Final Resort (11 page)

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Authors: Dana Mentink

BOOK: Final Resort
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“Come again?” Luca said.

“The basement. Paul spent a lot of time in the basement when he was here.”

Luca looked into Harold’s hardened face. Was
there something unsaid there? Something he was trying to get across without really saying so? The old man turned away and disappeared into the darkened hallway.

“Come on, Charlie,” Sue said. “Let’s get you settled in for the night.” They followed the same path toward the back of the house.

Mack Dog, having finished his bowl of kibble and the piece of cheese Tate had sneaked to him, stretched
himself to full length, mouth opened wide in a yawn that showed two full rows of pointy white teeth.

“Smart dog,” Stephanie said, stifling a yawn. She came closer to Luca. “Do you want us to help?” she murmured.

He could see the fatigue on her face. “Tomorrow. We’ll poke around for a while and hit it hard in the morning. Okay?”

She pinched his cheek and kissed it. “Who knew Sherlock
was such a softie? Good night.”

Stephanie gave Ava a quick hug. Luca smiled inwardly at Ava’s surprised expression. Stephanie was a hugger by nature, and she obviously had begun to consider Ava a friend, or at least an ally.

That was enough. Once Stephanie took on your cause, there was no stopping her. He felt the swell of pride in his sister. Tate put his arm around her and led her
to the door where they donned coats and hats again. Luca kept firm hold of Mack Dog who attempted to follow Tate. “Uh-uh, dog. You’re on guard duty tonight.”

When they were alone in the kitchen, Luca let Mack Dog go. Ava put a flashlight in the back pocket of her jeans. “Where do we start?”

He considered. “It’s late, so we take either the basement or Uncle Paul’s room.”

She looked
away, blinking hard. “Maybe...maybe we could wait until tomorrow to tear apart his room.”

He wanted to pull her to him then, to ease the sudden sorrow he saw play across her face. “You bet. I can do a quick tour of the basement before we turn in for the night.”

The glow of determination appeared again. “We’ll do it together.”

Together.

He could not understand why the word warmed
a trail inside him.

Easy, Luca. Do your job and leave your feelings out of it.

A treasure was waiting somewhere in the darkened lodge.

He could feel it.

FOURTEEN

A
va tried to remember the last time she’d gone down into the basement. It might have been to fetch several jars of strawberry jam for her mother when she was just a child. She recalled the creak of the steep wooden steps, the scent of mold and some indefinable tang of discarded things, cobwebs, the skitter of tiny mouse feet. Her father had shown up to help her find the
jam after a while.

“Why are you afraid of the dark?” he teased. “It can’t hurt you.”

She did not know then that her father was wrong, dead wrong. Darkness hurt the Stantons plenty. It began with the shadow that crept into her mother’s face after she miscarried what would have been Ava’s sister. It grew with each passing season, swelled as the lodge fell deeper into debt and burgeoned
after the fight when her father had stormed out of the house just before a blown-out tire would leave him paralyzed from the waist down. That same darkness dragged her mother out onto the ice that one wretched evening.

She remembered in her teenage angst yelling at her mother, “Why can’t you just be happy? Aren’t we enough, Mom?”

That question was answered the day she killed herself.
They were not enough, not nearly enough to drive away the persistent grief that lived inside Marcia Stanton.

The dark can hurt you. It hurt us all.

Her skin prickled all over in goose bumps as the cold air wafted up from below. She did not realize her breathing had grown irregular until Luca turned to her, eyes wide in the gloom. He didn’t say anything, but she could read the question
and his tenderness both pleased and scared her.

Somehow he knew that memories lived down there in that basement.

“Let’s go,” she said, trying to push ahead of him.

He didn’t let her get in front. Flicking on the light switch activated a bare bulb hanging on a string down below. It illuminated only a small patch of damp cement floor some thirty feet below and the rickety wooden steps
on which they stood.

Surprisingly, Mack Dog flat-out refused to go down the steps, digging his claws in when she tried to urge him on.

“You’re being a big chicken dog,” Ava said.

Unperturbed, Mack Dog trotted off to the family room, no doubt to curl up near the embers of the fire.

“Apparently your criticism doesn’t mean much to Mack Dog.” Luca eased down the steps, the wood
groaning under his feet.

“How long has it been since these stairs were shored up?” he asked.

“As far as I know, they’ve never been repaired and my family’s owned this place for forty years.”

“Swell.” He beamed his flashlight over the steep flight of stairs. “I guess I’d better...” He broke off abruptly as the railing gave way and he toppled off the side of the steps, his flashlight
spiraling away into the darkness.

“Luca,” Ava cried, peering into the void.

After a moment, there was a loud grunt. “I knew that was going to happen.”

She heaved a sigh when she caught sight of his fingers, curled around the edge of the steps, his long frame dangling into the darkness. The drop might not kill him if he fell feet first, but the hard cement floor could certainly crack
an ankle or backbone. She grabbed his wrists with both of hers and flattened herself against the step.

Luca wriggled from side to side, with Ava holding on to his wrists as tightly as she could and pulling. The wood creaked under his weight and Ava worried that the whole structure might give way. Slowly he inched up until he was able to swing his foot up onto the steps. With a grunt he hoisted
himself over and flopped down next to Ava. They both laid there panting.

“I guess you were right about the stairs,” Luca said.

Ava laughed. In spite of everything she could not restrain the bubbling laughter that had no business showing up on that damp basement step. The loss, the disappointment and grief all seemed to vanish. Luca laughed, too, his deep chuckle echoing through the basement.
He turned on his side until his face was inches from hers. Going suddenly quiet, he reached out a hand and stroked her cheek, sending tingles rippling along her side. “That’s what I like about you,” he said. “Your practical side.”

She felt her face heat up as his fingers teased her, his mouth so close. He leaned in, closing the gap between them until his lips brushed hers. Warmth flooded
her cheeks. Too many emotions crashed into her mind and she yanked away, climbing to her feet.

“We’d better watch our step, then,” she babbled, moving on down the stairs. It might have been her imagination, but she thought she heard a sigh from Luca as he got to his feet and slowly followed her down.

Her pulse thundered. What had just happened? There was no room in her heart or mind
for the emotions that now danced there. Still, her body seemed electrified by his gentle touch.
Calm down,
she commanded herself
.
Find this treasure and then Luca will get what he wants and so will you.

For one confused moment, she could not remember what it was that she desired. Justice? Closure? Peace?

Love?

No, it was not that. Above all things she never wanted to open herself
up to that crippling emotion again.

Ever.

She carefully descended into the basement, Luca falling in behind. The cold increased the deeper they went until she was shivering, her feet like frozen blocks in spite of her boots.

They reached the bottom, a rectangular space with metal shelves stacked neatly with labeled boxes. High up on the wall was a small window that allowed in some
starlight thanks to a baffle that kept it clear of snow for the most part. There was nothing to see now as the moon was obscured by a bank of storm clouds.

Ava turned her attention to the shelves. Her father’s neat handwriting marched across the cardboard boxes:
blankets, miscellaneous kitchen, furnace filters, tools.
They were precisely stacked, so like her father, former army. In his world
everything had a proper place in the grand scheme.

How hard it must have been for him to wrestle with her mother’s illness, something he could not manage or change.

And how maddening now that his paralysis left him unable to control even his own body. She regretted her earlier phone conversation with him, her recrimination probably heaped on even more frustration.

She tried to focus.
“Okay, Uncle Paul. If you hid something down here, it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Luca retrieved his flashlight, shaking it ruefully. “Busted. Harold isn’t going to like that.”

“He’d like it less if you had broken your leg in that fall or cracked your skull. Imagine the mess.”

He chuckled as he checked over the set of shelves on the far wall. “I get the sense no one comes down
here.”

“There’s probably not much reason to because the resort has been closed down for the past two years.”

“That’s just wrong. The mountain was meant to be skied.”

She felt the same stirring she always did when she pictured herself at the top of a run, the slope spreading pristine and white in front of her, as if she was about to be carried on wings.

She felt Luca looking
at her, his face strange in the light from the bare bulb.

“The resort should be opened up again,” he said.

“It will be, when it’s sold.” She could not look at him. “When it’s not mine anymore.”

“Have you considered a partnership? Leasing out some of your slopes?”

“We considered everything, but we’re broke, Luca. People don’t want to partner with us, they want to buy us out.”

“Maybe you haven’t found the right partner yet.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t tried to take us over because your father owns part of Gold Summit. It would be unbeatable if you absorbed Whisper.”

He didn’t answer.

She felt the realization settle like a fine powder of snow, sifting into her consciousness. “Luca, why did you come here now? To Gold Summit?”

“Mostly vacationing.”

“Mostly?”

He sighed and faced her then, shoulders squared. “The fact is, my father is interested in Whisper Mountain. The real estate agent your uncle spoke to contacted us about the possibility, and we came to take a look and consider our options.”

Her heart sank. “You came here to buy Whisper.”

He held up his hands. “The agent said you’d decided to sell. We had such fond memories
of the place...”

Anger hummed inside her. “So our failure, our bankruptcy is a business opportunity to you. This whole treasure-seeking thing is just a diversion from your real goal.”

“No, Ava.” His voice deepened. “I’m here to help you find whatever Uncle Paul left. If it’s enough to save Whisper, then I’ll be happy.”

“Really?” Acid dripped from her words. “Happy to lose out on
a once-in-a-lifetime investment?”

He stared at her. “Investments come and go. People are the real treasures.”

“That sounds like the sentiment on a greeting card.” She bit her lip, finding it hard to breathe.

“I had no idea you’d even be here. I figured you’d have an agent handling the details.”

“That would have made it easier, wouldn’t it? Why didn’t you tell me earlier that
you were here to take my property?”

“I should have.” His gaze dropped to the floor and he sighed. “I’m not here to take your property. I didn’t say anything about the possible purchase because you had your hands full with the abduction, and grieving for your uncle. It did not seem like an appropriate time to bring up business.” He moved closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any pain.”

“You should have told me.”

“Probably. Sometimes I don’t make the right choices, especially where women are concerned. Ava, I’m really sorry.”

Me, too.

I thought...

What had she thought? Swirling snow made shadows dance along the cement floor.

It didn’t matter. He was right. Whisper Mountain should be opened up again, and the Gage family had the money and resources
to make it happen.

Luca was just another interested investor.

Swallowing hard, she turned away from him.

* * *

Luca ground his teeth. He hadn’t lied. And she’d offered the property for sale. It was all perfectly aboveboard, yet he felt a surge of guilt that he hadn’t told her sooner. In truth, merging Whisper Mountain with Gold Summit would make it an unparalleled resort experience.
On the outside, it made perfect sense.

But from where he stood now, he wasn’t sure anymore.

If the Gages didn’t buy it, someone else would, someone who had no fond memories of winters past, perhaps an investment group who would raze the place, obliterate any traces of the Stanton family.

He wanted to take hold of her, to make her look into his eyes and see that he was not there
in that dark basement on Whisper Mountain for any reason except one: to help her. He thought about the brief moment when his lips brushed hers, the unfettered laughter that lit up her face only moments before.

He took a step toward her when something caught his eye. He went down on one knee and peered into a corner, wishing he had a working flashlight.

Ava joined him, keeping a good
couple of feet between them, he noticed.

“Find something?” her tone was cold.

“Aim the flashlight lower.” The combined light from the electric bulb and Ava’s flashlight revealed a pile of neatly stacked blankets partially covering a wooden trunk. On the outside was scrawled the words
snowshoes.
He might not have thought anything odd about it except that the print was messy, the letter
size uneven, different than Bruce Stanton’s meticulous handwriting.

He tossed the blankets off the top and pulled the trunk out of the corner. It was about four feet square, well-made.

Luca shot her a look. “It’s not locked. Do we open it?”

“Yes,” Ava said. “Maybe this treasure hunt will be over, and we can end this thing.”

Ignoring the tightening in his stomach, he pulled
open the trunk.

Ava beamed the flashlight inside.

This time, the box was not empty.

Luca’s heart beat fast as he removed the contents, handing them to Ava.

“An old book,
History of the Printing Press.
” He plunged a hand into the box. “And a bag of...”

Ava beamed her light into the bag. “Jewelry,” she announced triumphantly.

He tried to see what was in it, but all
he could make out was a tangle of chains. The Sunset Star might very well be dangling in front of his face, wrapped up in an ordinary plastic bag.

Ava’s mouth was open, eyes searching the contents for the same reason. “Do you think it’s in there?”

“Let’s take it upstairs and find out.”

She nodded.

“Ava...” He wanted to say something to erase the distance that had grown between
them. Instead, he shook his head. “I think it would be a good idea to keep this quiet.”

“You don’t trust Goren?”

“Or Harold and Sue.”

She considered, head cocked. “They’ve been with our family for years.”

“I know, but someone killed your uncle, and it had to be someone who knew him well enough to find out that he’d gotten his hands on a treasure.”

“Okay,” she said, after
a pause.

Another shadow darkened the window, only this time, it stayed.

Luca jerked. “Someone’s looking in over the baffle,” he yelled as he sprinted to the window.

As he neared, the glass splintered in all directions. Something metallic sailed through the pane, showering the cement with brittle shards and smashing the hanging lightbulb. The bulb sparked, and the basement went black.

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