Free The Hidden by Heather Graham Page B

liked spending time around them when she could.
    “Angus, hey, I wanted you to meet my—a friend. Diego McCullough.”
    “Well, howdy,” Angus said. He didn’t rise, but he did try to wipe the grease off his hand before he offered it to Diego.
    “How are you doing?” Diego asked him.
    Angus shook his head. “Bastards! Coming up here to kill people. I’m pissed off, is how I feel.” Then, as if realizing he should say something about the victims, he added, “Sorry, too, of course. Sorry as hell for that couple, whoever they were.”
    “Anyone riding today?” Scarlet asked him.
    Angus shook his head. “Nope. Ben made me cancel. Guess he wants to wait ’til they’ve got the crime-scene tape off the place. I hope to hell they catch the bastard quick.” He frowned, looking at Diego curiously. “Saw you arrive this morning with some official-looking people. You the law?”
    “In a way,” Diego told him. “We’re FBI.”
    “FBI?” Angus said, surprised. “They’re bringing in the big guns.”
    “They didn’t bring us in. Not yet. We’re here to support a friend,” Diego said.
    Angus looked at Scarlet, shaking his head. “Heard they took you in for questioning. Idiots.”
    That was one of the things she liked about Angus, she thought. He had strong opinions and wasn’t at all opposed to voicing them.
    “I’m pretty sure they figured that out,” Diego said.
    “Well, glad you’re here. Maybe you’ll catch who did it. Animals, they only kill to survive. Human beings, they kill because they’re sick mothers. Anyway, good to meet you, and good to have you here. You ride?”
    “I wouldn’t want to get on a bull, but I’m okay on horseback,” Diego told him.
    Angus nodded, as if that was important. “Can’t trust a man who won’t ride a horse,” he said. “Can’t always trust the ones who do, but definitely can’t trust the ones who won’t.”
    “Good logic,” Diego said with a smile. “We’ll see you later, and somewhere along the line, I’d love to go riding.”
    “Good man—we’ll do it.” Angus said. “And I’ll do the guiding. Ben’s a great guy, but he doesn’t know the trails like I do. Born and raised in these parts. I can show you what needs to be seen.”
    Diego thanked him, Scarlet waved, and they headed for the main house.
    “What are those two buildings over there?” Diego asked as they walked, pointing.
    “That’s the smokehouse,” she said. “It was left as is, but you could still smoke something there if you wanted to. The bunkhouse is set up so they can handle more guests than the main house can hold.”
    “Was it occupied last night?”
    “I don’t think so. You’d have to ask Ben or Trisha.”
    “I’ll do that,” he told her. “So, let’s go meet the housekeeper and the remaining guests.”
    “Linda’s probably around, but the guests may or may not be there,” Scarlet said. “They could have gone hiking or into town or something.”
    As it turned out, everyone
was
at the house. They were all in the huge dining room that stretched the length of the left side of the house back to the kitchen, with a nice counter pass-through for whoever was cooking each morning—usually Trisha.
    The giant moose head hung between the pass-through and the door to the kitchen. It was about eight feet up and seemed to rule over the room.
    There was one long table, and breakfast was served family style, with big plates of fluffy eggs, bacon and sausage, and Danishes, bagels and breads of all kinds.
    The weekends were a bit different, with made-to-order omelets on Saturdays, and pancakes or waffles on Sundays.
    When they entered, everyone except Linda, who was probably working, was clustered at one end of the table. A large coffee urn sat nearby, along with cream, sugar and a plate of cookies.
    Everyone was in jeans, except for Gigi and Clark, who wore sweat suits, but judging by the lack of actual sweat, Scarlet suspected they had intended to take their morning