The Hidden by Heather Graham Page B

almost imperceptibly, but he could tell that she was scared, really scared, and Scarlet didn’t scare easily. In her day she had crawled through Egyptian tombs, excavated Native American burial mounds and explored what many might consider to be the creepiest places on earth.
    He held her, wishing he could somehow infuse her with some of his own strength.
    Despite himself, he remembered, not just in his mind’s eye but deep in his soul, the way they had somehow known instantly when they’d met that they were meant to be together. The way they had dated and fallen so quickly into one another’s arms, and then into love. He remembered her laughter when she’d greeted him the night of his last birthday, wearing a bow tie, stiletto heels and nothing else. He would never forget the way she moved against him, with him, like a sweet, sensual heat wave.
    But marriage was more than desire and even love, and they had somehow allowed it to fall apart.
    Her call. But his fault, he knew. He’d been so blind. She had known that his work was important to him, of course, and she had never protested his long absences or said anything about the late hours as he let his career become all-consuming. He hadn’t even realized that she’d slowly stopped talking to him because he never talked back, not about anything important. He didn’t see what he was doing, how much he was gone...and that nights together, no matter how passionate, didn’t make up for the things that went unsaid.
    At last she pulled away and he felt her absence like a physical pain.
    Brett cleared his throat and Scarlet turned to greet him. They had always gotten along well, and now she smiled, then gave him a big hug, as well.
    “Thank you for coming,” she said to Brett, and then she turned to the others, her eyes questioning.
    Diego quickly introduced them. “Scarlet, these are Special Agents Matt Bosworth and Meg Murray. We met when they came down to Miami to work a case, and now Brett and I have transferred to their unit.”
    She thanked them both for coming, then turned to the older couple and said, “Ben and Trisha Kendall, owners of this fantastic place.”
    “Rattled owners, at the moment,” Ben said, shaking Diego’s hand.
    “This place is absolutely beautiful,” Meg said.
    “It is—or
was
,” Trisha said.
    “One thing we’ve learned,” Matt said, “is that you can’t let what happens somewhere affect your feelings about it. This place
is
beautiful, and I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re not only glad to be here to help, but also to get a chance to enjoy the area.”
    “In fact, assuming you don’t mind,” Brett said to Ben and Trisha, “my fiancée is coming for the weekend.”
    “You’re engaged? That’s wonderful!” Scarlet said. “Is she FBI, too?”
    “No, she handles media relations for the Sea Life Center,” Brett told her.
    Diego took control of the conversation then, taking refuge from his reawakened feelings in the details of the job. “Just so you know,” he explained, “we’re not here officially, though in a little while we’re going to head down to the police station and see if Adam Harrison, the director of our unit, has managed to arrange an in for us.” He turned to Ben and Trisha. “I don’t know how many rooms you have available, but I think he plans on coming out, too.”
    “And we’re all paying guests,” Meg added.
    “Not necessary,” Ben said.
    “Maybe not, but it only makes sense. Whenever we travel for a case, we have to stay somewhere,” Diego said.
    “Save the taxpayers’ money,” Ben told him, smiling as he put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “We’re not the Vanderbilts but I invested wisely over the years. We run this place because we love it, not because we need the income.”
    “We’ll let you and Adam hash that out when he gets here. Right now, we need to take a look at the crime scene, then check in at the police station and introduce ourselves,” Brett