“I love Teddy Bear,” Diego heard Meg say to Scarlet as they joined the others. “She’s a great horse.”
“She’s a sweetheart,” Scarlet agreed.
Diego turned away and walked back toward the graveyard, intrigued by the grand mausoleum Jillian Kendall’s father had commissioned for himself. He stared at the tomb, and then back toward the bushes and forest area. He saw nothing, but he did notice the day had suddenly started to darken.
Colorado days were brilliant and beautiful. Nights could fall swiftly.
If someone had been lurking, that someone had disappeared.
Matt strode over and joined him. “I can’t wait for Jane to get here tonight. If she’s up for it, we can take her straight to the morgue so she can start creating a face for our John Doe. Even if he’s not related to our case, maybe we can help solve another mystery.”
“Sounds good,” Diego said. “I can’t help thinking that his death is related, though I could be way off base.”
“If nothing else, it will be good if we can at least give the dead man a name,” Matt said.
Diego was still staring at the mausoleum.
“You seeing something I’m not?” Matt asked him.
Diego turned to look at him. “Just an odd sensation. Like someone else is here. Think I’m sensing a ghost?”
“Maybe,” Matt said. “The dead can speak volumes—when we let them.”
Diego nodded and then shook his head slowly. “Well, if the marshal’s here, he’s not saying anything. Not to me, at least,” he said. “Interesting man, though, from what we’ve learned. Maybe he wasn’t the bad guy we’ve heard. Maybe he was just worried about his daughter. Nathan was a retired bank robber who was involved in a murder, after all.”
“True, but a lot of men took a temporary wrong turn after the war, and the West tended to be pretty forgiving of such things,” Matt said.
“Maybe, but someone sure hated Nathan, judging by the way that he was killed. I wonder if we’ll ever be able to figure out the truth,” Diego said. “And I wonder if that truth is important to our current case.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. The case is lousy with people who’ve turned out to be descendants of Nathan Kendall. I wonder. Maybe everything goes back to something Kendall did—something that got him murdered and someone still wants revenge for today? There are a lot of possibilities, if that’s the case.” Matt was quiet for a moment. “I hate to say this, but I do think it involves Scarlet.”
Diego’s muscles tighten with a tension he couldn’t dismiss. Thing was…
He agreed.
He looked around the graveyard again and asked Matt, “Did you see anything here? Feel anything? You’re the old hand.”
Matt laughed. “Not that old. You, Brett and I have all been with the Bureau for a long time, but not even I have been with the Krewe that long. But while I’m open to finding whatever else might be out there, I believe that our killer is flesh and blood. And someone right here in the area, close to us—and to Scarlet.”
“Very close. We can’t leave her alone for a minute, Matt. Not for a minute.”
“We won’t,” Matt assured him.
“Never,” Diego insisted.
No, we’ll never leave her alone. So even if you bloody dead bastards want to reach her, you’ll have to come through me.
* * *
Blaze whinnied when Scarlet approached him, which made her happy.
At least the horse really trusted her and seemed to like her.
But Diego had seemed sincere when he’d said the Krewe believed in her.
When they returned to the ranch they helped Angus remove saddles and brush down the horses for the night. Angus kept shaking his head, saying he appreciated the help, he just hoped he wasn’t being helped out of a job.
Scarlet laughed and assured him that couldn’t happen.
When they’d finished and were walking back toward the museum, Meg suddenly paused and looked across the valley to the hill where The Stanley Hotel sat. “I’d love to see The Stanley while I’m here,” she said. “I loved The Shining.”
“You should take one of the tours,” Scarlet said. “They talk all about the hotel’s history as well as its ghosts and literary fame.”
“Just out of curiosity,” Brett said quietly, “but does anyone know why everybody would be standing on the porch staring at us?”
Scarlet looked over to the main house. Brett was right. Ben and Trisha, the Levins and Bartons, Terry, even Linda and Adam, were sitting there and staring. She’d noticed that morning that Adam was a great listener, and she was suddenly very curious to know what he’d found out while she and the others had been up at the cemetery.
She knew that at least some of the Krewe members believed that the killer was someone here at the ranch.
Terry waved enthusiastically. “Join us!” he called. “This may not be the South, but Trisha has whipped us up some amazing mint juleps.”
“Not bad for a New Yorker, if I do say so myself,” Trisha said cheerfully.
Diego laughed, walking toward the porch. “If I didn’t hate mint I’d have one in a heartbeat, but I’m happy to join you anyway. How is everyone?” he asked.
“Tense, nervous,” Linda said flatly.
“Speak for yourself,” Terry said. “I’m not going to let some brutal jerk—who you people are going to catch any minute now—win by ruining my vacation. I’m breathing in my heritage. And,” he added, “I’m trying to talk these guys into enjoying life with me. I’m taking a tour at The Stanley tonight, and I’m hoping to get them to come along.”
“We were just talking about The Stanley,” Meg said.
“Sit and tell us,” Ben offered as he stood.
Diego shook his head. “That’s okay. We’ve got to go clean up.”
“You look fine to me,” Linda assured him with a grin.
Diego grinned at her. “Well, thanks, ma’am. But trust me, I can smell me, and I smell like a horse. Not a bad thing if you are a horse, but…”
“Want to go to The Stanley tonight?” Terry asked.
“I have to meet a friend,” Diego said. “Brett and Matt will be with me, but I’m sure Meg and Scarlet would love to go.”
Scarlet looked over at him. There was a killer on the loose, and he thought she should go sightseeing? With one of the sort-of suspects? Even if she had Meg with her, it didn’t sound like a great idea to her. And who was the friend he was meeting? Maybe the FBI artist Matt had mentioned?
“Adam, you know The Stanley, right?” Diego asked.
Adam nodded. “I was a guest there years ago. It’s been changed since King made it famous, though.”
“Wasn’t the movie filmed there?” Terry asked.
“No, that was Oregon’s Timberline Lodge,” Adam said.
“I think we should go,” Meg said to Scarlet. “It’s a perfect opportunity.”
“Okay,” Scarlet murmured, giving in to the inevitable.
“Great!” Terry said.
“I suppose if we made a thing of it,” Gwen said, “it would almost be like a party.”
“We might be in,” Gigi said. “We’ve been there before, of course, since we come up here every year. It would be fun to go with the rest of you, though. I mean, come on, we can’t all sit around here morosely day after day.”
“You’ll definitely have fun if you come with us,” Terry said.
“You’ll have to count me out, I’m afraid,” Clark said. “My back is acting up on me.”
“In that case, I’ll stay here, too,” Gigi said. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Charles and I will go,” Gwen said decisively.
“Sure. Why not,” Charles agreed.
“And I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Adam said.
“Scarlet, why don’t you see if you can make tour reservations there for tonight?” Diego said. “I’m sorry Matt and Brett and I won’t be able to join you.”
“What about you, Linda? Would you like to come with us?” Terry asked.
“God, no,” Linda told him. “I’m as weary of the history of this area as it’s possible to be. You’ll all have much more fun without me.” She waved and walked into the house.
“She does have attitude,” Ben said to Trisha, but he was smiling.
“That’s why we keep her, sweetheart,” Trisha said, matching his smile.
“So…six of us?” Scarlet asked. “Don’t get your hopes up—the ghost tours sell out fast.” She headed inside.
When she returned a few minutes later she was smiling. “We lucked out. They had a cancellation. Let’s be ready to leave in an hour, okay? It’s only a short drive over, but the views are gorgeous, and you may all want to enjoy the lobby before we head down to the basement to start the tour.”
“I’ll head right up to get ready,” Meg said.
She and Matt headed inside, and Brett waved a goodbye and started toward the museum.
Diego walked over to Scarlet. “You need to get changed, too. Come on.”
As he led her away, she studied him curiously.
“What?” he asked.
“With everything that’s going on, do you really think we should be sightseeing?” she asked.
“Sightseeing is exactly what you should be doing.”
“I’ve seen the sights.”
“Yes, but not with this mix of people. And it’s intriguing to see who’s going and who’s staying.”
“And why aren’t you going?”
“I have to see a man about a horse,” he said.
“Right.” Her skepticism was plain.
“I have to see a woman about a face.”
“What?”
“That artist who’s also a Krewe member is flying in tonight,” Diego explained. “If she can help us ID the remains found up on the mountain it could help.”
“That’s how you’re investigating? By trying to identify a dead man who might not have anything to do with the murders? You’re not going to grill a lot of people—the way the police grilled me?”
“I need to have a reason to grill them. You were taken in because of those pictures on your camera. We don’t have a reason to prioritize anyone over everybody else. But we will. Sooner or later the killer will make a mistake.”
“What if the killer is long gone?” she asked.
He shook his head. He was serious, the light gone from his dark eyes as he looked at her. “Stay close to Meg. She’s a crack shot, and she’ll be armed. Adam will look out for you, too, but he leaves the action to the Krewe. Be careful and listen closely. You just don’t know what insight you might gain tonight. Or what ghosts might speak,” he said lightly.
When they reached the door, Brett opened it for them. “Nice to come home and feel certain no one else is here,” he said lightly.
Scarlet had never so much as thought about it before all this started. Now she was grateful as hell to have the alarm system.
“Yes, it definitely is,” she said.
And yet, she realized, she’d looked immediately at the statue of Nathan Kendall and her muscles tensed, as if she was certain he might have moved again.
He hadn’t.
She relaxed, then felt silly for worrying in the first place.
“Let’s get moving,” Diego said huskily. “An hour passes quickly.”
He looked at Brett, who looked back at him and nodded, and somehow she read the message that passed between them. Brett would stay in the apartment tonight, while everyone else was off doing things.
A sentinel.
“Have fun tonight,” Brett said. He smiled, turned and headed for his bedroom at the end of the hallway.
Scarlet followed Diego into her room.
And she quickly learned why he’d wanted her to be aware that an hour passed quickly.
* * *
Jane Everett was a beautiful dark-haired woman in a business suit. Diego and Matt picked her up at the Denver airport at seven.
She greeted Matt with a hug and told Diego she was delighted to have another Krewe member. “So, are we heading straight to the remains?” she asked.
“If you don’t mind,” Diego said.
“Wait ’til you see what Jane is able to do,” Matt told him. “You’ll be amazed.”
Jane smiled at Diego as Matt drove. “It’s beautiful out here. I love the East, but I’m from Texas, and I do miss the West.”
“Fill her in on what we know so far,” Matt instructed him. “You’re closest to the case.”
As they drove, Diego told her about Scarlet’s call, the strange photos on her camera and the way the statue had appeared in her bedroom. He related the history of the Conway Ranch and Nathan Kendall, and also explained that the man had nearly two hundred descendants, which might be a factor in the case.
“Adam told me that the Parker murders were essentially identical to Nathan and Jillian Kendall’s deaths. But he also told me that no one’s been able to determine how the man found up on the mountain died, whether it was violence or natural causes.”
“That’s true. But if we can find out who he is, maybe we can find out what he was doing up there and whether someone might have wanted him dead. Not to mention someone out there somewhere is looking for him,” Diego said.
Jane was studying his face as he spoke. “You have a feeling it’s all related, though, don’t you? And that finding out who he is will help you solve the Parkers’ murders.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’ll get right on it,” she promised. “This has made the national news, you know.”
“I know it’s all anyone is talking about here,” Matt said.
“I picked this up in the airport,” Jane said, and pulled out a newspaper. A stock market downturn had taken the headline, but just below the fold was an article about the strange copycat murders in Colorado. The fact that the husband had been related to the husband in the original murder was mentioned, as well. So was the fact that the police seemed to have no suspects, and no clues.
“Well, the second bit’s true,” Diego said.
“Their car hasn’t shown up yet, but the assumption is that the murderer found them in town and forced them up the mountain. There was nothing helpful at the scene, either—no hairs, no fibers, nothing.”
“But we do have suspects,” Diego said.
“Diego thinks there’s a good chance it could be someone at the Conway Ranch,” Matt said. “Guest, staff, even one of the owners.”
“And you don’t?” Jane asked.
“I’m not willing to narrow it down yet. I definitely think it has something to do with the past, though what, I’m not sure,” Matt said.
“We’re working it from every angle we can find,” Diego told her. “They never solved the murders of Nathan and Jillian Kendall. I believe the killer now is counting on our inability to solve these murders, too.”
“But why kill the Parkers? They didn’t own the ranch. Does the killer have some kind of grudge against the original owners, so he’s going to run around the country and try to get rid of everyone who’s descended from Nathan and Jillian? Surely that would be almost impossible. There’s no inheritance, is there?”
Diego shook his head. “The family lost ownership years ago. Ben and Trisha Kendall bought the property.”
“So it’s not as if he’s killing off all the possible heirs,” Jane mused. “Well, I’m looking forward to working with this skull. Maybe…” She paused, looking at Matt.
“He’s Krewe now,” Matt said quietly.
“Maybe the skull will talk to me,” she said.
Diego knew that should probably make him wonder about her sanity, but after what he’d seen on the zombie case, it made perfect sense.
“I’m all for the skull talking to you,” Diego said. “I’m all for anything that will solve this case before anyone else gets killed.”
* * *
There were more elegant hotels in the world and there were more historic places to visit, and there were certainly more ghosts at other venues, as well.
But Scarlet loved The Stanley; it offered history, beauty and charm, along with the splendor of the Rocky Mountains.
They’d visited room 217, where Stephen King had come up with The Shining, and rooms 401 and 428, which were reputed to be haunted. Their guide had cheerfully told them that yes, if you were flexible with dates, you could to stay in any one of them.
They’d learned about the man who’d built the hotel, Freelan Oscar Stanley, the wealthy man who had, along with his brother, given the world the Stanley Steamer automobile. He had first come to the area in 1903 because he was suffering from tuberculosis. His wife, Flora, had wanted a home like the one she had left behind in Maine, and so The Stanley had come into existence. Flora herself still sometimes came in ghostly form to visit and play her beloved piano.
The hotel itself was beautiful, a grand white building built in the Colonial Georgian style, and their guide showed them through the lobby area and out to the majestic front porch before they headed to the next building on the tour, the theater.
Scarlet still didn’t have her camera, and while she might have snapped some shots with her phone, she was too restless. The others all seemed to be enjoying themselves tremendously, though, and she was glad for them. She tried to envision what it would be like if the murders remained unsolved and everyone had to keep on looking over their shoulders for a killer.
Ben and Trisha might decide that it was just too depressing, too stressful, staying on at the ranch, always wondering if the killer would come back, maybe for them.
She would have to move on herself, though where and to do what, she didn’t know.
She lingered on the porch, feeling a little numb. That wouldn’t happen. The one thing she knew for certain about Diego was that he never gave up. His cases didn’t always end the way he wanted, but he always solved them.
Scarlet looked up and found Meg standing next to her. Adam was busy talking to their guide, probably discussing some piece of history. The other three were avidly flashing away.
Meg gave her a curious look, then flushed and looked away.
“What is it?” Scarlet asked.
“Nothing. None of my business,” Meg said.
“Now you have to tell me whatever you were thinking, because not knowing is going to drive me crazy.”
Meg took a deep breath and said, “Okay, but remember, you asked. I haven’t known Diego long, and I only just met you, but under circumstances like these, you get to know people quickly. So knowing what strong, smart interesting people you both are, and seeing how much you still care about each other, I can’t figure out what happened between the two of you. You seem like the most perfect couple in the world.”
“Far from perfect,” Scarlet said, then paused for a long moment and finally said, “Work.”
“Yours?”
“His,” Scarlet said, letting out a sigh. “Ironic, huh, since I called him the minute I was in trouble.”
“Not ironic—natural,” Meg assured her.
“I guess,” Scarlet said, shaking her head in puzzlement at her own behavior. “The thing is, I knew what I was getting into. We met, he flirted. We dated. It was whirlwind, but we were madly in love. We were married within months of our first meeting. It was bliss at first. I adore Brett, he’s not just Diego’s partner, he’s my friend, so I never felt shut out. And Diego was genuinely interested in my job. I was working on a very old Native American site near downtown Miami. And when we had free time, we both loved horses, sun, the local beaches…”
“Sure sounds like a divorce in the making to me.”
Scarlet hesitated, then went on. “Somehow, so slowly that I didn’t even realize what was happening, things changed. First it was just a special dinner.”
“He didn’t show up?”
Scarlet nodded. “Then it was a banquet with my colleagues.”
“Because he was working?”
Scarlet winced and looked down, and then met Meg’s eyes again. “Then it was the miscarriage.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Meg said. “You were in the hospital, you’d lost a child—and he wasn’t there?”
“To be fair,” Scarlet said, “he didn’t know I was pregnant. I kept looking for the perfect moment to tell him, but he was in the middle of a case and was never there. And then I wound up in the hospital. I called and called, but in the end…they released me before he ever returned my call. I just saw this bleak life where I’d always be alone, no matter what happened. When he did come home—upset because the case wasn’t going well—I told him I was leaving, that I had to get away, go somewhere else. I was calm. He tried to make up, but I was just done.”
“I’m so sorry,” Meg said.
“He’s a great guy. He’s just too focused on what he does. I still love him. I probably always will.”
“I think he’ll always be in love with you, too,” Meg said, and then looked at Scarlet questioningly.
“So what the hell am I doing now?” Scarlet said, her tone dry. “That is what you want to ask me, isn’t it?”
What was she doing? It was crazy. But they’d been married, and it was only natural…
She hadn’t wanted to be alone.
But that wasn’t really why she’d insisted he sleep in her room.
And now they were like a pair of high school kids, eager and anxious, making love like rabbits just because they had an hour alone.
Even in the midst of this mess.
“None of my business,” Meg assured her. “None of it was.”
Scarlet never had a chance to respond, because she looked out to the broad lawn and saw the man.
The man who had stopped her in town. The man she had seen at the cemetery. He was standing behind a large family group and looking up at where she was standing on the porch.
“Meg!”
“What?”
“He’s here!”
“Who’s here?”
“The stalker—the man I saw in town and at the cemetery.”
“Where?”
“There!” She pointed. “Right behind those people.”
Meg walked firmly in the direction Scarlet indicated. Scarlet followed, ready to indignantly accost him.
But when they got to the spot where she had seen him, he was gone.
Meg stopped and asked, “Did you see where he went?”
“No,” Scarlet said, frustrated.
“We’ll find him once we’re all corralled in the basement again,” Meg said.
But they didn’t see him there.
Meg told Adam what had happened, and Scarlet described the man to him.
Adam listened gravely, said he hadn’t noticed him and then looked for him in the crowd, as well.
But he hadn’t reappeared by the time the tour finished.
“I’m not crazy,” Scarlet insisted to Meg. “I really did see him.” Then she fell silent, because the others were hurrying their way.
“I love this place,” Gwen said. “I’m going to read every Stephen King book I can get my hands on.”
“I’m reading up on the Stanley Steamer,” Charles said. “That car in the lobby is something.”
“Onward to the bar,” Terry said. “I need a drink after all that walking around.”
Scarlet was ready to protest; she just wanted to go back.
“Wonderful,” Meg said. “I’m starving. I hope they’re still serving.”
“I wouldn’t mind something to eat myself,” Adam said.
So much for going straight back to the ranch, Scarlet thought. She knew she should have been hungry herself, but she wasn’t interested in food. She just wanted to get back to the Conway Ranch and—she had to admit the truth—Diego. She forced a smile and said, “Don’t worry. There’s always the bar menu.”
In the end they opted for the dining room. The food was always good there, and their waiter entertained them with more stories of the hotel while taking their orders.
Scarlet excused herself to use the ladies’ room and headed into the bar. She was almost around the bar itself when she felt a light touch on her arm.
She swung around to find the man she was starting to think of as her stalker sitting on the last stool.
She almost screamed.
“If you would just listen to me,” he said. “I’m trying to help you.”
Swallowing her fear, she said firmly, “Leave me the hell alone.”
The bartender swung around to look at her, as did everyone in the vicinity.
“I’m sorry,” she said coolly. “But this man has been stalking me.”
They stared at her, eyes widening.
She turned back to the bar stool.
There was no one there.
No one at all.
The closest person to her was an elderly gentleman in a wheelchair.
“Honey,” he said, “I wish I had it in me to stalk you.”
Scarlet winced. “I’m sorry,” she said to him, nodding toward the empty stool. “I was talking to the man who was sitting there a moment ago.”
Then she turned with what dignity she could manage and hurried toward the restroom.