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Scarlet smiled suddenly, "I just realized-if I'm a descendant of Nathan Kendall, then I'm also a descendant of Marshal Vickers."
Maybe she didn't want to believe Tom Vickers had been a murderer because she didn't want to think badly of a relative, however distant, or consider the possibility that a killer's blood ran through her own veins.
"Diego said he's been studying the murders, too, and that he could be proven wrong, but he's never thought it was Jillian's father," Jane said. "That leaves us with one of the outlaws Nathan Kendall ran with right after the war."
"Or someone else we've never thought of, even some stranger pa.s.sing through," Scarlet said, shaking her head.
"But why?" Jane asked. "What motive could a stranger have had? All the evidence says Nathan Kendall was killed for a reason."
"The only other person I can think of," Scarlet said, "is Rollo Conway. But he sold Nathan the ranch. Nathan did him a favor, really, since Rollo needed the money so he could keep looking for gold. Why would he kill Nathan?"
"Jealousy?" Lara asked. "Resentment?"
"We've thought about that," Scarlet admitted. "But it doesn't really make sense, and it's not as if Rollo would have gotten the ranch back if Nathan and even Jillian died. There was still their son, and the killer could easily have gone into the house and killed him, but he didn't. Rollo just doesn't fit."
"Was Nathan Kendall wealthy?" Jane asked. "Maybe someone was trying to torture him into giving up the location of his money."
"I don't think so," Scarlet said. "One reason people back then suspected his fellow outlaws was the theory that they'd made a big score somewhere along the way and Nathan was hiding the money, even that he'd stolen it from them when he left them for a normal life. But if you read Nathan's journals, it's hard to believe he was h.o.a.rding anything of value."
"I guess we keep reading," Lara said.
"There's a mention here about the death of a friend," Scarlet said a little while later, looking up at the others. "Nathan doesn't give a name, but I have a feeling it was the last of the outlaws he ran with. He says, 'Goodbye, old friend; goodbye to the past. Gunned down in Missouri. I guess it was fitting. You died in what was once the Old South, just as you would no doubt have wanted. And yet you were just here with me, as were the others. How quickly we are going. You died fast, they said. Before you hit the ground. More than any of us deserved, perhaps. Rest in peace.' It has to be Jeff Bay. So if all the outlaws died before Nathan was murdered, then it's obvious none of them killed him."
"I still don't believe it was the father," Lara said.
"I don't, either," Scarlet said. "But that takes us right back to Rollo Conway," Scarlet said. "And we've already agreed that he doesn't make sense, either." She shook her head. "No, the killer wanted something. That has to be it. He wanted something."
"But what?" Jane asked.
Scarlet looked around. "Something that might still be here?"
She rose, walked over to the window and looked out. She had the sudden sensation that someone was watching the house, and a shiver raced along her spine.
It was different from what she felt when a ghost was near. It was the same feeling she'd had that night when she'd come back after a night in town and found out that two people had been murdered right here on the ranch.
"Don't think I'm crazy, but I feel like we're being watched," she said, looking back at Jane and Lara. "It's not the way I feel when a ghost is around, it's...creepy. But maybe ghosts make you guys feel creepy?"
"Not me. I'm not afraid of them at all," Jane said. "I think there's a real and noticeable difference between the feeling you get when the dead are trying to reach you and when the living are watching you, stalking you. Like I said, I don't fear ghosts, but I definitely fear the living."
"She's right," Lara said. "Ghosts-they're just lost souls and they need help. But the living...yeah. They can be terrifying."
"They can be the true monsters," Jane said, joining Scarlet at the window. "Unfortunately, I think it's very likely that we are being watched."
Lara joined them, shuddered and said, "By the living."
Diego and Brett walked all along the streets of downtown Estes Park and spoke to dozens of people.
"I thought I heard a scuffle," the owner of Louie's Lounge, Louis Richmond, told them.
"Where? Where did you hear it?" Diego demanded.
"I was on my way to my car, and I was coming up on the alley a few doors down from here," Richmond said.
"Did you see anyone?" Brett asked.
"No, I looked when I got there, but it was dark, and there's a Dumpster in the way. I figured it was just a cat going after a rat or something."
They thanked him and left, hurrying toward the alley in question. It was the same alley Ca.s.sandra had mentioned, and they'd been saving it for last, but now, with Richmond's confirmation, there was no reason to wait any longer before checking it out.
"So," Brett said, "Ca.s.sandra left the Twisted Antler and pa.s.sed this alley on her way to her car. Whoever grabbed her knew she would be coming this way. He was ready."
"And since people would notice a guy wearing a bag over his head, he had everything timed and didn't put it on 'til the last minute. And that strongly suggests he's familiar with the area and knows exactly where to hide if need be."
"Yeah, like this d.a.m.n alley," Brett said.
They began searching it inch by inch. They'd been at it for nearly an hour when something caught on a brick facade snagged Diego's attention. "Check this out," he said.
"What?" Brett asked, walking over to join him.
Diego inspected the tiny fragment of material he'd found caught on the brick, then looked over at Brett. "Burlap," he said. "I think we've just found part of the killer's mask."
"I think it's time for Lara and Scarlet to leave," Diego said, taking his seat at Scarlet's kitchen table.
Matt and Meg were still gone, but they weren't expected back until later, probably not until the seance was long over.
Scarlet ordered pizza for dinner, and when it had arrived, she realized that the delivery boy was scared and eager to get away as quickly as possible. Obviously the Conway Ranch had quickly gained an unenviable reputation. She had sympathized, tipped him well and hoped, for Ben's and Trisha's sakes, that reputations could be unmade just as quickly.
Everything-pizza, salad and cold drinks-had been ready when Brett and Diego returned. Diego had told them right away about the sc.r.a.p of burlap, which had already been sent to the lab for a.n.a.lysis.
She hadn't expected such news, much less his announcement sending her away, and she suddenly felt as if they were in a war zone, and she and Lara were noncombatants who had to be evacuated as quickly as possible for their own safety.
She was ready at first to plunge right into an argument-what could happen to her when she was surrounded by agents? She even thought about getting personal and pointing out that Diego's macho determination to be chauvinistically protective of her-when he'd actually been home, that is-had helped to end their marriage.
Except that it wasn't true. Not really. His way of keeping her out of danger hadn't been by bullying, but rather, was his silence.
She suddenly envied Meg for being an agent. Jane, too. No one was sending them away.
The thing was, Scarlet realized, she had no death wish. But neither did she wish to leave. She was in this up to the gills. The ghosts had come to her.
She poured iced tea into a gla.s.s and looked at Diego. "Let's discuss this," she said. "The thing is, the ghosts come to me. If I leave, they might leave, too, and you need them. Plus, when I'm here, I'm with you and the rest of the Krewe, and you can keep me safe. If I leave, I'll be a walking target, because we don't know that the killer's limiting his murders to Estes Park." She met Diego's eyes with all the firmness she could muster. "You need me here."
Brett looked at Lara, who shook her head stubbornly. "I've already been through the wringer. If you're here, if Diego and the others are here, I need to be here, too."
"The killer has been targeting Nathan Kendall's descendants," Diego said flatly. "And that puts you in the line of fire."
"And we both want the killer stopped," Scarlet said, an edge to her tone. "So I'm not going anywhere."
Tension hung in the air.
"Love the pizza," Jane said enthusiastically, and everyone turned to stare. "Who knew Colorado had such great pizza?"
Scarlet knew Jane was just trying to lighten the mood-not to mention change the subject-but she wouldn't let herself be distracted and continued to stare at Diego across the table.
"We can discuss it after the seance," he finally said, then excused himself and headed down the hall toward Scarlet's bedroom.
She excused herself, too, and followed him.
She burst into her room to find Diego standing by the window, looking out on the stables. He turned to face her.
"You're not being logical," he told her. "This killer is after descendants of Nathan Kendall. You or Ben or Gray or Terry could be next."
"But you're here," she said.
"This is what I do, Scarlet."
"But that doesn't make you immune to danger. And it doesn't mean that you can protect the rest of the world from everything that could go wrong. Things happen. Bad things. But I can't hide from who I am and, even more important, don't want to hide from it. I know this place, Diego. I know its history. Yes, I'm afraid, but I still believe I have to be here."
He shook his head. "Jane told me that you felt you were being watched today. And it's likely that someone was watching you. Watching to see if you left-and if you left alone."
"I wish she hadn't told you. It was probably nothing."
"We're Krewe and this is a murder investigation. She had to tell me," he said.
"I understand that. I really do. But I don't care. I still wish she hadn't said anything."
He let out a soft groan of aggravation and walked over to her, taking her by the shoulders. His eyes were dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Scarlet, I didn't want what happened between us, but I'm okay as long as I know you're out there in the world somewhere, alive and happy."
She looked up at him. "What if the alive-and-happy part included you?"
He froze, startled. "Scarlet," he said finally, "you were the one who filed for the divorce."
"I never really wanted to. I know you thought it was your work, but it wasn't. It was the fact that you never shared your life, not really. I didn't want to be protected from it, I wanted to be part of it. So please don't push me away now-especially since this situation includes me."
"I don't want you to become one of the ghosts of Estes Park!" Diego said.
There was a tap at the door. "Yes?" Diego said, still staring at her.
She heard Brett clear his throat before he said, "It's time. We need to head over."
Scarlet realized that the sun was rapidly falling.
"All right, we're ready," Diego said.
He released his hold on her and walked to the door.
Scarlet was suddenly struck by the way the dying sun lit the stables. She walked to the window and stared out at the ranch that was her home. She was in the midst of such beauty, here on the mountaintop. She could see the rise that led up the mountain to the cemetery. Along the way, she knew, were streams and a few old shafts where miners had searched, mostly futilely, for gold.
Diego was frowning, waiting for her at the door.
"We think it's possible that Rollo Conway killed Nathan Kendall," she said. "We just don't know why."
"What?"
"Process of elimination, with help from the diaries. It wasn't one of his fellow outlaws, because they all died before he did, so it looks like the mask is a coincidence, not a lead. And it wasn't Jillian's father. We found the eulogy he wrote to his daughter, and I just don't think he could have done it. That leaves Rollo. What if...?" She paused as an idea formed in her head, then went on. "Okay, Rollo sold this place so he could afford to search for gold on his property to the south. What if he wanted this place back because he still thought there was gold here, so he killed Nathan and Jillian? We kept getting stuck on the fact that even if they were dead, their son would inherit. But Rollo hadn't been living around here for years. What if he didn't know about the baby, so he figured the property would be forfeit and he could homestead it? Or maybe he thought it would go up for sale and he had just enough money to buy it."
"But by law Marshal Vickers would have inherited."
She stopped for a moment, stymied, then said, "Rollo wouldn't have cared. Vickers didn't live here, and he was off doing his marshal thing all the time anyway. That would have left Rollo Conway free to explore and find the gold he thought was here. Maybe he even believed Nathan had already found the gold, and he tortured him to get him to say where it was. There's nothing in the journals to indicate Nathan even looked for gold, much less found it, but Rollo didn't know that."
She walked over to him to be sure she had his full attention. "I think we've had it all wrong, Diego. We thought we might be looking for someone related to Nathan, but I think we need to be looking for a descendant of Rollo Conway."
15.
Night came quickly, with a rich deep color that seemed to wrap the house and grounds like a mysterious blanket.
Darkness reigned, except for a glimmer of moonlight playing over the mountaintop. The forest seemed filled with shadows, and the wind moaned as it found its way through the trees.
They reached the main house to find the candles had been lit and the lights were low, and with the mountain now in darkness, the city of Estes Park shone like a beacon from below. An aura of something magical pervaded the old ranch house.
A clock struck the appointed time, and the seance began.
Jane had gathered them around the dining room table, the moose head looking down on them with an expression Scarlet found unreadable in the flickering shadows.
There were eleven of them: Jane at the head of the table, and then, moving around the table clockwise, Ben and Trisha, Adam, Gigi and Clark, Diego and Scarlet, Gwen and Charles, and finally, completing the circle, Terry. As she'd said she would, Linda stood in the doorway, quietly watching.
Scarlet had seen the dead before, but this situation felt very different.
It was dark, for one thing. The brightness of the candle flames rendered everything beyond their reach so dark as to be stygian.
There was an edginess, a tension, that was palpable about the table. On the one hand, most of them were amused and even felt a bit silly. But on the other hand, they were also nervous, even those who didn't believe were somehow touched by the power of the moment.
Even Jane's face-usually so beautiful and animated-seemed different. There was something eerie in the way the candlelight caught her reflection.
Scarlet couldn't help thinking that she was about to announce that someone among them had been stricken by the curse of the werewolf.
But Jane didn't speak like some gypsy in a horror movie. She smiled at everyone and said, "None of us knows what, if anything, we may learn here tonight. But so far, every clue we have leads to a dead end. The purpose of a seance is to connect-to connect with the dead. I know that many of you at this table doubt the possibility of such a thing, even thinking about the dead creates a connection with them. And of course, beyond connection and communication, we want justice for them, so even though we may not connect with the dead, we may connect with our own deepest thoughts and memories, and come up with an idea that could help in the quest for truth."
"We didn't even know the Parkers," Gigi said, shaking her head as if she felt she had truly been drawn into insanity.