by Dana Mentink
Upright, Luca found himself hunched over, trying to breathe through the pain in his stomach.
Ava put a tentative hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”
Luca managed a nod. “Reminds me of high school football days,” he gasped. Only worse.
“Come on in before we all freeze to death,” Bully said, slamming open the door to his trailer.
Ava took Luca’s arm and led him up the steps.
“Make yourself at home,” Bully called out, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll nuke some coffee.”
Luca sank down on the couch, finally able to focus on Ava. “What about you? Are you bleeding?”
She dabbed at her mouth with her jacket sleeve. “Just cut my lip when whoever that was took the legs from under me.” She sat dejectedly on an ottoman, upholstered with the Laker’s basketball team logo. “I thought it was Mack Dog. Dumb.”
Luca felt a stab of pity for her. “Not dumb. Wouldn’t expect someone to be hunkered down under your trailer.”
Bully returned with cups of hot instant coffee. “What was he doin’ under your trailer?”
Ava sipped the coffee. “I can’t imagine. For a moment, I thought...”
Luca didn’t press. He knew what she’d thought.
Bully slurped into his cup. “Thought what?”
“That my uncle had come back.”
Bully started. “I figured he was...well...you know.”
“They haven’t found a body,” Ava said, chin high. “He could be alive.”
“Hmm.” Bully cocked his head, which seemed only to widen his cheeks even more. “He’s a cagey one. Wouldn’t put it past him to be holed up somewhere. I seen him do some strange things.”
“Like what?” Ava pressed.
Rolling the mug between his calloused palms, Bully considered. “Now I think on it, he was crawling around under that trailer a time or two.”
Luca was finally able to draw a full breath. “When?”
“Last week. I asked him what he was doin’ under there. Said he was discouraging a family of cats from setting up residence.” Bully slowly shook his head. “I ain’t noticed a family of cats around here recently. Especially not with Mack Dog staying on the property.”
Luca’s eyes locked on Ava’s. He could see the thoughts twirling madly in her mind.
“Maybe Uncle Paul hid something there, and he came back for it.”
Luca shook his head. “Then why did he run? Why would he pull you under the trailer in the first place?”
She did not lose the stubborn set to her chin. “He didn’t know it was me.”
Luca frowned. She was grasping at straws. “It seems more likely that someone else came here to search under the trailer. Someone who knew that Paul had something valuable in his possession.”
Bully snorted. “Paul was always more talk than walk. Some fake cameos and gold-plated junk is probably all he had.”
“Not this time,” Ava said. “This time he had something worth abducting him for.”
The big man grimaced. “Now you know he was my friend, honey, but that don’t mean I can’t see the truth about him. Plenty of people would like a shot at getting even with old Pauly, treasure or no.”
“What about you?” Ava shot back. “Did you have any reason to get back at my uncle?”
Bully frowned. “You’re upset. I guess that gives you the right to say things like that, but I been nothing but good to your uncle even when he skipped out without paying. I still let him stay here, though, didn’t I? I been nicer to him than anyone else in town.”
Ava shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry, Bully. You’ve been a good friend. I’ll pay you what he owes in back rent.”
Bully patted her shoulder. “Don’t mind about that. You got your hands full. I just want you to know I’m on your side in all this.”
Ava got up and moved to the door. “I’m going to look under the trailer.”
“Wait until morning,” Luca said. “You won’t see much in the dark with this storm.”
“That’s what flashlights are for,” Ava shot over her shoulder as she disappeared into the night.
Bully raised a thick eyebrow. “She ain’t big on the waiting-around thing?”
“No,” Luca snapped. She’s not big on the being-reasonable thing, either.
Bully clapped him on the back, a move that sent painful reverberations along his rib cage. “Guess you better go catch up, then, sport.”
Luca bit back a remark as he headed into the night after her.
NINE
Ava made it back to the trailer quickly in spite of the blowing snow. She stopped long enough inside to grab a better flashlight. Luca made it just as she shone her light into the gap under the trailer, his hand held to his stomach.
“You should go back to bed. You don’t look so good.”
His lip curled. “You try taking a grand slam to the solar plexus.”
She hid a smile at the look on his face and prepared to shimmy back under in the same spot she’d been dragged only a short time before. Luca crouched next to her, eyeing the gap.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re too big.”
Luca huffed. “I can make it.”
“Okay,” Avery said, slithering into the dark space, “but don’t blame me if we have to use a crowbar to get you out.”
She didn’t catch his disgruntled comment as the darkness closed around her. It was tight quarters, the bottom of the trailer seemed to press down on her shoulders. Even though the space was clear of snow, it smelled of mold, which no doubt clung to the wooden braces that shored up the floor and helped level out the contraption. She shined her flashlight into the darkness.
Another beam of light crossed hers as Luca dropped to his stomach and aimed the flashlight she’d discarded in her direction.
“Hey,” she said, throwing a hand over her eyes.
“Sorry.” Luca repositioned the light. “That’s probably what happened to the guy under the trailer. You momentarily blinded him.”
“Maybe.” She continued her search, avoiding a pile of droppings left by a raccoon or rabbit. “But who was it and what was he doing under here in the first place?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” Luca’s light caught something nestled in the farthest corner of the trailer. “What’s that?”
Ava wriggled deeper toward the far corner, her excitement edging up a notch as she closed in. “Oh man.”
“What? What is it?” Luca practically yelled.
“Just a minute.” Ava reached out a hand to the wooden box. Someone had laid it carefully on a series of bricks. To raise it off the damp ground? It was long, maybe twenty-six inches wide and shallow, not quite ten inches tall. She pulled at it, but her awkward angle and the unruly size of the box made it difficult.
In the meantime, Luca was pushing farther into the space, as far as his wide shoulders would allow. “What’s in it?”
“I don’t know. There’s not enough clearance here to open it. I’ll have to drag it out.” She lugged the box inch by inch toward her makeshift entrance. When she was within arm’s reach, Luca took hold of it and slid it out, returning immediately to hold Avery’s flashlight. When she struggled free, he helped her to her feet.
“Come on,” Ava said, hurrying back up the porch steps. She felt a new urgency, hope swirling around inside her that whatever the mystery box contained might be the clue to finding her uncle.
Luca thumped up the steps beside her and they turned on the lights, blinking as their eyes adjusted. He carried the box to the table and set it down. She could see he was itching to open it, fingers curled in anticipation.
He nodded to her. “You do the honors.”
Pleased, somehow, at the small chivalry, she unhooke
d the metal latch on the box and slowly opened the lid.
They stood shoulder to shoulder peering into an empty box.
Ava could not contain her sigh as she sank down into a chair. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” She blinked hard as the night caught up with her. She would not cry. Tears were useless anyway.
Luca frowned into the interior. “One thing you learn in the treasure seeking business is how to mine all the clues you can from every find.”
Ava straightened. “There are clues here?”
He opened the box completely so the hinged lid rested on the table. “For one thing, someone fixed a metal liner in the bottom. It’s a homemade job, so there’s the possibility there are fingerprints, but the bigger issue seems to me to be what was in the box?”
“Something pretty valuable,” Ava breathed. “For someone to go to the trouble of making a box and hiding it under the trailer.”
Luca considered. “Seems silly, though. Why not put it in a safe-deposit box? Completely anonymous and ultra-secure.”
Ava laughed. “Well, if this is Uncle Paul’s handiwork, I can tell you he doesn’t trust banks. Or cops. Or the government. Or pretty much anyone. He says they’re all scammers and he should know.”
Luca chuckled, bending closer to the box. “Do you have a magnifying glass?”
“Yes, I found one in the kitchen drawer.” She got it and moved close until her shoulder brushed his muscled arm. The faint scent of soap clung to him and she enjoyed the musky fragrance. “What do you see?”
He used the magnifying glass to peer closely at the miniscule gap between the wooden box and its metal liner. The space was no bigger than pinky width. Luca abruptly grabbed a knife from the block on the counter. He inserted the tip gingerly into the sliver of space. When he pulled it clear again, an earring dangled from the point.
They both stared at the single drop pearl, an iridescent, milky white.
“I wonder,” Ava said, her voice barely a whisper, “where Uncle Paul got that.”
Luca asked for a plastic bag and laid the earring carefully on top while he photographed it. Then he slid it inside and closed the top. His face was alight with discovery, and he exuded an energy that Ava found was catching.
“Do you think it’s the treasure you’re after?”
“Not likely. The Sunset Star is a pink pearl and it’s set into a pendant, or it was anyway, the last time it was photographed.”
He was moving on now, studying the outside of the box. Ava did the same on the side closest to her.
Her heart leaped. “Look!” She could barely make out some pencil scratches on the side of the box. She grabbed the magnifying glass and squinted at it. “Letters? No, numbers.” She rattled them off to Luca.
“Seven digits. A telephone number minus the area code, so it’s for someplace local.”
“I’ll get a pencil.” Nerves jangling with excitement, she went for the notepad nearest the phone. Her hand was arrested in mid-motion as she reached for the pencil.
Luca gave her a questioning look.
“I don’t have to write it down,” she said slowly. “It’s already here on this notepad, right next to a name.”
“Whose?”
“Charlie Goren, the friend of my uncle who called earlier.”
* * *
Luca wasn’t sure what to make of the phone number. Neither was Ava apparently, because she began to pace the cramped space, eyes darting in thought.
“I’m trying to remember the name, if Uncle Paul ever talked about Goren.”
He took out his smartphone and plugged the name and number into an internet search. He didn’t have to wait long. “Charlie Goren owns an antique jewelry store in Lofton.”
She stared at him. “That’s an hour from here.”
“It sure is.” He checked the time. “Unfortunately, it’s only a little after four-thirty. His store doesn’t open until eight.”
Her eyes were wide, lips parted. His heart sped up as she spoke.
“If we get there right when it opens, we can talk to him and be back at the search site before ten.”
He knew she had every intention of going out again to search for her uncle the moment the storm passed, regardless of what the police said. For some reason he could not fathom, he would, of course, be going along with her.
“We could call Goren,” Luca suggested.
“I’d rather talk to him face to face.”
“You think he might be involved with your uncle’s accident?”
Ava shrugged. “I don’t know, but I just feel like I need to eyeball him myself and I don’t want to pull any cops away from the search.” Ava marched to the kitchen and began gathering things from the fridge.
He watched her precise movements, admiring her natural grace, wishing he could reach out and touch that shimmering bob of hair. What was the matter with him?
“I’ll call the police,” Luca said. “Fill them in on the box and the phone number and get Stephanie and Tate over here to check things out before the police confiscate everything.”
“Okay. I’m making us some breakfast. I’ll make enough for four.”
He raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected her to offer to cook for them. Even though he normally put himself in charge of culinary affairs, he knew it was important to her to keep busy. “That will be great.”
“Well, all I know how to fix is scrambled eggs and toast, so it might not be exactly great, but it will fill us up and pass the time until we go see Goren.”
He couldn’t argue with that logic. He left a message for the sergeant and texted his sister.
She and Tate arrived along with Mack Dog in fifteen minutes.
Tate looked wide-awake as he helped himself to scrambled eggs and coffee. He offered a quiet greeting
Stephanie had the aura of someone rousted out of bed far too early. She glared at her brother. “I imagine this could not have waited another three hours?”
He grinned and showed her the earring. The fatigue slipped from her face as she snatched the bag from his hands. “Obviously it’s not the Sunset Star, but it might be part of Danson’s collection. That would be a clear indication that we’re on the right track.” She rolled the pearl gently between her fingers.
“Is it real?” Luca said around a mouthful of egg.
“Hard to say. I’d put it between my teeth, but I doubt the cops would appreciate my contaminating the evidence.”
“You that hungry?” Tate teased.
She gave him a wry smile. “No, smarty pants. If the surface is gritty, it’s a natural or cultured pearl, not fake. You can also take an X-ray. If you see layers like an onion skin, it’s a natural pearl.” She shot a look at her brother. “I could have it authenticated back in San Francisco. Are you sure we need to...”
“Yes,” both Tate and Luca said at once.
Her cheeks pinked. “All right, all right. I know we have to hand it over to the police. I was just thinking about delaying a bit.”
“No way. By the book,” Luca said.
“You sound like Victor.”
“Our big brother makes sense on rare occasions.” Luca drained his coffee. “So who’s doing what today?”
Tate offered to head to the search site. “I can take Mack Dog with me and deliver the box to the police. I’ll keep everyone posted.”
Ava nodded gratefully. “Thank you. I’ll be back as soon as I talk to Goren.”
“We’ll be back,” Luca corrected.
Ava looked away, brows drawn. “I don’t need a chaperone.”
“True, but you don’t know anything about pearls do you?”
“Neither do you,” she shot back.
“But I do,” Stephanie said. “So I’ll invite myself along and keep the two of you on your be
st behavior.”
Luca and Ava both stared at Stephanie. She laughed. “We’re hunting for treasure, aren’t we? The more eyes the better.”
Luca noticed that Ava did not meet his gaze as she finished her breakfast. She still thought she could find her uncle and figure out what happened all by her lonesome. He wondered why that both exasperated and pleased him.
He dismissed the thought as they each went about their preparations for departure. He helped clear the dishes and dry after Ava washed. They didn’t speak. That was probably better anyway.
He was putting away the last dish when the trailer phone rang.
There was no answer to his “Hello,” but someone stayed on the line.
“Who is this? Who are you trying to reach?”
Click.
A tickle of worry rippled through his stomach.
It was the same anonymous caller as before, he was sure of it.
Ava shrugged it off. “Some prankster? It doesn’t matter. I just know Goren will be able to help us figure out what happened to my uncle.”
He heard it in her voice. The unspoken statement.
So I can bring him home.
Ava, he thought, I really hope you’re right.
All the same, he made a mental note to let the police know about the calls.
The time ticked by slowly. Tate had already gone to the search site when Stephanie, Luca and Ava piled into the car and began the painfully slow drive down the mountain. Snow was still falling, but the worst of the wind had passed, leaving the landscape a perfect crystalline world. They marveled in silence as Ava guided the car along the road crowded by trees sparkling in the watery sunrise.
Beautiful, he thought, gazing past Ava’s perfect delicate profile at the wondrous landscape beyond.
They had to creep along until they made it to a plowed road which allowed them to reach Lofton in a little under an hour. Ava was out of the car and almost to the door of the small shop by the time they caught up.
She yanked on the handle, her face falling when she found it locked, knocking on the glass anyway.
Stephanie checked her phone. “It’s eight-fifteen. Maybe they run on their own timetable around here.”
