Shattered

by Dani Pettrey

  “And?”

  “Large peppermint mocha,” the gal behind the counter called out.

  “Hang on a sec, sis.” He set his phone down and moved for his order. He thanked the lady and slipped a tip into the jar.

  Setting his drink on the table, he retrieved his phone. “You still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. You were saying something about Theresa’s alibi?”

  “Yeah. We confirmed she was a guest at the Kodiak Inn the night of Karli’s murder, and the owner herself vouched for Theresa’s presence the whole night.”

  “Guess we can’t argue with that.”

  “You don’t sound too upset.”

  “Because I think we found something even better.”

  “Oh yeah?” It was about time one of them had good news.

  “Yeah, but we’re going to need your and Darcy’s help.”

  “Name it.”

  Darcy entered the coffee shop, found Gage at the far table, and moved toward him. He looked her way and smiled. She nearly stopped short. She turned to make sure he was in fact smiling at her and was pleased to find no one standing behind her.

  It was the first time he actually looked happy to see her, and while it surprised her to no end, what surprised her more was that it warmed her from tip to toes.

  “Make any more progress?” he asked as she took a seat.

  “Just being thorough.” Why was he smiling so brightly, almost grinning? “What’s up?”

  “Piper just called.”

  She prayed it was good news for the McKennas—after all they’d been through, they needed some good news. “And . . . ?”

  “Landon just heard back from his friend, Luke, with the U.S. Marshals, and Karli Davis was definitely part of the Witness Protection Program.”

  She nearly reached over and hugged him. This was huge. “That’s awesome.”

  “Yes and no.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Luke was able to confirm that Karli was part of the program and that she withdrew of her own accord five years ago, but that’s it. Her file was sealed.”

  “Is that normal?”

  “Luke says who a person was before Witness Protection is usually only known to their handler. Karli’s name shows in the database for the years that she was part of the program, but all other personal information remains between her and her handler.”

  “Did Luke contact her handler?”

  “He’s trying to track him down, but the guy retired shortly after Karli left the program. Sort of went off grid. He gave her a new contact person at Witness Protection should she ever desire to reenter the program—a guy named Scott Bridge. He’s a good friend of Luke’s, so the two of them were able to bypass a few hurdles, but to find out Karli’s original identity, we’re going to need to find Karli’s handler.”

  “Did they give you the handler’s name?”

  “Henry Mars. Last known address was in Homer, Alaska.”

  “Think Kayden will mind flying us over to Homer?”

  “Not for a break this big.”

  33

  Landon disappeared into the gas station as large flakes began to fall. Piper slipped her cell back in her bag, confident Gage and Darcy would be able to track Henry Mars down. The answer to Karli’s murder rested with him, she was sure of it. What she was far less certain of were her emotions. She felt like a preteen dealing with her first crush. Sami’s words at breakfast, and Landon’s obvious discomfort with the topic, caused hope to well inside her—perhaps Landon felt the same way about her.

  She loved Landon—had loved him ever since her family had informally adopted him so many years ago. But what she felt now was love of a different kind. The thrill of butterflies caused by the right guy, the guy, fluttered inside her. At her age, it was ridiculous. That it was Landon was even more ridiculous, and yet . . . somehow it felt perfectly right.

  He returned to the car and handed her a Styrofoam cup. “Tea.”

  “Thanks.” She let the warmth infuse her fingers. “Serious temperature drop.”

  He started the ignition and cranked the heat to high. “We are heading north.”

  “True.”

  “You all right?” His voice was deep, and concern clung to it.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I can see the wheels spinning.”

  She sighed. “They never stop.” Or at least they hadn’t since they’d left Yancey.

  “Want to tell me what’s moving them this time?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I’m not sure.”

  “Not sure what’s moving them or not sure you want to tell me?”

  “The latter.”

  He swallowed. “I don’t want to push you.”

  “That’d be a first.”

  The sharp contrast of the frigid outside temperature with the warmth inside fogged up the 4Runner’s windows, sealing them off from the rest of the world.

  “It’s just I feel . . .”

  “Unsettled?” he ventured.

  “Yeah . . .”

  “About the case?”

  She nodded. But there’s more, so much more.

  He shifted closer. “Anything else?”

  She swallowed. “Like?” She leaned toward him, needing to be close, needing to feel him next to her, yearning for him to say something, anything that might explain how he felt about her.

  He scooted closer still, the warm cedar scent of his aftershave comforting and entrancing. “Something Sami said?”

  She nodded, leaning in until his face was a breath from hers.

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because . . .”

  “Because you don’t really feel that way or because you didn’t want me to know?”

  He held her gaze, passion brimming in his eyes. Passion for her. “The latter.”

  Emotion rushed over her, and she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. It was stupid and impulsive and she never should have, but . . .

  He didn’t pull back.

  His lips were softer than she’d imagined—slow and hesitant at first, but then with a groan he deepened the kiss. His strong hands reached up to cup her face with surprising tenderness.

  Piper entered Glacier Peak resort in a trance, not recalling how they’d made it there. The only thought in her head was the memory of their kiss. Her and Landon’s kiss. It seemed surreal, and yet it had been more real than anything she’d ever felt before.

  “Checking in?” the man behind the counter asked.

  “Yes,” Landon said.

  At least one of them was able to form words.

  “We’ll need two rooms—preferably near each other.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” The man began typing, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he spoke. “How long will you be our guests?”

  Landon shrugged. “A few days.”

  “Wonderful. Can I ask how you heard about us?”

  “Our friend Karli Davis recommended we visit.”

  “Oh . . .” The man looked up, his expression unreadable. “You’re friends of Karli’s?”

  “Yes.” She’d finally managed to form a syllable.

  “That’s strange.”

  “Why? Because she didn’t have a lot of friends?” Piper said, adding a smile. Trying to prove to the man that they knew something about Karli.

  “Yeah, you obviously knew her well.” He smiled. “But no, I meant you’re the third and fourth friends of Karli’s I’ve talked to at this counter in less than a month. For Karli, that’s really strange.”

  “Oh.” Piper tried to curb her excitement. “Any chance you remember their names? We might know them too.”

  “Nah.” The guy shook his head. “Just some dudes.”

  “Were they young? Old? Short? Tall?”

  “The first dude was Karli’s age, my height, dark hair, but the second guy was a bit too old for her, if you ask me, and not really Karli’s type.”

  “How old are
we talking?” Landon asked.

  “Late forties, early fifties. Karli wasn’t exactly picky about age, but he definitely seemed more elderly, if you know what I mean.”

  “He stay long?” Landon asked.

  “Nah. Left as soon as he learned Karli had.”

  “You tell him where she was going?” Piper asked.

  “How could I? None of us knew where she was headed. We didn’t even know she was leaving. Just took off one day.”

  “That sounds like Karli.” Piper smiled.

  “You didn’t know she was headed back to competition?” Landon asked.

  “No. We were all shocked to see her name on the lineup.” His gaze shifted to the door. “Hey, Todd,” he greeted a man entering the lobby. “These guys are friends of Karli’s.”

  Todd’s approach slowed, and he gave them a quick once-over before lifting his chin in greeting. “How’s it going?”

  “Can’t complain,” Landon said.

  Todd directed his attention to Piper, a smile curling on his lips. “You hitting the slopes? You look like a diehard boarder, and we’ve got some killer virgin powder.”

  “Definitely,” she said.

  “Cool.” He winked. “See you out there.”

  Piper unlocked the door to her room, and Landon carried her bags inside. Glacier Peak was a stark contrast to the last two lodges they’d stayed at. Still luxurious, he didn’t really consider it a resort. The grounds consisted of the main building, where they were staying, and a series of cabins for both guests and staff. There were no groomed slopes or chair lifts. If guests wanted to ski or board, they did so via helicopters. One hundred fifty acres of untamed wilderness surrounded the lodge grounds—fresh, untouched powder just waiting to be shredded.

  “Should we sign up for tomorrow’s excursion?” she asked as he set her bags down.

  “Definitely.” He swallowed, wondering how long the pleasantries would last. They’d kissed. He and Piper had actually kissed. And all he wanted was to kiss her again and again. But what was she thinking, feeling? He prayed not regret.

  “Sounds good.” She unzipped her duffel and pulled a sweater from it.

  The room, while well appointed with a large canopy bed and stone fireplace, held a damp chill. “Are you cold?”

  “Just a little.” She rubbed her arms. “I’ll bump up the thermostat.”

  “I’ll make you a fire before I go.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He bent in front of the hearth and got to work. “Looks like you have a new admirer,” he said as he laid a log on the grate.

  “Who? Todd?”

  “I saw the way he gawked at you.” Like all men gawked at her. She was exquisite.

  “Did you also see the way he faltered at the mention of Karli’s name?”

  Landon slipped in some of the kindling provided and reached for the box of matches. “You think they were involved?”

  “Maybe. I’ll see what I can get out of him tomorrow. Sounds like he’ll be part of the excursion.”

  Landon pulled a long match out of the box and struck it on the side. It lit and he carefully caught the kindling on fire. “We’ll both go.” He stood and set the box on the mantel, then moved back toward her.

  “I might get more out of him on my own.”

  “I know, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  The fire sparked to life behind him, the flame spreading from the kindling to the wood. Heat spread across his back.

  “I’ve had an uneasy feeling ever since we left Yancey.”

  “You, relying on instinct?” She laughed. “We must really be in trouble.”

  If he didn’t get out, they would be. His restraint was rapidly deteriorating. All he could focus on were her lips—sweet and full and . . .

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I should go.”

  “Shouldn’t we talk first?”

  Talking wasn’t what worried him. If he didn’t leave soon, he’d be kissing her all over again. “We should talk in the morning. After we’ve both had a good night’s sleep.” After he’d taken a very cold shower.

  “You’re going to get all logical about this, aren’t you?” She sank on the edge of the bed.

  He tried not to picture laying her back on it, her lush brown hair fanning through his fingers. . . . Logical was the last thing he felt at that moment. He cleared his throat. “It’s important to apply logic to an otherwise impulsive decision.”

  She swallowed. “Are you saying what you told Sami about me was impulsive?”

  “Yes.” He should have never admitted his feelings for Piper to Sami.

  Hurt creased her brow. “So you didn’t mean it?”

  Of course he meant it. Meant every word of it. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying we need to think clearly.” He closed his eyes and tried to focus. “We are spending a lot of time together in close quarters. Danger is involved, and . . .”

  “You think it’s not real.”

  He prayed more than anything it was. He just didn’t want Piper to regret anything. To get caught up in the emotion of it all and then realize it was a mistake. That he was a mistake. “I’m just saying—”

  “Never mind.” She stood and moved to the door. “You’re probably right. You should go.”

  He nodded and left, heartbreaking pain raking through him with each agonizing step away from her.

  34

  “Everybody on?” Todd asked.

  “I count six,” the pilot said.

  “Six it is. We’re ready.”

  The propeller started with a whoosh, and Piper sat back for the helicopter ride. Her heart burning in her chest, she longed for Landon to say something . . . anything to break this silence between them. She’d asked him to leave last night because she couldn’t take him reasoning their kiss away so quickly. The taste of him had still lingered on her lips while he tried to convince her it wasn’t real, that their feelings were due to circumstances. While their close quarters amplified things, the feelings had been simmering beneath the surface since last summer. They’d finally broken through, and circumstances or not, they’d need to face them.

  “We’re close,” the pilot said.

  “Go ahead and gear up,” Todd instructed.

  Piper stomped into her bindings and locked them.

  “It’s blustery out there today,” Todd said. “Make sure you cover up.”

  She zipped her jacket over her fleece and yanked on her gloves, praying the excursion would provide a much-needed adrenaline release.

  Todd bent over, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You ready for the ride of your life?”

  She looked at Landon, finally catching his gaze. Their eyes held, and she couldn’t help but wonder if they were on the precipice of something great or about to take a terrible fall.

  “Two minutes,” Todd said. “We’ll do two teams out there. Piper, your friend, and me, drop one. Kurt”—he lifted his chin toward the other instructor—“you and your party take drop two. We’ll rendezvous at base one for lunch at eleven hundred hours.”

  Kurt nodded, and they all prepared for the copter door to open.

  “Ready to roll,” the pilot said.

  “All right.” Kurt rubbed his hands. “Fresh powder just waiting for us. Doesn’t get much better than this.”

  “Remember, be kind to the mountain, and hopefully she’ll be kind to you.” Todd signaled for Landon to jump first. He moved into place and the bitter winter wind swirled in as the door opened to the elements. “You’re clear.”

  Landon glanced back once at her and jumped.

  Todd signaled her to move into place. “We give him thirty for clearance and you’re up.”

  Adrenaline coursed through her as she stared out over the vast snow-covered wilderness. Pristine canvas waiting to be carved. Kurt was right. It didn’t get much better than this. She needed this distraction, this release.
<
br />   “You’re clear,” Todd said.

  With a grin, she jumped. Joy surged as she plunged toward the virgin snow. The tension melted from her body, replaced by the addictive rush of adventure.

  She hit; the powder, thick and fresh, cushioned her impact. She glided over the pristine snow and a few yards ahead spotted Landon waiting for her. As she approached, she pulled a one-eighty across his path.

  “Show off.” He laughed, the heavy weight of seriousness appearing to ease some.

  He pulled in front of her, bending his knees as he swooshed around the natural moguls, kicking a spray of powder up in his wake.

  “Not bad, old man.” She grinned, speeding past.

  “Who are you calling old?” He shot past her again and flew off the precipice. He tucked effortlessly into a flip, his skis perfectly crossed.

  Her breath hitched until he landed, smoothly pulling out and swishing to a stop.

  She hovered at the edge. “Impressive.”

  “Let’s see what you got.”

  “You might want to move back. I go big.”

  He smiled, and she turned to make her run. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind and focused only on the jump ahead. With a push, she dropped into it and pulled a three-sixty as she soared over the cliff.

  She righted and landed, boarding to Landon’s side.

  He clapped. “Not bad for a rookie.”

  “Rookie? Ha! I just schooled you.”

  “Not bad, you two,” Todd called down from the overhang. “I can see we’re going to have some fun today.”

  It’d be a lot more fun if it were just her and Landon.

  “So you’re a friend of Karli’s?” Todd asked, squatting beside Piper as they broke for lunch. They all sat on the canvas chairs the support crew had brought along with their lunch to the appointed rendezvous spot.

  Landon gave her space to converse with Todd but was keeping a close eye on them from his vantage point by a copse of snow-covered trees.

  She wiped peanut butter from her lip. “Yep. I’m a friend of Karli’s.” She was growing more attached to the deceased woman with each passing day, feeling deeply for the loss of life and for the struggles Karli had endured—many self-inflicted, it seemed.

  Todd retrieved his sack lunch from the cooler and settled into the chair beside her. “So how’d you know Karli?”