight-back chairs for those who wanted to pick up a book and browse for a few minutes.

Meg sat in one of the easy chairs, studying one of the historic diaries that was kept under lock and key, and wasn’t available for public perusal.

Nathan had kept a series of diaries, an ongoing journal of his life, both during the war and after. Scarlet had read it and found it extremely moving. She and Ben had actually discussed publishing it. He wanted a university press to take it on, and she didn’t disagree, though she knew getting the right person to acquire it and shepherd it through the process wouldn’t be an easy task.

“I can only imagine what it must have been like—felt like—and how bitter the men must have been after fighting so long and losing,” Meg said. “Losing their homes, then seeing people come down from the North, intent on making money off their misery, taking over their shops and farms and even the government.” She sighed. “If John Wilkes Booth hadn’t shot Lincoln, the aftermath of the war might not have been so bad. Then again, you probably had some toughs on both sides who were going to take advantage of the confusion to become criminals no matter what. Like at least one of these bandits Nathan Kendall rode with,” she said, indicating the leather-bound journal she’d been reading.

“Do you think it will matter—as far as finding out who killed the Parkers, I mean—if we discover who killed Nathan and Jillian Kendall?” Scarlet asked.