Page 44 of Last Resort

Nothing happened—this time. What if they try again?

If it’s Carr, what does he think I might have that he wants that badly? If he thought Raines had anything with him, he’d be breaking into the rental office, not Trinkets. How could he even know about the poker chips? I don’t have a clue who sent them, where they’ve been—or if they actually have anything to do with any of this mess.

Ben snuffled in his sleep and shifted closer. Erik concentrated on the warm body beside him and Ben’s scent of sweat, shampoo, and sex.

What if we had caught him? We had guns—did he? Nothing in the store is worth either of us dying over. We should have bolted the apartment door and waited for the cops.

But that’s not really what Ben and I do.

I came here to get away from the crazy violence. Ben and I haven’t been looking for trouble. How did it find us?

Erik focused on the sound of Ben’s breathing, concentrating on matching the rhythm. In, out. In, out.

We’re here. Together. Safe. And I’m going to do everything in my power to keep things that way.

After a while, exhaustion won out, and Erik fell into a fitful sleep, one hand resting on Ben’s arm for reassurance.

SEVEN

BEN

“Everything okay?” Jenny asked when Ben came into the rental office a little late. “You look like you didn’t sleep.”

“Someone tried to break into Trinkets last night,” Ben told her. “We scared him off, but that doesn’t make it any less upsetting.”

“Did anyone get hurt?”

Ben felt bad about mentioning the break-in because Jenny was the worrying type. Then again, he figured word would be all over Cape May by lunchtime.

“Erik and I are okay. But we don’t know who did it or why. Doesn’t make for a good night’s sleep.”

“On the bright side, no one tried to break in here for a change,” Jenny pointed out.

“I guess that’s something,” Ben agreed. “I’m going to do a little private eye work this morning, so please don’t let anyone bother me unless it’s urgent.”

“You got it.”

Ben grabbed a cup of coffee and a donut from the break room and then went in his office and closed the door. While his computer powered up he stared at the screen and planned his next move.

He logged into a couple of data bases for private investigators and typed in everything he knew about Holden Carr. Ben didn’t have a home address, and New York City was a big place, but he counted on the unusual first name to yield a few hits.

Several pings meant he’d gotten matches on his prompt. Ben watched the results scroll up his screen.

Carr’s got money problems. Overdue loans, poor credit score. Late payments. He said he was an actor, but maybe roles have been hard to get now that he’s not as young as he used to be. New York’s a pricy place to live. Did he get used to expensive tastes when things were good?

Holden Carr’s profile revealed a man teetering on the edge of ruin. While he hadn’t been in trouble with the law, a couple of notations pointed out Carr’s involvement with some dicey business ventures that had come under investigation.

He’s heard about hidden treasure all his life, linked to both his great-grandfather and his uncle. Then Tom suddenly shows up. How did Carr know? What did he expect? Was he going to hit Raines up for money? Or did he think that Raines left his hiding place because he’d finally figured out where Edwin hid his famous stash? Was Holden going to try to make a deal with Raines—or take the loot for himself?

Ben weighed which of his friends to call. Vic could access police resources, but Chief Hendricks might decide to share information, and Ben didn’t want to go around him unless he had no choice. Teag, on the other hand, had less orthodox connections but might uncover a different sort of evidence.

He decided to wait on the call to Vic and see if Hendricks would play nice. Teag answered on the first ring.

“Great to hear from you, Ben. What’s new up north?” Teag teased. Based in Charleston, SC, Teag’s weather was almost certainly warmer than Cape May’s chilly early autumn.

“Not much. Just murders and mobsters,” Ben replied, intentionally off-handed.

“Sounds normal to me. How can I help?”

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