The Hidden (16 page)

“Stan, being stoned is legal here,” Diego assured him. “It’s okay. I just need your help trying to find out what happened to her. Was anyone hanging around in the street when you left, like maybe they were waiting for her to come out? Did either of you see anybody watching her last night? Did she talk to anyone in the past few days who seemed angry or upset?”

“I don’t think so,” Stan said, as Braxton shook his head.

“What happened when you closed up?” he asked, turning to Braxton.

“We locked the door at ten fifteen, when the last customers left. We don’t seat anyone after ten, but we don’t force ’em to leave if they’re already inside. So we got the last people out. I cleaned tables, while Cassandra balanced the day’s receipts and took the last charge card tips out of the register.”

“And then?”

“Then we left together.”

“And where did you go?” Diego asked.

“We started to walk to our cars together. But there was a band playing at the Twisted Antler that Cassandra liked—local guys—so she decided to stop in for a while before going home.”

“Did you see her go into the bar?” Diego asked.

“No, we were by the city parking lot. There were still people out—it’s really safe there. I headed to my car. She walked down the street.” He looked down and then at Diego. “I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t. I wonder if she’d be alive—or if I’d be dead, too.”

* * *

Scarlet was amazed to realize that she enjoyed Daniel’s company, even if he was a ghost.

She and Meg kept reading the journals, while Daniel, who had reappeared after about twenty minutes, actually became helpful, wandering through the museum and periodically commenting on one piece or another, which had the unexpected effect of making Scarlet remember some bit of information stored at the back of her mind, and that would lead her to explore some new angle, either in the journal or online. At one point Daniel read aloud from the century-old note that described a Civil War–era surgeon’s bag. “‘Last used by Dr. Avery Simpson, after a mining accident. Dr. Avery was called in to treat miner Brady Glee, possibly an alias of notorious outlaw Brian Gleason, but Glee unfortunately expired despite the surgeon’s efforts.’” He stopped reading. “Did you know about this?”

“Of course,” Scarlet said. “I know every artifact in here. But I’ve researched the possibility that the dead man might have been Brian Gleason and haven’t found any support for it. Of course, I also can’t find any reference to Gleason’s death anywhere.”

“Doesn’t that make it more likely that Glee was Gleason and did die in that mining accident?” Meg asked.

“Yes, I guess you’re right. It’s just that in academia we try to find supporting sources before considering information verified,” Scarlet said.

Daniel laughed softly. “This isn’t academia, Scarlet.”

Scarlet set down the journal she’d been reading, picked up her laptop and started keying in her notes.

“All right, let’s see how the dates connect. Nathan bought the property from Rollo Conway in late 1868. His old buddies arrived in 1869, soon after he’d married Jillian. Billie Merton died in November of 1869. The mine accident was in the fall of 1870.” She looked up. “And Nathan and Jillian were also killed in the fall of 1870.”

“Before or after the accident?” Daniel asked. “Because if the mine accident was before Nathan and Jillian were murdered, and if Brady Glee
was
Brian Gleason, then he was dead before the murders, too, so he couldn’t have been guilty, either.”

“I don’t have a date for the accident,” Scarlet said. “I’ll have to research that.”

“Does the mine still exist?” Meg asked.

“No, it was sealed up around 1910,” Scarlet said. “They mined for gold there, though not all that successfully. They panned in the streams around here, too. Rollo Conway tried that, but he never found much. That’s why he sold this property to Nathan Kendall—he wanted to try his luck south of Estes Park.”

“And yet he came back here and he’s buried up at the cemetery,” Daniel said.

“He was an interesting man,” Scarlet said. She searched through the stack of journals on her desk and found the one she was looking for. “Here’s Nathan’s description of him. ‘Rollo is what you expect to see, rugged and fit and old—yet how old, I really don’t know. He has dark eyes that contrast with his snow-white hair and long beard. He could easily be mistaken for a preacher of some kind. Rollo, though, he claims that the ladies love him. Maybe they do—he’s as fit as a fiddle, as mean as a boar when he chooses, and he talks the good talk. A rider coming through one day told me he knew old Rollo from back East. Supposedly he still sends money back to a woman and child there, though there was never any talk of him being married. He’s mad as a hornet about selling this property. He’d kick the whole damned mountain if he could, so he told me.’”

“Sounds like the epitome of the old frontier type,” Daniel said. “I guess you do get mean when you’re always fighting off Indians and bears and whatever.”

“I don’t think he fought any Indians,” Scarlet said.

“Still, can you imagine?” Daniel asked. “A lot of this area is so pristine and beautiful. But a moose—even a pissed-off elk—can kill a man. And don’t forget the bears. Not to mention there wasn’t any real law. Think how dark it is out here at night now, how the forest seems to stretch forever. Those guys had to be pretty hardy. There was no road out here or anything. Stanley was responsible for the first decent road to Estes Park.”

“Have you researched Rollo Conway?” Meg asked Scarlet.

“I have what information there is. He didn’t fight for the North or the South in the Civil War. He was already out here when the fighting began. He was originally from Massachusetts. There are records of him having property here and a bit south. I don’t believe he ever found the gold he was looking for.”

“What about the woman back East?” Daniel asked.

“I’ve never found any record of her. That doesn’t mean that she didn’t exist, of course. They didn’t keep great records back then to begin with, and lots of what they did have was lost over the years.”

“Back to the important stuff,” Daniel said. “If it wasn’t Billie Merton or Brian Gleason who killed Nathan and Jillian—and yes, I know we still can’t say for sure about Gleason—then if it wasn’t some stranger, that leaves the last of Nathan’s outlaw pals, Jeff Bay, or his father-in-law, cold as ice in any book.”

“Or Rollo Conway,” Scarlet mused. “But if it was Rollo, why? He needed money, so he wanted to sell the property and Nathan bought it. Nathan did him a favor.”

“Maybe he resented Nathan for having the money to buy it when he didn’t really want to sell it,” Daniel suggested.

“The way Nathan was killed, I can’t help but think that someone wanted something from him. But what?” Scarlet asked.

“Scenario one, it was the father-in-law,” Daniel said. “He was torturing Nathan to get him to tell the truth about his past, so he could prove to his daughter that Nathan was worthless trash. Jillian comes running out of the house to see what’s going on, and he whirls around, startled, and—
bang
! She’s dead.”

“Scenario two,” Meg said. “Jeff Bay. Brian and Bill are dead. But back in the day they stole something valuable, and Jeff thinks Nathan still has it. He tortures Nathan, Jillian walks in on the scene—
bang
! She’s dead.”

“Scenario three,” Scarlet said. “Rollo Conway. But why? Killing Nathan won’t get his land back. If Rollo did it, there had to be a reason, but I have no idea what it could have been.”

“Are all the journals here?” Meg asked. “The man was certainly prolific.”

“There are a lot of them, but I’ve always thought we were missing one. There’s a gap between the last one and the one before it. He makes references in the last one to a disturbing visit, but he never says from who it was, and there’s nothing in the previous one that qualifies. Now, of course, I’m thinking it was the killer.”

They were all startled—even Daniel, who was dead!—by a sudden
whoosh
followed by a jolting
thud.

Scarlet’s heart leaped to her throat. Meg was on her feet in a split second, her Glock out of its holster and trained across the room.

There was silence.

Then Scarlet realized what had happened.

It was the statue. The damned statue of Nathan Kendall.

It had fallen off its pedestal to the floor.

* * *

“To the best of my knowledge, everyone was accounted for after our trip to The Stanley. But I can’t swear to that,” Brett said.

Cassandra Wells’s picture was now all over the media, with the message that the police were seeking witnesses who might have seen her or anything suspicious the night before. Some broadcasters were suggesting that the Parkers’ murders had been perpetrated by the same killer, though the police themselves were keeping quiet on that score.

Diego himself had gone on camera to say that he didn’t wish to create a panic, but that all three victims could trace their lineage back to Nathan Kendall, though, since Zachary had fathered so many children, the relationship might be coincidence.

One station had interviewed the owner of Moose Pot Pie, who appeared to be genuinely devastated. Vince Guttenberg had been in Denver the night before, at a nephew’s birthday party, and he had stayed over at his sister’s house. He had returned to discover that his best employee had been murdered. He wasn’t a suspect, and he wasn’t even any help as a witness. He couldn’t think of anyone who had shown Cassandra any animosity or even any undue interest.

They were still at the police station in a conference room with Lieutenant Ernest Gray, when a call from Adam came through on Diego’s phone. Adam asked him where he was and who he was with, then suggested he put the call on speaker.

“We have a tentative ID on the victim from the mountain,” Adam said without preamble. “HQ received a call from the Asheville, North Carolina, PD. A Daniel Kendall has been missing since he headed out on vacation, solo, a couple months earlier. He planned on taking a month, but when he didn’t return, his girlfriend grew concerned and filed a missing persons report. It was difficult to do any kind of a real search, because he hadn’t told her where he was going, other than ‘out West.’ That was followed by a call from a man named Leo Piper in Lyons, Colorado. He owns a hotel there and recognized the picture as a former guest who’d planned on hiking the Rockies and doing some genealogical research.”

“Thanks, Adam. Kendall, huh? I’m assuming Daniel was a descendant of Nathan Kendall, too?” Diego asked.

“Yes, exactly,” Adam responded. “Jane and I are about to go over to the museum and check on Scarlet and Meg. Then we’ll head out to Lyons to see what Mr. Leo Piper can tell us.”

“Damn,” Gray said.

“Pardon?” Adam asked.

“I’m a descendant, too,” Gray said.

“Perhaps you should excuse yourself from this investigation,” Adam suggested.

Gray laughed. “And hightail it out of town ’til the coast is clear?” he asked. “No, no. Couldn’t live with myself if I did that. I’m in for the long haul. I want to bring this bastard in. I don’t care about the collar. I’m fine if one of you nabs him, I just want to be there when someone stops his ass.”

Diego smiled. He liked Gray’s new attitude.

Adam said his goodbyes and rang off. Gray excused himself to see if there had been any results from all the media attention and the posters he’d had his men plaster all across town.

Someone had to have seen someone or something somewhere at some time.

“I think we need to hang out at a bar tonight,” Diego told Matt and Brett. “The Twisted Antler. That’s where Cassandra was supposedly heading last night. Gray already checked with the owner and the manager—neither remembers seeing her, and if she bought anything, she paid cash. But the manager said they have a lot of regulars, plus the staff, of course. Oh, and the band. We can divide and conquer, talk to as many people as we can.”

Matt stood. “Let’s get back to the ranch, and touch base with Meg and Scarlet. I’ll give Adam a call and let him know.”

He didn’t have to call Adam, because just then Jane called Diego.

“Are you on your way back?” she asked.

“Yes, but why? Is something wrong?” he asked anxiously.

“No, but if you weren’t headed here, I was going to tell you that you should be. We’ll wait for you at the museum, then head down to Lyons once you get here.”

“You’re sure there’s nothing wrong?” he asked.

“No, nothing. We have a visitor, that’s all. Someone you’re going to want to meet.”

Before he could ask for details, she hung up.

12

T
he living room was already crowded when Matt, Brett and Diego arrived; Adam and Jane were there with Meg and Scarlet, and there was another man standing with his back to them as they entered.

Scarlet jumped up to greet Diego, her smile wide and welcoming. Then the unknown man turned around, and even before Scarlet reached him, Diego froze.

The man appeared to be flesh and blood.

But, he wasn’t. He couldn’t be.

“Daniel Kendall,” Diego said.

“Yes!” Scarlet said, sounding ridiculously happy for a woman who was hosting a dead man. “Yes, this is Daniel, who’s been trying to reach me. Daniel, Agents Diego McCullough, Matt Bosworth and Brett Cody. Guys, meet Daniel Kendall.”

“I’d shake if I could,” the apparition told them, grinning.

“Nice to meet you,” Matt said. “And also sorry to meet you.”

Diego looked over at Adam, then back to Daniel, and sighed. “I don’t suppose you know who killed you, huh? Because if you did, you would have told Meg and Scarlet, and we’d be arresting him now.”

“Believe me, you can’t wish I knew who he was any more than I do.” He shimmered for a moment, then solidified. “Sorry. I vanish now and then, so please bear with me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I can’t really see you anyway,” Adam said. “I can hear you loud and clear, though. I don’t have that extra sense my Krewe do, though over time I’ve grown able to see my son,” he said softly, then turned to Scarlet. “But you...”

“I see him as clearly as a mountaintop on a sunny day,” she said, obviously pleased. Then she took Diego’s hand and led him into the room, urging him into one of the big upholstered chairs.

He wasn’t that good at seeing ghosts yet, either, Diego thought. He didn’t want to say that to Scarlet, though.

But his abilities were firing on all cylinders tonight, though, because there he was, the dead man Jane had drawn, acting as if he was just hanging with friends on a lazy day.

“Any news on Cassandra?” Daniel asked. “I knew her, though she didn’t know me, if you see what I mean.”

“I do. And we know where she was until just before her death,” Diego said. “What can you tell us?”

Daniel went through the same story he’d told Scarlet and Meg earlier. His concern for Cassandra—a woman he’d never met, whom he’d only known as a ghost—was clear.

I would have liked this guy
, Diego thought.

When Daniel had finished with his explanation, Meg went on to talk about the discoveries they’d made in the journals.

“Interesting,” Matt said.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to figure out the truth about something that happened so long ago? We can’t even question the suspects, much less find any forensic evidence,” Scarlet said.

“Maybe we couldn’t take someone into a court of law and prove their guilt,” Diego said, “but that doesn’t matter. We can still put clues together and come up with a truth that we believe, and that truth is what we need to help us solve the present case.”

“I’ll help any way I can,” Daniel announced, then wavered. Seconds later, he was gone, leaving a frustrated “Sorry” hanging in the air.

For a moment everyone else was quiet.

“He’s really gone?” Adam asked.

“Yes,” Scarlet said.

“I guess it doesn’t make much sense for us to go to Lyons anymore,” Adam said. “When Daniel gets back he can tell us everything he did right up to the time when he was killed.”

“In that case, we can all go to the bar tonight,” Diego said.

“We’re going to a bar?” Scarlet asked.

“Cassandra told a coworker she was going to listen to a band, but it looks as if she either never made it or wasn’t there long before the killer got to her,” Diego explained. “We want to talk to the regulars and staff to see if anyone saw anything. A place called the Twisted Antler.”

“The Twisted Antler?” Scarlet repeated.

“Yes, you know the place?”

She nodded. “I have a friend who plays drums with the house band there. Eddie Keye. Nice guy. He might have seen her if she was there last night.”

“Do you think someone managed to pick her up in the bar, then take her for a ride, drag her halfway up a mountain and then kill her?” Adam asked.

“It’s possible. The killer surprised Daniel from behind,” Meg said, “but we don’t know how he’s approached his more recent victims.”

“He was wearing a burlap bag over his head when he attacked Daniel,” Scarlet said.

“Obviously he can’t do that if he picks up his victims in public,” Meg added. “But here’s the strange thing. Nathan Kendall and his cohorts—Jeff Bay, Brian Gleason and Billie Merton—wore similar ‘masks’ when they were robbing banks after the Civil War.”

“I’ve got to think it’s all connected,” Diego said. “Meanwhile, food. Let’s get into town and hit the Twisted Antler.”

* * *

Scarlet noticed that Adam and Jane were walking along the sidewalk ahead of her and Diego, with Brett, Matt and Meg bringing up the rear. And while it all seemed very casual and natural, she was pretty sure that the others were consciously making sure that she was surrounded at all times.

It was rather nice to feel so protected.

When they reached the Twisted Antler, the band was just setting up. Eddie saw her and lifted a hand, smiling.

“I’ll introduce you,” Scarlet said.

“You go ahead,” Adam told the others. “I want to introduce myself to the manager and let him or her know we’re here.”

As he left to speak with the hostess, Scarlet led the others over to where Eddie and his group were setting up.

“Hey,” Eddie said as they approached, looking curiously at her entourage. He offered his hand even before Scarlet got a chance to introduce everyone.

“Nice to meet you,” Eddie said. He pointed to his bandmates, who paused to nod and wave as they were introduced: Jack Isle on bass, Lee Bell on lead guitar and Hanley Warner on keyboard.

“Friends from back East?” Eddie asked. His tone was casual, but she could tell that he was assessing the group and in particular wondering how Adam—who was not only older, but also still wearing his signature suit—fit in.

“Diego is my ex-husband,” Scarlet explained. “He’s a federal agent. Adam—” she nodded in his direction “—heads his division, and Matt, Brett, Jane and Meg are also FBI. They’re working the murders up at the Conway Ranch.”

“Yeah, I was worried, wondering how you were doing. Bad stuff happening here,” Eddie said. “I was going to take a ride up there, tell you maybe you should go back to Florida for a while.” He grinned, looking from her to Diego. “But I see you’re in good hands. Are you guys out to get to know Estes Park tonight or working the case?”

“Both,” Diego said. “We know the most recent victim, Cassandra Wells, liked coming here, so we figured if anyone had seen anything, it might be you guys, or the staff and regulars here. Did
you
know her, by any chance?”

Eddie nodded. “Casually, from the restaurant and here. She seemed like a nice kid, kind of serious but nice. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.”

“Was she in here last night?”

“I didn’t see her,” Eddie said, “but then, I don’t see everyone.” He pointed back to his bandmates. “Hanley thought he saw her come in, then stand in the back. But she was gone when the set was over. He called that number from the TV and left a message, but no one’s come in to talk to him yet. Hey, Hanley?”

The keyboardist stepped over as soon as Eddie called. Scarlet knew him casually, the same way she knew all of them, except for Eddie. She knew him better since they’d gone for coffee a few times.

Hanley kept his head shaved—crazy for cold weather, Eddie liked to tease him—but he’d gone mostly bald by the time he turned thirty, so he’d decided to embrace the bald look and buy himself a big old hoop earring. In truth, like Eddie, he was just a nice guy who loved his music.

“Hanley, you thought you saw Cassandra last night, didn’t you?” Eddie asked him.

Hanley nodded. “Yeah.” He pointed to the back of the room, where there was a ledge with a few bar stools to the left of the door, providing a better view of the stage than the bar itself did.

“She was just standing there, leaning against that support beam off to the left,” Hanley said. “It looked like she was talking to someone, but they were behind the beam.”

“Okay, now we know she at least made it inside,” Diego said.

“I hope you catch the guy,” Hanley said. “I wish you could pretend this was still the Old West and shoot the bastard’s kneecaps out, then torture him to death.”

“Hey, don’t be shy, Hanley, tell them what you really think,” Eddie said drily, and then looked at the others again. “I gotta say, screw that humane punishment thing. I feel the same. At least Colorado has the death penalty. I hope you get the guy and that he gets it.”

Adam had joined them just in time to hear the last. He introduced himself and shook hands with the band, then said, “My agents—and the police—will get him. What happens next will be up to a jury.”

“Unless he shoots at you, and then you get to shoot back, right?” Hanley asked. “Sorry, I was crazy about her. We were just friends, but not ’cuz I didn’t want more. But she wasn’t into dating, not until she got herself through school.”

“We’re allowed to defend ourselves, yes,” Matt said.

“Well, I hope he shoots at you, then,” Hanley said. “I mean, I don’t want him to hit any of you or anything, but...”

“We understand,” Brett said.

“Are you guys going to stay around awhile?” Eddie asked. “If you are, we can try to point out some of the regulars when they show up, along with anybody I noticed in here last night. Maybe they’ll know who Cassandra was talking to or if she left with someone.”

“That would be great,” Diego said. “Thank you.”

“I think your table is ready,” Eddie said, pointing to where the hostess was standing and looking their way.

The others thanked him and headed over to take their table, but Scarlet waited and thanked Eddie again herself.

“The ex, huh?” he said, a rueful smile on his lips.

She nodded.

“But you’re not ready to let go, are you?” he asked.

“He came to help,” she said, ignoring his question.

“I just hope he’s smart enough to know what he has,” Eddie told her.

“I...”

“You’ve always been honest. You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I don’t really even have one,” Scarlet said. “We’re divorced, but he came to help me anyway, and yes...I do still care about him. And I hope you and I are still friends.”

“We are. I just hope they really can catch this killer.”

Scarlet nodded and hurried to join the others at the table.

Their waitress was there, trying to convince them that Rocky Mountain oysters were a can’t-miss hit with visitors.

“I know what they are, and no thanks,” Brett said. “I’ve never wanted eel in my sushi, either, even if an eel is just a snakey kind of fish.”

Everyone else opted out, too. At Scarlet’s suggestion they all went with beefalo steaks, which she explained were a little sweeter than regular beef, but very good.

Scarlet noticed a tall lanky man standing with his back to her by the same support beam where Cassandra had been standing the night before. She started to say something, but before she could, she saw a waitress move right through him, then pause and shiver before moving on.

The man turned and saw Scarlet, and grinned.

It was Daniel Kendall.

“We have a spy on our side,” she commented.

“I thought Daniel might join us,” Adam said, without turning to look.

“Good,” Diego said. “All help appreciated.

Their food arrived just as Eddie spoke into the mike by his drum set and introduced himself and the band, Snow. They began to play. Hanley sang lead on their first number.

The band was good, and from the way the Krewe members applauded, Scarlet thought that they looked like any group of friends out for a casual night.

She wondered if they could ever really let go of what they did for a living and simply enjoy themselves, or if seeing the dead made wariness a way of life. Maybe it wasn’t so bad even if it did. They seemed to have perfected the art of having fun while staying vigilant.

In the middle of the second song Scarlet saw Eddie nod toward a man near the front of the stage without missing a drumbeat.

Diego must have been watching Eddie closely, because she saw him nod in return, get up and head toward the man Eddie had indicated.

When the man turned, she saw that it was one of their Conway Ranch newlyweds, Charles Barton, and Gwen was sitting next to him.

“I thought everyone stayed in last night after we came back from The Stanley,” Adam murmured to Brett.

“They didn’t leave by the front door,” Brett said. “And the back door is kept locked. Guests are only given the key to the front. I checked.”

“I didn’t see a back door,” Jane said.

“It’s behind the pantry, which is behind the kitchen, and that’s behind the dining room,” Scarlet explained.

“I didn’t see or hear a car leave, either,” Brett said.

“So they walked into town?” Meg said.

“I’m sure Diego is asking them, but I think I’ll go join the conversation,” Meg said. “Come on, Scarlet. Go with me.”

They stood and headed through the crowd to where Diego was speaking with Gwen and Charles, arriving in time to hear him ask, “So you saw her?”

“Yes,” Gwen said, giving a little shiver. “We saw her picture on the news earlier and realized we’d seen her in here last night. I don’t think she ordered anything, she was just standing by the back. We were going to tell you about it, but then we didn’t see you all day.”

Scarlet stepped right into the conversation. “Hi, guys, just curious—how did you get here last night?”

Gwen quickly turned to her husband, a look of guilt on her face. “We told Ben we were in for the night when we saw him locking the front door, but then we were both wide-awake, and we saw an article about these guys in the guidebook in the room, so we decided to check them out.”

Charles spoke up. “When we were dating, she used to sneak out the back to meet me, and we thought it would be fun to do that together. Trisha gave us a tour of the place when we got there, so we knew where the back door is and slipped out that way.”