“Yes, I guess so,” she said.
“Okay, fine.”
“Okay, fine—you’ll do it?”
“If you’re begging, yeah, I’ll do it. A guy doesn’t get that kind of an offer every day.”
He could tell that she wanted to look away, but he didn’t let her, catching her chin and forcing her to meet his eyes. “Just remember,” he said a little harshly. “I’m not the one who wanted the divorce.”
She nodded. “I know that,” she told him softly. “But it was never because I didn’t want you.”
They didn’t get a chance to go any deeper. They heard footsteps on the stairs, and Diego stood up quickly.
A minute later Brett walked in with Diego’s bag. “Where do you want this?” he asked.
Diego kept his eyes steady on Scarlet’s. He wasn’t going to lie, not where his partner and the Krewe were concerned. “Scarlet’s room,” he said.
Brett didn’t blink. “All right. I’ll take the other room, then. Double the security for Scarlet. The main house will have Meg, Matt and Adam, and we can call in reinforcements if necessary.”
“Excuse me just a second,” Scarlet said, rising and hurrying out of the room.
Brett didn’t say a word as he walked away to put Diego’s bag in Scarlet’s room, leaving Diego alone with the statue of Nathan Kendall.
“I don’t know your true story,” he said, feeling a little foolish addressing a life-size carving, “but hopefully we’ll discover what really happened to you and your wife, and maybe save some of your descendants. But for now…”
The painted blue eyes of the statue stared back at him, and Diego suddenly discovered that he was smiling.
“But for now, I guess I ought to be thanking you,” he said.
He left the room to join the others. He realized he was feeling famished.
In many ways.
* * *
Downtown Estes Park was filled with tourists. No surprise. Autumn was a beautiful time to be in the mountains, with winter’s potentially lethal ice and snow yet to come. Temperatures were a continuation of summer’s comfortable days and cool evenings, and the leaves were just beginning to change, covering the slopes with vibrant color. The gold of the trees, the blue of the sky and the streams, and the majestic white of the mountain peaks rising higher and higher in the distance all combined to provide a truly breathtaking vista.
Scarlet was surprised but pleased that the others looked to her for information about the area, and she embraced the role of tour guide with enthusiasm. She pointed out all the things they could do if they had the time, visit the Estes Park Museum to learn about frontier life or head up to the MacGregor Ranch Museum, a homestead from 1896 and the only remaining operating ranch in the area. She also heard more about Lara Mayhew, Meg’s longtime friend and Brett’s brand-new fiancée.
As they got closer to town Scarlet pointed through a break in the trees. “That’s the historic Stanley Hotel. If you’re a Stephen King fan, like me, you’ll enjoy taking the tour that talks about how he conceived The Shining while he was staying there.”
“I’d love to get over there. It’s certainly beautiful and shining up there on that hill,” Meg said.
“And if you have time before you leave, you really should drive Trail Ridge Road through Rocky Mountain National Park. People say it’s the most scenic drive in the entire country,” Scarlet said.
She was sharing the backseat with Diego on her left and Brett on her right. She noticed that Diego was looking out the window as they drove, almost as if he was trying not to look at her. The longer they drove, the more she felt as if her left side was burning up. What on earth had she been thinking, inviting him to share her bed? A sense of longing swept through her with an intensity she wasn’t prepared for.
What had gone so wrong? Why had she been so determined to get away from a man she had loved with all her heart? She knew intellectually what had been in her mind, but now, sitting beside him, knowing that he’d dropped everything the minute she’d called… She was starting to think she was the biggest fool who’d ever lived.
She reminded herself that back then he hadn’t been there when she’d really needed him. And she hadn’t been able to forgive that.
She hadn’t let him explain or even hold her after—something inside of her had simply closed off.
They reached the compact downtown area and found a spot in a municipal lot. From there, she told them, they could wander and choose a restaurant, and if they felt like shopping along the way, well, there were plenty of opportunities for that, too.
She pointed out her favorite stores as they walked. While T-shirts with moose, bears, raccoons and other creatures emblazoned on the front were available everywhere, she made a point of showing them the shop Terry had talked about, where everything was all moose all the time. High-end stores offered crystal and silver, while others were more family-oriented and featured mountain animals carved in wood. Hiking and camping gear, along with every item of clothing that could possibly feature the words Estes Park, were plentiful, as well. Scarlet had always loved downtown, not despite the fact that it was completely touristy but precisely because it was, in the best possible way.
They settled on a barbecue restaurant. Vertical beams carved into totem poles rose to the ceiling, and there were giant wooden bears at the entrance, along with detailed carvings of woodland creatures that ran along the bar and climbed the walls. A children’s play area, stocked with stuffed animals, was set up against one wall.
There were advertisements for the upcoming Testicle Festival, so Scarlet had to explain what Rocky Mountain oysters were. She wasn’t surprised when they all grimaced and opted not to try them.
After the drive and the walk to the restaurant, Scarlet suddenly realized she was feeling relaxed for the first time since she’d seen those hideous pictures—until she noticed that even in the middle of their own conversation, the others were listening intently to everything the people around them were saying.
She listened, too.
“I just don’t understand the police,” a man at a nearby table was saying to a woman she assumed was his wife. “Two people were murdered at the Conway Ranch, but they don’t say who they were or how they were killed. They just leave us in the dark. Hell, we don’t know whether to stay in town or get the hell out of here. I mean, were they a couple of prostitutes? A couple of gangbangers? That would mean we don’t have to worry.”
She put a finger to her lips, nodding in the direction of two children cuddling with a stuffed bear in the play area.
“They can’t hear me,” he said, but he lowered his voice anyway. “I heard they found remains up on one of the mountains, too. Just bones, so they must have been there for a while.”
“Where did you hear that?” the woman asked.
“At the hotel. Some guy heard it from some other guy, who knew a ranger, and the ranger talked to someone who saw the bones.”
“Oh, Oscar. That’s just hearsay,” his wife said.
Scarlet had been holding her menu, and now she realized that her fingers were white from the tightness of her grip.
“Could be just a rumor,” Matt said softly, so no one could overhear.
“Or there could be more to it,” Meg said.
Their waiter came up just then, putting an end to any further speculation. Scarlet remembered the young man from a previous visit, and he remembered her, too.
He smiled when he saw her, and thanked her for coming back and bringing friends. “What can I get you all? We’re famous for our moose-ball hot chocolate. Don’t worry,” he added, when Meg shot him a skeptical look. “Our moose balls are marshmallows. I’m Dane, by the way, and feel free to ask me any questions about the menu.”
They all ordered quickly, and Scarlet realized that yes, they wanted food, but they
also wanted to keep moving.
Diego went for the hot chocolate. “Have to try it,” he told her.
Everyone else agreed and ordered it, too.
“So what brings you all here?” Dane asked. “The park? The ghosts at The Stanley?”
“Came to see Scarlet,” Diego said. “Is this home for you?”
“Born and bred,” Dane said. “My uncle owns this place. We’re going to open a second one, and I’m going to manage it, maybe open a small boutique hotel one of these days.”
“You know the area well, then, huh?” Meg asked, smiling.
“Sure do,” Dane said.
Meg lowered her voice. “The couple beside us were talking about human remains, bones, that were just found recently. Have you heard anything about that?”
He nodded gravely. “A friend of mine’s a cop. They’re bringing in a forensic anthropologist to examine them. They’re trying to keep it quiet, though, what with the murders that just took place.”
“I can understand that,” Diego said. “What do you think? Should we be worried?”
Dane shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. This is a really peaceful place.” He smiled. “It’s got a kind of hippie vibe. I doubt the killer is from around here. He probably followed that couple from wherever they lived. I’m sure the police will have it figured out in a day or two.”
As soon as he left to put in their order, Meg was on the phone, asking someone to look into the third set of remains. Watching the interplay between the four of them, Scarlet realized that they had some kind of tacit agreement as to who did what.
“This is great hot chocolate,” Meg said, when their drinks arrived. “The kid in me will never get over my love of marshmallows.”
The food came quickly, and as soon as they finished eating, they asked for their bill, which Matt picked up, explaining that it was on the Bureau. The family from the table next to them left when they did.
As they walked back toward the car, Diego’s phone rang. He looked curiously at the caller ID, then answered. His side of the conversation consisted mainly of “okay” repeated several times, then “goodbye.”
Scarlet was more than a little curious as to who was on the other end, and judging by their expressions, so were the others.
“Adam Harrison,” Diego told them as he pocketed his phone.
“Is he on his way?” Meg asked.
“He’ll be here in the morning,” Diego said. “But he’s already set things in motion. The police have requested our help, and we’re scheduled to talk to the ME after he finishes the autopsies in—” he looked at his watch “—about two hours.”
“Great,” Matt said. “We’ll drop Scarlet back at the ranch, then head to the county morgue.”
Scarlet didn’t like the idea of them all leaving, but she didn’t exactly want to join them at the morgue, either.
“I’ll hang at the ranch with you,” Meg said. “Want to teach me some local history while they’re gone?”
“You’re sure you don’t need to be there, too?” Scarlet asked, hoping she was doing a good job of hiding her relief that she wouldn’t be left alone.
Meg shook her head. “I’ve been to more than my share of autopsies,” she said. “Between the three of them, they should be able to handle it. I’d like to find out more about Nathan and Jillian Kendall, and the investigation into their murders.”
“Okay. Sounds like a plan.”
When they reached the museum, however, they were surprised to find that the local police were there, along with Ben, who was pacing back and forth in front of the building, looking anxious.
“Search warrant,” he said. “They’re taking the guns—all the guns! They’re antiques, and they’re handling them like…like water pistols!”
“Because the couple were killed with an antique gun,” Diego explained to him. “I’ll go talk to someone inside and make sure they’re careful with them.”
“Did you know about this?” Scarlet asked Brett.
“No, but I’m not surprised,” he said. “He was killed on the ranch with an antique Colt in working order. It’s only natural that they think someone might have used one from the museum, then put it right back.”
Scarlet nodded and tried to smile reassuringly at Ben. “I have a full inventory of what we have. Will that help them any?” she asked.
“I’m sure it will,” Brett told her.
He went with her into the museum, where she was pleased to see that the police were actually being extremely careful. She also saw Diego speaking seriously with a man in a suit.
Lieutenant Gray.
He still looked weary and put-upon. But he was nodding agreeably as he listened to Diego.
“It’s going to be all right,” Brett said. “Diego’s good with the locals. He always gets them on our side. I’m sure they’ll be out of here quickly, you’ll see.”
Just as he’d predicted, the guns were collected in good time, along with a copy of Scarlet’s inventory, and the police left.
Gray narrowed his eyes as he looked at Scarlet, passing by her with a stiff nod.
“Jerk,” she muttered as soon as he was out of earshot.
“Gotta admit, he doesn’t seem like the warm-and-cuddly type,” Brett said lightly.
“Good thing that guy didn’t want to be a doctor,” Diego said, joining them. “His bedside manner would suck. Shall we get going? I’d like to talk with the medical examiner before Lieutenant Gray finishes checking those guns into evidence and makes it out to the morgue.”
“Sure—Scarlet and I can get started on some historical research,” Meg said.
“Sounds good. We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Diego promised.
Once they were gone, Meg turned to Scarlet. “Okay, so what have we got?”
“Reams of records, though I’m not sure how many of them will be pertinent. I have a favor to ask first, though,” Scarlet said.
“Sure, what?” Meg asked her.
“Help me get Nathan Kendall back down here. I really don’t like having him in the apartment.”
“The mannequin?” Meg asked.
“Of course the mannequin,” Scarlet said. “What else?”
Meg smiled. “Well, his spirit might be wandering around here, you know. And if so, you don’t want to get rid of him. The mannequin, though—yes, let’s bring it downstairs. I have to admit, he looks pretty strange hanging out by the flat-screen TV.”
* * *
“The bullets are in the lab, but they’re still being analyzed,” Dr. Robert E. Fuller, the ME, told Diego, Matt and Brett. “But I can tell you the basics. Handmade in a mold for an antique gun. No question about it. Handmade.”
Fuller was in his midthirties and looked as if he would be just as comfortable at a country club as he was in the morgue. Tall, fit and good-looking, he could have been an actor playing a medical examiner on TV.
But he also seemed to be competent and knowledgeable. He went over the results of both autopsies, showing them the tears in Larry Parker’s abdomen. “Looks like he was killed by someone who hunts and knows how to gut his prey,” Fuller said. “The killer didn’t remove any organs, though, just cut him open as if he was going to disembowel him.”
Candace Parker had been shot once in the chest, a fatal wound. Her heart had been nicked, and she’d bled out quickly.
“In case you’re wondering how I can be so sure about the bullets, I do frontier reenactments with some of the people from my club,” Fuller explained.
“And they were both killed with the same gun?” Matt asked. “Sorry if that sounds like a strange question, but we never assume anything. Based on the evidence the police found at the scene, it seems unlikely, but there could have been two killers.”
“No question is too strange.
I just answer what I can,” the ME told them. “Same kind of bullet in both cases, and like I said, I know the official forensic analyst has to do a report, but I can tell you right now that both bullets were made from a mold older than the hills and fired from an antique Colt. I have a few in my collection, and I’m betting it was one of the army Colts, pre–Civil War. I’d even go so far as to speculate that it might have been something like an 1849 Colt pocket percussion revolver. A lot of frontiersmen had personal molds. Not only that…” He paused and shrugged. “Sorry for getting carried away. I’m just the medical examiner. You guys are the investigators.”
“We want your thoughts and opinions,” Diego assured him. “You clearly know more than we do about antique weapons, and probably more than the police techs.”
“Okay, well, like I told you, I’m a historical reenactor in my free time. Like everybody else around here, I know about Nathan Kendall. As strange as this may sound, it looks to me like someone killed the Parkers the same way Nathan Kendall and his wife were killed. Nathan was cut up before he was killed—tortured, really—like maybe the killer wanted something from him. And the woman… I think she was just in the way. Same thing with the Parkers.”
Diego had been studying the body of Candace Parker as Fuller talked. She’d been an attractive woman in her early thirties. Now it was difficult to tell exactly where the bullet had penetrated, because the Y incision had been sewn up by the time they arrived. He noticed that her legs seemed to be scratched.
“Are these wounds recent?” Diego asked.
“Those, yes, they’ll be in the report. They look like they happened as she was dragged through scrub or thorn bushes of some kind.”
Fuller went on to point out marks at both the Parkers’ wrists. “You can see where they were bound. Bound, and maybe dragged up the mountain.”
“They haven’t found their car yet,” Matt said. “I’m guessing they were stopped and probably threatened at gunpoint. Most people, with a gun pointed at them, do what they’re told. We all play for time.”
Brett turned to Fuller and asked, “Have you heard anything about another set of remains found up in the mountains?”
Krewe of Hunters Series, Volume 5 Page 68