Shattered

by Dani Pettrey

  Tess shuffled through the pile and finally settled on a Snickers bar. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” Piper tossed Landon a Sprite.

  “Thanks.”

  “So what did I miss?”

  Tess exchanged a look with Landon. “Just chitchat.”

  Piper opened the bag of mini pretzels. “Cool.”

  Tess stood. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “So soon?” Piper stood too.

  “Yeah.”

  “But I still have a lot of questions.”

  “I’ve told you all I know.”

  “Anybody else you can think of we should talk to? Maybe your and Karli’s physical therapist.”

  “No.” Tess grabbed her bag. “She’s out of this.”

  Piper trailed her to the door. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she can’t tell you anything I haven’t, so leave her be.”

  “What about the people Karli worked with at Vailmont or Glacier?”

  “You can try, but I doubt anyone’s going to talk to you.”

  “Because we’re asking about Karli?”

  “Because you’re going about this all wrong.”

  Piper frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The boarding community is tight. We take care of our own and don’t care much for outsiders. The deeper you go in British Columbia territory, the tighter it gets. You two start asking questions and you’ll get nowhere.”

  “Could you make introductions for us?”

  “Nah, I don’t want to get any more involved.” She ducked her head and glanced at Landon. “Sorry.”

  “Well, what do you suggest?”

  “If you decide to go to another lodge, try to blend in.”

  “How?”

  “Act like you’re there for lessons. Say you’re friends of Karli’s. That she recommended the lodge to you a while back and you’re just checking it out. Spend time around the instructors—show interest in boarding, let them feel comfortable around you before you start asking questions. Make it feel like a casual conversation rather than an interrogation.”

  “Great advice,” Landon said. “Can we talk to you again?” It’d be good to talk with her one more time. See if anything jarred her memory after a good night’s sleep.

  “Can’t. I’m leaving.”

  Landon looked at Piper and then back to Tess. “Really? How soon?”

  Tess clutched the doorknob. “Now.”

  24

  “This is so exciting,” Piper whispered behind Landon as they crouched outside Tess’s cabin door.

  He clicked the lock open. With one more glance around to be certain no one had seen them, he slid into the cabin Karli and Tess had shared.

  “Tess said it’s been months since Karli last lived here,” Piper whispered, stepping inside the dark cabin behind him. “That if Karli had left anything, it’d most likely be in the storage lockers at Glacier Peak.”

  “It’s still worth checking out while we’re here. Tess said no one has used Karli’s room since she left. Let’s check the whole cabin—look for anything Karli might have left behind.”

  Piper nodded enthusiastically and clicked on her small flashlight, illuminating a huge grin.

  He shook his head as she disappeared down the dark hallway. No wonder he worried about her. What other woman got excited about breaking and entering?

  He turned the knob on the door closest him and stepped into the bedroom. A few posters of snowboarders and several wilderness scenes hung on the paneled walls. A desk and matching dresser, reminiscent of assigned dorm furniture, lined the opposite wall.

  He scanned the shelves and furniture tops. Nothing personal in nature. A single bed with bare mattress sat against the far wall. Karli’s room. He rested the flashlight on top of the dresser and started opening drawers from the bottom up. The first three were empty, the fourth held a few items of clothing—some socks, a couple thermal tops, and a pair of snow pants. He sifted through them, hoping for any hidden items but came up empty-handed. He moved to the desk and found even less—a couple pens, a blank notebook, and a pair of sunglasses.

  He dropped to his knees and examined the underside of the desk, the dresser, and finally the bed.

  “You find anything?” Piper asked.

  His breath hitched momentarily. The girl was like a ninja. She was the only person he never heard coming. “Nope.” He got to his feet, dusting off his jeans. “How about you?”

  “Tess’s room is full of stuff, but this”—she held up a planner—“looked most promis—”

  The cabin door creaked.

  Landon steadied Piper with his hand.

  “I’m telling you I saw a light flash in this window,” a woman said.

  “Sure you did.”

  Landon quietly pulled the bedroom door shut.

  “I know what I saw.”

  “Fine, we’ll check it out, but I still say you’re being paranoid.”

  The lights clicked on in the front room.

  Landon indicated the window, and Piper moved quickly for it.

  “I’m not the only paranoid one,” the woman said, their voices drawing nearer.

  Piper lifted the sash.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” the man asked, their voices just outside the door.

  “Duh. Tess. She bolted after those two started poking around.”

  Landon shoved Piper out the window and then dove out after her as the bedroom light flicked on.

  Piper grunted as he landed on top of her.

  “The window’s open. Who’s paranoid now?” The woman’s voice grew perilously close.

  Landon rolled Piper with him flush against the cabin wall, hoping his dark jacket and the bushes would camouflage them.

  “Maybe Tess left it open,” the man said.

  “Yeah right.”

  Landon ducked and held his breath as the man poked his head out the window.

  “You see anything?” the woman asked.

  “No.” The window shut.

  With an exhale, Landon rolled off Piper. “I’m sorry. You okay?”

  She sat up slowly, and he studied her in the soft glow emanating from the window. He brushed the hair from her face, fearful he’d added to the hard knocks she’d encountered in the last few days. His hand stilled, cradling her soft skin in the curve of his palm.

  She blinked.

  “Are you hurt?” His throat was dry.

  She shook her head.

  The light clicked off, shrouding them in darkness, and a minute later the front door opened.

  Landon once again pulled Piper to him as he flattened against the cabin wall. He could feel her heart thudding against his chest, skittering rapidly, like his.

  “I’m telling you, something’s not right,” the woman said.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to keep an eye on those two.”

  “The ones poking around about Tess?”

  “And Karli.”

  Their voices faded, and Landon reluctantly released his hold on Piper. He stood and helped her to her feet. “You sure you’re okay?”

  A grin spread across her full lips. “I’m great.”

  “Huh?”

  “That was so much fun.”

  “Fun?” The girl really was crazy.

  “Oh, come on.” She brushed the snow from her pants. “You can’t tell me that didn’t feel exhilarating.”

  Every nerve ending in his body was on fire. Exhilaration didn’t come close.

  Piper yanked the gloves from her hands and tossed them on the hotel-room coffee table. Her mind was racing as quickly as her heart. No wonder Landon enjoyed police work so much. The thrill of tracking down leads. . . . It was addictive. “Why do you think Tess reacted so strongly when we asked about speaking with her physical therapist?”

  “I don’t know.” Landon slipped his jacket over the chair. “It seemed like she was trying to protect her.”

  “From what?
” she asked as Landon knelt in front of the hearth.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, hopefully this”—Piper held up the planner as she plopped on the couch—“will help us find her.”

  Landon arranged the kindling and stacked a couple logs over it. “We should give room service a call and get some food sent up. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

  “Good idea.” She smiled, loving the thought of the night ahead—her and Landon before a roaring fire, working together to solve a crime. Just the two of them. She wondered if that was about to end, and if Becky . . .

  She cut off the thought. Don’t go there. Keep your focus on the case.

  Landon struck a match and held the flame to the kindling, letting it catch fire before tossing the match in. He left his boots by the hearth and strode back to her. “You really thrive on this, don’t you?”

  “Working a case with you? Yes, very much.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he sat beside her.

  “What?”

  “I’m just trying to decide if that’s a good or bad thing.”

  25

  Landon sat on the floor, his back propped against the couch, notes spread out on the carpet around him. He tried to ignore Piper’s close proximity as she leaned forward from her seat on the sofa, her head hovering a hairsbreadth from his shoulder as she studied the planner in his hand. He breathed in the soft floral scent of her hair, marveled at the silkiness of her skin as her hand brushed his.

  “We’re getting closer.” Her breath rippled gooseflesh along his neck.

  “W . . .” He cleared his throat. “What?”

  “Tess’s shorthand.” She reclined back on the sofa and crossed her legs beneath her.

  “Right. Shorthand.” He cleared his throat. Tess’s planner was no more than a series of gridded sheets and lined pages. No months, no headings, and nothing that seemed to indicate a set calendar year had been observed. It was like she’d used up the original planning tools, torn them out, and replaced them with the extra note and grid pages as fill-ins, using a crazy organizational system of initials and numbers. What it resulted in was a nightmare to try and decipher.

  Loathing the sudden distance between them, Landon stood and moved to sit beside her on the couch.

  “Could you stoke the fire?” she asked before he sat.

  He looked back at the dying embers. He hadn’t even noticed. “Sure.” He handed her the planner and bypassed the discarded room service tray. He’d set it out in the hall when he left for the night . . . or the morning was more likely. But he wasn’t complaining. It meant more time with Piper.

  He bent by the hearth and stoked the fire back to life before adding another log.

  “Look at this entry—JP I 2.4 23. I think JP is a person’s initials,” she said, and he could almost hear the wheels spinning.

  Landon sat next to her and studied the entry. “Or a place.”

  “Okay, but the next set must be dates.”

  “Looks that way. Perhaps a date and then a time?” But what kind of time was 23? Unless it was military time, 2300. Or was it Tess’s shorthand version of 2:30?

  “So taking into account the approximate date of Tess’s injury, the initials TN that repeat regularly on the dates that follow are probably related to her physical therapy.”

  “And we know she was living up at Glacier Peak at the time.”

  “So we should be looking at physical therapists in the area with the initials TN.”

  Landon grabbed his laptop and started searching. In under an hour, they located Wellspring Physical Therapy in Invermere, British Columbia—only a half hour from Glacier Peak resort. The lead therapist’s name was Taylor Nash.

  Piper reached for her cell.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Calling Taylor Nash.”

  “It’s after midnight.”

  “Right. I forgot.”

  “We’ll call first thing in the morning.”

  “Okay.” She tapped her pencil against the planner in rapid succession.

  “Morning will be here before you know it.”

  She nodded.

  “I should go so you can get some rest.”

  “Yeah, right. We both know I’m too pumped to sleep.”

  “So you want to keep going?”

  “Of course.” She lifted the planner. “Since we know the letters represent initials . . .”

  “We don’t know.”

  “Fine. We’re following a hunch they are.”

  “We’re following what makes the most sense. Hence, logic.”

  “Call it whatever you will, but going with that theory, it appears there is only one reference to Karli back while they were doing physical therapy.”

  “If K represents Karli.” A lot of names started with K, as did a lot of places.

  “Well, let’s just assume for the moment it does. The numbers that follow are different. They are too long for a date or a phone number. . . .”

  “Unless there is an extension involved.”

  “Extension. Very smart.”

  “Only if it’s right.”

  She nudged him with her shoulder. “Learn to take a compliment.”

  “Fine. It’s brilliant, but in reality those numbers could be anything.”

  “Ignoring your pessimism. Now, what about the S. Bridge?”

  This entry they assumed referred to Karli was the only entry that included more than initials and numbers.

  “A place, maybe.” She tapped the pencil against her full bottom lip.

  “Oddly, it sounds familiar.”

  “It does?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know why.” Was it a place he’d been or a person he’d met? The familiarity was there but little else.

  “Maybe we should get out an atlas and start looking for bridge names that start with S. Do you think we should start here or in Alaska?”

  “I’d start closest to her home.”

  “So British Columbia?”

  “Assuming that was Karli’s actual home. All we know for certain is that she’d been living in this area a couple years.” The deeper they dug into Karli Davis’s life, the more of a ghost she became. No one but Tess seemed to know anything of significance about her, and even what Tess knew was sketchy.

  “Why do you think she was going by an alias?”

  “We don’t know that she was.” He draped his arm across the sofa’s back.

  Piper frowned. “But Tess said . . .”

  “What Karli told her.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You’re assuming Karli was telling the truth.”

  Piper’s eyes narrowed. “You think she lied?”

  “It doesn’t seem like Karli had the best moral standards.”

  “Because she slept around?”

  “For one.”

  “Interesting you should say that.” She shifted to face him better.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I’m just curious . . . Do you think sleeping with someone outside of marriage is wrong, or is it because Karli had multiple partners, some married, that offends you?”

  “I’m just saying I don’t think what we’ve learned of Karli shows her actions to be of the highest character.”

  “Agreed, but you haven’t answered my question.”

  “I thought we were talking about Karli.”

  “We were.” She scooted closer. “But now I’m asking you. Where do you stand on sex outside of marriage?”

  “I think people should wait until they are married.”

  “Really?” She cocked her head.

  “Why do you sound so surprised?” The words left his mouth before the cause of her question dawned. Becky. How could he have been so dense?

  “I’ve heard you tell the teens in Cole’s youth group how important it is to wait, but then . . .” She blinked and looked away, staring into the fire’s renewed flames.

  His throat tightened. “Then?”
/>
  The words choked in her throat. “You were with her.”

  His heart squeezed at the ache in Piper’s voice. “Piper, I promise you, nothing happened.”

  “What’s your definition of nothing?”

  Leave it to Piper to cut to the chase. “Nothing means nothing. Becky came over wanting something to happen. She tried to make it happen, which is what you saw, but nothing did. After you left, I drove her home and haven’t spoken to her since.”

  His words didn’t bring the relief he’d hoped to see on her beautiful face.

  “Why was she there in the first place?”

  “She just showed up. She was waiting on my front porch when I got home.”

  “Because of your night together at Hawkings?”

  He winced at the hurt on her face. “I don’t know what Denny told you, but we didn’t have a night together at Hawkings.”

  “So you weren’t there?”

  How he wished he could say he wasn’t. “I was.”

  “On the job?” Hope clung to her words.

  He ached to avoid the truth, but he couldn’t lie to her. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Then, why? To meet her?”

  “No.” He gathered his courage. “I went in for a drink.”

  “Oh.” Her forehead creased. “I didn’t realize you did that.”

  “I don’t.” Or at least he hadn’t in a very long time. Not since the last time he’d tried to forget.

  “Then . . . why?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  She glanced about the quiet room. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He prayed that was true. “It’s late.” And there was no way to honestly have this conversation with Piper without telling her how he felt. Coward that he was, he wasn’t ready to face that rejection yet. Besides, he didn’t want her to feel horribly awkward. They still had several days of investigation before them, and he didn’t want her feeling uncomfortable because her brother’s best friend had fallen hopelessly in love with her. “We should get some sleep.”

  Taking the planner, he stood, and she followed him to the door, looking less than pleased with his abrupt end to their conversation. “What’s our next step?”

  “Our next step?”

  “Yeah. What’s the plan for tomorrow?”