Shattered

by Dani Pettrey

  “Right, tomorrow.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What did you think I meant?”

  “Nothing. So tomorrow . . .”

  She cocked her head as he scrambled to focus. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” He cleared his throat. “I just think we’ve gotten as far as we can here.”

  She took a step closer, effectively pinning him between her and the door. “How far did you hope to get?”

  His mouth went dry. Surely she didn’t mean . . .

  “On Karli’s case.”

  “Right. Karli’s case. I . . . um . . .” The door felt heavy at his back, the knob cold against his palm. His mind was playing dangerous tricks on him. Piper was asking about the case, not flirting with him.

  “You . . . ?”

  “Think we should move forward.”

  She smiled sleepily. “Moving forward sounds interesting.”

  “To Vailmont,” he said a bit too loudly.

  Her smile widened. “To Vailmont.”

  He nodded. “I think we’ve learned all we can about Karli here.” He shook his head, trying to rein in his wandering imagination. “I think our next move should be to Vailmont, since Tess thinks Samantha Mann is still working there. And we can try to confirm the identity of Karli and Tess’s PT before heading to Glacier Peak.”

  She stifled a yawn. “Sounds good.”

  He lingered, knowing he needed to go but loath to do so. She was right there, barely a foot from him. If he simply reached out, he could pull her into his arms and . . .

  And what?

  She was talking about the case. It was only his stupid mind racing in a different direction—the dangerous direction of them.

  She lifted on her tiptoes. “Is there something else?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Nothing.” Nothing she’d want to hear.

  “Then I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Right. See you in the morning.”

  26

  Landon flipped over, scrunching the pillow beneath him, his senses tingling with anticipation. Unfounded anticipation.

  His brain was playing cruel tricks on him, making him believe that Piper had actually been flirting with him, that she could actually feel the same way. He rolled over and chucked the pillow across the room. Trying to sleep was useless; his brain was rattling a million miles an hour in a direction he couldn’t go. He reached over and clicked on the lamp. Might as well put this energy to good use. He grabbed Tess’s planner and his notebook off the nightstand, propped his back against the headboard, and got to work.

  Shortly before dawn, the reason for the familiarity of S. Bridge finally clicked. He knew a U.S. Marshal by that name, Scott Bridge. The man had mentored Landon’s college roommate Luke his first year in the Marshals Service and had helped Luke bounce back when he lost his first witness. More than likely Tess’s reference was to an entirely different S. Bridge. And perhaps the notation was for a location, as they’d originally thought and not for a person, but his gut said to make the call. He pulled out his cell and scrolled through his contacts until Luke’s name and number appeared.

  Landon found Piper in the lodge restaurant, a plate of half-eaten pancakes before her.

  “No good?” He gestured to the plate, trying to keep the conversation on a safe topic.

  “They were fine. Have you eaten yet?”

  “No. I’ll grab something before we head out.” He snatched the laminated menu and scanned it, his eyes skimming the words but his mind not registering them. Piper was all he could think about. What they’d said, hadn’t said . . . almost said.

  He hated the awkwardness. He yearned for the comfort and ease that used to exist between them but knew it would never return. They’d be forced to move forward, one way or another.

  But for now they had a case to crack. He flipped the menu over, still not registering a single word. “Did you get ahold of Taylor Nash?”

  “No, but I left a message. The receptionist wasn’t helpful at all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Piper stabbed at her pancakes. “She wouldn’t confirm that Karli or Tess were patients.”

  “That’s not surprising.”

  “Well, there is no sense driving all the way to Invermere until we know we’ve got the right TN. At least not until we’re finished at Vailmont and are on our way to Glacier Peak.”

  “Which will be soon enough.”

  She exhaled. “I just want to know we are on the right track.”

  “I know.” He resisted the urge to reach for her hand.

  “At least I got ahold of Gage.”

  He set the menu aside. He’d just order coffee and toast. “And?”

  “I asked him and Darcy to check into Karli’s employment records with the circuit. Gage said they’d pay Masterson a visit today. Hopefully there’s something in Karli’s file that will lead us to her true identity.”

  “If she really was using an assumed name.”

  “You still think Karli was lying to Tess?”

  “I don’t know what to think at this point.” Or feel.

  “So we should pursue every angle.”

  “Exactly. Which is why I placed a call to a friend, Luke, with the Marshals Service.”

  “Marshals Service? Why would they . . . ?” Her forehead creased and then her eyes widened. “You think Karli was in Witness Protection?” she said entirely too loudly.

  “Shh.” He glanced around to see if anyone had heard and decided not to mention the potential lead via Scott Bridges until they were on their way to Vailmont. He didn’t want her excited response broadcasting their lead to the whole lodge.

  On second thought . . . maybe he’d wait until his hunch was confirmed. He didn’t want her getting her hopes up, only for them to be dashed.

  “Sorry.” She leaned in, excitement dancing in her eyes. “What did you learn?”

  “Nothing yet. Luke’s going to look into it and call me back. Probably a long shot, but . . .”

  She smiled. “You followed your gut.”

  “And it’ll probably lead nowhere.”

  “Or it may be the key to it all.”

  Piper followed Landon into Vailmont Village. It was more luxurious than Wolf Creek. Signs highlighting their various spa treatments filled the lobby—the airy space an unusual mix of chandeliers and exposed wooden beams. A silver Christmas tree adorned only with burgundy velvet bows glistened in the center of the spacious lobby.

  She felt absolutely ridiculous after her pathetic attempt at flirting last night. No wonder Landon looked so uncomfortable. Poor guy had probably been desperate to flee, and yet . . . he’d seemed reluctant to leave.

  She snagged a brochure from the metal stand to her right and leafed through it. She needed to focus on the case, on proving her brother’s innocence, and let her stupid fantasies of Landon go, especially the absurd notion that he might actually be suffering from the same attraction.

  “So how are we going to do this?” she asked as he directed her toward the lesson desk. They’d discussed the basic plan per Tess’s suggestion but hadn’t delved into specific details.

  “We’ll sign up for the next available class and then check in while we’re waiting.”

  “No, I mean which one of us is going to be the beginner? The lesson pamphlet shows two levels.” She held up the brochure. “Beginner and intermediate. I think we can cover more ground if we split up and each enroll in a different level.”

  “Smart thinking. I’ll take the intermediate.”

  “I knew you’d say that.”

  “Great, so it’s settled.”

  “Not so fast.” She tugged him to a halt. “We’re going to do this the fair way.”

  “Which is?”

  She pulled a coin from her pocket. “Heads or tails?”

  Piper couldn’t help but smirk as Landon shuffled his way to the beginner’s lesson. For someone who’d been skiing nearly as long as he’d been walking, the only way for him to
portray even a remote sense of being a novice was to put him on a snowboard. She’d been trying to get him on one for years, and now that she had, she planned to enjoy every minute of it. Perched on the top rung of the fence rail, she nearly rubbed her mittened hands together in glee.

  Since her intermediate class didn’t start for a half hour, she decided to sit back and enjoy the show. She’d finally get to see Landon out of his element, and his glares in her direction said he wasn’t the least bit happy about it.

  To make things even better, he’d been able to get in the class taught by Samantha Mann, the woman Karli had bumped from this year’s competition—though the registrar had explained with a gleam in his eye that Samantha preferred to go by “Sami, with an I.”

  Piper was a bit less gleeful, however, when Sami walked out of the lodge and approached her class. She was blond, shapely, and gorgeous, and all the male students brightened at her appearance.

  The longer Sami spent with Landon—helping him into his gear, showing him how to balance by placing her hands on his hips—the more annoyed Piper became.

  Maybe splitting up hadn’t been such a great idea after all.

  Sami made a demonstration run down a portion of the bunny slope, sashaying to a stop with a pronounced wiggle of her derrière.

  Oh, please. Piper shook her head.

  “Alaska,” Sami called. “Why don’t you give it a try?”

  Landon pointed to himself.

  “Yes. You.” She smiled.

  Piper waited for a tumble, a fall, anything to echo a novice’s moves, but Landon took off like a shot, whizzing past Sami before sliding to a somewhat shaky stop.

  “Great job, Alaska,” Sami said. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

  “Nope. Guess you’re just a great teacher.”

  Piper strained forward. Was he actually flirting?

  “Intermediate class?” a woman asked, popping her head into Piper’s line of sight. She turned to follow Piper’s gaze and whistled upon spotting Landon. “Quite a view.”

  Heat flushed Piper’s cheeks. “What? No. I wasn’t . . .”

  “Don’t sweat it. I was watching him myself. I’m Mandy.”

  “Piper.”

  “Are you in my intermediate jam session?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You look kind of banged up. Sure you’re up for this?”

  “Always.”

  “Cool. My kinda gal. We’re starting right over there.” She pointed to the group of boarders huddling by the base of lift two.

  “Great.” At least Mandy seemed cheerful. Maybe she’d even be willing to talk.

  27

  Still shocked that she’d managed to talk Gage into waiting in his Rover, Darcy approached Masterson’s trailer. Ever since he’d found her talking with Meredith at the bed-and-breakfast, Gage had been at her side, “keeping an eye on her,” as he phrased it. While she didn’t mind his company, his intentions were clear. He was making sure she kept her focus on Reef’s case and off of the relationship he’d shared with Meredith. She’d barely seen Meredith in passing since that night. Once Meredith realized she knew Gage, she’d kept her distance. Perhaps, she too feared Darcy would poke her nose where it didn’t belong. As much as Darcy wanted to understand what happened between the pair, she’d given her word, and she intended to keep it.

  She glanced back at Gage in the SUV, thankful he’d agreed to let her approach the man alone. Jumpy as Masterson was, he wouldn’t take kindly to one of Reef’s siblings trying to interrogate him, and knowing Masterson’s reputation with the ladies, she’d be far more likely to get the answers Piper and Landon needed on her own.

  She knocked, and a woman answered the door. Tall, slender, and brunette, the woman wore tight jeans, an equally tight red cashmere sweater, and UGG boots.

  She gave Darcy the once-over. “What do you want?”

  Darcy extended her hand despite the frosty welcome. “Darcy St. James.”

  The woman linked her arms across her chest.

  Darcy tried a different approach. “I need to speak with Mr. Masterson.”

  “About?”

  “It’s a private matter.”

  “He’s my husband, so any private matter you think you have with him is completely my business.”

  So this was the often spoke of, rarely seen, Theresa Masterson. Rumor was she’d been quite the ski bunny until she’d wed wealthy, ten years her senior, Rick Masterson.

  “I apologize; I didn’t realize. As I said, my name is Darcy St. James, and I’m investigating Karli Davis’s past.”

  “He’s got nothing to say about that tramp.” Theresa started to shut the door, but Darcy caught it.

  “This has nothing to do with your husband.”

  “But you just said . . .”

  “I should have explained better. I am trying to look deeper into Karli’s past before she joined the circuit. I just need a quick glance at whatever records the circuit keeps on her.”

  Theresa eyed her with suspicion. “What for?”

  Darcy gauged the woman, assessing the best approach to get the information she required. “It seems Karli may not have been who she appeared to be.”

  “Can’t say I’m surprised. She was nothing but trouble. I knew it the first time I saw her strutting her stuff like she owned the mountain. Girls like her are a dime a dozen, and they never amount to anything.”

  “Sounds like you’re an astute judge of character.”

  “Honey, it doesn’t take a genius to peg a hussy.”

  “Do you mind if I come in? I think you may be the first intelligent person I’ve spoken to.”

  Theresa’s already rosy cheeks deepened with color. “Why not.”

  Piper sat at a table in the lodge cafeteria, staring out the nearly wall-length window, wondering where on earth Landon was. His class had been slated to end an hour before hers and still there was no sign of him. She hoped that he’d at least garnered some useful information, something other than Sami’s sign, measurements, or favorite color.

  Unfortunately, she had made the mistake of telling her instructor she was a friend of Karli’s. While she had no idea how Karli had wronged the lady, the fact that she had was abundantly clear. Mandy hadn’t so much as made eye contact with Piper again.

  Two days in British Columbia and nothing to go on, except the possibility Karli Davis hadn’t been using her real name. They needed more—something tangible, factual—to prove her brother’s innocence. And she hadn’t been helping matters any by allowing Landon to consume her thoughts. It was time to focus on the case. Strictly on the case.

  A cold draft seeped through the windowpane. Piper rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them. She still had the uneasy feeling that someone was watching her. She turned and scanned the cafeteria. Everyone was occupied with their own business. Her gaze settled on a man—tall, dark hair with wisps of silver, most likely early fifties—sitting at a table at the back of the cafeteria. He was reading a book while he finished his lunch. He was oddly familiar, though she didn’t know why. Had she seen him before? Perhaps on their flight into Kamloops. She’d been too distracted by her verbal jousting with Landon to pay much attention to the other passengers, but something about him—

  “Hey,” Landon said, and she jumped.

  “Sorry.” He set a steaming mug in front of her. “Thought you could use something warm.”

  “Thanks.” She wrapped her hands around the red ceramic mug, reveling in the heat. She inhaled the sweet, comforting scent of chocolate.

  Landon sank into the chair opposite her, tossing his stocking hat on the empty seat beside him. His tousled hair stood every which way, but he looked downright sexy. “No whipped cream, I’m afraid.”

  Landon. . . . sexy? She really was losing her mind. She lifted the mug and took a sip.

  “How’d your day go?” He asked, tearing into a BBQ sandwich that smelled incredibly good.

  “Not nearly as good as yours,” she muttered.r />
  He wiped BBQ sauce from his lips. “What?”

  “Never mind.” She was being petulant. “Did you learn anything useful?”

  “Not yet, but I’m taking Sami to dinner tonight.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

  “Dinner?” Her throat constricted. “As in on a date?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  She looked down, praying he didn’t sense her disappointment. “I’m just surprised.”

  “Surprised I got a date?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  She scrambled for a feasible response, something other than the silly jealousy swimming inside her. “Just surprised at the pairing.” Much as she had been of him and Becky Malone.

  Landon smiled, but there was hurt hiding in it. “You mean why is a beautiful young lady going out with a—let me see if I can remember how you described me. . . . oh yeah—scruffy grump with no fashion sense.”

  “You’re quoting me out of context.” And that wasn’t it at all. Well, maybe it was partially. She hadn’t pictured Landon being interested in a ski bunny like Sami, but at the same time, she hadn’t pictured Sami picking a man like Landon. “It’s just that ski bunnies usually go for guys like”—she scanned the cafeteria—“him.”

  Landon turned to look at the man she’d chosen—tall, blond wavy hair, classically handsome. He turned back to face her. “Just because you always go for the Ken-doll type doesn’t mean all women do.”

  “I don’t always go for the Ken-doll type.”

  “Brad Williams, Trent Dixon, Denny.”

  “You can’t count Brad Williams. He was nothing more than a high-school crush. We never dated.” Which made her wonder how Landon even knew about her interest in Brad.

  “Trent and Denny?” He prodded with entirely too smug a smile for her liking.

  “Coincidence.” She shrugged.

  “Right,” he drawled. “Call it what you will, but I happen to know that some women prefer a real man to a Ken doll.”

  “Is that right?” There was the obnoxious Landon she knew.

  “Yep. And I’m more than happy to oblige Sami—in exchange for the right information, of course.”