Shattered

  “Normally I have a team to do the legwork, but taking into account the distance from my firm and our current workload . . .”

  He sat forward on the sofa. “To be completely frank, I came here as a favor to Landon. Our firm is overloaded right now, but when I heard you were close friends of his, I couldn’t say no. And now that I am convinced Reef is innocent, I can’t in good conscience walk away. But since it is just me, it limits the amount of time I can spend on the investigation. In this type of case, I feel it’s vital to learn all we can about the victim. Who she was involved with, what other potential suspects there might be, how—”

  “I can do that.” He’d just handed her a place to start.

  “Actually,” Harland said as Bailey reentered the room with a mug of cider, “what I was going to suggest is that we need to find somebody with the time and resources to do some digging.”

  Piper’s eyes narrowed. “Why can’t we just look into it ourselves?”

  “For one, most people don’t like to speak with family members of the lead suspect. For another, you really need someone with the expertise to get the investigation done right.”

  “Like a private eye?” Cole asked.

  “Or a reporter,” Jake said as Bailey handed Harland the steaming mug of cider.

  “Thank you, dear.” Harland took a sip before responding. “Precisely.”

  Kayden’s brows pinched together. “How can a reporter help? Aren’t they to be avoided?”

  Gage sighed. “Like the plague.”

  “Reporters are paid to track down information,” Harland said.

  “So are private investigators,” Gage countered.

  “Yes, but reporters are paid by their bosses. With an investigator you have to fork out the money. And people are more likely to spill dirt to a reporter. They feel as if they are giving an inside scoop, whereas PIs can come across as . . .”

  “Intimidating,” Jake supplied.

  “Right.” Harland nodded.

  Kayden’s frown deepened as she turned her stern gaze on Jake. “How do you know so much about reporters?”

  He shrugged. “Just offering suggestions.” When would Kayden stop grilling the poor man? Just his showing up in Yancey with a duffel bag and no history didn’t make him a criminal. It simply made him ripe for adoption into their family. He was hurting. From what, Piper didn’t know, but if they could provide any healing, she was more than happy to do her part.

  “Excellent suggestions,” Harland said. “The choice is yours. There are a couple investigators I can suggest. The one I am most inclined to recommend is currently out of the country; the other is working a case for us up in Fairbanks. I may be able to persuade him to come down for a day or two, but he won’t be cheap, and—”

  “This is our brother’s life,” Kayden interrupted. “We have the money.”

  “I’ll contact the investigator, see when and if he has an opening. But I can’t guarantee he’ll have the time, and quite honestly, I think it best to have someone who can work on this full-time.”

  “So a reporter?” Gage said with a groan.

  “That’s my recommendation. Reporters have access to a lot of things the general public doesn’t, and like I said, people are far more likely to confide in them.”

  “Why would a reporter help us?” Kayden asked.

  “Reporters are always up for a big story, the chance to track down an angle currently unexplored.”

  Gage snorted. “You can say that again.”

  Cole’s gaze shifted to him. “You know somebody?”

  Gage groaned. “I’m afraid I might.”

  Piper didn’t like it. Not one bit. A reporter might have resources she didn’t, but nobody knew her brother like she did. If Harland and her siblings wanted a reporter involved, fine, but she would be digging on her own. It was the only way she could assure the job got done right.

  12

  Drawing in a steadying breath, Gage entered Gus’s Diner. It had only taken a few inquiries around town to track down Darcy St. James.

  Brenda waved as he entered, and he returned the gesture, pausing to wipe his boots on the mat. He quickly appraised the diner patrons. A hearty mix of locals and event folks crowded the tiny space. The scent of vanilla and fresh batter decided his meal of choice.

  Darcy hadn’t arrived yet, which was perfect. That way it would appear their meeting was completely by chance, just as she’d tried to pass off their “coincidental” run-in at the Polar Espresso yesterday.

  He hopped onto the stool at the far end of the counter and shifted to his left so he could keep an eye on the door.

  “What can I get for you?” Brenda asked, tugging the pencil from behind her ear.

  “Stack of flapjacks.”

  “Want a side of meat?”

  “Gus got any chorizo sausage?”

  “Yep. Got a fresh supply in last night.”

  “I’ll take a double side of that.”

  “You got it.” She poured him his usual glass of milk before pinning his order slip on the metal roundabout.

  Gus yanked the ticket, read it, and leaned his upper body out of the kitchen. “Sausage has an extra kick to it today,” he said with a gleam in his aging eyes.

  Gage rubbed his hands together. “Just how I like it.” He wasn’t sure which of them enjoyed spicy food more. Over the years it had turned into a playful competition, each always trying to out heat the other with their latest find.

  Last fall Gus had gotten Gage good with some concoction called Killer Red. While it hadn’t ended his urge to try new things, it had certainly taught him to take a smaller first bite.

  The whistle of the wind drew his attention back to the door. Darcy St. James, today more appropriately dressed in a full-length down jacket and mukluks, entered and struggled to shut the door against the howling wind. He took two quick strides to her side and lent a hand.

  The door shut to the elements, and she sighed with a slight laugh of relief. “Thanks.” She looked up and her smile deviated into a frown. “You!”

  “We meet again.”

  She pulled the gloves from her delicate hands. “And I suppose you’re going to blame me for this encounter as well?”

  “No, actually I was—”

  “Going to tell me what a horrible person I am?”

  “No,” he said, ignoring the irritation she sparked in him. This was for Reef. He had to remember that, no matter how frustrating the woman proved to be. “I wanted to say I’m sorry if I was rude yesterday.”

  “Brutish is more like it.” She took an open stool, and he sat on the one beside her.

  Brutish? Where does this lady get her vocabulary? “Fine, perhaps I was a bit gruff.”

  “And judgmental and arrogant and—”

  “Hey, I call it like I see it.”

  “So do I.”

  “Look,” he said between gritted teeth. “I’m trying to apologize.”

  “You should.”

  “I am!”

  “Good.” She lifted the menu, scanning it.

  The woman was downright impossible, and this was an absurd idea.

  Brenda slid his plate of steaming pancakes in front of him. They smelled fresh and buttery and delicious. “Double order of sausage.” She set the second plate down. “And another milk.” She handed him a fresh glass.

  Darcy’s lips twitched on a smirk.

  “What?” He slathered butter along the golden cakes.

  “Milk?”

  “What about it?” He poured syrup on top.

  “Just not something I often see adults drink, but I suppose that explains it.”

  “Explains what?”

  She fought back a smile. “Never mind.”

  “What can I get for you?” Brenda asked.

  “I’ll have wheat toast and half a grapefruit.”

  “No grapefruit this time of year.”

  “Okay, whatever seasonal fruit you have will be fine.”

  “Wow. You really l
ive on the edge,” he mocked.

  “And you eat like a four-year-old.”

  Spearing a forkful of pancakes, he popped it into his mouth with gusto.

  “With manners to match.”

  “Enjoying my food isn’t proper?” He stabbed another forkful.

  “It’s just the rough enthusiasm you display while eating it.”

  He downed a swig of milk and grinned. “You should see me when I really love something. Enthusiasm doesn’t come close to describing it.” He laughed at the meager plate of toast and canned peaches Brenda placed before Darcy.

  “I’m sorry, but these”—Darcy prodded the slippery fruit with her fork—“aren’t fresh.”

  “This is Alaska, honey. It’s the dead of winter. That’s as fresh as you’re going to get.”

  “I see. Very well.” She laid her napkin across her lap and bent her head in prayer.

  Gage snorted. Figures. Of course she’d be a Christian, just as Meredith had been. Apparently being a Christian and acting like one didn’t necessarily go together—which was precisely why he wanted no part of the religion.

  “Why are you still here?” she asked, not bothering to hide her irritation.

  “I’m eating.” He winced as she took a bite of dry toast. “Aren’t you going to put something on that?”

  “I like it like this.”

  “Sure you do.” He glanced down the length of her. “In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t need to be dieting.”

  “I’m not dieting; I’m eating healthy.”

  “And jelly is full of poison?”

  “No, but I prefer to be sensible.”

  “How’s that working out for you so far? Must be a wild ride.” He shook his head. He knew women like her. So controlling they couldn’t let themselves experience anything that might jolt their daily regimented routine.

  “Why am I explaining myself to you again? And why are you still here?”

  “I’m eat . . . ing.” He knew precisely what she was getting at, but he was simply having too much fun vexing her to let the cat out of the bag yet.

  “Since it appears I’m going to have to spell it out for you . . . Why are you eat . . . ing with me? I thought you wanted nothing to do with a vulture like me.” She studied him a moment and her eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. . . . You want something from me.”

  Fun time was over. “What could I possibly want from you?”

  She pondered a moment—he could practically see the wheels spinning. “You need a reporter, need someone to dig up dirt.”

  She was good. He’d give her that much. “And why would I come to you when there’s a ton of more experienced reporters all over town?”

  She mulled that over, her shoulders dipping slightly.

  Gage smothered a smile. He had her right where he wanted her.

  She snapped her fingers. “Because for some reason you’ve decided I’m curious enough or desperate enough to go on some wild-goose chase.”

  “It’s not a wild-goose chase. It’s the chance to prove a wrongly accused man’s innocence.”

  “You think your brother is innocent?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Despite the fact he was caught in the act?”

  “He wasn’t caught in the act. He found her that way. You know, for a reporter you really have a problem getting your facts straight.”

  “I have my facts straight.”

  “You only have the facts they want to share. There’s a whole other side to the story.”

  “Such as?”

  “I’m not willing to share private details with someone who isn’t at least interested in finding the truth.”

  She shifted to face him, her shoulders squaring. “I assure you, I am after the truth.”

  “Even if it contradicts the facts being presented?”

  “I stand by the truth, not the party line.”

  He smiled. “Well then, there may be hope for you yet.”

  Reluctantly, Darcy rode with Gage to the McKenna family home, and after brief introductions and everyone joining in to explain the plan, Kayden said, “So you see . . . we need somebody to track down the other leads.”

  Darcy shifted in the oversized armchair in the McKennas’ family room. They had ideas, perhaps, but not leads. Not yet.

  “We need somebody who knows how to dig for information, somebody who has access to sources we don’t,” Cole said.

  “So you want me to find out if there’s anything the police are overlooking? You want me to poke around and see if anyone else had cause to kill Karli Davis?” Precisely what she had already planned to do, but now she’d have the McKennas’ cooperation and backing behind her.

  “We know our brother is innocent,” Piper said.

  “We just need help proving it,” Kayden added.

  “We can always go the private investigator route if you’re not interested.” Gage was trying to play it cool, but she knew they needed her help—he needed her help.

  “I’ll do it, but on one condition.”

  Gage smiled as if he knew what was coming. “Which is?”

  “You don’t mislead me, don’t keep any secrets from me. I can’t do my job if you’re hiding stuff from me.” She was after the truth.

  Gage stood. He was much taller than she when they were both standing, but with her seated, his six-foot-three frame flat out loomed over her, leaving her surprisingly more impressed than intimidated. Despite his poor eating habits, he was in great shape—long, lean, and sculpted.

  “Did you hear me?” He waved a hand in front of her face.

  Embarrassment rushed her cheeks. She’d been too busy staring at the man to listen to him. “I’m sorry—could you say that again?”

  “Gladly.” He linked his arms across his chest. “We will be honest with you, but this isn’t a free license to dig into our personal lives. This is about Reef and Karli—period.”

  He didn’t want her digging into his past with Meredith. While the relationship had piqued her curiosity, it wasn’t why she was considering joining them. “Agreed, but you need to understand that you can’t try and protect Reef by keeping things from me. I need the truth.”

  “Fair enough,” Cole said.

  “I have one condition,” Piper said, standing. “You talk to Reef.” She quickly continued, “Not for a story. The entire conversation needs to be off the record. I want you to talk with him and decide for yourself if you believe he is innocent or not. If you believe he’s guilty, there’s no sense moving forward.”

  Astute. “Okay.” She needed to do that for herself, anyway. If she believed him guilty, she’d be upfront with them. She was an ethical reporter, unlike some she knew.

  “There’s one more thing,” Jake said. He’d been silent until then—appraising her, assessing the direction of the conversation. He’d been introduced as a close family friend, but there seemed to be a weird dynamic between him and the older sister, Kayden. To be honest, Jake intrigued her. She was usually a quick judge of character, but he did elusive well.

  “Yes?”

  Jake addressed the McKennas. “You should seriously consider having her sign a nondisclosure agreement for anything she might learn that is not pertinent to the case.”

  Kayden’s eyes narrowed. “How did you come up with that?”

  Jake shrugged. “Law and Order.”

  “Right,” Kayden said slowly, clearly not buying it.

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Cole said. “I don’t think we need to bother Harland with it, though. I’ll see what Gus can draw up.”

  Darcy had seen a flyer posted in the diner regarding the owner providing the town with general legal assistance—par for the course in this wacky but somehow charming town. She nodded. “Fine with me.”

  If she believed Reef innocent and was going to move forward working with the McKennas, she had no qualms with signing a nondisclosure agreement. It was only right. “In the meantime,” she continued, “I’ll speak with Reef.”

/>   Cole gave a nod of agreement. “I’ll let Landon know you are coming.”

  “Landon? As in Deputy Grainger?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Hmm. So there were more connections than she’d realized. She stood and collected her bag. “I’ll speak with your brother and be in touch.”

  “Thanks for coming.” Cole shook her hand. “And for considering our proposition.”

  “I’ll take her back to the hotel,” Gage offered.

  “Thanks.” She’d ridden from the diner with him and had no way of getting back on her own.

  She followed him to his Land Rover, completely decked out with roof-rack, roll bar, and snorkel. She could only imagine the adventures he’d had in it.

  “I appreciate you hearing us out,” he said, starting the ignition.

  “Wow. So you can be sincere,” she said half playfully and half as a barb for his earlier treatment of her.

  He winked and chuckled with an edge of bitterness. “Don’t get used to it.”

  13

  Slidell stopped Landon as he headed for the station parking lot. “Would you like to explain why a reporter is interviewing Reef?”

  “She asked permission to see him, and he obviously consented. There’s no law against him having visitors.” He didn’t feel the need to share the fact that the McKennas had sent her over. That was their business, not Slidell’s.

  Slidell’s eyes narrowed. “Where are you off to?”

  “Got someone I need to see.”

  “This better not be some wild-goose chase.”

  “All part of a thorough investigation,” Landon said, stepping out of the station into the falling snow. Large flakes stuck to the brim of his hat as he walked to his truck, and he tried not to think about how much Piper loved snow. Tried not to think of Piper, period.

  Darcy walked straight from the sheriff’s station to Last Frontier Adventures, the shop the McKenna family owned and ran. Gage told her he’d be working the rest of the day and she could contact him there if she decided she was in.

  “Wipe Out!” greeted her arrival, and she took in her surroundings. Hawaiian leis topped the displays, lit palm trees stood in the corners, and the scent of coconut swirled in the air.