The Hidden

And then he saw it, a shadow slipping from the storage shed next door.

“Stay here,” he told Jillian. “Look after the baby.”

Nathan crept quietly down the stairs. He unbolted the front door as silently as he could, then slid outside, using the wall as cover, straining to see in the darkness.

The shadow was still there by the storage shed. It seemed to be lumbering.

He almost laughed out loud.

A bear.

He stepped out on the porch, thinking to fire a warning shot, so the creature would amble off without doing any harm.

Without warning, he was hit. A blow to the head sent him stumbling forward, tripping over the steps to the porch, and he landed hard in the dirt with his head spinning so wildly that he saw stars in the sky that weren’t there.

He blinked to clear his eyes and realized that he’d been attacked by a monster.

No, not a monster.

A man.

A man in a bizarre mask and hat.

“Coward,” Nathan whispered. “Show yourself.”

And then he knew. He’d never really found peace.

And he was going to die.





1

Colorado, Present Day

A majestic elk stood stock-still on the hill, long neck arched to the sky in the sunset, antlers large and proud. Scattered wildflowers nestled within the long grass, and the colors of the horizon were almost whimsical in their beauty.

Scarlet Barlow kept her distance, though the animal didn’t seem to be the least bit afraid of her. The elk in the area were accustomed to people who came to hike the mountainous country, the crests and valleys and little plateau where the onetime Conway Ranch was now a bed-and-breakfast, complete with a gift shop and museum. No one disturbed the elk that came here to graze the lush meadows, and the elk apparently knew that. The B and B was a mere stone’s throw from the eastern entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park, so those who came to admire the animal life there meant it no harm.

The big bull elk seemed to be aware that he was posing like a model; it was almost as if he was happy to offer her the photo op.

She snapped several pictures, paused and glanced at them on the screen, then smiled, pleased with what she had captured.

“Thank you, sir,” she said to him, then turned away and looked out over the natural splendor of the Rockies and the town of Estes Park, nestled among them.

People came here for many reasons.

One of the biggies was The Stanley Hotel. Stephen King had been staying there when he’d been inspired to write The Shining. The hotel offered both ghost and historical tours, and Scarlet loved it. She liked to imagine what the author had thought and to hear the staff talk about how the events in the book related to what had really happened there.

The Conway Ranch, where she’d been working as a researcher and curator for the past two months, had a history just as unique and intriguing, even if not as well-known. She loved knowing that her contributions to the small on-site museum were helping it to become more and more of an attraction on its own. The ranch had been founded in the 1860s, just a few years after Joel Estes had established the town and a few months after Welsh explorer Griffith Evans had opened a dude ranch in the area. Ranching was no easy matter in this mountainous country seventy-five hundred feet above sea level. And as far as the Conway Ranch went, “ranching” had long meant guided trail rides for the tourists.

Scarlet smiled. She couldn’t get over the awe she always felt as she looked at the towering snowcapped peaks of the Rockies.

She’d been told nothing compared to the Canadian Rockies, but she couldn’t imagine that any scenery could be more beautiful than this.