Krewe of Hunters: The Hidden Part 6

But even in the shower, she kept peeking around the curtain, making sure that Nathan didn't walk in to surprise her when she stepped out.

She was more relieved than she liked to admit when he didn't make another appearance.

Clean and dressed, she entered the living room. Nathan Kendall was still right where she had put him, and Ben and Trisha were talking about his merits. Despite herself, she couldn't help feeling suspicious.

Trisha turned to her with a smile. "I took the liberty of putting coffee on," she said. "Or would you rather have tea?"

"I'm happy with either," Scarlet a.s.sured her. "And no liberty-you own this place."

"But we've given you the apartment as part of your employee package," Ben said. "That means we're guests in here right now."

"Then I should be getting you coffee," Scarlet said. "And I hope you don't mind, but Diego, my ex, has three other agents with him. I can ask them to stay somewhere else if you'd rather."

"Four FBI agents to watch over us?" Trish asked. "I don't mind in the least. In fact, I'm thrilled."

"We have an almost empty bed-and-breakfast," Ben said drily. "Not a problem at all."

"They should be here soon. While we're waiting, I'll whip up omelets," Scarlet said. "I'm actually a pretty good cook," she promised.

She looked at her watch and realized that she didn't want to be alone in the museum.

And once Diego and his friends got here, did she tell him that either one or both of her employers might be a psychotic killer, or else a mannequin had moved all by itself? Even if he didn't think she was the killer, she really didn't want him thinking she was crazy.

That thought made her smile fade as she looked at Ben and Trisha.

"Any more news on the couple who were killed?" she asked.

"The police are still withholding identification pending notification of next of kin," Ben said. "But the town is buzzing with speculation. Scarlet," he said, clearly upset, "I saw them. I saw those pictures, and then I saw them. I have to admit, it's unnerving to think about something like that happening right here on the ranch."

"It can't have anything to do with us," Trisha whispered.

"No, of course not," Ben said. "But I'm a grown man and I have to say, I'm glad I keep a gun in the house, because I'm more than a little scared."

So am I, Scarlet thought.

But Diego was coming, and he would find a way to make everything right.

Now, looking at Ben's stricken expression, she decided she had to be crazy to think he and Trisha could have had anything to do with the deaths. And if they were after her, they could have killed her at any time.

Like the person who had moved the mannequin. That person could have killed her last night if he'd wanted to.

Unless the mannequin had moved on its own.

Okay, she told herself, that was enough of that. If she kept thinking along those lines she would start thinking she was crazy.

Diego and his friends would be there soon. All she had to do was hold on until then.

"I'll make breakfast," she said.

And then she fled to the kitchen to concentrate on creating omelets.

The minute Diego saw Scarlet come running out the door of the museum, eyes anxious and hopeful, he felt his muscles tighten, and an aching pulse began to pound through him. He wondered how things could have gone so wrong between the two of them when they'd loved each other so much.

Watching her run to him, blue eyes wide, chestnut hair streaming out behind her, he felt the same rush in his veins that he'd felt the first time he'd seen her. Her features were alive with intelligence, her movements the epitome of grace, even when fear, relief and a dozen other emotions were fighting for expression.

His love for her was as strong as ever, but she'd needed to leave him, and he'd never stood in the way of her happiness.

She'd gone through a miscarriage alone, while he had been on a case. In his defense, she'd never told him that she was pregnant. She'd been waiting for a special moment, a moment that had never happened, because he'd been so buried in his case. They'd tried to arrange a romantic evening, but somehow it had never happened.

And then it had been too late.

He noticed the attractive older couple who followed her out. He realized they must be Ben and Trisha Kendall.

Scarlet hurried toward the car, and he couldn't help noticing that her jeans and a blue sweater heightened the color of her eyes, which looked as clear and pristine as the sky.

He stepped out of the car, determined to be calm and professional, to keep his emotional distance and remember that she had only called him because she was in trouble.

She wasn't really in trouble anymore, he reminded himself; she'd been released. But the expression on her face told him that she was still upset about something, and he wondered what it could be.

To his astonishment, she threw herself into his arms.

For just a minute he allowed himself to pretend it was because she still loved him, and he reveled in the scent and feel of her. She smelled of the same shampoo she'd always loved, mixed with a light perfume. She was warm and soft, and it was the most difficult thing in the world to tell his body that this embrace wasn't a prelude to more.

He held her tightly. She was trembling almost imperceptibly, but he could tell that she was scared, really scared, and Scarlet didn't scare easily. In her day she had crawled through Egyptian tombs, excavated Native American burial mounds and explored what many might consider to be the creepiest places on earth.

He held her, wis.h.i.+ng he could somehow infuse her with some of his own strength.

Despite himself, he remembered, not just in his mind's eye but deep in his soul, the way they had somehow known instantly when they'd met that they were meant to be together. The way they had dated and fallen so quickly into one another's arms, and then into love. He remembered her laughter when she'd greeted him the night of his last birthday, wearing a bow tie, stiletto heels and nothing else. He would never forget the way she moved against him, with him, like a sweet, sensual heat wave.

But marriage was more than desire and even love, and they had somehow allowed it to fall apart.

Her call. But his fault, he knew. He'd been so blind. She had known that his work was important to him, of course, and she had never protested his long absences or said anything about the late hours as he let his career become all-consuming. He hadn't even realized that she'd slowly stopped talking to him because he never talked back, not about anything important. He didn't see what he was doing, how much he was gone...and that nights together, no matter how pa.s.sionate, didn't make up for the things that went unsaid.

At last she pulled away and he felt her absence like a physical pain.

Brett cleared his throat and Scarlet turned to greet him. They had always gotten along well, and now she smiled, then gave him a big hug, as well.

"Thank you for coming," she said to Brett, and then she turned to the others, her eyes questioning.

Diego quickly introduced them. "Scarlet, these are Special Agents Matt Bosworth and Meg Murray. We met when they came down to Miami to work a case, and now Brett and I have transferred to their unit."

She thanked them both for coming, then turned to the older couple and said, "Ben and Trisha Kendall, owners of this fantastic place."

"Rattled owners, at the moment," Ben said, shaking Diego's hand.

"This place is absolutely beautiful," Meg said.

"It is-or was," Trisha said.

"One thing we've learned," Matt said, "is that you can't let what happens somewhere affect your feelings about it. This place is beautiful, and I think I speak for all of us when I say we're not only glad to be here to help, but also to get a chance to enjoy the area."

"In fact, a.s.suming you don't mind," Brett said to Ben and Trisha, "my fiancee is coming for the weekend."

"You're engaged? That's wonderful!" Scarlet said. "Is she FBI, too?"

"No, she handles media relations for the Sea Life Center," Brett told her.

Diego took control of the conversation then, taking refuge from his reawakened feelings in the details of the job. "Just so you know," he explained, "we're not here officially, though in a little while we're going to head down to the police station and see if Adam Harrison, the director of our unit, has managed to arrange an in for us." He turned to Ben and Trisha. "I don't know how many rooms you have available, but I think he plans on coming out, too."

"And we're all paying guests," Meg added.

"Not necessary," Ben said.

"Maybe not, but it only makes sense. Whenever we travel for a case, we have to stay somewhere," Diego said.

"Save the taxpayers' money," Ben told him, smiling as he put his arm around his wife's shoulders. "We're not the Vanderbilts but I invested wisely over the years. We run this place because we love it, not because we need the income."

"We'll let you and Adam hash that out when he gets here. Right now, we need to take a look at the crime scene, then check in at the police station and introduce ourselves," Brett said.

"You don't want to see the whole place first?" Trisha asked.

"I can't wait to look around," Meg said.

"And we will," Brett said. "When we're back."

Scarlet looked suddenly nervous. "All of you are leaving?" she asked.

"I'm staying," Diego told her.

She lowered her head quickly, but he got a glimpse of her expression first and could tell that she was tremendously relieved. Strange. Was she afraid of Ben and Trisha Kendall?

"We need to talk to the officer over there in his car, too," Matt said.

"They had people out there for hours-pretty much all through the night-after I called 911," Ben said.

"You never heard anything?" Diego asked. "You didn't hear the gunshots?"

"No, nothing," Ben said, as Trisha shook her head. "None of the guests did, either."

"Well, we'll take a look, see what we can see," Diego said. "Ben, you mind coming along? You can tell us what you found."

Trisha took Ben's hand, making it clear that if he was going, so was she. Scarlet, arms crossed over her chest, joined them without a word as they walked across the gravel parking lot toward the police cruiser.

The back of Diego's neck p.r.i.c.kled. They were being watched.

He turned toward the stables and saw a grizzled cowboy standing in the doorway. The man waved to Diego.

Diego waved back, then looked over at the house. Upstairs, a curtain was pulled back. Someone was watching them from one of the bedrooms. He also thought he saw a face in a downstairs window, but whoever it was quickly stepped back, as if they realized they'd been seen.

Diego decided not to pretend. He waved to whoever was at the house, as well. No response.

The officer got out of the car as they approached and said, "Can I help you folks? No lookie-loos allowed up on the mountain, just in case that's what you're here for."

Matt stepped forward to produce his credentials. The officer looked at him and then at the others. "This is of interest to the FBI? Why?"

"Let's just say there's something about it that resonates for us and leave it at that," Matt said.

The officer nodded, studying them. "Don't go past the tape," he told him. "Not unless I get an official okay from my boss."

He got back into his car and Diego figured he was calling headquarters, alerting them that the FBI was interested in their crime scene.

Diego turned to Ben as they all started walking up the slope. "Tell us what happened, how you discovered the bodies."

"I had been at the stables-I'm a horse guy, spend as much time as I can there-and was walking toward the house when I saw lumps up by the trees, lumps that shouldn't have been there. It was too dark for me to tell what they were, so I walked over and..."

He paused and drew a shaky breath.

"He was a b.l.o.o.d.y mess. She was just...b.l.o.o.d.y. It looked as if he had been...cut up before he was shot. I was shaking so badly I dropped my phone. I had to pick it up from the dirt to dial 911. I turned my back to them and just stared down at the house until the cops arrived. I think I was in shock when they finally got there. I couldn't help thinking the scene was just like the pictures Scarlet had shown me, and I said so to the cops, and I am still so d.a.m.ned sorry I did."

Diego looked at Scarlet. "Tell us about those pictures."

"I don't know how they got on my camera," she said, and there was a mix of frustration and fear in her voice. "I ran into Ben and wanted to show him the shots I'd gotten of an elk. And they were just there. Pictures of dead people."

"The same dead people you saw?" Diego asked Ben.

Ben frowned and then nodded gravely. "If it wasn't them, it was just like them. One showed the guy hung up in a tree, but the other one... It was both of them, same position, same huge amount of blood. I handed the camera back to Scarlet, asked her what the h.e.l.l was going on. She saw the pictures and she was stunned. And then they were gone. Just gone. And the elk was back where he was supposed to be."

"I didn't take those the pictures," Scarlet said firmly. "And I didn't erase them."

"The police took the camera," Ben said. "They didn't find any sign of those shots, and they let Scarlet go."

Scarlet looked at Ben and then at the agents. "The thing is...well, it's strange, even stranger than it seemed at the time. I was thinking about it while I was cooking breakfast, and those pictures were like the story of this place. It was built by one of Ben's ancestors, Nathan Kendall. He was attacked one night. Whoever did it dragged him up the mountain and tortured him with a knife, then shot him. And when his wife heard him screaming and went to help him, she was shot, too. They never did catch who did it. There were several theories, but no one was ever arrested, much less convicted."

She paused, s.h.i.+vering slightly as she looked straight at Diego. "It's as if history repeated itself. He was tortured, then shot...she was shot but at least not tortured. They died the same way and in the same place as Nathan and Jillian Kendall died nearly a hundred and fifty years ago."

4.

Scarlet was extremely grateful-and still a little incredulous-that Diego had not only come to help her, but that he had also come so quickly and with a contingent of fellow agents.

She knew Brett, of course. He and Diego had worked together for years-she'd often felt that Brett knew her husband better than she did. Of course, in their line of work learning to think almost in tandem was imperative.