Krewe of Hunters: The Hidden Part 14

"Diego?" Brett called from the top of the stairs.

He climbed up to join the others and found them gathered around the kitchen table, where an older man who had to be Adam Harrison seemed to be delighting Scarlet.

She looked over at him. "Brett was saying that you wanted to know where Nathan and Jillian were buried. They're up the little mountain peak behind the stables. There's a small historic cemetery up there. You can hike to it, which is a long trip, or you can ride."

"What are the chances of us all taking a ride?" he asked.

"They're good," she said. "No new guests have shown up, so the horses are just standing around the corral. And," she added, grinning, "Angus seems to like you."

"Adam, are you joining us?" Matt asked.

"I think I'll spend some time getting to know everyone here at the ranch," Adam said. He pulled a small notebook from his pocket; he was obviously old-school.

"Owners-Ben, real name Bertram, Kendall and his wife, Trisha. Head housekeeper, Linda Reagan. Angus Fillmore runs the stables. The remaining guests are Terry Ballantree, newlyweds Gwen and Charles Barton and retirees Gigi and Clark Levin. The Levins are regular visitors, coming every year. I'm thinking they could be quite helpful."

"The guests may be down in town," Meg said.

"If they are, they'll come back eventually. I can rock on the porch, talk to Ben and Trisha, or interview the housekeeper. There's plenty for me to do here," Adam a.s.sured her.

"Are there enough horses, Scarlet?" Diego asked.

"There are eight, so we'll be fine. Angus can take us. Ben doesn't let the horses out unless it's with Angus or himself," she said.

"All right." Diego looked around the room and grinned. They were all dressed casually enough to go riding, except for Adam, who was in a suit. Diego had a feeling Adam was always in a suit. It was a good thing he didn't plan to go riding with them.

Scarlet's eyes met his, and she quickly looked away. She didn't actually blush, but he knew she was thinking about last night. He smiled, lowering his own eyes.

It was good to be back with her. It made the day better-no matter what it brought.

And tonight...

He had no intention of thinking about tonight and all the nights to come. Not now. Time for that later, when this case was solved. When Scarlet was safe.

Scarlet had always loved the fact that she'd grown up with sun and water-and horses.

Her favorite of Conway Ranch's hack line was Blaze, a bay gelding with, naturally, a blaze on his forehead. He was a good sixteen hands high, had beautiful gaits and seemed to like just about everyone.

Of course, she wanted to think that he especially liked her.

Angus was happy for the chance to tack up the horses and go for a ride.

After he'd saddled the mounts he'd decided upon for each rider, he confided to Scarlet, "Thank the Lord you all want to go riding. I like it here, and no matter what Ben says or what his finances are, with n.o.body new coming to stay, I was getting worried he might lay me off 'til things pick up again. So you say where and we'll go."

"We want to ride up to the old cemetery," Scarlet said.

He studied her for a minute and then shrugged. "A little creepy, but okay."

As the Krewe and Scarlet mounted up, Angus said, "Don't worry, no one is on a kicker or a biter. And they know these trails better than me. Just sit back and enjoy. There will be a lot of single file up the mountain, so keep up. They'll want to snack along the way. It's not mean to stop them. In fact, it's better for their bellies if you do. They know they're not supposed to stop for a nibble, but they're going to test you, so be bosses. Gentle bosses, but bosses."

Angus led the way. Scarlet was behind him, and Diego rode close behind her on Zeus, another magnificent gelding, black as pitch except for his four white socks.

It was an hour up, but it was a surprisingly pleasant hour. Angus lifted a hand to stop them a few times when they reached a clearing, once to observe a herd of elk, who stopped grazing to look up at the riders. They pa.s.sed a wild turkey and a number of pheasants as well and Angus gave a little speech about each animal they pa.s.sed along the way.

The day was cool but not cold. The ride offered all the natural beauty that brought people from all over the country and the world to the Rocky Mountains.

Eventually they reached a high plateau. Angus stopped and dismounted, and told them all to do the same. "Tether your horses to the trees, though. Trust me, it's a long, lonely walk back down," he said.

Scarlet knew the cemetery, having been up to visit it several times.

Once upon a time there had been wrought-iron fencing surrounding the whole of the place, which covered a bit more than half an acre. The gate, decorated with ornate ironwork, was unnecessary at this point, since most of the fencing was long gone.

The sun slipped behind a cloud as they gathered in the cemetery. The chill in the air, the sudden onset of a mist that softened all the details of the scene, seemed perfect for such an excursion.

Scarlet wasn't sure why, but she walked straight over to a large obelisk.

It was new. Ben had arranged to have it installed just a year ago.

It had been erected near the original headstones for Nathan and Jillian. Scarlet knew that the stones themselves were special; many of the graves were marked only by wooden crosses, which were periodically replaced by a women's historical society. There were also three decrepit mausoleums on the property, and half a dozen concrete sarcophagi.

The remote location made such monuments a rarity, proof that only those with money could afford to bury their dead for eternity, or a few centuries anyway.

She walked over to the Kendalls' original gravestones and knelt down beside them. She'd seen them on her previous visits, and they hadn't changed. Had she expected them to?

Presumably Jillian's father, the United States marshal, had ordered the tombstones for his daughter and son-in-law. Maybe he had shown equal regard for Nathan because he was raising the man's son, or maybe he hadn't wanted to increase his neighbors' suspicions that he was behind the murders by slighting him. Except for the names and dates of birth, both tombstones read the same: Young, beautiful, on the path to good, six feet under in boxes of wood. Let their souls soar to the greatest height, let their love rise up to the brightest light.

"Really lovely-especially since the father-in-law was a suspect in the murders," Meg said from behind her.

Scarlet shook her head. "I just can't believe the man could have killed his own daughter."

"Could have been one of his ex-comrades from the war and his marauding days," Meg mused.

"Or a madman from anywhere around here whose crimes are being replicated now," Matt said, looking higher.

Scarlet followed his gaze. They could see great peaks of the Rockies rising around them. Some had slopes where the trees were still a rich green, while others were turning, glowing with stunning fall colors.

But all the peaks were already covered in snow.

As she looked out, she saw something moving in her peripheral vision.

An elk? More pheasants?

A cloud moved; the sun rose higher.

For a moment the day was bright.

And in that light, leaning against a tree, Scarlet saw the man who had stopped her in town the night she had gone to dinner-before she'd known that anyone had been killed.

She stood quickly, staring at him. "Wait!" she cried, rushing toward the trees.

The sun shifted again. The man was gone.

"Scarlet, what is it?" Diego asked, instantly at her side.

"The guy who was bugging me the other night," she said indignantly. "He followed us up here! But, how the h.e.l.l...? Or maybe, he's the kind of ghoul who hangs around in cemeteries for fun."

Of course, she was hanging around in a cemetery herself.

Diego was already heading into the trees, closely followed by Matt and Brett.

Meg stayed behind with her and Angus.

Scarlet noticed that they never left her alone-not even in hot pursuit.

"What's going on?" Angus asked, baffled. "Ben owns this land, but he doesn't care if people come up here. People can still be buried here, if they want."

"I just saw someone who-" Scarlet broke off. "I met him in town the other night, and he was just creepy, that's all."

"The guys will just make sure he's not up to anything," Meg promised.

Angus snorted. "Free country."

"Angus, you don't think it's strange that someone who stopped me in the street and said some very weird things just happens to be up here now?" Scarlet asked.

"I think people come to the mountains because they like nature-and being left alone," Angus said.

"Then he should have left me alone," Scarlet said.

Diego, Matt and Brett were gone for a long time, but when they came back they announced that they hadn't found the man or any sign of where he'd gone.

"Wonder where he went," Meg said.

"One trail up, one trail down," Angus said. "Couldn't'a gone anywhere else."

"I saw him," Scarlet said firmly.

"Well, he's gone now," Diego said, studying her. "Midthirties, you said, right?"

"Midthirties, maybe six feet, not fat and not thin, sandy-blond hair," Scarlet said.

Everyone except Angus looked at her strangely.

She wondered what was wrong with them. Did they think she was so stressed she was seeing things?

"Is there something I don't know?" she asked.

Meg shook her head. "No. Whoever was here, he's gone now. I guess we've seen everything there is to see here, so it's probably time to go back."

Diego put his arm around Scarlet's shoulders and started walking toward where the horses were tethered. She felt uneasy again. Was he being protective-or pitying?

The others had gotten ahead of them when he stopped walking suddenly. "That's a strange plaque-very modern."

The flat bronze plaque had been set in front of a relatively new wooden cross.

"Rollo Conway," he said. "So the guy who sold the land to Nathan Kendall is buried here, too?"

"Yes. He died years after Nathan and Jillian," Scarlet said. "But Jillian's dad-who lived to ninetysomething-allowed him to be buried here. I think this was pretty much the local cemetery back then, even though it was on ranch land. It was an old Native American burial site back before anyone owned land here. The site is actually on the national historic register. It will always be protected, no matter who owns the property."

"Anyone else buried here we should know about?" he asked her.

"Not that I'm aware of," she said. "Thing is, the old records aren't always complete. And up here, the ground shifts, markers rot away in the elements, people are reburied elsewhere." She smiled. "Unless we start digging people up and, I don't know, DNA-testing them, we can only do the best we can with the records available to us."

"What about Jillian's father? The United States marshal?" Diego asked. "Where was he buried."

She pointed across the cemetery to one of the decaying mausoleums. "He was entombed, not buried."

"And Zachary Kendall?"

"He moved to Los Angeles in his later years and is buried there," Scarlet said. "When the marshal had the mausoleum built, he probably a.s.sumed Zachary and at least some of the children would share it with him. But life-and death-don't always work out as planned."

"Apparently not," Diego said.

"Come on, let's head back."

She followed him but stopped again before they reached the horses. "Diego, do you really believe me?"

"Of course."

"You don't even know what I'm asking you to believe me about."

"You never lied to me, so if you've said something, I believe you." He gave her an odd smile, almost wistful.

She looked away. His smile also reminded her of the previous night. It really had been spectacular.

It had taken her away from everything that was going on.

Now it was still daylight and she should have felt safe, but she kept thinking about the man she'd seen leaning against the tree.

She didn't know why he made her feel so uneasy. The other night he'd mostly seemed obnoxious, even if a little bit weird.

Now, seeing him again way up here in the middle of nowhere, she found him downright creepy.

"I was talking about the fact that I really did see someone just now," she said. "But it's not just seeing that man again, it's the mannequin moving, the pictures on my camera. Am I crazy, or do you really believe me?"

He looked at her and nodded solemnly. "Every word," he a.s.sured her. "And so does every member of the Krewe."

"They're very trusting, for FBI," she said.