Schooled in Revenge (6 page)

“Let’s throw him to the dogs,” Reena suggested, voice hard as she motioned toward the outdoor pen where the Akitas were still barking.

“Don’t worry.” Sarcasm was thick in Cruz’s voice. “She doesn’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” Reena said.

Cruz glanced over at her before returning his gaze to the thief. “Okay, maybe she does.”

Takeda spoke for the first time since they’d brought the man inside. “Cruz,” he said, “what should we do with him?”

Cruz seemed to think about it. “I suppose the dogs do sound hungry,” he finally said.

Takeda’s face was impassive.

Jon stepped forward. “I say we take what he has. An eye for an eye, right?”

“Wait!” Jane pleaded. “Don’t you think we should know his story first?”

“We tried that,” Cruz answered. “The guy won’t talk.”

Takeda looked at Ava. “Do you not have an opinion?”

Ava did, but she was still trying to figure out if it was based on evidence or her lack of sleep.

“I think we should let him go,” she finally said.

Everyone grew quiet as they turned to stare at her. Then the room erupted into chaos, each of them giving their own reasons why they thought Ava was crazy.

“Wait.” Takeda’s voice cut through the noise. He nodded at Ava. “Continue.”

“The thing is,” Ava began, “he only took our personal items. Pictures, old letters, mementos from our past… Why would he bother? Plus, he shouldn’t even know where the satchels are hidden.” She paused, turning to the wall of the meditation room and removing a panel, revealing a hole where the satchels had been stored. She looked at Takeda. “Only we know that, and only because we were with you when you stored them away.”

“Go on,” Takeda said.

“Well, look at the timing. He broke in forty minutes ago, when we were all awake and outside, easily able to hear any noise he might make.”

Takeda raised one eyebrow. “So?”

Ava took a deep breath. “So he’s not a thief.”

The room erupted again into protests.

“Look at him,” Ava said, nodding to the man sitting calmly on the wooden stool. “The window’s wide open. If he thought he was in danger, why didn’t he just jump out the window? I mean, if he can break in, it seems to me he could probably break out. It’s not like we tied him up or anything.” Ava continued, more sure of herself now that she’d said it all out loud. “He’s not a thief. He’s a test. Hired by Takeda to see how we would handle the situation. To see what kind of justice—or mercy—we would exact on him.”

The room was silent as everyone took in Ava’s words. Reena’s expression was tight, her face a mask of barely contained anger.

Takeda simply nodded. “You have exceeded my expectations.”

Ava bowed. “Thank you, Sensei.”

Takeda walked over to the man on the stool, patted his back, and spoke to him in Japanese. The man chuckled and stood, turning for the door.

“You may all retire for the evening,” Takeda said. He picked the satchel up off the floor and handed it to Jon. “Please, secure this in its proper place.”

Jon bowed. “Yes, Sensei.”

The others left, crunching across the broken statue outside the meditation room. Stepping outside, Ava kneeled on the gravel, picking up the porcelain shards.

“Some things cannot be fixed,” Takeda said, stopping at her side. “We can only let them go.”

“But it was so beautiful,” Ava said, an irrational burst of sadness rising in her chest. She had walked past the statue a hundred times and never even noticed it.

Takeda bent next to her, picking up one of the jagged fragments. He studied it before speaking again.

“Objects are of little value. It is the lessons I impart that will prove long-lasting.”

Ava looked at the face of the statue, still intact, her green eyes reflected in the angry, expressive face engulfed in flames. “What does it mean?”

“Acala is said to protect all the living.”

“Why is he on fire?” Ava asked, trying to fit two of the broken pieces together.

“It is said that burning away all weaknesses is the only way to find truth. To achieve enlightenment.” Takeda stood. “Good night, Ava.”

He left on silent feet, swallowed by the night only seconds later.

Ava rose, wanting to clean up the broken porcelain before she went to bed. She was turning to go when she noticed a small fragment of Acala’s flame on the ground near her feet. She picked it up, the porcelain glimmering in what was left of the moonlight.

She tucked the piece into her palm and went to look for a broom.

Ava let the broken pieces slide from the dustpan into the waste bin. Then she put the broom away and went inside. Jon was still there, tightening the panel onto the wall. He looked over his shoulder at her.

“Hey,” he said, turning back to the panel.

“Hey. How’s it going?”

“I think I’ve just… about… got it.” He gave the panel one last shimmy. A solid click sounded through the room. “There.” He turned to her. “I’m surprised you’re still up.”

“I wanted to clean up the mess outside before I went to bed.”

He nodded, his eyes lingering on her face. Ava was suddenly aware of their solitude in the meditation room. Everyone else had gone to bed, the tera and its residents finally settled down for the night. The waves crashed against the cliffs below, a rhythmic lullaby that was the only sound in the still night.

She had a flash of his lips, warm and insistent against hers, before they’d been interrupted on the cliff. And here they were again, just inches apart, like the universe was conspiring to throw them together in spite of the danger.

And there
was
danger. Of losing focus. Of opening her
heart to someone who was still grieving the loss of his dead fiancée. Of opening her heart to anyone, for that matter.

She tried to calm the rush of desire in her veins. “I guess we should go to bed.”

He held her gaze a moment longer before turning reluctantly away. “I guess so.”

Ava was halfway to the door when she heard Jon’s voice behind her.

“What the…?”

Turning around, she saw Jon studying something against the wall. She walked over and leaned in, her eyes finding a tiny crack in the rice paper paneling of the meditation room wall.

“What is it?” Ava asked.

Jon reached out, pushing gently against the wall until a huge rectangle seemed to open up in front of them, the panel swinging inward.

A hidden door.

Jon grabbed a candle from a nearby altar and stepped toward the dark recesses of the room beyond.

Ava put a hand on his arm. “Do you think we should?”

He turned to her, indecision in his eyes. “You probably shouldn’t. I don’t want you to get in trouble. But I’m going to see what’s in here.”

Ava sighed and followed him in.

The room was so dark she couldn’t see anything beyond the small circle of light cast by the candle. She grabbed on to Jon’s arm, giving her eyes time to adjust to the blackness around her. It didn’t help much, but a few seconds later, Jon extended his arm, holding the candle out in front of him and moving it around until Ava could make out the contents of the room.

It was tiny, not much bigger than a closet. There was a small writing desk against one wall, a simple stool, and an unlit candle, burned halfway down. There were no pictures on the wall, no personal effects to hint at the room’s purpose or owner, although Ava had to guess it was Takeda.

Jon stepped toward the desk, a stack of files sitting neatly atop its surface. Setting the candle down, he picked them up, opening the one on top.

“Jon…”

He ignored her, setting the file down and opening the next one. And the next and the next.

“These are ours,” he muttered.

“What are ours?” Ava asked.

“The files.” He picked up the first one from the desk. “This is mine. Information on the people who destroyed my life.”

Jon handed her the folder. She flipped through the contents, past schedules, calendars, receipts, and repeated mentions of a man named Frederick Cain.

Ava closed the file. “Is mine in there?”

He met her eyes in the flickering light of the candle.

She held out her hand. “Let me see.”

He hesitated before turning back to the stack of files, riffling through them until he got to the one he was looking for. He handed it to her.

She knew the folder was hers, but somehow she was still surprised to see her name scrawled in black marker across the top left corner. It felt like a violation. An intrusion on the past that belonged only to her.

But that was stupid. That Takeda knew about her past had never been a question.

She bent her head to the papers inside the file, immediately transported back to Starling Vineyards. Napa. Home.

There were documents detailing Ava’s family history, land surveys of the vineyard, copies of deeds old and new, even Ava’s college transcript. Most importantly, there was information on the people who had taken it all away.

She came to the end of the file, her eyes falling on a black-and-white photograph of Charles Bay, smiling into the camera. Even now, it was like a punch to the stomach, one that brought memories she wasn’t at all prepared to face.

Ava and Charlie walk hand in hand across the cobblestone streets of St. Helena, a modest diamond glittering on Ava’s finger. The sun is shining, the air warm and arid in a way unique to Napa and Sonoma counties. Ava shields her eyes against the sun, and Charlie stops to remove a pair of sunglasses from the outdoor display of a small boutique.

He puts the glasses gently on her face. “Perfection.”

Ava laughs, but Charlie takes a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket and hands it to the store owner, an older gentleman with a receding hairline and growing waistline.

“Can’t let the lady suffer,” Charlie says, winking at him.

Charlie puts his arm around her and they continue walking.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says.

“What, the sunglasses? Ava, it’s okay, I want you to—”

She stops walking, forcing him to stop, too, and pulls him out of the walkway. “You don’t owe me anything. This is something I want to do. For us. So no more thank-yous, no more gifts, no more—”

Charlie leans in, kissing her.

“Well, okay, you can keep doing that,” she says, still surprised by the effect he has on her. They laugh. She looks up at him as they continue walking. “We’re in this together, right? Forever?”

He nods slowly. “I just want you to be sure.”

They finally come to a stop in front of a small office, an old wooden sign swinging from the façade: L
AW
O
FFICE OF
M
EYER
H
ERMAN
& D
UNN
, E
SQUIRE
.

She looks into his eyes. “What about you? Are you sure?”

He squeezes her hand. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”

She smiles. “Me, too. The land, the winery, my home—our home—it’s all I have left of them. My parents. Grandma Sylvie. I want to share it with someone. With you.”

He leans in, kissing her tenderly. “I love you, Ava, and purchasing that land in the Loire Valley will be an incredible way to expand the winery—and your family’s legacy.”

“Are you sure I can’t see the land first?” she asks. “I’d really love to.”

Charlie sighs, shaking his head. “I know, love. But we talked about this. The season is kicking into high gear around here. I thought you couldn’t get away?”

“Well, yes, not right now,” Ava says. “But in a few months—”

“In a few months it will be gone. It’s such a rarity for a property like this one to come on the market. And at least I was able to see it when I was last in France.” He pauses. “Maybe we should take our chances. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with the idea.”

But Ava doesn’t want to lose the property. Doesn’t want to disappoint Charlie when he’s worked so hard to help her with the vineyard, when he’s put so much faith into their future.

“And once the deal goes through…”

“Just like we talked about,” he says excitedly. “You’re only granting me power of attorney so I can sign the deeds to the Loire Valley. When the deal is done, we’ll put everything back in your name.”

It’s time to move on. Time to put the sadness and loss of the past aside for a joyful future with Charlie.

She takes a deep breath. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”

Charlie crushes her in a quick embrace before opening the door to the law office and ushering her inside.

“Why would Takeda keep this stuff from us?” Jon said, leaning against the wall.

Reena was sitting on the floor next to Cruz, each of them paging through their files. She’d assumed Takeda knew things about her, about the death of her mother, but she’d been shocked silent by the breadth of his knowledge. Even she, someone who rarely apologized for herself or her behavior, was embarrassed by the revelations. The drunkenness, the partying, the sleeping around… Everything that had come before her mother’s murder.

“Maybe part of revenge is learning about our enemies so we can take them down the right way,” Ava suggested, sitting at the old wooden table that functioned as a desk in her room.

Jon paced. “These files have everything I need to track and confront Cain. What’s the point in waiting?”

“Takeda has a reason for everything,” Ava said. “If he hasn’t shown us these files, it’s because he doesn’t think we’re ready.”

Reena was only half listening, her eyes drawn to a photograph of a middle-aged man with piercing eyes. “Cruz, look at this.”

He reached for the photo. “Is that Senator Wells?”

Reena swallowed, trying to quell the dread creeping through her bones. “I think so.”

“Wait a minute,” Ava said. “Isn’t Senator Wells the guy who took over after—”

“After my mother was killed?” Reena said softly. “Yes.”