Final Resort

by Dana Mentink

  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 h
is 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

  Ava 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.<
br />
  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.