The Hidden

He agreed.

He looked around the graveyard again and asked Matt, “Did you see anything here? Feel anything? You’re the old hand.”

Matt laughed. “Not that old. You, Brett and I have all been with the Bureau for a long time, but not even I have been with the Krewe that long. But while I’m open to finding whatever else might be out there, I believe that our killer is flesh and blood. And someone right here in the area, close to us—and to Scarlet.”

“Very close. We can’t leave her alone for a minute, Matt. Not for a minute.”

“We won’t,” Matt assured him.

“Never,” Diego insisted.

No, we’ll never leave her alone. So even if you bloody dead bastards want to reach her, you’ll have to come through me.

*

Blaze whinnied when Scarlet approached him, which made her happy.

At least the horse really trusted her and seemed to like her.

But Diego had seemed sincere when he’d said the Krewe believed in her.

When they returned to the ranch they helped Angus remove saddles and brush down the horses for the night. Angus kept shaking his head, saying he appreciated the help, he just hoped he wasn’t being helped out of a job.

Scarlet laughed and assured him that couldn’t happen.

When they’d finished and were walking back toward the museum, Meg suddenly paused and looked across the valley to the hill where The Stanley Hotel sat. “I’d love to see The Stanley while I’m here,” she said. “I loved The Shining.”

“You should take one of the tours,” Scarlet said. “They talk all about the hotel’s history as well as its ghosts and literary fame.”

“Just out of curiosity,” Brett said quietly, “but does anyone know why everybody would be standing on the porch staring at us?”

Scarlet looked over to the main house. Brett was right. Ben and Trisha, the Levins and Bartons, Terry, even Linda and Adam, were sitting there and staring. She’d noticed that morning that Adam was a great listener, and she was suddenly very curious to know what he’d found out while she and the others had been up at the cemetery.

She knew that at least some of the Krewe members believed that the killer was someone here at the ranch.

Terry waved enthusiastically. “Join us!” he called. “This may not be the South, but Trisha has whipped us up some amazing mint juleps.”

“Not bad for a New Yorker, if I do say so myself,” Trisha said cheerfully.

Diego laughed, walking toward the porch. “If I didn’t hate mint I’d have one in a heartbeat, but I’m happy to join you anyway. How is everyone?” he asked.

“Tense, nervous,” Linda said flatly.

“Speak for yourself,” Terry said. “I’m not going to let some brutal jerk—who you people are going to catch any minute now—win by ruining my vacation. I’m breathing in my heritage. And,” he added, “I’m trying to talk these guys into enjoying life with me. I’m taking a tour at The Stanley tonight, and I’m hoping to get them to come along.”

“We were just talking about The Stanley,” Meg said.

“Sit and tell us,” Ben offered as he stood.

Diego shook his head. “That’s okay. We’ve got to go clean up.”

“You look fine to me,” Linda assured him with a grin.

Diego grinned at her. “Well, thanks, ma’am. But trust me, I can smell me, and I smell like a horse. Not a bad thing if you are a horse, but...”

“Want to go to The Stanley tonight?” Terry asked.

“I have to meet a friend,” Diego said. “Brett and Matt will be with me, but I’m sure Meg and Scarlet would love to go.”

Scarlet looked over at him. There was a killer on the loose, and he thought she should go sightseeing? With one of the sort-of suspects? Even if she had Meg with her, it didn’t sound like a great idea to her. And who was the friend he was meeting? Maybe the FBI artist Matt had mentioned?

“Adam, you know The Stanley, right?” Diego asked.