The Hidden

“This is Colorado,” Hanley said. “I pack a legal gun, and I was in the marines, so I know what I’m doing. I can watch out for us.”


Diego backed away to stand with Adam and the rest of the Krewe, checking out the crowd. The manager, a heavyset man of about fifty, urged people to go back inside. “Calm down, everyone, and let’s head back in. It was probably just a homeless man, but not to worry. We have federal agents in the house tonight, and they’re on it.”

He walked over to talk to Scarlet. She’d been at the Twisted Antler often enough that they knew each other by sight.

“You all right?” he asked her.

“Fine. I’m sorry I scared everyone half to death.”

“Can’t be too careful, not with what’s been going on lately,” he said, then flashed a smile at Adam. “Nice to have you guys around. I think it will be good for business.”

“Let’s get everyone back inside,” Adam suggested. “Eddie, if the band could start playing again right away, that would be a big help.”

“Not a problem,” Eddie said, and gestured to the rest of the group to follow him in.

Only when everyone but the Krewe was gone did Diego slip an arm around Scarlet’s shoulders and ask, “What did you really see?”

“A woman,” she said. “Lying there in a pool of blood with nothing left of her face. I don’t know why, but I think it was Cassandra.”

“What the hell were you doing coming out here anyway?” Diego demanded.

“What?” Scarlet asked, startled. “I—I wanted to ask Eddie and the guys to talk to Gwen and Charles.”

“I don’t care. Don’t do anything like that again, Scarlet. I meant it when I said one of us will be with you at all times, but you have to make that possible for us!”

His tone was hard. She knew he’d been frightened for her, so she tried not to let her temper snap, without much success.

“Sorry,” she said tightly. “Next time I imagine I see a butchered corpse, I’ll try not to scream.”

“I know how awful it is to see things like that,” Jane said to her. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“But it could end up helping us,” Meg said.

“I don’t see how,” Scarlet said.

“We never know what may end up meaning something in the end,” Adam said gently. “That’s the challenge of what we do.”

“I can feel her,” a shaky male voice said suddenly.

Scarlet jumped at the sound, and Diego’s arm tightened around her shoulders.

She whirled around to see that the speaker was Daniel Kendall, though he didn’t appear as solid as he had earlier. She could see through him to the green Dumpster.

“I feel her presence,” he said. “I think she needs help. She’s trying to reach us.”

“Can’t she speak to you?” Scarlet asked. “You know, because you’re both...ghosts?”

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t know. I just feel something of her, you know—like when a woman has passed by you and you can still smell her perfume in the air.” He looked at her. “It’s something about you, Scarlet. I knew I had to reach you, maybe Cassandra feels the same way. I don’t know why. Maybe she’s afraid for you, too.”

“Daniel,” Adam said, “you may be onto something. But for now, we need to head back in before people start worrying that something bad really did happen out here.”

They said goodbye to the ghost, walked back in and headed to their table. Scarlet had worried that she might have ruined the evening for everyone. Instead, she had apparently turned a roomful of strangers into best friends.

They were all talking about what had happened. Then a young red-haired woman hurried over to Adam. “Sir, I think I saw the dead woman last night—I mean, she wasn’t dead then, but...you know. She was talking with a man. Maybe he was the same man your friend saw out in the alley,” she said, nodding toward Scarlet.

“Can you describe him?” Adam asked.

“Thirty, thirty-five,” the redhead said. “Nice-looking, friendly smile.”

Jane said, “If you can describe him a little more fully, I can sketch him.”

“Really?” the redhead asked.