The Hidden

Meg, sitting across from her, was doing the same.

Daniel, who was clearly getting better at the art of visibility, was walking around, checking out all the artifacts in the museum.

Meg and Daniel both turned to look at her and said in tandem, “What?”

“We can cross one suspect off the list,” Scarlet said.

“In my murder?” Daniel asked her.

She looked over at him and shook her head. “Daniel, you know that the police and the Krewe are working on that. I’m going at it from another angle, trying to find out who killed Nathan, on the theory that there’s a connection between the deaths then and the deaths now.”

“So you found out who didn’t kill him. Wonderful,” Daniel said.

“Process of elimination,” Meg said.

“And what’s this crew business? I thought the FBI was divided up into units?”

“Not that kind of crew,” Meg said. “It’s Krewe with a K, like the Mardi Gras krewes in New Orleans.”

“I was in a Mardi Gras krewe once, back in college. My frat went down for it. One of the best times I ever had,” Daniel said.

“Our Krewe is a special FBI unit formed by a man named Adam Harrison, who brought together a group of agents who, like me, can see ghosts like you. He needed them to work a haunted-house case in New Orleans, and the Krewe name just seemed right,” Meg explained. “But much more important right now, Scarlet, what did you find?”

“Billie did die here about three weeks after he and the others arrived. They had a funeral and buried him in the cemetery up the mountain. There’s no marker for him now, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t one then. He probably had a cross that’s long gone now, and the historical society must not know about him, so they never put up a new one.”

“So that guy didn’t kill Nathan. And that’s important how?” Daniel asked.

“Process of elimination,” Meg said again. “So what did you do for a living, Daniel?”

He grinned. “Tour guide. I took people hiking up in the Blue Ridge. I was pretty damned good, too.” He paused. “Not good enough to hear a murderer sneak up behind me, though.”

Instinctively, Scarlet stood and walked over to him—and then awkwardly realized that she couldn’t put an arm around his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

He nodded. “Yeah, so I am. I wish I’d met you while I was alive.” There was something wistful in his eyes.

She smiled and realized that she probably would have liked him. “We’ll find out what’s going on,” she promised.

“I read up on him, you know,” Daniel said.

“Pardon?” Scarlet asked.

He pointed to the statue of Nathan Kendall. “Our however-many greats grandfather. I know he became an outlaw after the war, but he had a moral compass and got out when he realized what was happening. And then he came out here and found a little piece of heaven. And love.” He shook his head sadly, looking so real and solid that Scarlet could have sworn she could reach out and touch him. “It must have killed his soul, seeing Jillian killed, too.”

“Yes, I’m sure it did,” Scarlet said.

Suddenly Meg’s phone rang. Scarlet almost jumped, then walked over to listen.

All she heard at first was “I see,” followed by “How sad.” A minute later Meg glanced at Scarlet with a grin. “Yes, we’re fine, and we’ve taken a few steps forward here, too. You’ll see when you get here.”

She hung up, and her expression grew somber again. “The dead woman was named Cassandra Wells. She moved to the area not long ago because—”

“Because she’s a descendant of Nathan Kendall,” Daniel interrupted.