A POST-ADRENALINE headache brewed, but Landon was too edgy to rest. Cradling Ciara’s little dog, she paced at the rear of the park’s small café while Constable Zerkowsky conducted interviews. She pinched off another bite of ham sandwich and fed it to Moxie.
Ciara would be horrified.
Seeing her draped across the rocks, so vulnerable and still… The hollow sensation lingered in Landon’s stomach. Maybe Shaun felt the same way. While she’d chosen to wait, he’d demanded to go first and get it over with. Without trying to eavesdrop, she’d learned his name on paper was Edgar John Riggs, with Shaun being an unusual derivative of John.
Now, after Emmalee the gold panner, Judy the park employee, and a few campers who’d wandered onto the scene and either heard the scream or seen someone running, Zerkowsky beckoned Landon to the corner table he’d claimed as a desk. Broad-framed and on the short end of the police height spectrum, he always projected calm and order. “You okay? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
Landon perched across from him and braced Moxie on her lap. “They’ve been so kind to let me bring him in here.”
“They’re good people.” He took a sip of water. “How’s Anna?”
“Much better, thanks. She’s almost her old self again. Hearing about Gord set her back, but she’ll be all right.”
“And you?”
“I thought this was a safe place. Not the park but the whole region. Rural, edge of nowhere. Safe. But I’ve been nearly drowned, held at gunpoint, trapped to die in the dark. I almost lost Anna—then Gord was killed. Now Ciara’s been attacked. All this in less than four months!”
Heat flooded Landon’s chest. Blinking, she snapped her mouth shut. Where had all that come from, and how could she have spewed it at him?
He held eye contact, his features impassive. His head dipped in a small nod.
The nod did it. Calm touched her spirit like a cool, gentle breeze across fevered skin. She was seen. Heard. And it was okay. Her ribs unlocked, and she could breathe again. Somehow she felt that to apologize would be to negate the gift. “Thank you.”
“Any time. So what can you tell me?”
Fingertips smoothing the dog’s short hair, she gave him every detail she could, which wasn’t much. She’d seen no one in the area prior to the attack.
Zerkowsky’s heavy brows drew together. “Nobody passed the two of you on the trail? You didn’t meet anyone on your way to the car?”
“I heard people off toward the campsites, but otherwise no. And the trees aren’t thick. I’d have seen anyone lurking near the path.”
“He could have ducked down the steps to the first cave or deeper into the woods, and you wouldn’t have seen him. We’ll canvass all the campers and scout possible hiding places, but his footprints will look like anyone else’s.”
“So you’ll be a while yet.” She’d hoped he could drive her home. Anna couldn’t come until today’s guests arrived, but Bobby or Roy would pick her up. Not that a four-legged passenger would be welcome in the convertible.
“Dylan said to tell you he’ll take you back to the inn. He’s out looking around now. I’ll finish up when we’re done here.”
“Thanks. I should learn to drive. It didn’t matter in Toronto.” She fished Ciara’s keys from her pocket and plunked them on the paper placemat. “What do we do about her car?”
“Leave it here for now, and someone can pick it up later. I’ll clear it with the park people.”
“Then I’ll keep the keys. I need to get Moxie’s booster seat anyway.”
“Booster seat, huh? My dog’s a shepherd. All she needs is a harness clip so she doesn’t go flying if I stop short.” Zerkowsky extended his index finger for the small dog to sniff. Moxie stood tall, tail wagging as if he’d made a new best friend. “Dogs like me. It comes in handy once in a while.”
“You couldn’t take him while Ciara’s in the hospital, could you?”
“Man, I wish I could. But my wife and I both work, and our dog’s not mature enough to be left alone with him. I can recommend a kennel if you need it.”
Ciara treated her pet like royalty. Sending him to a kennel, however nice, might feel like another assault. Could she even afford it on her gift-shop wages?
Zerkowsky gathered his notebook and pushed back his chair. “I’ll go find Dylan. Take it easy on yourself the next little while, okay? Your system’s had a shock. And give my best to Anna.”
Landon collected the rest of Moxie’s sandwich from the other table and led him toward the door.
Judy waited at the entrance, balancing an empty brown tray. She stepped aside to let Landon pass. “He says I can clear up now and reopen. Suppertime crowd is small this time of year but they’ll be in tonight and looking to trade stories.”
“Thank you for everything. You’ve been so kind.”
Judy scowled. “This person harmed an innocent woman on our property. He’s scared off a few campers and we’ve had to bring in security to patrol the trails. We want him caught almost as much as you do.”
People didn’t toss random strangers off cliffs. This had to be personal even if they didn’t see the connection. Yet how could they be sure? The campers and day visitors had a right to be concerned.
Out in the fresh air, Landon scooped up the dog and carried him to the far end of the parking lot. With her back toward the cliff, looking out over green grass and sparkling blue ocean, she extended his leash so he could roam and sniff. She was staring seaward, praying for Ciara, when Dylan called her name.
Moxie spun, yipping furiously.
Dylan gave his head a slow shake. “The things I do in the line of duty. Let’s go.”
“Not a dog person, huh?”
“Dogs are fine. That’s a lap ornament.” He stopped Landon with a touch to her shoulder. “Bridgewater hospital reports she’s awake but in a lot of pain. How are you?”
“You know I wasn’t with her, right?”
“Zerkowsky briefed me.”
Had he mentioned her mini-meltdown? “Right now, I’m concerned about Ciara and about what to do with this pup I’ve inherited. Unless you want him.”
He snorted. “The line of duty only extends so far. If Anna can’t keep him, find a kennel.”
“Dylan, some creep just threw Ciara down the side of a mountain. If everyone rejects her pet, she’ll feel like we’re throwing him away too.” She shut her eyes, forcibly unclenching her jaw. “I’m not asking you to take him. I just—any attack is a form of violation. We can’t do anything that makes it worse.”
Cupping her elbow, Dylan started them moving toward the patrol cars parked at the trailhead. “I understand. Between you and Anna, you’ll find him a place.”
“Let me get his stuff from her car.”
“He rides in the back. You can sit in front.”
In the time it took to figure out how to detach the booster seat and secure it in the rear of Dylan’s cruiser, Moxie sprayed the nearest tire.
Dylan snickered. “One less thing to worry about on the road.”
Once Landon clipped the dog into his seat, he snuffled the fluffy lining and curled up. “Poor little guy, he must be exhausted. That fleece probably feels like a security blanket.”
“Yeah, he’s smart enough to know she’s hurt. Too bad he can’t talk. We’d have a good witness.”
“Shaun saw the attacker from behind. Did you find anyone who saw more?”
“Not so far.”
Dylan opened the front passenger door for Landon and swept papers off the seat. He tucked them into his pocket and tossed a brown paper takeout bag into the rear. “Welcome to my mobile office.”
“You’ll be checking on Ciara tonight, right?”
“After I drop you off.”
She held out Ciara’s key ring. The silver ball bauble jingled as she passed it over. “Take her these?”
Rolling his eyes, he scooped it from her palm. “Will do.”
He slid behind the wheel. As they passed through the gate, he said, “Why don’t you lean your head back and rest? You must be tired too.”
Landon watched the passing trees instead. Anything to keep from imagining Ciara and the crime scene.
She hadn’t told Dylan the full truth. Sure, she was troubled by the attack. But she was also angry. More angry than made sense. Something about seeing Ciara’s sparkle crushed had lit a protective fire.
Not that Landon could do anything. Even in a fair fight, the weak always lost to the strong. And this sneak assailant didn’t fight fair.
She couldn’t make it right. But she couldn’t let it go.
~~~
Landon barely glanced at the bright orange marigolds and yellow pansies in the inn’s signature green fishing dory as Dylan passed it on the way up the driveway. Any other day, the vibrant colours were like an energy drink for her spirit.
Dylan pointed to the dirt-crusted car parked beside Anna’s silver sedan. “Somebody’s been cruising the back roads.” He stopped in front of the barn. “I’ll help you unload the dog seat. Hope the official vehicle doesn’t scare these guests.”
In June, he’d been here to follow up on Anna’s prowler trouble when a couple arrived to check in. One sight of the police car had the wife acting like they’d be murdered in their beds, and Anna had to find them another spot in town.
With Dylan carrying the bulk of Moxie’s travelling gear and Landon holding the squirming animal, they followed the slate path behind the inn. Dylan set his load in a corner of the deck. “I have to get going, but I’ll check in later.”
“Thank you. For all you’ve done.”
As he drove away, she tied Moxie’s leash to a deck rail. “I’ll bring you a drink in a minute.”
The little dog busied himself sniffing everything in reach.
She was filling a plastic bowl at the kitchen sink when Anna came in. “I thought I heard Dylan. Did he go too? How was the park?”
If Anna had seen the vehicle he was driving, she’d have known he was on duty. Landon shut off the faucet and turned, careful not to spill the water. “Ciara’s hurt, so Dylan brought me home. I have to find a place for Moxie.”
A sharp bark drifted through the open kitchen window in response to his name.
Anna’s expression clouded. “Timkin won’t tolerate him here. But what happened to Ciara?”
“Let’s go outside.”
Moxie stood stiff-legged as close to the door as he could get, white tail waving.
Landon set the bowl at his feet. Then, instead of joining Anna at the glass-topped wicker table, she prowled the wooden deck, her steps short and choppy. Retelling the story drove the anger deeper. When she finished, she leaned against the railing, back to the forest, facing the inn.
Anna’s broad forehead furrowed. “The poor girl. Which hospital did they take her to?”
“Bridgewater. The EMTs said she might need a CT scan.”
“I imagine they’ll keep her at least overnight. We need to find a spot for her dog. Preferably before Timkin decides to show up.”
“I wondered about Quinn. He has a soft spot for strays.” It could well be the sullen teen’s one positive feature.
“No, Tricia has too much on her plate right now, and she’s not as well as she could be.”
Quinn lived with his grandparents a few houses away. His attitude appeared to be softening since the prowler incident, but Tricia and Blaine still seemed worn down and anxious.
Landon withdrew her phone from her pocket. “I’ll text Bobby and see if he and Roy can help. If not, we’ll track down Nigel.”
“I hate to interrupt his writing.”
Bobby always said he wouldn’t stop for a text alert if he was working, but she rarely waited long for a reply. Today, she had time to walk an antsy Moxie to the tree line, keeping a lookout for the inn cats, before he called. Five minutes later, as she unwound the dog’s leash from the base of a sturdy pine, Bobby emerged from the path connecting the two houses through the woods.
“You told me about Ciara, but not about yourself. Are you okay?” Here under the trees, his blue-grey eyes were dark and searching.
If he detected her troubled emotions, he’d understand. But she didn’t need to make it obvious. “It’s a lot to process. I’ll feel better when we know how badly she’s hurt.”
“I can drive you in to see her if Anna’s tied up here.”
“For now, it’s huge that you’ll take Moxie.”
“Yeah. About that.” He snapped a dry twig from one of the trunks and twirled it between his fingers. “He’ll be confined to my room except for potty breaks. I forgot Gramp’s allergic.”
The amber and white Chihuahua nosed the leaves of a poplar sapling barely taller than his head.
“Poor little guy. I’ll try to find him another spot.” She pictured Ciara unconscious on the stretcher. This was the one thing she could do.
“Is it just him, or does he come with food and stuff?”
“I guess for tonight look online for what human food he can eat and don’t tell Ciara? She’s pretty particular about him.”
“I hope His Royal Highness can handle wearing the same jewelled collar two days in a row. Her last job must have paid well.”
“Leave his car seat here so it doesn’t affect Roy. If Nigel will take him, Anna’ll need to deliver him anyway.”
Bobby held out his hand. “I’ll take escort duty from here.”
She passed the leash over with exaggerated dignity. “The little prince is officially in your care.”
“As you wish.” His lips quirked into an odd grin. “Keep me posted. Come on, little dude.”
Moxie stood still, oversized eyes fixed on Landon. She knelt and rubbed his ears. “It’s okay, buddy. She’ll be here for you soon.”
He swiped at her wrist with his tiny pink tongue, then gave in to the taut leash and trotted away beside Bobby.
Landon collected the pet paraphernalia and headed inside. Step one—wash the wet seat pad. Step two—contact Nigel, who refused to use a phone. But as she closed the basement door on the sound of water pouring into the washing machine, the inn’s landline rang.
Anna’s “Good afternoon, Green Dory Inn” filtered from the private sitting room. Getting Nigel’s mother’s number to leave a message would have to wait. Landon walked along the hallway toward the front of the building, sneakers squeaking on the aged-honey hardwood, and jogged up the stairs.
A door latch clicked as she reached the second floor. A man and woman stood outside the Schooner Room. Landon stepped toward them. “Welcome. I’m Landon, Anna’s helper. I’m in the Butterfly Room, across from you.” She pointed to the rear of the inn.
The petite black-haired woman extended a hand, a silver bracelet accenting her delicate wrist. “Kimi and Ken Sanu. Pleased to meet you.”
Their handshakes both carried the restrained confidence of long-term business success. No need to impress or one-up, just a security and a sense of purpose. In his mid-to-late sixties, Ken kept himself clean-shaven with short grey hair. Crinkles at the edges of Kimi’s eyes suggested a similar age, but her glossy pixie cut was a perfect midnight black.
A slight paunch padding Ken’s golf shirt added to the impression of a comfortable life. He nodded as if in recognition. “Anna mentioned you’re a friend of Ciara Williams. We knew Ciara in Vancouver, and we hope to reconnect while we’re here.”
What if Ciara didn’t recover? She’d been so pale. Could a person die of internal bleeding? Bracing her core, Landon shunted the fears away. Dylan had promised to let her know as soon as the doctors let them take a statement. Calling before then would be useless.
Ken’s eyes had narrowed, his brows drawing together. “Is there a problem?”
“Ciara’s in the hospital in Bridgewater. Someone pushed her off a cliff today.”
While Kimi gasped, Ken’s posture took on a stillness as if he were listening. Or waiting. Then he strode toward the conversation nook. “We need to hear the full story.”
Kimi reached out as if to stop him. “Our dinner reservations.”
“Will wait.” He claimed one of the three blue fabric club chairs facing the dormer windows above the front door.
After placing her designer handbag on the wooden coffee table, Kimi sat beside him.
Landon perched on the edge of the third seat, hands on her knees. “I’m sorry to give you bad news.” Out on the bay, stiff little waves marched in formation. Impersonal. Life kept moving while the weak got tossed aside.
For once, the sight of nature repelled instead of comforted. She concentrated on the Japanese couple, straightened her spine, and forced her anger deeper. This was about Ciara. Landon’s emotions had to stay out of it.
The basics didn’t take long to tell. “My friend on the police force will let me know when it’s okay to call.”
Ken leaned back in his chair, elbows on the armrests, fingers spread and steepled. “So it’s not known if she saw her attacker.”
“The police may know by now.” Unless her injuries required emergency surgery. Landon ground her teeth. “She didn’t deserve this.”
“Nobody does.” Kimi rose and circled the coffee table to kneel beside Landon. She held Landon’s hand in a soft grip, a faint citrus fragrance sharpening the air. “Your friend is hurt, and it hurts you too.”
The gentle affirmation almost undid Landon. Eyelids squeezed tight, she tensed her whole body. Letting the tears out meant another win for the attacker. He wouldn’t know or care, but this was the one fight she had left. One tiny act of resistance. She strained for one deep, silent breath after another, blessing these compassionate strangers who waited with her in the battle instead of fussing or trying to fix everything. Kimi kept a light pressure on her hand.
At last, Landon met the woman’s warm gaze. “Thank you.” She glanced over at Ken, still seated as if he had no plans to move. “But I know your reservation’s waiting. This evening I should be able to tell you more.”
“I hope so.” Kimi squeezed her hand before releasing it. She rose to her feet with a dancer’s grace. “It sounds like a frightening experience.”
Ken stood and passed his wife her purse. “We can stop by the hospital after we eat. I want to see for myself how she’s doing.”
“We’d better not. The surprise could distress her.”
“Did she know when you were coming?” Ciara hadn’t mentioned anything to Landon.
Ken shook his head. “We haven’t spoken since she left. She recommended the inn to a mutual acquaintance.”
For all Ciara’s confident persona, some kind of trouble lurked in her past. She’d told Landon her reasons for returning home were complicated, and the other night visiting Orran, she’d spoken of coming back to figure things out. Things here or things from her time on the West Coast?
Landon studied Kimi and Ken. “How did you know Ciara?”
One corner of Ken’s mouth pulled down. “I was her boss. Kimi’s right. A surprise visit wouldn’t be appropriate. We’re here until Friday. Plenty of time to reconnect before we leave, and I trust it won’t have to be in a hospital setting.”
They said goodbye, and Ken ushered Kimi to the stairs, fingertips at the small of her back.
Landon pulled the pewter butterfly key fob from her pocket and unlocked her bedroom door. The warm peach walls welcomed her, lit by sunlight from the window at the base of the sloped ceiling. Through the glass, trees in the mixed forest stood strong and patient—waiting with her in this pause.
She kicked off her canvas sneakers and flopped backward onto the four-poster bed. One hand dragged the butterfly-shaped accent pillow to support her head. If Dylan didn’t call soon, she’d try the hospital anyway.
Her phone’s vibration woke her with a jolt. Dylan? Ciara? Sitting bolt upright, she peered at the display.
Zander. Stifling her impatience, she accepted the call. “Hi, Zander. Are you home yet?”
It was a two-day drive. Two long days. But before he left this morning, he’d been bragging about the distance he could cover, and the joke might divert him. He did not need to know anything else dangerous had happened in her vicinity.
“I’m in Quebec. I stopped for gas and checked the news feeds—I see a woman was hurt at The Ovens today. Wasn’t that where you were going?”
Landon dropped her forehead into her palm and closed her eyes. Ciara’s name would be made public soon, and Zander would recognize it. “Someone attacked my friend when I left her alone.”
“Hold on.” A muted clicking sounded on the line. Zander’s turn indicator. “The news report said she fell. What happened? Is she all right?”
Telling her trauma story in therapy had been part of releasing the past and leaving it behind. Telling Ciara’s, over and over again while it was so fresh, pumped lava through her veins. By the time she finished answering Zander’s questions, heat radiated from her skin. Ciara’s attacker was strong, but her anger felt stronger.
“I’m going to find him.” She snapped her mouth shut so fast her teeth clicked. Opened it again to take the words back.
The burn in her heart wouldn’t let her. She focused on the canvas prints on her wall. A monarch butterfly and a Canadian tiger swallowtail. The monarch’s vivid orange and black pulsed in her vision like a rising, avenging fury. She blinked it into stillness and flattened a hand to her thudding heart. She was going to do this. No matter what she’d told Meaghan about being done with mysteries, she would fight. Because Ciara couldn’t.
The phone still rested against her ear. Silence. Had the call dropped?
Then Zander cleared his throat. “I know you want to help your friend, but you need to trust the authorities to do their job. Promise me you’ll stay out of their way.”
Her gaze lingered on the vibrant butterfly prints. Earthbound creatures transformed to take flight. She hadn’t come out soaring from her experience, but maybe she’d emerged stronger. It was time to find out.
“I won’t interfere. But Ciara must know something that’ll help us identify him. She’ll open up more to me than to a stranger.” Even to Dylan, despite her flirty ways.
“Landon, please…”
“I saw her on the stretcher.” A shudder rocked her. “Limp and pale and helpless. Broken.”
When they first met, Zander said Landon reminded him of his dead daughter. In those days, she’d thought helping her was a form of tribute to the love he’d lost.
This drive to defend Ciara, to bring justice—maybe this was why Zander did what he did. Not out of compassion for the present victim, although he had that. Because the link to his pain made it personal.
Because it was a way to fight back.
Landon surged to her feet. “I will protect and support my friend. You, of all people, should understand.”
“I do understand. But remember what happened this summer. Don’t risk your life—or your ongoing recovery.”
“I’ll only be asking questions. Anything I learn will go right to the police. Don’t worry. I may want to pound this guy into meatloaf, but I wouldn’t seriously risk confronting him.” Been there, done that. Learned the hard way.
“Fine.” Clipped. Decisive. Harsh in her ear. “I have a few fires waiting on my desk. I’ll get home, put them out, and be with you Friday. Thursday, if I can. Don’t do anything rash.”
Her stomach clenched. “You don’t have to—”
“Landon, you do what you have to do. But allow me to do the same. I can’t lose you too. See if Anna has a room for me.” He cut the connection.
With a slow whistle, she dropped the phone on the bed. She’d defied Zander. One of the people she most respected.
But she needed to do this for Ciara.