Krewe of Hunters Series, Volume 5
Heather Graham
Join New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham’s Krewe of Hunters, an elite FBI unit of paranormal investigators, as they’re called in to investigate when cases take a turn for the strange and there are no earthly leads…
THE SILENCED
A congressman’s media assistant suddenly quits her job—and disappears. Bodies fitting her description are showing up in nearby rivers… Could she be the victim of a serial killer? Novice FBI agent Meg Murray is assigned to work with special agent Matt Bosworth, a hard-nosed pro in the Krewe of Hunters. They trace a route through battlefields and graveyards from Harpers Ferry to Gettysburg. Places where the dead share their secrets with those who can hear… When Meg and Matt find themselves in the middle of a political conspiracy, whom—besides each other—can they trust?
THE FORGOTTEN
When a Miami woman is murdered—apparently by her presumed-dead husband—rumors of crazed zombies abound in the media, and the Krewe of Hunters is assigned. FBI agent Brett Cody can’t help but feel responsible, since he was supposed to protect the man and his wife. Nearby, Lara Mayhew is working at a dolphin research facility. She loves her new job…until a dolphin brings her attention to a dismembered human corpse. Soon Brett and Lara find themselves working with the Krewe, and working closely together. An elderly crime boss who’s losing his memory seems to be key to solving this case, but there’s no motive. Unless Brett and Lara can uncover one in the Miami underworld. And that means they have to protect themselves—and each other.
THE HIDDEN
Historian Scarlet Barlow is trying to rebuild after her divorce by working at a small museum attached to a B and B in Estes Park, Colorado. It’s the site of an unsolved murder dating from just after the Civil War. When Scarlet unwittingly takes pictures of people who’ve been murdered in the same manner as the past crime, the police look at her with suspicion. Can the same killer strike again—a hundred and fifty years later? Then the museum’s statues of historic people begin to talk to her, and she knows it’s time to call her ex-husband, FBI agent Diego McCullough—who’s just been asked to join the Krewe of Hunters. Diego heads to Estes Park, determined to solve the bizarre case that threatens Scarlet’s life…and to reunite with the woman he never stopped loving.
Also by Heather Graham
DARKEST JOURNEY
DEADLY FATE
HAUNTED DESTINY
FLAWLESS
THE HIDDEN
THE FORGOTTEN
THE SILENCED
THE DEAD PLAY ON
THE BETRAYED
THE HEXED
THE CURSED
WAKING THE DEAD
THE NIGHT IS FOREVER
THE NIGHT IS ALIVE
THE NIGHT IS WATCHING
LET THE DEAD SLEEP
THE UNINVITED
THE UNSPOKEN
THE UNHOLY
THE UNSEEN
AN ANGEL FOR CHRISTMAS
THE EVIL INSIDE
SACRED EVIL
HEART OF EVIL
PHANTOM EVIL
NIGHT OF THE VAMPIRES
THE KEEPERS
GHOST MOON
GHOST NIGHT
GHOST SHADOW
THE KILLING EDGE
NIGHT OF THE WOLVES
HOME IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS
UNHALLOWED GROUND
DUST TO DUST
NIGHTWALKER
DEADLY GIFT
DEADLY HARVEST
DEADLY NIGHT
THE DEATH DEALER
THE LAST NOEL
THE SÉANCE
BLOOD RED
THE DEAD ROOM
KISS OF DARKNESS
THE VISION
THE ISLAND
GHOST WALK
KILLING KELLY
THE PRESENCE
DEAD ON THE DANCE FLOOR
PICTURE ME DEAD
HAUNTED
HURRICANE BAY
A SEASON OF MIRACLES
NIGHT OF THE BLACKBIRD
NEVER SLEEP WITH STRANGERS
EYES OF FIRE
SLOW BURN
NIGHT HEAT
Look for Heather Graham’s next novel
A PERFECT OBSESSION
available soon from MIRA Books
Krewe of Hunters Series Volume 5
The Silenced
The Forgotten
The Hidden
Heather Graham
Table of Contents
The Silenced
By Heather Graham
The Forgotten
By Heather Graham
The Hidden
By Heather Graham
Where is Lara Mayhew?
Lara, a congressman’s media assistant, suddenly quits her job—and disappears on the way to her Washington, DC, apartment.
Novice FBI agent Meg Murray, a childhood friend of Lara’s, gets a message from her that same night, a message that says she’s disillusioned and “going home.” To Richmond, Virginia. Meg discovers that she never got there. And bodies fitting Lara’s description are showing up in nearby rivers… Could she be the victim of a serial killer?
Meg is assigned to work with special agent Matt Bosworth, a hard-nosed pro in the FBI’s unit of paranormal investigators—the Krewe of Hunters. They trace the route Meg and Lara took more than once in the past, visiting battlefields and graveyards from Harpers Ferry to Gettysburg. Places where the dead share their secrets with those who can hear… As Meg and Matt pursue the possibility of a serial killer, they find themselves in the middle of a political conspiracy. Is there a connection? If so, has Lara been silenced for good? And whom—besides each other—can they trust?
Praise for the novels of New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham
“[Waking the Dead is] not to be missed.”
—BookTalk
“Dark, dangerous and deadly! Graham has the uncanny ability to bring her books to life, using exceptionally vivid details to add depth to all the people and places.”
—RT Book Reviews on Waking the Dead, *Top Pick*
“Murder, intrigue…a fast-paced read. You may never know in advance what harrowing situations Graham will place her characters in, but…rest assured that the end result will be satisfying.”
—Suspense Magazine on Let the Dead Sleep
“Graham deftly weaves elements of mystery, the paranormal and romance into a tight plot that will keep the reader guessing at the true nature of the killer’s evil.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Unseen
“I’ve long admired Heather Graham’s storytelling ability and this book hit the mark. I couldn’t put The Unholy down.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Suspenseful and dark.… The transitions between past and present flow seamlessly, and the main characters are interesting and their connection to one another is believable.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Unseen
“Graham does a great job of blending just a bit of paranormal with real, human evil.”
—Miami Herald on Unhallowed Ground
Also by HEATHER GRAHAM
THE DEAD PLAY ON
THE BETRAYED
THE HEXED
THE CURSED
WAKING THE DEAD
THE NIGHT IS FOREVER
THE NIGHT IS ALIVE
THE NIGHT IS WATCHING
LET THE DEAD SLEEP
THE UNINVITED
THE UNSPOKEN
THE UNHOLY
THE UNSEEN
AN ANGEL FOR CHRISTMAS
THE EVIL INSIDE
SACRED EVIL
HEART OF EVIL
PHANTOM EVIL
NIGHT OF THE VAMPIRES
THE KEEPERS
GHOST MOON
GHOST NIGHT
GHOST SHADOW
THE KILLING EDGE
NIGHT OF THE WOLVES
HOME IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS
UNHALLOWED GROUND
DUST TO DUST
NIGHTWALKER
DEADLY GIFT
DEADLY HARVEST
DEADLY NIGHT
THE DEATH DEALER
THE LAST NOEL
THE SÉANCE
BLOOD RED
THE DEAD ROOM
KISS OF DARKNESS
THE VISION
THE ISLAND
GHOST WALK
KILLING KELLY
THE PRESENCE
DEAD ON THE DANCE FLOOR
PICTURE ME DEAD
HAUNTED
HURRICANE BAY
A SEASON OF MIRACLES
NIGHT OF THE BLACKBIRD
NEVER SLEEP WITH STRANGERS
EYES OF FIRE
SLOW BURN
NIGHT HEAT
* * * * *
THE SILENCED
Heather Graham
Dedicated with love and appreciation to Cindy Kremple, Sharon Murphy, Patty Harrison, Janice and Thomas Jones, Pat Walker, Ginger and Larry McSween, Molly Bolden and Kay Levine, Susan and Kevin Cella, and Rebecca Barrett for all the behind-the-scenes help you give so often at Writers for New Orleans.
And with very special thanks to Sheila Vincent and the Hotel Monteleone.
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
PROLOGUE
Lara Mayhew held her cell phone to her ear, trying to reach her friend Meg as she hurried along the length of the National Mall. She moved as quickly as she could; she’d never intended to be out so late—or so early, whichever it might be. The buildings she loved by day seemed like massive living creatures at night, staring at her with a strange malevolence. She loved the White House, the Capitol building, the Mall and, maybe more than any of them, the Castle building of the Smithsonian with its red facade and turrets.
They suddenly seemed to be looming hulks of evil. It was the hour, of course.
She told herself she was being ridiculous.
The ringing finally stopped and Lara got her friend’s voice mail. Of course. Why would Meg be up at 2:30 a.m.?
But Lara could at least leave a message that might save her friend from worry when she disappeared.
“Meg, it’s me, Lara. I wanted to let you know I’m going home. Home, as in getting out of DC and heading for Richmond. I’m going as soon as it’s daylight. I’ll talk to you when I can. Love you. Don’t say anything to anyone else, okay? I have to get out of here. Talk soon.”
She clicked the end button and slipped the phone into her bag. Meg was her best friend. They’d both been only children—and they’d both wanted siblings. They’d decided once that they’d be just like sisters. And they were.
She wished she’d managed to get ahold of Meg, that she could’ve heard her voice.
She walked briskly along the dark and empty sidewalk and yet she was certain she could hear all kinds of noises. Furtive noises.
Get a grip, she warned herself. She wasn’t prone to being afraid—not without good reason.
Yet the night…scared her. And for no real reason.
Maybe because what she suspected was bone-chilling?
She considered calling 9-1-1. And saying what? She didn’t have an emergency. She was stupidly walking around on dark city streets, suddenly afraid of trying to make her way home in the early-morning hour.
She reminded herself that she was near the White House, for God’s sake, the Capitol, the Smithsonian buildings—and the Washington Monument. Despite the darkness and the shadows, she was fine.
She’d just never been in the area so late. Then again, there’d never been a night quite like this one. She was so upset about what she suspected that she hadn’t thought about the time when she’d made her indignant retreat. She hadn’t had the sense to be afraid as she dashed out.
She hadn’t thought to call a cab, either, and there weren’t many of them on the streets right now.
She mulled over her fears about what was going on, the situation that had caused her to stay so late, spend so many hours talking. Of course, she and Congressman Walker had often stayed at the office late. Not this late, though. Well, maybe, but he always saw that she got home safely. And most of the time, she’d left feeling exhilarated.
She had adored him. She worked on media and communications, but she was also an adviser, a problem-solver.
It was about a month ago that she’d first begun to feel uneasy. She’d wanted to call Meg then, but hadn’t. Meg had been in the middle of her FBI training. So she’d gone home to Aunt Nancy’s for a day and then done a quick circuit of the things she and Meg had done as children and during their breaks at college. She’d followed what they called their trail. All places that were cheap and historic and wonderful. And she’d left a message in the hollow of the broken marker in the Harpers Ferry graveyard, as they’d done when they were kids. One day—who knew?—she might go back to pick up the message. If her suspicions proved groundless.
She was angry with herself. She wasn’t naive. She’d just wholeheartedly believed in what she was doing. Then she’d begun to realize that there were little erosions in those beliefs—which had become big erosions.
She thought about her friend again, wishing Meg had answered her phone.
They’d been such dreamers. Meg had always focused on law enforcement, she on law and governance. Her love of history and the story of America had made her understand and value the importance of good government, and she still believed in the passion for justice and freedom that had forged her country. There had been painful lessons along the way; among them, a bloody Civil War, which had taught Americans some of those lessons.
Longing to work in DC—to fight for justice and equality herself—she’d found Congressman Ian Walker, who was a dreamer, too.
And an idealist. One who did, however, recognize that in a country where different people had different ideals, compromise was often necessary.
What to do, oh, Lord, what to do…
Today, she’d been shocked, absolutely shocked. Before that, she’d thought she had simply been imagining things. And then today, she was faced with all the talk about Walker’s Gettysburg speech, what he should say—now that Congressman Hubbard was dead.
She should’ve been more careful. She shouldn’t have suggested that she was worried about the fact that such a decent man had so conveniently died.
Leave. Go home. That made the most sense. Get the hell out as soon as possible. Go home to Richmond, figure out the proper thing to do about the situation here, decide what she really wanted to do with her future.
It was crazy, she told herself angrily, to give up her passion because of this.
But she hadn’t given up. She just needed a change for a while; there was still goodness in the world, and lots more opportunity, and she needed to sample some of it. Then, one day, perhaps she’d come back, using her skill with words to champion the right man or woman again.
Once she found safety, should she tell the world her suspicions? She had no proof. She’d be laughe
d out of court; no lawyer would take her on.
She could always approach her media contacts. Throwing the hint of suspicion out there could change everything.
There was also the possibility of being sued for slander, since she had no proof.
There was Meg, but she had to reach Meg first.
And the faster she walked, the more afraid she felt.
Get out of Washington! It’s a nest of vipers!
She still believed in the dream. In men and women who couldn’t be bought.
But there were other things she could do.
Take a job with a media company or PR firm in Richmond. What about Harpers Ferry? Tourism there grew every year. Then again, Harpers Ferry was small. Maybe Richmond would be best. And she loved Pennsylvania—especially Gettysburg! They’d gone there so often, she and Meg, and made interesting friends.
No! Not Gettysburg. Not after tonight!
She needed somewhere far, far away from DC.
She did love the Blue Ridge Mountains. There were smaller towns out that way, towns that flourished because of tourism. She could find work with a tour company or something. Anything except this.
Baltimore?
Maybe she needed to go much farther afield than the states of Virginia, Maryland or West Virginia.
She looked around the shadowed streets, walking as swiftly as she could. She’d worked very late before now—well, till one in the morning, anyway. She hadn’t been nervous those other nights, not at all. Congressman Walker was a good man; it just seemed now that he was a man who could be swayed, who could be fooled and manipulated into changing his views and his policies—into working with others to undermine what he had once believed in.
But she still felt that he was, at heart, a good man.
No matter what she’d learned today. No matter what she’d expected. No matter how disappointed she was. She had to believe he was a good man.
Was he really innocent of any knowledge of a man’s death?
She could be wrong; she probably was. But she couldn’t help suspecting that someone in his political camp had wanted Congressman Hubbard out of the picture. It was just a suspicion, she told herself again, and it could be unfounded!
Her fear tonight was simply a result of the shadows and the darkness. By day, tourists and lawmakers crowded these streets. Children laughed and ran around on the grass. The Smithsonian’s Castle stood as a bastion to the past and the country’s rich history—as the USA became a full-fledged country, one that had withstood the rigors of war and knew how to create the arts and sciences crucial to a nation of dreamers.
