by Dani Pettrey
Her eyes narrowed. What did he mean? Would Kayden shun her as well? So far she’d been nice, but what if she stayed in Yancey, what if Cole showed interest in her? Would Kayden change her tune?
“Yep. You hang around here much longer and you’ll be part of the family, whether you like it or not.”
She swallowed the fear pricking at her and forced a chuckle. “That bad?”
“Actually, it’s great, but it sure makes it harder to run.”
Laughter erupted, and Bailey jerked her head up.
Gage stood drenched a few feet from the grill. He pointed his spatula—beads of water dripping off it—at Piper. “Oh, you did not.”
She pulled another water balloon from behind her back and hit Gage smack in the chest, water exploding about him.
“Game on!” He tossed the spatula and took off after her.
A moment later Gage carried Piper, kicking and screaming, over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes down to the water and flung her unceremoniously into the rising tide.
While he was busy enjoying the victory, Kayden and Cole sneaked up behind him and launched him in head over heels beside his sister.
Kayden and Cole exchanged a high five.
“This ought to be good,” Jake said, rising to his feet.
He and Bailey joined the crowd at the water’s edge.
Piper emerged first, followed by Gage with a big grin on his face.
“I’m going to change,” Piper announced, sloshing off toward the house.
Gage pulled off his sopping wet shirt and tossed it at Cole. “You got a shirt I can borrow?”
Cole chuckled. “As long as you don’t go for another swim.”
“Can’t make any promises.”
“Cool tattoo,” Bailey said of the tiny footprints emblazoned above Gage’s heart.
Gage looked down and something shifted in his demeanor. It was slight, but Bailey sensed it all the same. The playfulness was gone.
“Thanks.” He trailed a long, lean finger across the dark blue tattoo. “My son’s.”
“I didn’t realize you had a son.” Why hadn’t Cole mentioned a nephew? “How old is he?”
The weight of everyone’s worried gaze bore down on her.
She swallowed. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. It’s fine.” Gage’s hands curled into balls at his side. “My boy died two days after he was born.”
Bailey wished the ground would open up and swallow her. “I’m so sorry. That was so stupid of me. . . .”
“Really, it’s fine. Don’t sweat it.” Gage squeezed her clammy hand.
His kindness only made her feel more of a heel, and she fought the urge to flee.
“Come on, guys,” Gage said, forcing a smile. “This is a party. Let’s get back to it.” He clapped Cole on the shoulder. “I’m gonna grab that shirt.”
Cole nodded and stepped to Bailey’s side as everyone returned to mingling about.
“I can’t believe I did that.” She ran her hands through her hair.
“You had no idea.”
“Still . . .” Why had she kept mumbling on like a fool when something was clearly amiss?
He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “There was no way for you to know. You’ve got to give yourself a break.”
His eyes brimming with kindness, he steered her back to the stone bench and they sat.
She released a shaky exhale. “I can’t image the pain Gage suffered, the absolute heartache.”
Cole hunched over and clasped his hands. “It was awful. He still hasn’t healed.”
How could a parent heal from that? Well, normal caring parents. Hers would have probably found it easier. It would have saved them the trouble of pawning her off fifteen years later. “I don’t suppose you ever heal from something like that.” It was beyond human understanding.
“No. I don’t suppose you do, but I wish Gage could find some measure of peace. I’ve tried talking to him about Jesus, but he wants nothing to do with Him.”
“When people hurt they usually want to run away from God instead of to Him—even though He’s what they need most.”
Cole held her gaze. “Very insightfully spoken.”
She swallowed. “Just been there myself.”
Late that night, Piper looked around the darkness surrounding her and took a deep breath before knocking on Landon’s door, bracing herself for his initial reaction. He’d be mad and lecture her, but it would all be worth it when she told him.
Harvey howled at her knock, and a moment later, the porch light clicked on amidst the barking.
Landon opened the door, sleep heavy in his eyes. He was shirtless and wore a pair of rumpled jeans he’d clearly just pulled on. “Piper, what on earth are you doing here?” He glanced at his watch, blinked, then his eyes widened. “At one in the morning?” The haze of sleep vanished and he straightened. “What’s wrong?”
She struggled to control the thrill bubbling inside of her. “I found the truck.”
“You found the truck?” Landon raked a hand through his hair, making it stand more on end. “Where?”
“In the rushes past the salt marsh.”
“When?”
“Just now.”
He yanked her inside and switched on the lamp. He grabbed a shirt off the back of the couch and slipped it on.
Piper swallowed. Here came the lecture part. She’d let him have it out, and then he’d thank her for years to come. She’d no longer be just Cole’s annoying little sister.
“What were you doing traipsing around the salt marshes in the middle of the night?”
“After everyone left the party, Denny took me on a midnight canoe ride to celebrate my birthday. We were out on the water and I saw the moonlight reflecting off something in the rushes. I made Denny go with me to investigate. It’s definitely the truck, Washington plates and all.” She waited for the thank-yous to roll in.
Instead, Landon crossed his arms. “Does Cole know you were out with Denny in the middle of the night?”
Unbelievable. She’d just handed him the biggest lead in the case and he was interrogating her. “Cole is my brother. Not my father. Contrary to what you think, I do not require his permission for my social life—or yours. I’m an adult.”
“A really foolish one.”
“I found your truck.”
“At what expense? You were alone with a man in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. If anything happened . . .” His jaw clenched. “There would have been no one to help.”
She slumped against the back of the couch, figuring she might as well get comfortable for the ensuing reprimand. In hindsight, it would have been wiser to tell him the news in the morning, thus avoiding the whole freak-out factor, but she’d been bursting at the seams with excitement. Now she’d pay for it. “I was with Denny. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“A lot of men don’t show their true colors until it’s too late,” Landon’s tone grew empathic.
She laughed at the absurdity of the idea. “Denny still lives with his mom, for goodness’ sake.”
“This is no joke, Piper.” Gripping her by the arms, Landon hauled her from the couch and pressed her against the wall.
“Landon.” She wriggled, but he held her firmly in place, his fingers boring into her upper arms. Irritation swarmed through her. She was not some child he could scare into submission. She wriggled again, to no avail. “This isn’t funny.”
“Exactly. That’s what I’m trying to drill into that thick skull of yours.” His face was an inch from hers, his breath hot on her skin as he spoke. “I could do anything I wanted to with you right now and there’d be nothing you could do to stop me.” His voice was hoarse, the words heated and throaty.
She wasn’t frightened, but she suddenly felt very off-kilter—like she’d just stepped off the Tilt-A-Whirl and hadn’t found her footing.
The intensity burning in his eyes was new, and while it didn’t change her perception
of him, it did alter it. Landon was suddenly a man—virile and strong, and very in control of the moment.
“I could scream.”
He cocked his head. “And who would hear?”
No one. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, despising Landon for putting her in this position, for treating her like a child. “Fine, I get it, but—”
“No buts. You’ve got to make smarter choices.” He released her arms but didn’t step back. “This, for example”—he indicated the two of them—“isn’t smart. You’re at my house, and I’ll bet no one knows you’re here.”
She laughed, hoping it would diffuse the tightness in her belly, the heat scourging through her. “Now you’re being ridiculous. I know you of all people would never harm me.”
“How do you know?”
Because he was her fourth big brother—worse than all the rest. He’d always been there, grafted into their family as far back as she could remember—bossing her around, teasing her, infuriating her, but . . . at the same time, always looking out for her. “Because I know you.”
Something flickered in his eyes, and he lifted his chin a notch. “Can you say the same about Denny?”
“No, but . . .”
He exhaled, shaking his head. “Again with the buts. Piper, just because you grow up in the same town as somebody doesn’t make them safe. Ted Bundy’s neighbors thought he was a polite, charming guy. They never suspected he was a sociopathic serial killer.”
She sighed. Put that way, perhaps a midnight canoe ride hadn’t been the brightest idea—perhaps it’d even been a bit reckless. But sometimes she liked reckless, and Landon would never understand that. He was a cop. He thought like a cop and lived like a cop. It was his job to be wary, to be vigilant. She had no desire to live that way—always expecting the worst, always having to be on guard.
In frustration she pushed past him, and he did nothing to restrain her. “Don’t you even want to go see the truck?”
“Of course I do.” He shook his hands out.
She narrowed her eyes. Was he trembling? Had she angered him that much?
“I’ll take you home and then head over there.” He sat on the edge of the couch and yanked on his boots.
“I’m going with you.” She’d been smart enough to keep her hands off the truck when she discovered it, but she was going to be there when Landon took a look inside. It was her find and she had a right to see where it led.
Landon grabbed his keys off the hook and held the front door open for her. “No, you’re not.”
She walked through. “Yes, I am.”
“This isn’t up for debate.” He opened the truck door for her, and she climbed inside.
“You need me to find it,” she said smugly, knowing she was pushing too far but unable to stop.
Gritting his teeth, he slammed the door. He stalked around the vehicle, climbed in, and without a word, started the engine and backed down the drive.
Halfway down the road, he spoke, his tone firm, his words clipped. “You show me the truck and I take you home. I can handle the rest on my own.”
“Fine. I’ll call Denny and tell him we can finish our date.”
Landon’s grip tightened on the wheel, his knuckles bulging.
She crossed her arms. Checkmate.
22
Landon followed Piper, ahead of him with the flashlight, through the mess of reeds past the salt marshes in the area they dubbed “the glades.” The farther from civilization they walked, the angrier he grew. Looking out for his best bud’s sister hadn’t been as easy as he’d first thought, but he had no choice. It was what best friends did. If someone hurt either of Cole’s sisters, it was like someone hurt him. Kayden—she’d been the easy one. She was smart when it came to her safety, not to mention frighteningly tough. Piper . . .
He sighed. She was a different matter entirely. If things kept heading in the same direction, she’d send him to an early grave. The girl was bright—sometimes too much so. She possessed a rapier wit, but when it came to her safety, she was irresponsible at best, downright reckless at worst.
Cole would light her up when he heard about her latest stunt, but it would make no difference. It never did. The girl was as stubborn as the day was long, and Landon feared she’d never learn until it was too late.
Granted, he’d probably gone overboard comparing Denny Foster to Ted Bundy, but he’d been trying to drive home a point—being alone with a man in a secluded setting wasn’t smart under any circumstances, especially not on a third date.
His blood near boiling, he pressed into a faster stride, nearly clipping Piper on the heels.
“Scared of the dark?” she quipped.
A bullfrog croaked.
“Just keep moving.” He pressed a hand to her back. “I don’t want to be out here all night.”
“You’re cranky when you’re tired.”
“You keep being a sass and you’ll see cranky.”
“Ooh, I’m shaking in my sandals.” She laughed, then abruptly stopped.
He nearly bowled her over before regaining his balance. “Brake lights would be nice.”
“Sorry. I’m stuck.”
“What?”
“My feet are stuck.”
He took the flashlight from her and swooshed the beam across her feet, both several inches deep in mud and gook.
He smirked. “Told you, you shouldn’t be sassy, pipsqueak.”
She rolled her eyes. “Very funny. Now, give me a hand and quit calling me that. It wasn’t funny when I was twelve and it’s certainly not funny now.” She braced herself against him and lifted her right leg. Her foot broke through the strap and she nearly toppled backward into him.
He steadied her. “Easy now.”
“Argh! Those were my favorite sandals.” She let out a huff and bent to pull the broken strap. With a sludgy suction noise, the sandal flung free, spraying Landon with a fine mist of mud.
Her lips twitched.
“Don’t you dare.”
She burst out laughing.
Wiping the gunk from his face, he fought the urge to wring her neck. “Let’s try this my way, shall we?” He bent, slipped her foot from the remaining sandal, and scooted her behind him. Tugging the broken strap gingerly, he pulled it free and handed it to her.
“Thanks.” She held it aloft as mud oozed off. “I guess it’s barefoot from here.”
“No way. Kids use this area as a partying spot. There’s likely broken glass spread all over the area, not to mention the wildlife we might encounter.”
“So what do you suggest? I hop on one foot?”
“That could be interesting.” Balancing on one leg, she already looked like a lopsided flamingo. He cracked a grin.
“Get real,” she sighed. “I think I’ll take my chances barefoot.”
“Not happening.”
“Then what do you propose?”
Landon hefted Piper higher up on his back, fighting off the chill of the rain drenching them. This night had gone from bad to worse. Traipsing through the mud to the chorus of bullfrogs in pouring rain with Piper on his back was far from his ideal. He could have been home—warm, dry, and in bed. Instead, Piper had been out doing what she shouldn’t, with someone she should have known better than to trust, and again, he was paying the price. At least it wasn’t a total loss. She’d found the truck. He had to, no matter how begrudgingly, give her credit for that. He just hoped it would hold the answers they’d been searching for . . . if they ever reached it.
“How much farther did you say?”
“Not far.”
“You said that twenty minutes ago.”
“It’s not my fault the rain is slowing you down.”
“The rain and an extra hundred and twenty-five pounds. Or . . .” He hefted her up again. “Is it more?”
She tightened her grip on his neck. “A hundred and twenty-three, thank you very much.”
He chuckled, despite the pressure on his Adam’s apple.
/> “There.” She released her death grip and aimed the flashlight a few yards in front of them.
Landon smiled at the beam bouncing off the metal bumper.
“Well,” Piper said, shivering on the truck bed. It was now half past three, and she was soaked, cold, and tired. But at least the rain had stopped.
“There’s not much here.” Landon slammed the truck door.
“So what now?”
He wiped his brow. “Now we hike back out of here. I take you home and get Kayden to fly me to Anchorage.”
“Anchorage? What for?”
He smiled. “To catch the early-morning flight to Washington. Turns out this night wasn’t a total loss. I found a worn sticker on the inside of the glove box for Jim’s Auto Shop in Bellingham, Washington.”
23
Landon left Jim’s Auto Shop with little more information than he had when he entered. Jim had refurbished and sold the truck on the side. The buyer had paid cash and said he’d take care of filling out the title.
Jim vaguely recalled the man—tall, dark hair, maybe late twenties. The truck was purchased July thirteenth. Two weeks before Elizabeth turned up in Yancey. Elizabeth’s sister, Rachel, said Liz left for vacation on the twenty-third, which meant Mystery Man purchased the truck well in advance, possibly leaving it at the local airport for their pending arrival.
Rachel didn’t know how her sister was traveling, but working with time constraints, flying seemed the most probable mode of transportation, at least as far as Bellingham. They must have taken the ferry from there.
So far the key had failed to match any locker at the local ferry stop or airport. Landon handed Piper a bagel sandwich and a bottle of OJ he’d procured in the airport restaurant.
She bit into it and sighed with satisfaction.
He smiled. Piper had missed some mud splatter during her rushed cleanup, and was drowning in his UAF sweatshirt, but she looked adorable.
“Maybe they came by bus,” she said between bites.
“It would have taken too much time. We know they left Cali on the twenty-third, and arrived in Yancey by the twenty-ninth at the latest. Plus you’ve got to allow five days for the ferry.”