Final Resort (9 page)

ELEVEN

S
ometime later Ava found herself back in her trailer. She had only a vague recollection of Luca pulling her up out of the snow and carrying her to the car. When they arrived back at Peak Season, Stephanie stripped off Ava’s wet jeans and bundled her into a robe and warm socks, forcing a mug of tea into her hands.

“I’m fine, please leave me alone,” she remembered saying.

And now she was.

Alone.

The old clock above the door ticked away the seconds, the minutes.

She could not think. She could not feel.

The phone rang. She answered with a hello, normal, routine, as if it was any other day, as if she hadn’t just kissed her uncle’s cold cheek before the coroner took his body away.

“Avy,” her father said, “Luca called me. I’m on my way just
as soon as this infection clears.”

Something hard and angry rose inside her. “No,” she said, her voice oddly flat. “I don’t want you to come.”

A pause. “I know you’re upset. I want to help. I love you.”

“I know that, but you didn’t love Uncle Paul.” She swallowed against the thickening in her throat. “You despised him.”

He sighed. “But you loved him, and I know you’re hurting.”

“I don’t want you here, pretending you’re sad.” The tears fell now, coursing down her face and soaking into the threads of the robe. “There’s a pack of people in this town who wanted Paul dead, and now he is. I’m sure they will be celebrating.” Her tone was strident, grating in her own ears.

“Stop that, Ava.”

“Mom wanted you to love Paul and you didn’t. You hated him.”

“Not
true.”

“Yes, it is. All those fights. ‘He’s stealing you blind,’ you’d say to Mom, but all she wanted was to take care of her brother. You should have tried to love him.” She was sobbing now. “Mom wanted you to love him and so did I and now it’s too late.”

“Ava,” her father said, voice broken. “Your mother and I loved each other, that’s what mattered.”

“So why did she kill herself,
then, Dad?” Ava cried. “Answer me that? If she loved you and me so much, then why did she drown herself in that lake?” The words burned her throat like acid, but she could not stop. “Mom left us on purpose. She turned her back on you and me and God and left us.”

“We don’t know what happened in those final moments. She was sick. She struggled with depression all her life. You know that.”

His voice seemed to come from very far away.

“She was weak and she left me. She left me.” The phone was slick in her tear-wetted hand. “Uncle Paul left me, too, but at least he didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I will come when I can, Avy, and we’ll talk this out.”

“No,” she sobbed. “I don’t want anyone with me. Leave me alone.” She slammed the phone down. It rang several more times,
but she did not answer.

Her heart was iced over and only a dull throbbing ache penetrated the chill.

People passed by outside the trailer. She heard Bully, demanding answers from Luca and Stephanie who conversed with Sergeant Towers. She dimly remembered talking to him after they took her uncle away.

There would be an autopsy.

She would be notified when the body would be released.

Then there would be a funeral, she supposed. But who would come? Besides herself, who would care that Uncle Paul was dead? Killed by whoever dragged him out of her hands?

There was a knock on the door. She didn’t move. Another knock, then Luca stuck his head in.

“May I come in?”

She nodded, even though she did not want to see Luca, another person who probably thought the world
was better off without her uncle in it.

He stood hesitantly by the kitchen table, hands in his pockets. “Just wanted to see if you needed anything.”

“Nothing, thanks.”

His eyes roved the trailer, scanning everything but avoiding her face. “I’m not too good at saying the right thing. Seems dumb to ask how you are in view of what you’ve just experienced.” He cleared his throat. “I
just want you to know that we’re going to help in any way we can.”

“To find Paul’s treasure?” she said quietly.

He blinked. “Yes.”

She regarded him silently. “Because you’re a treasure hunter?”

Luca moved closer and sat on a chair. “Because the treasure will show us the truth.”

“About what happened to him.”

Luca nodded. “Ava, I know how much he meant to you, and I’m
really sorry. I’m praying for you. I want to help somehow.”

She rose and turned her back on him. “Don’t pray for me, Luca. It’s a waste of breath.”

He moved to her then, put his hand on her shoulder, gently, as if she might break. His fingers stroked her shoulders tenderly. “When Victor lost his first wife, we were there in the hospital praying with all our strength for her to pull through.”

Ava turned around and found herself in the circle of his arms. “But she died.”

“Yes, she did.” His eyes played over her face, the warmth of his hands the only thing she could feel.

“Even though you prayed, begged, entreated on your knees, God let her die.” Her voice broke as she said the words.

“Yes.”

“Then how can you still pray, Luca?” She felt suddenly desperate to decipher
what she saw shimmering in his green eyes.

He was silent for a moment. “Because He never promised a pain-free life for any of us here. It’s just a stopping point along the way to somewhere better. I believe He knows how hard that is for us sometimes.”

Deep grief and fear circled through her. She pushed her face to his, pressing her cheek hard against his chin. He responded by tightening
his grip. Suddenly she wanted to lose herself in that embrace, to stay there and let Luca Gage drive away the dark shadows that crowded in all around her. “I feel like I’m drowning. I can’t pray. I can’t pray anymore.”

He clasped her close. “Then I’ll pray for both of us.”

She stayed there, listening to his breathing, slow and steady, the soft murmur of his words. Her heart slowed until
it matched his, beating sure and steady. Her body responded to his, melting into his arms in a flood of sweet emotion until the pain overflowed the comfort. Luca was here for the pearl. Not for anything else. She broke away.

“All right. We’ve got to find this treasure my uncle was hiding,” she said, wiping her eyes.

He gave her a questioning look. “Are you sure you’re up to this, Ava?”

“It’s the only way to find out what happened. If he hid something, he would have left it at Whisper. I’ll call Sue Agnoti and let her know we’re coming. She’ll want to know...” Ava swallowed. “I’ll tell her about Paul, too,” she said softly.

Luca still looked uncertain. “If your uncle hid something on Whisper Mountain, then chances are somebody else knows about it.”

She resisted
a shiver. “Do you think that’s who was looking under the trailer last night? Maybe even the same person who abducted him?”

“I don’t know, but I think until this thing is over we should be cautious.”

He said goodbye and left, reluctantly, she thought. She watched out the window as he marched, shoulders hunched in thought, to his trailer. Would there ever be a time when she would not mourn
the loss of her irascible uncle? Or the ache of her mother’s tragic decision?

It was as if she could still feel the warmth of Luca’s skin against her cheek.

It’s just a stopping point along the way to somewhere better.

She wondered why the feel of his arms around her lingered in her heart, lifting one tiny corner of the smothering curtain of grief.

* * *

As the afternoon
crept on toward evening, the details were settled. Sue insisted that Ava, Luca, Stephanie, Tate and the ever-present Mack Dog, come and stay at the lodge. She and her husband would see to the details.

Luca got into the driver’s seat of Ava’s car, worried when she didn’t fuss about it. She was quiet, eyes deeply shadowed, lips tightly shut. He wished she would talk, snap at him, something.
Instead, she remained silent as they headed up the mountain toward the defunct resort.

Stephanie and Tate followed behind. The road was plowed until they turned off the main stretch and began the steep ascent toward Whisper Lodge. He saw signs that a snowplow had made a stab at clearing the accumulation from the previous night’s storm, but the pass was covered anyway which made for slow going.
The chains on the tires dug deeply into the steep grade as they ascended. Even though the top of the mountain was close, a heavy screen of trees nearly obscured the waning sunlight.

“What do Sue and Harold do, exactly?” he asked, more to make conversation than anything else. He wanted to hear her voice.

“Tend to basic maintenance, really. Keep bears and trespassers out. They got married
about five years ago and they make a good team.” She sighed. “They’ve been trying to do some improvements since we...since I’m going to sell the place.”

There it was in her voice. Defeat. It sickened him. Why did his father’s acquisition have to mean defeat for Ava? The thought twisted inside him like a knife. “They’ve been busy,” he said, pointing to a pile of freshly fallen logs above the
road. “Cutting down some dead trees.”

She didn’t answer.

He thought he saw a flicker of movement in the snow just past the fallen pines, so he braked gently, and Stephanie and Tate slowed behind him.

“Must have been a critter,” he decided, moving forward again, the engine whining with the effort.

Ava answered her phone which Luca hadn’t heard ring.

“Yes?” She listened
hard, knuckles white. “What does that mean?”

Luca hoped it was good news.

Ava asked several more questions which let Luca know it was the police on the other end. She disconnected and exhaled. “They called to say they’ve traced the Taser back to the manufacturer. They should have an answer on who owns it by tomorrow.”

“Good,” Luca said.

“They’ve also suspended the recovery
efforts at the crash site.”

He wasn’t surprised. “Meaning that the driver of the snowmobile might be dead and buried under a blanket of snow until the springtime thaw.”

“Or he walked away from the crash and left my uncle to die.”

Walked away from the crash...and headed up to Whisper Mountain? He tried to refocus on their ongoing hunt. “Steph sent pictures of the pearl earring to
Victor. He’s probably been up since he received it, researching. If it was owned by the Danson family, Victor will find out.”

Ava gave him the ghost of a smile. “I remember him as being the serious type.”

“Yeah, driven and smart as they come. I guess that’s why he became a heart surgeon while I went for helicopters.”

“You liked the shiny machines?”

He laughed. “That and I can’t
keep still for too long.”

Her smile wavered. “Reminds me of my uncle Paul. Always in motion.”

He squeezed her hand and she let him for a moment as they drove by another small pile of logs.

This time, the flicker of movement wasn’t his imagination. Maybe it was a man, maybe a woman, but someone fled behind the stack of logs as Luca stopped abruptly, staring into the snow.

“There,
I just saw someone right there,” he said, stabbing a finger out the window.

When the logs began to tremble he gave the car as much gas as he could, but the snow worked against the spinning tires. Too slow. The logs came loose and rolled down the slope, picking up speed on the way.

Sluggishly, the car moved forward, but it was not enough.

Luca could only stomp on the gas, urging
the car forward ahead of the careening logs, praying that Stephanie and Tate saw the oncoming danger.

“Hang on,” he shouted to Ava who clutched her seat belt strap with both hands.

The log continued to plunge toward them, gaining momentum on the icy surface.

Luca fought the wheel. Two more feet and they would move alongside a tree. It would be enough to deflect the blow.

The
car bucked and shimmied on the snow as sweat beaded on Luca’s forehead.

“It’s coming too fast,” Ava yelled.

She was right, the log was coming on like a missile, directly for the passenger side where Ava sat.

He had only one option left.

Yanking the steering wheel and stomping on the brakes he put the car into a spin. In a dizzying blur the vehicle cooperated, swinging around
so the rear end was in line for collision.

He yelled again for Ava to hold on, but his words were lost as the log struck the back of the car so hard that he could feel the metal crumple behind him. Glass exploded into tiny bits.

The log skipped over the top of the hood and continued its insane trip downslope. Luca had no time to relax because his vehicle, crumpled and smashed, was also
sliding down the steep slope, heavily peppered with trees. The brakes were useless. No traction. No way to slow the vehicle.

“We’ve got to jump,” he yelled over the sound of the bottom scraping over the ground.

She nodded, face composed, fingers curled around the handle.

A cluster of thick trees swam closer through the blur. Yards away, then feet.

“Now,” he yelled.

Ava
yanked on the handle and the door opened, letting in a blast of cold air and flying snowflakes. With one more glance at him she leaped from the car.

Relief surged through him as he pulled the driver’s side handle.

As the brown tree trunks appeared before him through the cracked windshield, he realized that the angle of the sliding car had piled the snow so tightly against his side that
the door was effectively wedged closed.

He held up an arm to shield his face as the car hurtled toward the trees.

TWELVE

A
va found herself on her back in a pile of snow, the breath driven out of her by the impact. She sat up, head spinning in time to see Stephanie and Tate running toward her.

Stephanie helped her up, her eyes scanning frantically. “Where’s Luca?”

Tate continuing on down the slope toward the crashed car, slipping and sliding. “The driver’s door didn’t open,” he yelled.

Stephanie stiffened as if she’d been struck, and Ava’s breath caught.

They both looked toward the ruined car, now smashed against the rough bark, a waft of smoke emanating from the crumpled hood.

Luca hadn’t made it out.

The thought kept running through Ava’s mind as they ran to join Tate who was yanking with all his strength on the door. Far away she could hear Mack Dog’s muffled
barking from inside the other car.

She drew close, felt the terror rising in her stomach. What would she see through the ruined glass? She had a desperate need to look away, to hide her eyes, but her gaze remained riveted to the crumpled metal. If he was hurt...or worse...she could not bear it.

“It’s jammed,” Tate called, hustling around to the other side. The passenger-side door had
slammed shut again but not fully. It took Ava a moment to force her feet into motion.

As he reached for the handle, the women at his heels, a booted foot punched against the door.

“Luca.” Ava felt as if she had screamed the word, but it came out no louder than a whisper.

Luca’s head and shoulders appeared, face wet with blood. He blinked and shook the glass from his hair. Her vision
blurred for a moment, and she blinked away tears.

“Don’t you move,” Stephanie said. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

Luca took a deep breath and winced. “No need for an ambulance, but I’d sure like to talk to the cops about who sent a pile of logs down on us.”

Ava felt the breath go out of her, and she was suddenly dizzy. Tate grabbed her elbow. “Easy.”

“Are you hurt?” Luca said,
wiping at his forehead.

She took a few steadying breaths. “I’m okay. Just trying to take in what just happened.” In truth she was so relieved to see Luca safe that it overwhelmed her. She didn’t understand why. He wasn’t her family, and certainly not a boyfriend. She wasn’t sure they qualified as friends. Perhaps it was thinking about another violent death so soon on the heels of Uncle Paul’s
that made her uncharacteristically weak. Still, her stomach remained wrapped tightly in knots.

Tate peered down at the runaway log which was now wedged against a pile of rocks. “You think someone sent the logs down on purpose?”

“That’s exactly what I think,” Luca growled.

Against Stephanie’s barrage of warnings, Luca got to his feet, sending another shower of glass sprinkling down.

Ava’s mind raced. Luca should not be sitting out in the cold, and his wound needed treatment. The weather report spoke of a storm approaching, a big one, and the gathering clouds confirmed it. “The lodge is only about a mile up the road. I think we should head there. Who knows how long before the cops arrive?”

Stephanie agreed, and Tate helped extricate what they could of their baggage.
They made their unsteady way back up to the car. Luca accepted a slobbery welcome from Mack Dog, and they piled into the car. Stephanie sat next to Luca in the back, pressing a corner of scarf to his bleeding forehead.

Ava was glad to be in the front with Tate, Mack Dog squeezed at her feet. She did not want to be near Luca now, not until her cascade of emotions settled down. But as they
passed the familiar outbuildings and pulled up to the rustic wood-sided Whisper Mountain Lodge, Ava could not ignore the mixture of nostalgia and pain that whirled through her.

Lights glowed softly in the curtained windows and softened the signs of age and neglect. Overgrown pines crowded the roof, the long stone walkway that had not been cleared of snow meandered by the sign hewn by her
grandfather out of granite: Whisper Mountain Lodge, Gem of the Sierras.

The irony struck her.

Gems.

Were they the cause of her uncle’s death?

The treasure, whatever it was, had cost much more than it could ever be worth. He was gone, and Whisper would be sold. The new owners would probably tear down the old buildings, install modern facilities to offer the newest and best luxuries
to visitors.

The door flung open, and Sue Agnoti rushed out.

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry about Paul. I...” She broke off in midstream as she took in the sight of Luca.

Harold joined her in the doorway, a few inches shorter than Sue, with sparse gray hair and a face seamed by wrinkles. He frowned. “What happened to you?”

“Had a little accident with some logs back on the main road,”
Luca said.

“Logs? I can’t believe that.”

Sue elbowed him. “Harold, let them into the house at least.” She ushered them in. “This is my husband, and he’s got no manners. I’m so sorry. What can we do to help you?” she clucked as she escorted them down the hallway and into the cheerful kitchen where a platter of brownies sat on the kitchen table.

Harold looked Mack Dog over. “Okay
to put him outside?”

“No,” Ava said. “I’m sorry, but Uncle Paul wouldn’t want Mack Dog in the cold.”

“That’s right,” Sue nodded. “He never would see fit to have that dog anywhere but by his side, and he told Harold as much.” She sent her husband a disapproving look.

Harold shrugged. “Doesn’t seem right to have an animal in our kitchen, is what I told him, but he never listened.”

My kitchen. At least for a little while longer.
Mack Dog settled himself on the floor with a wary eye on Harold, as if he could read the man’s thoughts.

Stephanie forced Luca into a chair. “Cops will come when they can.” She shot a look at Ava. “I’m afraid your car is totaled.”

Ava sighed. The car was her only vehicle, and she had no idea how to come up with the money to buy another
until Whisper finally sold. For some reason, it did not seem to matter much. Luca took the towel Sue offered him and wiped at his forehead. He only succeeded in smearing the blood rather than wiping it away. Ava took the towel from him and pressed it firmly over the wound.

He put his hand over hers. She tried to tell him in that touch what swirled around her heart, the profound gratitude
she felt that he was not badly hurt, the flicker of terror she’d experienced when he hadn’t gotten out of the wreck in time. And something else, that strange wash of a deeper emotion that she could not name. Instead she said, “That was some good driving,” and pulled her hand away.

“Not good enough,” he said. “We almost got steamrolled.”

Harold’s eyes bugged out. “Listen here. I cut and
stacked those trees myself. Put wedges in between them and made sure they were dead on steady. No way they rolled down on you.”

Luca straightened and winced. “Do I look like I’m making all this up?”

Stephanie took over. “Someone helped the logs along, Mr. Agnoti. Is there anyone working here besides you and your wife?”

“Nah,” he said. “Just the two of us.”

Ava caught the odd
look Sue gave her husband before quickly looking away.

“Just the two of us,” Sue echoed softly.

* * *

After Ava was settled into a small bedroom in the main lodge, the one her uncle stayed in frequently, the rest of them were installed in a separate little cottage, one that Luca suspected Sue and Harold used to live in when the resort was bustling. An upstairs loft area provided
some privacy for Tate and Stephanie while he bunked in a small downstairs room with a window that looked out at the main lodge. A lone rag rug was the only spot of color to liven up the palette of brown cushioned furniture and paneled walls.

Stephanie surveyed the place with a resigned look. “Not four-star, but it’s better than the trailer,” she said as she headed upstairs to unpack. “At
least we convinced Mack Dog to leave Tate and stay with Ava for a while. I was beginning to feel jealous.”

The place was musty. Even though it showed some signs of hasty cleaning, it clearly had not been in use for some time.

Harold knocked on the door. When Stephanie let him in, he dropped a paper grocery sack on the counter. “Some supplies. We don’t keep much on hand anymore. Just
stocked up because the next storm rolling through’s supposed to be a bad one.”

He turned to go.

“Mr. Agnoti, when was the last time you spoke to Paul?” Luca asked.

Harold turned slowly. “He was here a couple days ago, but I didn’t talk to him. Popped in and out over the years since Mrs. Stanton died. Never knew how long he would stay.”

“Did you notice him acting strangely?
Secretively?”

Harold sighed. “Listen. I’m a simple man. I try not to get involved in things. If you want to know what Paul was up to, you’d better ask Sue.”

“Were they close?”

“At one time they were, a long time ago.” A look very like sorrow crossed Harold’s face. “Paul was one of those men women like. Good-looking, fancy talker. Charming, is how Sue would put it, I guess.”

“And your wife didn’t mention anything about Paul’s plans?”

He rubbed his forehead. “She doesn’t have much to say to me anymore, period.” Before Luca could ask anything further, Harold had left, closing the door hard behind him.

Stephanie and Tate joined him.

“Sounds like Harold and Sue are not in the happiest of marriages.”

“Too bad,” Tate said, putting his arm around her shoulders
and kissing her on the temple. “Marriage is the best.”

Luca smiled, but he felt a pang in his gut. Tate and Stephanie fit together like two puzzle pieces in spite of their opposite personalities. God brought them together, he was sure, even though they had to go through some horrifying times before they realized it.

He thought about Ava, what she must be feeling staying in the room her
beloved uncle so recently made his home. Drifting to the window he looked out on the impossibly perfect mountain peaks, dusted with snow, impervious to the frigid conditions that battered them. Maybe Ava would become like them, hardened by the pain she’d experienced, unable to express the love and gentleness he knew filled her soul deep down.

A light flickered on in her bedroom window.

God, give her some peace,
he prayed.

* * *

Luca was staring at his computer screen, eyes burning when the sound of a car pulling up the road brought him to the window. It was not the cops, as he’d expected, but a small sedan. He recognized Charlie Goren immediately as the man struggled free of the car, holding on to his hat against the freshening wind.

Why Goren? Why here? Had
he come to express his condolences? Didn’t seem like something the nervous little jeweler would do. Stephanie and Tate were getting a walk in before the weather worsened and the sun disappeared. Luca pulled on a jacket and returned to the main lodge.

Sue had settled Goren into a comfortable room which must have served as a recreation spot at some point. Shelves filled with board games lined
the walls and jigsaw puzzles almost overflowed a long wooden table.

Goren sat on a sofa upholstered in the same red checkered material as the curtains. Luca wasn’t sure how to play it. If the man had come to express his sympathies, then Luca had no business intruding. Ava looked up from her seat near the fire crackling in the old stone hearth. She gave him a small smile and gestured him over.

He moved to a chair. “Hello, Mr. Goren.”

The man nodded. “Hello. I’m sorry to intrude.” His eyes darted from Luca to Ava. “I’m not sure I should have come.”

Sue handed them each a thick mug filled with coffee. “If you were a friend of Paul’s, then we’re glad to see you,” she said, taking a seat on the other side of the hearth.

Goren’s face showed evidence of a struggle. Luca
guessed “friend” might be too strong a feeling for someone who had cheated Goren.

Harold passed by. He looked at Goren and nodded slightly. “Going to town for batteries and water. Storm will be here tonight.”

Sue did not answer and Harold left.

Goren cleared his throat. “I should make this quick with bad weather on the way.”

Ava nodded encouragingly. “What did you come to talk
about?”

He squirmed. “Well, first I wanted to say I’m sorry. Your uncle was not my favorite person recently, but I didn’t want him to die.”

She swallowed. “Thank you for that.”

“Paul came to my shop, like I told you, and showed me what he supposedly got from the storage space. It took me a while to examine the jewelry.” His smile was rueful. “I am very involved in my work once I
get started. Anyway, while I worked, Paul made himself at home looking at the books on my shelf while he sat in my rocking chair. I was reading there last night and I found this wedged under the cushion.”

He pulled a long scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “Something he scribbled down, but I’m not sure what to make of it.”

Ava took the paper and moved to sit next to
Luca, so they could both take a look. Her shoulder, warm from the fire, transferred the heat into his body. He leaned closer, and his arm went around her shoulders before he had thought about it, fitting perfectly as if her body was designed to snuggle next to his. He blinked as Sue stepped in behind them to examine the paper.

Danson, Belgium, 1913, Leuven

“What in the world does that
mean?” Sue asked.

Goren sighed. “I’ve no idea. I thought you might. I believe Leuven is a university in Belgium.”

“An old one. It was looted by the Germans.” Luca’s mind whirled. “So Paul was researching a connection between the Danson family and the university?”

“And we’ve got a date,” Ava added. “1913.”

“But what does that have to do with the Sunset Star?” Goren said, rubbing
his palms on his pants.

“That’s what we’re going to find out.” Luca looked at Goren. “Okay to keep this?”

Goren shrugged. “Sure.” He stood up and ducked his head at them. “Just one thing.”

Ava gave him an encouraging nod as she and Luca rose.

“If...if you do find the Sunset Star...” He shook his head. “Never mind.”