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sense, strangers who knew far too much about the people and the mountains where Piper now made her home. And far too many “disappearances” of several of the criminal elements in the county.
It was damned freaky.
And she knew Jed was involved in it.
She watched them, she listened to the gossip and rumors that moved through the county, and she had a hell of an ability to tie together things that at first might not appear connected.
It was a talent she’d often heard Dawg had as well.
It didn’t matter what kind of talent she had. She could be as fully trained as any agent who had ever worked with her brother and he’d still treat her like a five-year-old.
And so would Jed.
Pulling the older-model Jeep into the driveway of the post office, she set the parking brake before turning off the ignition and moving from the vehicle.
Sliding the small orange notification card from her purse, she looped the bag’s strap over her shoulder and pushed open the glass door leading into the building.
“Hey there, Piper. ”
“Piper, how’s it goin’ . . . ”
“Hello, Piper, missed you last weekend. . . . ”
“Hey, Piper, Dawg going to let you come out and play this weekend?”
She heard it every time she ran into the usual crowd of summer weekend partiers. Because Piper, normally the life of the party, had been absent or joined by her brother or cousins every time she tried to slip out to one of the lake parties. A Mackay always arrived within minutes of her showing up, and what was the point of staying if she was being guarded? She returned the greetings, answered where she had to, and waited patiently in line to sign for the certified letter she’d been notified was waiting for her.
The New York City address hadn’t really meant anything to her; neither had the name of the sender: S. Chaniss.
Accepting the envelope from the young clerk behind the counter, Piper thanked her quietly before making her way back to the Jeep.
Closing herself in and restarting the ignition, Piper flipped on the AC and quickly tore open the envelope.
She scanned the letter first; then, as disbelief set in and her heart began racing furiously, she read it more slowly.
Her hand began to tremble. Excitement began to build.
She’d been making her own clothing designs since she was a child, and for nearly as long she had been sewing those designs together. She’d learned early how to use a needle and thread, and she’d torn her fingertips to ribbons as a child to perfect each and every stitch.
Now . . . now someone had noticed them. Someone of such renown in the fashion world that she had never imagined he would show an interest in her work.
Eldon Vessante, one of the biggest names in the New York fashion scene, had, for several years, been bringing in hot new designers, up to three a year, and staging exclusive runway shows for them.
By mentoring new talent he’d made an even bigger name for himself, and each designer he’d mentored was still a hot topic among the fashion world. And their designs were still being worn by models, movie stars, and the rich and famous.
Piper had sent several of her designs to the Vessante panel more than a year ago.
No one knew she had submitted the required six designs to the Vessante team. She hadn’t even told her mother. Hell, she’d forgotten about it months ago when no response had been forthcoming.
His assistant had sent the letter—she quickly checked the date—two days ago?
Oh, my God—they had chosen her designs!
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to jump out of the Jeep and announce it to everyone on the street as they made their way into the post office and various businesses that lined the sidewalk.
She wanted to call her mother and Dawg. . . .
