Krewe of Hunters: The Hidden Part 29

"Are we all supposed to close our eyes and concentrate?" Trisha asked.

Gwen giggled. "Or stare into the flames and think deep thoughts?"

"Nope," Jane said. "Just hold hands loosely and think about helping those who need help-and being helped in return."

There was silence for a moment, and then Gwen whispered, "The guy who was killed up on the mountain-his last name was actually Kendall?"

"Yes," Trisha said. "Hush now."

"Kendall," Charles Barton said, and s.h.i.+vered. "I'm glad I'm not a Kendall."

"You could be," Gwen said. "So could I. It's not like we ever checked into any of those ancestry sites."

"Well, I am a Kendall," Terry muttered. He suddenly didn't seem to be having fun. "Maybe I should check out and go home."

"I'm thinking we all should," Gwen said.

Scarlet cleared her throat and suggested, "How about we stop worrying for now and see what happens?"

There was silence again.

"Okay, let's keep holding hands and concentrate on the flame burning in the center of the table," Jane said.

"Isn't this kind of a big table for a seance?" Gwen asked.

"Concentrate," Jane said. "Candace, Larry, we're all here in hopes of helping you. Your lives were lost not far from where we sit, cruelly stolen from you. If you can help us, please make yourselves known. Ca.s.sandra Wells, we want to be there for you. And Daniel Kendall...you were taken first, but we swear to find justice for you."

"Do the cops even know if Daniel Kendall's death was a murder?" Clark Levin asked. "I haven't seen anything about that in the media. Maybe the guy was just a klutz, and he fell down and hit his head or something."

The table shook violently. Scarlet had to lower her head so no one saw her smile. She hadn't seen Daniel in the room earlier, but he was there now, his hands on the table as he stood between Jane and Terry, his expression angry.

"What was that?" Gwen gasped, jerking her hands free.

"Just a trick," Charles told her.

"Oh, my G.o.d," Gigi breathed.

"Someone kneed the table, that's all," Charles said.

Ignoring them, Jane lowered her head and said, "Daniel, is that you?"

Of course, Jane knew perfectly well it was Daniel, Scarlet thought.

"If so," Jane went on, "would you kindly let us know-without doing anything with the table?"

Scarlet looked up to see Daniel staring around speculatively. He grinned suddenly and moved over to the doorway, where Linda Reagan stood and rapped the wall hard, right next to her head.

She jumped. "What the h.e.l.l?" Angry, she stepped into the room. The candle glow caught her face, turning her into an evil queen out of a fairy tale. "You rigged this house!" she accused Jane.

"Turn on the lights," Jane said calmly. "Let's see if this place is rigged."

Ben turned on the lights as the others got up and started looking around the room.

Charles was down on the ground, searching under the table.

Clark began tapping the walls, while Gigi remained in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. "Is this going to go on long? I'd like a drink now, please."

"I don't know," Trisha said, looking at Jane. "Would that change things?"

"Yes, it will put some real spirits into play," Gigi said drily. "Honestly."

"This is interesting," her husband told her. "It's not as if we had anything else to do."

"I'll get my own drink," Gigi said.

"I'll get it and I'll join you," Linda told her. They headed into the kitchen together.

"What should we do?" Scarlet whispered to Diego.

"Just sit here and watch," he said, smiling. He indicated a big upholstered chair in the corner of the room.

Daniel was sitting there, studying his nails thoughtfully, as if he was just waiting to see what would happen next, too. He saw Scarlet looking at him and grinned.

She wanted to ask him if he'd seen Ca.s.sandra again, but since he was across the room, she didn't.

His wry smile, however, made her realize that he was plotting what he was going to do next.

"What do you really think we'll get out of this?" she said quietly to Diego. "Will Daniel spur someone into a confession? Could that really happen?"

"It could, but there's no guarantee. Maybe nothing at all will happen. My guess is that the killer is feeling pretty safe, since he always wears a burlap bag when he commits his crimes. I don't think he expected any real ghosts. So a.s.suming he's here and believes a ghost is, too, he's probably somewhat unnerved but not terrified. Because the ghosts didn't see him, either. We'll just have to wait and see."

Jane waited patiently. In a few minutes the group tired of looking for wires and other tricks. One by one, everyone-even Gigi-came back to the table and sat down again. Linda reclaimed her post in the doorway. Ben turned off the lights, and everyone joined hands again.

"Communication is the key," Jane said quietly. "If there's someone out there in pain or in trouble, someone who wishes to be known, we're here to help you. Please, join us, communicate with us and let us help you as you can help us."

Daniel stepped up between Gwen and Charles and waved a hand through the air. Gwen jumped; the candles flickered.

"Stop that," Gwen whispered heatedly to Charles.

"I didn't do anything," he protested.

"Shush," Terry admonished them.

"I sense that someone's here," Jane said. "Were you murdered on this mountain? One rap for yes, two for no."

Daniel reached over to rap on the table, then suddenly stopped, his hand stopped in midair.

A single rap shook the table. Everyone-including Scarlet-jumped.

Even Jane seemed startled. Then she turned to stare past Charles and asked, "Were you murdered on this mountain?"

A second rap slammed down hard on the table, and Scarlet turned, then barely stopped herself from gasping aloud.

Jane had summoned the ghost of Nathan Kendall himself.

He looked like the statue come to life. In fact, he almost could have been a statue, he looked so solid and real.

The candles flickered violently. Nathan stood stock-still, looking solemnly over the group gathered at the table, before smiling at Scarlet.

She heard something like a hoa.r.s.e rustling, and then the rustling became a voice.

"Mur...dered."

"No," Gwen whispered. Then, voice rising, she screamed, "No, no, no!"

Scarlet realized that the other woman was able to hear Nathan, too.

"Murderer...among you," Nathan said, his voice harsh and unearthly.

"Do you know who murdered you?" Jane asked.

The wind blew from out of nowhere; the curtains rustled. The candles flickered, and two went out.

Another sharp rap sounded at the table.

The wind blew again, and the rest of the candles went out.

"Scarlet..."

Chills shot down Scarlet's spine as Nathan said her name; she thought at first that she was being identified as the murderer!

But then he continued.

"...knows... Scarlet knows..."

Gwen Barton let out a terrible, high-pitched scream.

"It's Scarlet!" Terry cried. "The ghost says she knows!"

"I don't know anything," Scarlet said quickly, trying to digest the fact that Terry, too, could hear Nathan.

"It's a trick. There is no d.a.m.ned ghost," Clark said, all his earlier sense of fun gone.

"All right, that's it," Linda snapped, flicking on the dining room lights. "I've had it. You people claim to be professionals, but this is absolutely ridiculous."

"But who was it?" Gigi demanded, white-lipped. "Was that poor Larry Parker?"

"I'll tell you who it was. One of these so-called agents," Charles snapped. "Linda, you had it right. This whole thing is smoke and mirrors. We just need to look harder to prove it."

"There's got to be a wire or something somewhere," Linda said. She began tapping on the wall by the moose head.

Suddenly something flew out one of the moose's giant nostrils.

Linda screamed in surprise and terror.

The projectile flew with the speed of a bullet, cutting through the air with an audible whoosh.

Diego lunged for Scarlet, bringing them both cras.h.i.+ng to the floor. He shouted out to the others, "Everyone get down!"

Scarlet heard a thud as a silver arrow embedded itself in the back of the chair she had just vacated.

Ice filled her veins.

She was about to rise when she felt the pressure of Diego's hand on her shoulders.

"Stay down!" Adam shouted.

Another whoosh and a second shaft hit the seat of her chair.

"What the h.e.l.l?" Ben thundered from the ground as more arrows flew around the room.

"What the devil are you doing to us?" Clark yelled from under the table. "Seance, indeed!"

"We could have been killed," Gigi said, practically sobbing.

"We still could," Gwen said.

But then there was silence. Scarlet had tried to count. She thought she'd heard six arrows fly.

Was that it?

Diego quickly stood, but his hand on her back kept her where she was. "Everyone keep low," he said in a warning tone. He looked down at her, and she nodded. With that a.s.surance, he dashed across the room, stood on a chair and tore the moose head from the wall. It appeared to be a surprisingly easy task. Plaster seemed to explode everywhere as the mounted head fell to the floor with a ma.s.sive thud. Staring, Scarlet realized that the wall had been hollowed out behind it, where the support beams stood.

"Don't move," Diego commanded everyone, jumping down to investigate the head. "We don't know if it's safe or not yet."

It was easy for Scarlet to obey his words, because she realized her muscles were frozen.

"How the h.e.l.l was the d.a.m.ned thing triggered?" Adam murmured, rising carefully and stepping to Diego's side.

"The wall-Linda tapped the wall," Gigi said, her voice quavering. "I'm not related. Whoever is doing this, I'm not related to Nathan Kendall!"

"I don't think I'm related, but I won't move anyway," Linda said.

Suddenly, someone groaned.

"Oh, my G.o.d. I was-I was. .h.i.t!" Terry called out. "I'm bleeding. And I am a descendant of Nathan Kendall. Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d!"

Scarlet's muscles suddenly started obeying her again, and she crawled over Terry. She saw a tiny trickle of blood on his s.h.i.+rtsleeve. She pulled his sleeve up to survey the wound. It was barely a scratch.