by Dani Pettrey
“I can take care of myself.”
He glanced at her injuries. “Clearly.”
Her jaw stiffened. “I got the information, didn’t I?”
“At what cost? You could have been killed.” Didn’t she understand that? They’d all come way too close to losing her today. He couldn’t imagine a world without Piper, nor would he want to.
He tried to ignore the hum of the air-filtration system, the slow rhythmic drip of the IV, both painful reminders of where they were. Of how close she’d come to being seriously injured.
“But I wasn’t,” she said, her voice gaining strength.
“This time.” He prayed there’d never be a next time. “You’ve got to be smarter about these things, safer.”
“Great. Another lecture.”
Heat coursed through his veins, but he maintained an even tone. Yelling would only shut her down, and he needed her to hear him. “If you’d actually listen, I’d stop giving them.” He studied the tightness in her face, the stiffness in her body. He hadn’t meant to upset her; he’d meant to help. His shoulders slackened. “You don’t understand.” He swallowed. “You don’t know what I thought when Cole called. When he said you’d been in an accident. How I . . .”
“How you . . . ?” she asked softly.
For a moment he thought of telling her everything. How fiercely he loved her. How the thought of life without her was a bleak suffering he feared he’d never be able to endure.
The door creaked behind him.
“Special delivery for Miss Piper McKenna.” Denny entered with a large bouquet of colorful balloons dancing about his head.
“Denny.” Piper’s gaze flashed from Denny to him and back again.
Landon stood. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
“But we weren’t done talking,” she said.
“It’ll wait.” He ducked out of the door before she could argue.
21
Landon hefted his duffel bag higher on his shoulder as he made his way through Vancouver International. He’d left before Piper could be discharged, providing her zero opportunity to join him. She’d be mad when she learned he’d left without her, and he had no doubt that, if he wasn’t fast enough, she’d be showing up as soon as she was able. He would speak with Tess and a handful of Karli’s co-workers and then head back to Yancey before Piper had the chance to leave the hospital. It wasn’t necessary for him to learn everything about Karli’s life; he simply needed to dip into it and determine if anything warranted further scrutiny.
He stifled a yawn, battling the weariness clawing at him, knowing the harder part of the journey lay ahead. A small six-seater was about to replace the roomy commercial jet he’d taken from Anchorage to Vancouver.
He didn’t dislike smaller aircraft, having flown on the McKennas’ floatplane since he was a teen, but this particular small craft would be flying him deep into British Columbia’s rugged wilderness, where rough terrain and dangerous air currents held the potential for a deadly mix.
Reaching the end of the corridor, he pushed open the exterior door, and a swirl of snow gusted in at his feet. Peering through the snow-riddled darkness, he spotted his plane waiting amidst the thickening flakes, the floodlights illuminating the pearly metal against the black backdrop of the night’s sky. Great.
“Hold the door,” a female voice called. An entirely too familiar female voice. It couldn’t be. He’d left her at the hospital last night. Surely they hadn’t discharged her so quickly. He turned to find Piper loaded down with an oversized duffel and several smaller bags, hurrying toward him.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“What?” She shrugged, the bags slipping down her arms. “I wanted to be prepared.”
“Not that. What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the hospital.”
“They discharged me.”
“And, of course, you played no part in making that happen?” She was impossible.
“The point is,” she said, ignoring the question, “I’m free to travel.”
“Congratulations.” He gripped her by the shoulders and spun her around. “Ticket counter is that way. I’m sure they can get you back to Yancey soon.”
“I’m going with you.” She wriggled from his hold.
“No you aren’t. You’re in no shape to be traveling.” All of the bandages on her face except the rectangular one above her right eyebrow were gone, but bruises and scratches remained.
“I beg your pardon?”
It was nearly impossible to tell an adventure athlete she actually required time to recuperate. “I’m worried about you.”
“That’s sweet . . . but unnecessary. I’m fine. Now let’s scoot before our plane does.”
He blocked the exit door. “Piper, you shouldn’t be here. Go back to Yancey. Let me do my job.” He’d never be able to concentrate with her along.
She cocked her head in that way that meant trouble was coming. “We both know I’m going—either with you, where you can keep an overprotective eye on me, or on my own. Which do you prefer?”
What he preferred was to yank her into his arms and kiss her senseless.
“Landon?”
“You’re impossible.” He groaned, pushing open the door.
Blustery wind swirled in as she slipped past him.
“You won’t even know I’m there.” She hurried across the snow-swept tarmac and handed her bags to the waiting attendant.
“Like that’s possible.” He sighed and climbed the metal steps into the Cessna, thrilled with and utterly terrified of being alone with Piper for a few days.
She chose the first set of seats and plopped in the window one. “Can I help it if I’m memorable?”
“That’s one word for you.”
“And you have a better one?”
“Dogged? Stubborn?”
“Very funny. What about you?”
Landon slid into his seat as three passengers shuffled past. “What about me?”
“If we’re pointing out flaws . . .”
“Then you should be at a loss for words.”
“That’s hysterical.”
“That you’d ever be silent? I know, but I continue to hope.” He winked playfully.
“You hope. Now that’s hysterical. You are the most—” She stopped short, her gaze shifting to the pilot, who was watching them with keen interest.
He was young for a pilot—thirty at most. A smile curled on his lips. “Are you two always like this?”
Landon sighed. “Yes.”
“No,” Piper corrected.
The pilot chuckled. “Must make for some passionate nights.”
Piper’s cheeks flushed, and her eyes darted to the rest of the passengers, their attention also focused on them. “We’re not . . .” Her slender finger swished between the two of them. “I’m not . . .”
Landon leaned forward, taking pity on her. “It’s not like that, man.”
“So the lady is single?” He looked at Piper, broadening his smile.
“Well, yes,” she sputtered.
“No,” Landon said, giving his most definitive don’t-even-think-about-it glare.
The pilot held up his hands and turned back to his controls.
“Now who’s being impossible?” she muttered with a sigh.
Landon pulled a file from his bag. “You can thank me later.”
Piper flipped open her magazine. “Ignoring you now.”
He chuckled beneath his breath. She could try, but as easily as she got under his skin, he got under hers. If only everything he felt for her was mutual.
He sat back with a smug smile and settled in for the flight. He’d walked right past them en route to his seat, and neither had batted an eye. He’d followed Miss McKenna, and she’d in turn led him to Detective Grainger. While the good detective’s departure from Reef’s case boded well for him—the sheriff had already pronounced the man guilty—the detective’s little side trip with Piper set him on edge.
There was too much for them to learn, for them to uncover, but it was well hidden. It had taken him a long time to track Karli, and he was excellent at his job. Hadn’t lost a target yet. But they were bright and posed a greater threat together than separately. He’d tail them, and if they got too close, he’d see their investigation ended permanently. But no sense jumping the gun—leaving two bodies and opening a world of speculation. No. He’d bide his time and if the situation required, the rugged Canadian wilderness would provide ample opportunities for “accidents.”
22
Piper followed Landon to the ski instructor’s desk for what would be the third attempt to locate Megan’s cousin Tess. So far either no one at Wolf Creek Lodge knew the lady or no one was talking. Piper, of course, suspected the latter. Everyone became evasive the minute it was clear they were looking for someone.
“Ready for a lesson?” the cheerful gal behind the counter asked. She was young, late teens or early twenties, slim, tall, and blond. She smiled at Landon in a way that made Piper uneasy. What was with these women? First Becky Malone and now this gal, ogling him.
Sure Landon was handsome. He had deep blue eyes, chiseled cheekbones, and a strong jaw. And he was muscular, not in the WWE bulging way that she found a bit much, but in the fit, masculine manner that emphasized his rugged build and strength. He was manly, whereas Denny was refined. Landon was definitely rough around the edges, but she had to admit there was something very enticing about the fresh outdoorsy scent of his aftershave and the five-o’clock shadow that covered his neck before the day was out.
“Nope, sorry,” the lady was saying.
Piper straightened, heat rushing her cheeks. She prayed Landon hadn’t seen her staring at him. She blamed lack of sleep and high altitude for the stupid quickening of her heart.
“Anyone else you can think of who might know her?” Landon continued to press.
Piper reined her attention back to the situation at hand.
The cheerful, flirting girl had pulled back at Landon’s questioning, just as the others had. “Like I said . . .” She handed Karli’s photo back. “I don’t know her or Tess.”
Landon shoved the photograph back in the envelope. “Thanks anyway.”
Piper leaned in to Landon as they stepped away. “What now?”
“Maybe the lift operators will be more accommodating.”
They stepped outside, and snow shifted beneath their boots as they approached the first lift.
Piper eyed the operator. College-age guy—bleached blond hair fringing his shoulders, the chill of winter on his cracked lips. She rested a hand on Landon’s arm. “Why don’t you let me give him a try?”
Landon extended his arm. “Be my guest.”
Giving her hair a quick tousle and her lips a fresh swipe of lip gloss, she approached the young man, praying for any smidge of information that might be of help to them.
She smiled as she approached him. “Hey.”
He glanced from his monotonous task and returned the smile.
“I’m Piper.”
“Zack.”
She waited until he signaled the next group of boarders onto the open chair.
“Nice to meet you.” She shimmied closer, catching sight of Landon’s smirk as she did so.
“Pleasure’s all mine.” Zack winked. “Looks like you took a gnarly spill.”
Piper brushed the hair back from her bruised face. “Not enough to keep me grounded.”
He smiled, clearly impressed.
“You look like someone who knows the ins and outs of this place.”
“Grew up on the mountain,” he said proudly. “You looking for the best run, babe?”
“Always, but that’s not why I’m here.”
His brow hiked up as his grin grew. “Oh, really?” He signaled the next set of riders forward.
“I’m looking for a friend.”
“Is that right?” He stepped closer. “Well, I happen to get compliments on just how good a friend I am.”
She forced back a chuckle. The guy was a player through and through. “I’ll bet you are, but I’m looking for my friend Tess.”
“Oh yeah?” His gaze shifted to the right, to a group of women seated by the fire pit. “How do you know Tess?” He was clearly testing her. One of the women had to be Tess.
“I don’t know her yet. Her cousin Megan told me to look her up next time I was here.”
“So why’d you say you were a friend of Tess’s?”
“Well, I guess I misspoke. I should have said friend of Tess’s cousin.”
“Right.” Zack’s smile faded, and his gaze shifted back to the lift. “Well, I haven’t seen Tess since last season.”
Last season. At least someone had acknowledged the fact that she’d worked there.
“Sorry I couldn’t help.” He shrugged.
Oh, but you have. “Well, thanks anyway.”
“Anytime, darling.”
“That looked like an interesting conversation.” Landon smirked as she walked back to his side. “Did he tell you where we could find Tess?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“And?”
“We’ve just got to sit back and watch.”
“Watch what?”
Piper hopped up on the fence rail, which was positioned out of sight of the lift, but with a direct line of sight to the fire pit. “Which of those girls Zack talks to.” She pointed to the group gathered around the fire.
Landon didn’t question her any further, just took a seat beside her on the rail.
“No.” She tugged his arm, pulling him down to his feet and then toward her. “Stand here.” She positioned him in front of her. “It’ll help shield me and blend us in better.” She lifted her chin, indicating the various couples canoodling around them.
Landon followed her gaze, and then his eyes locked on hers.
Her gaze focused on his mouth—his bottom lip fuller than the top. Perfect for . . .
He tapped her knee. “You still with me?”
“Yeah.” She cleared her throat, embarrassment flushing her cheeks. She gazed over at the fire pit and then to the lift. Zack was gone. She gaped back at the pit. Had anyone left? Six girls. There had been seven. She quickly scanned the remaining faces, trying to picture the one that left. How could I be so stupid? All she had to do was watch, but she’d let Landon get in her head, let her thoughts run away again, and now she’d probably messed up their only chance at finding Tess.
Landon frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s gone.” Zack was quick.
“Who? Tess?” Landon spun around.
“There were seven women. Now there are only six, and Zack is gone. He must have warned her and they both left while I was distracted.”
His brows arched. “Distracted by what?”
“Never mind. It’s not important.”
To her surprise, instead of reaming her out, which she actually deserved, Landon simply grabbed her hand and tugged her off the rail. “I’ll go this way. You go that way. They couldn’t have gotten far. It’s only been a couple minutes. His hair should stand out.”
Landon released her hand and headed toward the lodge. Piper headed in the opposite direction, toward the base of the slopes.
She scanned the crowd, searching for Zack’s bleached blond hair as daylight quickly faded to night. Too many people were gathering, ready to return to the lodge after a day on the slopes. Lifting on tiptoes, she peered toward the fringes and spotted what she thought might be the back of Zack’s head about thirty feet ahead.
She started pushing her way through the quickly amassing throng. “Sorry, excuse me,” she called as she passed.
Her view obscured by the wealth of bodies, she kept pushing forward and rising up intermittently to catch another glimpse of Zack’s blond tresses. He entered the rental shop, and she ducked in after him. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the interior lighting.
Lockers lined the walls, and a bevy of s
kis and boards lined the return counter, and at the far end Zack strode toward the rear door.
She moved toward him, skirting discarded ski boots, hopping over duffels littering the floor.
“Hey, watch it,” someone yelled.
She turned. “Sorry.” Her feet slipped out from under her and she landed—her head, back, and behind colliding with the concrete floor. Pain ricocheted through her.
“You okay?” A man appeared overhead, concern marring his brow.
“Whoa. That was a gnarly tumble.” A ski instructor in a red jacket bent beside her.
“I’m fine.” She stood and her head spun. She had to get out that door and find Zack before it was too late.
“You sure you’re all right?” the man asked.
“I’m fine.” She moved forward, ignoring the pain racking through her head as she darted for the door. Swinging it open, she rushed back into the cold. The wind splashed her face with renewed alertness. She was opposite the lodge entrance. Outside lights were flicking on, illuminating the freshly falling snow.
Her gaze darted to the ground. Fresh footprints led toward the lodge. Hoping she was headed the right direction, she followed, her pulse quickening. The prints quickly disappeared into the hard-packed snow surrounding the lodge deck.
She entered through the side door and found herself at the end of a long hall. Racing down it, her head spun faster and faster until the wildlife-print wallpaper seemed to pop out at dizzying speed.
Rounding the corner, she slammed into a body—hard and unforgiving. Jolted back, she struggled to keep her footing.
“Whoa, there.” A hand reached out and steadied her.
“Zack?” she said, looking up in a haze. Had she actually found him?
“Are you following me?”
“No. Yes. I mean . . .” She scanned the hall, hoping to see Tess, but it was just the two of them. “I just wanted to tell you, if you should run into Tess . . .” What would assure Tess that she was friend not foe?
“Yeah?”
“I’m trying to help a friend of hers.”
“How’s that?”
“I’m trying to find her killer.”
Landon found Piper in the lobby, her back to the fire, her gaze fastened to the Christmas tree.
