Final Resort

by Dana Mentink

  They peered into the darkened shop. Luca could make out encased glassed shelves and a main counter.

  “Let’s go around the back,” he whispered.

  While Stephanie stayed in the front to call the store phone, Luca and Ava headed toward the rear, pushing across drifts of snow that piled the walkway. There was only one window and it was shuttered.

  The metal door was closed, too, but Luca knocked anyway.

  Nothing moved inside the shop, nothing that they could see anyway.

  Ava bit her lip. “I need to talk to him, but I want to get back to the search.”

  “We can split up.”

  Ava opened her mouth to answer, when a shadow loomed up behind her. He tensed in shock as a man appeared around the edge of the store with a shotgun and pressed it to the back of Ava’s head.

  TEN

  Ava did not feel fear at first. She was too surprised. The circle of metal against her skull did not compute, but the look of rage on Luca’s face did.

  He shot a hand toward the gunman. “She’s not doing anything wrong. Back off.”

  The pressure did not wane. The assailant was not close enough for her to kick out, she didn’t think. She could not come up with a plan due to the blood that seemed to rush wildly through her body and rob her of her senses.

  Luca edged closer. “Lower the gun,” he growled at whoever was behind her.

  “What do you want?” came a man’s voice, higher than she might have expected, with a slight wobble.

  “We came to talk to Charlie Goren. Is that you?” Ava said, surprised that her own words came out clear and strong in spite of the tremor that had spread throughout her body.

  “Who wants to know?” The man pressed the gun harder, and Ava winced. Luca’s face reddened.

  “Get off her now.” He took another step forward just as Stephanie rounded the corner.

  Luca used the moment of distraction to surge forward and strike the gun away from Ava’s head. He shoved her aside and kicked out at the gunman, sending him falling onto his back in the snow.

  Ava and Stephanie both stared open-mouthed.

  “I’m gone two minutes, and you run into a gunman?” Stephanie said.

  Luca picked up the gun and stood like an angry bear over the prostrate man. “Get up,” he ordered, flicking a glance at Ava. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, still in shock.

  The man slowly got to his feet, hand clamped to his stomach where Luca had kicked him. He was small, with dark hair and dark eyes, Asian or at least partially of Asian descent, Ava surmised now that she had recovered slightly from having a gun pressed to her head.

  “You’re trespassing,” the man said, black eyes shifting from Luca to Ava and Stephanie.

  Ava eased closer in spite of Luca’s warning glare. “Are you Charlie Goren?”

  After a momentary pause, he nodded. “This is my store,” he said, an edge of pride in his tone. “I have the right to protect it, especially after everything that’s happened.”

  “Yeah?” Luca said, examining the gun. “Well, you’re not much of a security guard. You know the shotgun isn’t even loaded?”

  “I know,” Goren said. “I figured it would be just as frightening loaded as empty.”

  He was right about that, Ava thought. “I’m Paul’s niece.”

  Goren started at the name. “You are?”

  She nodded. “Do you know my uncle?”

  “Sure. I’ve known Paul since we washed dishes together in a diner when we were in our twenties. I heard he was in some trouble.”

  “You left a message on my cell phone that you wanted to talk to me.”

  He nodded. “Have they—” he swallowed hard “—found him?”

  Ava resisted a shudder. “No, but I think he’s still alive.” Luca shot her a warning look, but she ignored him.

  Stephanie edged closer. “Look, because we’ve established there’s no need for a shooting, can we go inside, Mr. Goren? I’m freezing, and we obviously have a few things to discuss.”

  Goren seemed to snap out of his stupor. He unlocked the door and led them inside. The shop smelled of old wood. Faded velvet backdrops offered up various antique pendants, rings and necklaces.

  “Did my uncle contact you recently?”

  “Yes, about a week ago he showed up. I hadn’t seen him for a couple of years at least.” Goren’s eyes narrowed. “He needed money from me, and I loaned it to him, which makes me a dope, I guess.”

  Money which he obviously hadn’t paid back. Ava gulped. Was there anyone Paul hadn’t crossed? “Did he say why he needed the money?”

  “He was going to bid on an abandoned storage unit. If there was anything of value inside, we’d split the profit. Said he’d been doing some research and he figured the unit belonged to a man named...” Goren squinted. “I can’t remember, but he was an eccentric from a wealthy family.”

  “John Danson?” Luca offered.

  “Yes, Danson. That’s right. Paul bid on the unit and bought the contents.”

  Ava’s heart sped up. “Did you find out what was inside?”

  A look of disgust crept onto Goren’s face. “Some old books, odds and ends. Some jewelry. Cheap, hardly enough to make us wealthy or enough even to recoup our investment. Not the big payoff Paul convinced me we’d find.”

  Luca showed him the picture of the earring. “Was this one of the pieces you saw?”

  Goren peered closely, then straightened. “No, no, it wasn’t. Where did you get it?”

  “My uncle’s trailer,” Ava said.

  Goren shook his head, and rubbed a hand through his dark hair seeded with silver. “I would be surprised if Paul didn’t lie about what was in that box. He probably showed me some worthless pieces and kept the good ones for himself. Said he didn’t have enough to pay me back the money I loaned him.”

  Ava looked around the dingy shop. She felt ashamed that her uncle had cheated this man of humble means. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. Paul talked about the pearl, a fantastic pearl.” Goren’s eyes lit up. “I let my own desire get the best of my judgment.” He spread his hands. “I’m passionate about gems.”

  Stephanie peered into a case containing an antique brooch with a green stone. “You’ve got some nice pieces.”

  “Yes,” he said, straightening. “That one right there is an emerald of the finest water.”

  “Water?” Luca said.

  Stephanie nodded. “It’s old language. With emeralds the clarity or crystal is just as important as the color. Jewelers refer to it as the water of the stone.”

  Goren was beaming now. “My customers usually don’t know anything about gems. I have to educate them.” He beckoned to Stephanie. “Come see this piece. It’s small but extremely fine. You can see the star pattern clearly...”

  Stephanie offered a charming smile. “I would love to, but we’re kind of in a time crunch, Mr. Goren. Could you tell us why you were trying to reach Ava?”

  Goren’s smile dimmed. He looked away, snatching up a cloth to buff the glass countertop. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but—” he glanced quickly at Ava and then away again “—I heard Paul was missing and I figured maybe he’d left the rest of the storage unit contents behind.” He sighed. “I didn’t want anything to happen to your uncle, but I figured if I could get the jewelry, even though it wasn’t great stuff, maybe I could make back some of the money I loaned him.”

  Ava watched him rub at the already-pristine counter. “We didn’t find anything yet.”

  He finally looked up. “I’m sorry. I know it makes me sound like a heel, but I just wanted to recoup some of my money. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a fool then.”

  Ava felt tears prick her eyes. She thought about how many time
s she’d trusted her uncle’s great ideas, the occasions her mother went to bat for Paul against her own husband, the way he’d treated Sue Agnoti. “I understand, Mr. Goren, and if we find anything, we’ll let you know.”

  They said goodbye and walked back to the car. Ava could not shake the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. Luca and Stephanie were silent. She guessed they, too, were thinking about Uncle Paul and his habit of using and discarding those around him.

  Luca broke the spell first. “Paul didn’t tell Goren about the nicer pieces he found in the box. That means he could very well have found the Sunset Star and hidden it before he went to meet you. He could have been keeping it in the box under the trailer and someone tried to steal it, so he moved it to a second location. The question is, where?”

  Ava brushed the sprinkle of snow from her face. The sky had cleared somewhat, revealing patches of startling azure between puffs of white clouds. “No,” she said firmly. “The question in my mind is, where is Uncle Paul?” She got into the car. “I need to get back to the crash site and do some looking around on my own.”

  As they drove away from town, her gaze wandered to the distant peaks, to Whisper Mountain, the place where her heart always returned in spite of herself, the place where she and Luca had spent joyful winters wrapped in the innocence of youth.

  If Paul had hidden a fabulous treasure, that’s where he would have done it, she knew, but for now, the treasure would have to wait.

  * * *

  Luca once again loaded his snowshoes next to Ava’s before they drove up to the search site. Ava sat perfectly erect, taking in every detail of the glittering landscape as they approached. There had been no additional contact with the police after they’d found the wrecked snowmobile, no word about the Taser tags and no further anonymous phone calls. If no news was good news, why did he feel so on edge?

  Maybe her prayers had been answered and Paul had survived. He realized with a start that he had not once prayed for Uncle Paul directly, only for Ava. The fact of the matter was he did not like Uncle Paul, the schemer, the manipulator, a man who took advantage of so many, particularly the graceful woman who sat beside him. Ava would love him to the grave in spite of his flaws. She was the kind of person who gave her heart fully and completely to those lucky enough to be loved by her.

  Luca felt another stab of guilt. Wouldn’t he do the very same thing for his own family? And she had so precious little family left. Underneath her dogged belief that Paul was still alive was the naked fear of how she would deal with his loss.

  Even though he could not fully understand it, he knew that some of that fear was entwined with her mother’s suicide all those years before. He’d lost his own mother at such a young age that he could hardly remember her. Which was worse? he wondered. No memories at all or the memories that could drown you?

  This time, he murmured a prayer for Uncle Paul.

  “Let’s start our search farther west,” Ava was saying. “He got away from his kidnapper somehow and probably headed for the road, maybe sticking to the shoulder where the snow was not as deep. He would have made shelter from the storm along the road somewhere.”

  Luca eased the car around a corner, he saw a police car parked in the snow, another officer holding a rope and peering over the side.

  Sergeant Towers spoke into a radio. A four-wheel-drive vehicle sat empty behind the sergeant’s.

  Ava hopped out and trotted over to Towers.

  “Have you found anything?”

  Towers appeared distracted. He held up a finger to quiet her and turned away to finish the radio conversation.

  Luca caught only three words.

  Bringing him up.

  “Ava...” he started.

  “Did you hear that?” Her face was alive with joy. “They found him. They’re bringing him up.”

  She grabbed Luca’s hand and squeezed, so close he could feel the energy vibrating through her. God, help me know how to do this.

  He pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin. “Honey, this isn’t what you think it is.” It was clear from Towers’s face, from the fact that there were no frantic calls for ambulance or paramedics, no hurried urgency on the part of the rescuers.

  What could he do to shield her from the anguish that would cut her heart in two in a matter of moments? He wished he could take the grief for her, divert it away from her tender soul. In a state of agony, he could only clasp her to his chest and hold in the last few precious moments of hope before it melted away like a snowflake. She tried to pull away, but he held her as the stretcher cleared the top of the slope, sliding on a network of rescue ropes.

  “Luca, let me go,” she said, squirming hard enough to bring herself to arm’s length. He still held tight to her wrists as if by anchoring her to him he could keep her from the pain that lay just behind her.

  “Ava, you need to listen to me now,” he said quietly.

  “No.” The first flicker of fear licked at her eyes. “I want to see my uncle. Let go.” She tugged hard.

  “Your uncle...” He did not want to say it, but his silence made the fear flame higher.

  “I want to see him,” she said, jerking wildly now. “I want to see him,” she yelled.

  Towers joined them. “Miss Stanton, I’m very sorry.”

  She stopped jerking and looked at him. “Don’t say that. Don’t say you’re sorry. I don’t ever want to hear that again. Not from you.”

  Towers regarded her quietly. “He’s dead, Miss Stanton.”

  She yanked so hard then that she pulled from Luca’s grip, tumbling backward into the snow.

  Luca reached for her, but she scrambled back, face white except for the patches of color on each cheek.

  “Don’t touch me,” she whispered. “Don’t anyone touch me.”

  He stood frozen, his heart feeling like it had somehow fractured, too.

  Slowly she got to her feet and walked to the stretcher that held the last of her hopes. Towers nodded at the officer to step away from the stretcher and he did so, standing respectfully back as Ava knelt in the snow.

  “She said the same thing then,” Towers said.

  “What?” Luca managed.

  “I was the officer who told her about her mother after they pulled her body from the lake. ‘Don’t touch me.’ That’s what she said then, too.”

  Luca closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Ava’s sobbing, the mountains throwing her grief back in mocking echoes.

  ELEVEN

  Sometime 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?