Best Laid Plans (Lucy Kincaid, #9)

Max woke up at 4:30 A.M. in a luxurious suite of the Broadmoor resort in Colorado Springs, cursing Ben for her uneasy sleep. Seeing him and talking about Karen had brought up all the memories, failures, and frustration of that year in Miami after Karen disappeared. Max often had insomnia—she fell to sleep easily enough, but if she woke at two or three in the morning, it was rare she could go back to sleep.

She’d stayed at the Broadmoor many times in the past; it was one of her favorite resorts. The executive suite had a fireplace, balcony and breathtaking view of the snow-covered mountains. Max appreciated quality accommodations, and didn’t mind paying for them. She pulled herself out of bed and decided to wake up with strong coffee and a bubble bath.

Ten minutes later, she sighed as she sank into the hot, scented water. She sipped the sweetened coffee and closed her eyes.

When she should have been relaxing in the deep tub, her thoughts instead went back to Miami, back to when she was twenty-two and enjoying spring break with her best friend and roommate. Columbia had hooked them up their freshman year and it should have been hate at first sight—Karen was everything Max was not. Karen was short, Max was tall; Karen was chatty, Max was reserved; Karen was a slob, Max was neat. Blond hair to red hair; brown eyes to blue; middle-class family to wealthy family.

Yet, somehow, they worked. It was books, Max believed—they both loved books, both were lit majors, and they had the same sense of humor. Better, Karen didn’t lie. She was as blunt and straightforward as Max, and Max ended up trusting Karen more than she did anyone.

She’d needed Karen at a time in her life when everyone she’d known and grown up with proved to be untrustworthy. Her friends, her ex-boyfriend, her family. Max had wanted to be far from home, moving from California to New York, and she didn’t look back. Max didn’t want to care for anyone except herself. She understood—because she had always been honest with herself—that the reason she didn’t want any close friends was because she had abandonment issues. First her mother dumped her on her rich grandparents’ doorstep and walked away, sending her sporadic postcards that had ended abruptly when she was sixteen; then nine years later, her friend Lindy was killed the week of their high school graduation. She didn’t want to get attached to anyone it would hurt her to lose.

But Karen was the type of girl who latched on and didn’t let go. When Max was irritated with her, she called Karen a parasite, impossible to get rid of. But now, more than ten years after they’d met, Max knew Karen was exactly what she’d needed to reconnect with the flawed but compelling human race.

Karen wasn’t perfect. She was a flirt. She drank too much. She slept with the wrong guys and got her heart broken more times in their first year of college than Max had in her lifetime. They needed each other—Karen to bring Max down off her pedestal and enjoy living again, and Max to protect Karen from herself.

But in the end, she couldn’t protect Karen. Karen had disappeared, and though Max and law enforcement knew she was dead, they’d never found her body, nor brought her killer to justice.

The one time Karen lied to her had proved fatal.

Max sighed and stretched. The water had cooled uncomfortably, so she quickly finished her coffee, pulled the drain, and rinsed off under a hot stream of water through the dual jets. She dressed in layers, since the early spring morning was cold, then dried her thick hair and put on make-up while drinking another cup of coffee.

Finally, she felt ready to start the day.

She called room service for breakfast and more coffee. She didn’t like to eat in her hotel room, but she couldn’t bring her desk down to the restaurant and she had work to do.

After room service left, she ate a blueberry scone and reviewed her e-mail. While on the flight yesterday, she’d planned her day, but Max preferred to remain flexible when starting an investigation. She had the basics of the case, but it wasn’t as cut-and-dried as she’d have liked.

First, there were jurisdictional issues. The college was in the county, not the city of Colorado Springs. The campsite where Scott Sheldon had disappeared was in a national park, putting the location under the federal government. The National Park Service rangers were responsible for the initial search and rescue, but they had a joint operation with the county and adjoining cities. Adele Sheldon had told her she filed the missing persons report with the college and with Colorado Springs PD, and Detective Amelia Horn was her contact. Why CSPD? Neither the college nor the campsite was in the city. Who was really in charge? Detective Horn had nothing to add when Max spoke to her, pointing out that CSPD wasn’t in charge.

Max pulled out a trifold board she’d created last night and set it up on the credenza. The time line was clear, even though it made no sense.