The Hidden

“Maybe I should put on some tea,” Trisha said.

“No need,” Adam said, just as another door opened and Clark Levin poked his head out, with Gigi standing just behind him.

“What in tarnation?” he demanded. “Can’t you people be quiet coming in?”

“Sorry to wake you, but—” Adam said.

“Someone else murdered?” Clark demanded.

“No, sir,” Diego told him. “You’re welcome to go back to bed.”

“What? First you wake me, and now you tell me to go back to bed?”

“Stay up if you like,” Diego said. “Ben, could you tell me which room is Terry’s?”

“I’ll show you,” Jane offered, hurrying past him. “He’s next to me.”

She didn’t even have to knock. Terry’s door opened as she reached it. He looked disheveled, as if he’d just woken up and was still half-asleep.

“What? What’s going on?” he asked her anxiously.

By then Linda Reagan had come down from her attic accommodations. She, too, was in a robe and looked worried. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Sorry to wake everyone,” Adam said. “We just want to talk to Terry.”

“At this time of night?” Linda asked. “Why?”

Diego ignored her and said without preamble, “Terry, why didn’t you call the police or talk to us about the fact that you talked to Cassandra Wells last night?”

“What?” Terry asked.

“Cassandra Wells. You were talking to her last night at the Twisted Antler,” Diego said.

“That was Cassandra Wells? The pretty girl I was talking to?” Terry said, clearly shocked, his eyes wide. He sank down on the ground. “Oh, my God!”

Jane reached down a hand to help him back up, and Terry grasped her hand like a lifeline as he climbed to his feet.

He might have been faking his surprise, Diego thought, but if so, he was doing a damned good job of it.

“And how the hell did you leave the house?” Brett asked him, irritated. Diego lowered his head for minute, hiding a grim smile. His partner was angry that he’d been taken, he knew.

“Back door. I was down in the kitchen sneaking a snack—sorry.” He shot a guilty glance at Ben and Trisha. “And then I got the urge to have a drink and listen to some music. Since I was already in the kitchen, it just seemed easier to go out the back.”

“We also slipped out the back,” Gwen admitted. “We were at the Twisted Antler, too.”

“Why the hell would you people slip out that way? This is a B and B, not a prison!” Ben said.

Terry didn’t even seem to hear him. He looked over at Diego. “I swear to you, I didn’t know that was her. I haven’t seen the TV all day. She was there and she was pretty, so I flirted a little. I gave her a horrible line—asked her if she went there often. She said she liked the music. I asked her if she wanted to make some music with me, and she said she was in school, but maybe she’d see me around sometime. That was it, I swear.”

“We didn’t see you there,” Charles said.

“And I didn’t see you two, either!” Terry snapped. His eyes narrowed and he turned to skewer Diego with an angry look. “Wait a minute? They were there, too, and you’re questioning me?”

“We didn’t talk to Cassandra Wells, you did,” Gwen said.

It was going to get nasty, Diego thought, and he interrupted quickly.

“We’re just trying to find out if anyone saw Cassandra after she left the Twisted Antler,” he said quickly, and then asked Terry, “By the way, how did you get there? You didn’t drive?”

“What? I walked. It’s barely a mile, and it’s all downhill.”

“And how did you get back?”

“A guy dropped me off at the turnaround about fifty yards down the drive,” Terry said. “Then I used my key and came in the front door as quietly as I could.”

“You won’t mind giving us his name?” Adam asked.

“Bennie Lipton. He’s staying at a place called the Snowdrop Inn,” Terry said.