Alaskan Wilderness Peril
Auteur·e
Beth Carpenter
Lectures
18,7K
Chapitres
16
ONE
“Less than three months until summer,” Hannah Yates reminded herself as she wedged her SUV between Sue Ann’s pickup and the pile of snow plowed into the corner of her store’s tiny employee parking lot.
Now that March had arrived, the sun was high enough to begin melting the snowbanks on south-facing slopes in Anchorage during the day. By June, the snow would be gone, the mountains would be green again, and tourists would be flocking to the store, snapping selfies beside the enormous fuchsia basket Hannah always hung out front and shopping for gifts and souvenirs. But first came the rest of the winter and breakup, the messy season when snow melted, roads and parking lots turned to ice, and cars wore coats of road grime.
Hannah managed to squeeze out her door without dinging Sue Ann’s truck and opened the back gate of her SUV, revealing the precious things she’d picked up at auction earlier. She grabbed a cardboard box and carried it to the rear door of Hannah’s Alaskan Treasures, downtown’s most popular antique store, and Hannah’s pride and joy. Propping the box on one hip, she dug out her keys and let herself in.
Sue Ann, her store manager, appeared through the curtain separating the workroom from the front of the store and hurried to hold the door for Hannah. “I hope you got the carnival glass you wanted.” Sue Ann pronounced the “I” as “ahh.” She had lived in Alaska for twenty-five years now, but she’d never lost her Kentucky accent.
“Thanks.” Hannah set the box on her workbench. “No, I didn’t get it. The bidding got too rich.”
Sue Ann raised her eyebrows. “Nicole again?” She opened the box and began removing the bubble wrap on the items inside.
“Uh-huh.” Hannah’s sister, who had her own antique store in South Anchorage, delighted in competing with Hannah at auctions and sales. Even though their inventories didn’t have that much overlap—Nicole specialized in antique jewelry, coins, and small decorative items while Hannah focused on furniture and home accessories—there always seemed to be something they both wanted. “The carnival glass wasn’t a big deal,” she told Sue Ann, “but there was a jewelry box I really hated losing out on. The inlay was just gorgeous. Let me show you.”
Hannah grabbed her phone and pulled up the photo showing intricate patterns of light and dark wood inlaid to form the shape of a blooming trumpet vine meandering around the box. A heart-shaped padlock held the box closed. “The detail was incredible. It’s hard to see in the photo, but there were veins in the leaves and stamens in the flowers.”
Sue Ann zoomed in to study the pattern. “Nice. Did it come with a key?”
“No, it was sold ‘as is’ with the lock still on, but it felt empty. The lock looked more decorative than secure, so it shouldn’t be hard to get off. There were several bidders. I dropped out at two hundred dollars, but Nicole kept going until she got it for five hundred. I told her I can’t see how she can make a profit after paying that much, but—”
“She said to mind your own business,” Sue Ann predicted as she finished unwrapping the top item in the box. “Which it looks like you did. I love this stained-glass lampshade.”
“Gorgeous, isn’t it? I got a great candelabra and a classic silver bowl, too. And a box of blown glass Christmas ornaments. I also found a chest of drawers,” she added as she rolled the furniture dolly from the corner of the workroom. “It’s nothing particularly valuable, but it had a great shape and I got it for a song because it’s grungy and the bottom drawer is stuck closed. Once I repair and refinish it, it will look fantastic.”
“Need a hand bringing it in?” Sue Ann offered, but just then the bells on the front door jingled, signaling a new customer. “Sorry, I’ve got to get that. Tiff isn’t in yet.” She returned to the front of the store, leaving Hannah to deal with the chest by herself.
Fortunately, it wasn’t a particularly big piece, and she was able to unload it and roll it into the workroom without much trouble. Once she’d closed the back door and shed her coat, she scrubbed off the dirt, thrilled to find intact Birdseye maple veneer on the curved drawers, rather than the pine she’d expected.
The back door rattled and then opened. “I know. I’m late.” Tiffany, a college student who worked at the store part-time, said as she rushed in, slipping out of her coat as she did. “Class ran long today.” She hung her coat and bag on a peg on the wall and ducked through the curtains before Hannah could do more than nod hello.
Once again, Hannah breathed a little prayer of thanks that she had Sue Ann to manage all the hiring and scheduling, leaving her to concentrate on inventory. She returned to the chest of drawers. The top was solid maple. It had minor water damage, but a deep sanding would take care of that. She’d originally planned to paint the piece, but it would be a shame to cover that beautiful wood grain.
The top three drawers slid open easily to reveal yellowed vintage wallpaper liners, but the bottom drawer wouldn’t budge. She turned the chest upside down to see if she could find the problem. Surprisingly, she was able to slide out the bottom divider panel without removing any nails. It wasn’t even glued. Once she had moved that out of the way and exposed the drawer runners, it became clear why the drawer wouldn’t open. Someone had put a screw through the bottom stile, directly into the center brace of the drawer. Odd.
She pulled a Phillips screwdriver from its holder on the pegboard and removed the screw. After she turned the chest right side up, the bottom drawer opened easily, revealing a Styrofoam rectangle cut to the exact dimensions of the drawer with two one-inch holes in diameter near the center. Hannah put her fingers in the holes and removed the foam. Underneath, another thicker layer of foam filled the drawer, but in the center was a circular cutout, and in that cutout lay a wooden ball about the size of a large grapefruit.
Someone had gone to a lot of trouble here. She picked up the ball and carried it to the workbench where the light was better. It was a wood inlay globe of the world. The continents and islands were made of light-and medium-colored wood, while the oceans looked like walnut. A giddy feeling bubbled up inside her. Almost certainly, this was the work of the same artist who had made the marquetry box Nicole won at the auction.
Hannah pulled a magnifying glass from the drawer for a closer look. Tiny triangles of dark wood edged with even darker strips gave the subtle appearance of waves in the ocean. The continents, too, were composed of minuscule shapes, with rough triangles along major mountain ranges and rounded shapes on the plains. An intricate compass rose floated in the center of the Atlantic Ocean, and a starburst marked the North Pole. Twenty-four longitudinal lines of tarnished silver flowed from pole to pole.
It was an incredible work of art. How could someone cut such tiny, precise shapes, much less inlay them in such an intricate pattern? She considered calling the auction house to report the unexpected find, but the terms of sale were “as is,” which meant the globe was hers.
Hannah ducked through the curtain to show it to Sue Ann, but she was busy with a customer going through a stack of quilts. Tiffany was ringing up a set of copper molds for another customer. The front door opened and Charlie Cutlass, one of Hannah’s favorite suppliers, stepped inside carrying a plastic bin. Hannah set the globe behind the counter and went to greet him.
“Hi, Charlie. I hope you’ve got more of those animal puzzles. We’ve almost sold out.” Hannah reserved a section of the store for what she called “future antiques,” where she sold works by local craftspeople on consignment. Charlie specialized in wood, turning bowls and candlesticks on his lathe and using his jigsaw to cut Christmas ornaments, whirligigs, and toys. His puzzles in the shapes of moose, bears, puffins, and eagles were always a favorite souvenir gift for children. She cleared some room on his display table.
“I do.” He unpacked several puzzles, along with some animal-shaped ornaments with raffia hanging loops. Hannah helped him add them on the display rack. Then he unwrapped two rolling pins, made by gluing various woods together and then turning them on a lathe, forming stripes of distinct colors along the length of the pins.
“Oh, these are gorgeous!” Hannah ran her finger along the polished wood. “People will love them.”
“I hope so. Is forty too much?” He pointed to the tag, which he’d already marked with the price and his initials. When they sold a consignment piece, the store kept a quarter and paid the rest to the artist.
“No, not for something as beautiful as this. If anything, you’re low.”
“Well, let’s try it at that price and see if they sell.”
“Sounds good.” Hannah signed a receipt listing all the items Charlie had brought. “Oh, I got something at auction today you’d be interested in. Let me show you.”
He followed her to the counter. “The Linacott auction?”
“Yes. Today was the first day. Tomorrow and Saturday will be the high-dollar furniture and art, but that’s out of my price range.”
“I’ll bet you had quite a crowd there. Lots of rumors floating around about that lady.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“People said that if a collector was looking for something specific, Candace Linacott could find it, but they’d better not ask too many questions about where she got it.”
“You think she imported things illegally?” Hannah asked as they came to the counter.
Charlie shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe people were just jealous of her success. You remember, shortly after she died, someone broke into her house on the coastal trail. I don’t know if they ever figured out what was stolen. That was, what, three years ago? I wonder why it took them so long to hold this auction.”
“The story I heard was that she left everything to a distant relative in Australia who had never even met her, so it took a while to get it all organized. And, apparently, she had stuff in storage lockers all over town. Some of it was incredibly valuable. Just think how easy it would have been for whoever handled the estate to overlook those rental payments and for the storage facility to throw out those antiques and collectibles thinking they were just junk.” Hannah shuddered.
“Yeah, or auctioned it off to an upscaler who would have painted over a Chippendale or some other treasure.”
“Speaking of treasure...” Hannah took the globe from the shelf and handed it to Charlie. “What do you think of this?”
“Wow!” Charlie pulled the piece close to his eye. “The detail is incredible. It’s not brand-new, but it doesn’t look that old, either. Do you know who made it?”
Hannah shook her head. “Believe it or not, I found it in the drawer of a dresser I bought. No provenance. I was hoping you might know.”
“I don’t, but I know someone who might.” Charlie pulled out his phone and swiped through a few screens. “Here it is. Peter Morozov from up north. He specializes in wood art.” Charlie passed her his phone, and Hannah entered the information into her own phone.
“Thanks, Charlie. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
They chatted for a few more minutes, and then Charlie took his leave. Once Hannah had emailed the expert, she took the globe with her to the workroom and began to unpack the other items. She’d unwrapped the bowl and was reaching for silver polish when her phone chimed. A text from Nicole.
Got the lock open, and already sold the box for a sixty-percent markup!
She didn’t add, “Na-na-na-na-na,” but Hannah could read between the lines. Hannah should never have mentioned her misgivings about the price Nicole had paid. At that point, the money was spent, so even if Hannah had been right, it wouldn’t have been helpful. Hannah sighed. Here she was, thirty-one years old, and she was still letting her little sister draw her into these petty battles. Time to be gracious.
Congratulations, she texted back, before turning her attention to the photos Nicole had attached. That box really was lovely, with the flowering vine pattern weaving over the top and sides. Even the interior of the box, shown in the second photo, was inlaid with a diamond pattern of light and dark woods. Beside the box lay an index card that had presumably been inside. Hannah enlarged the photo to see if she could read the card. Nothing but a few scribbles: N, S CW 30: E CCW 45: CR
Before she could study it further, she noticed a new email. The expert wanted photos of her globe. She set it on her worktable beside a ruler for scale and took three. Almost immediately after she’d sent them, her phone rang.
“This is Peter Morozov. Am I speaking to Hannah Yates?”
“Yes, hello, Mr. Morozov. Did the photos make it all right?”
“They did, and please call me Peter. Hannah, I believe you may have a Dimitri Karas there.”
“K-a-r-a-s?” Hannah confirmed as she jotted down the name.
“That’s right. Prolific artist, passed away two years ago. I can’t quite make out the fine detail from your photograph but look closely. Is there a letter K embedded in the pattern anywhere?”
“Let me see what I can find.” Hannah picked up her magnifying glass and studied the globe for a few moments. “Yes! I can see four Ks as part of the pattern in the compass rose.”
“Excellent! Most of his work is chests and jewelry boxes, but every year he would put out a few balls, either globes like yours or decorative Christmas ornaments. Lovely, intricate work. Once, I even got the chance to examine one of his puzzle boxes, but they’re incredibly rare.”
“Puzzle boxes?”
“Yes, he made a few custom ones for select clients, little cubes about eight inches tall with the puzzle embedded in the inlay pattern. Two years ago, one sold for just under twenty thousand.”
“What would you estimate a globe like mine would be worth?” Hannah asked.
“Well, if I can verify that your globe is indeed a Karas original, I’m willing to pay you, say, five thousand dollars.”
Wow. And Hannah thought Nicole overpaid at five hundred for the jewelry box. Trying to keep the excitement from her voice, she asked, “And how much will you turn around and sell it for?”
He chuckled. “That depends. I happen to know two or three people who collect Karas, so I’d just have to see who wants it most. You could try selling it yourself, of course, but it’s a niche market.”
He was right about that. Her store customers generally weren’t the sort to buy five-thousand-dollar knickknacks. She could try to sell the globe online, but that brought its own set of headaches. She would do a little research, but his price seemed reasonable. “I might be interested in a sale. Will you be in Anchorage anytime soon?”
“I’m afraid not. My first grandchild is due to make an appearance in the next week or so, and I can’t miss that.”
“Ah, congratulations. I can see why you wouldn’t want to travel.”
“Thank you. Any chance you could bring it to me? I’d be willing to add another five hundred to cover your expenses if you will bring it to Fairbanks.”
Fairbanks. A sudden pang pierced Hannah’s heart. She’d grown up in Fairbanks, but she hadn’t been back in thirteen years, not since the summer of her best friend’s funeral. She’d briefly considered attending her high school class’s ten-year reunion, but with Lindsay gone, there didn’t seem to be much point. Besides, she might have run into Lindsay’s family and the last thing she wanted was to cause them any more pain. But she’d heard that Lindsay’s parents had retired and moved to Idaho. Maybe it was time to visit Fairbanks again. “When would you want to meet?”
“The sooner the better.”
She considered. “Let me check on a few things. I’ll see if I can get a flight tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow works. I’ll text you my address. Let me know your plans.”
“I will. Thanks.” She hung up the phone. Five thousand dollars! She’d only paid fifty for the chest of drawers. A little research on her laptop verified that a Dimitri Karas jewelry box would sell to a collector for something in the neighborhood of eight thousand dollars, and a Karas Christmas ornament with a star pattern had sold at auction for a little over six thousand three months ago. Five thousand for her globe sounded more than fair. She pulled up the photo of the jewelry box Nicole had sent and zoomed in. Sure enough, she could make out a K in the design of one of the leaves on the vine.
Should she tell her sister the box she had sold for eight hundred dollars might be worth ten times that? Probably not. Besides, if Hannah planned to fly to Fairbanks tomorrow, she had more urgent things to do than torment Nicole. Still, she couldn’t resist sending her a photo and text. Look what was in the drawer of that old chest!
Checking online, Hannah found a flight in the morning, but she couldn’t get on a return flight the same day, so she reserved one for the next morning, Sunday. It would mean missing her usual church service, but that couldn’t be helped. By the time Hannah had booked her flights and hotel, and set up a meeting with Peter Morozov, it was almost closing time.
She ducked through the curtain to the storefront, where Tiff was ringing up a customer. Sue Ann tidied up a nearby display of ulus, traditional Inuit crescent-shaped knives, while two or three customers casually browsed in the same area.
“Did you call the expert Charlie recommended?” Sue Ann asked Hannah.
“I did, and it’s definitely the same artist that made Nicole’s box. You’re never going to believe what the expert said.” Hannah told her all about the offer and Peter’s request that she bring the globe to him.
“Five thousand dollars!” Sue Ann squealed, and the customers all looked in her direction. In a quieter voice she added, “That’s incredible.”
“I know. I figured I’d better head up to Fairbanks before he changes his mind. I booked an early flight for tomorrow morning and I’m meeting up with him at ten. I plan to stay overnight and fly back the next morning. You’re okay running the store without me, right?”
“Absolutely. Where are you staying in Fairbanks?”
“At the Young Hotel near the airport. It’s a seven thirty return flight, so I should be back in time to open Sunday afternoon. I know you have that Bible study on Sundays.”
“Don’t worry about it. I have Tiff and Cheryl scheduled to open that day, and my class ends at two. Ooh, I’m so excited.”
“Me, too.” Hannah noticed that one of the customers, a tall blond man wearing shades and a black down jacket, was hovering nearby with a gold pan, as if he was ready to check out. Tiff was busy talking to another customer in the crafts area.
Hannah stepped up to the counter and the man set the pan down and reached for his wallet. Hannah smiled. “This pan dates back to the 1899 gold rush in Nome. We acquired it from the great-granddaughter of a miner who went there in early 1900. The provenance is on the attached card.”
The man just grunted and looked away while she rang up and bagged his purchase. He paid cash, took one last look around the now-empty store, and left. Hannah followed him to the door and locked it, then turned the sign to Closed.
Tiff immediately headed for the curtain leading to the back room. “Sorry, I have to go. Study session.”
“Okay,” Sue Ann called, but the clang of the back door closing was her only answer.
Hannah raised an eyebrow. “A study session on a Friday night?”
Sue Ann chuckled. “More likely a date.”
Together, Hannah and Sue Ann went through the closing routine. Once they had finished, Hannah encased the globe in bubble wrap and tucked it into her tote next to the cash bag. “I think I’ll grab some dinner at Kriner’s Diner after I make the night deposit. Then I’d better head home and pack.”
Sue Ann grinned. “Breakfast for dinner again, huh?”
“Kriner’s has other things on the menu,” Hannah protested.
“Yeah, but you’re not going to order them.” Sue Ann knew her so well. “Bradley is cooking tonight so it will probably be moose burgers for us. Have a great trip. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“Thanks, Sue Ann. See you in a couple of days.” Hannah set the alarm at the store, and they drove off in different directions.
Hannah deposited the day’s cash and headed for the diner, where she declined a menu and put in her usual order. She was tempted to take the globe from her tote to study while she waited for food, but since she’d wrapped it up, she contented herself with studying the photos she’d taken. The longer she looked, the more details she noticed, like flowing shapes along major rivers, and the way the equator was made up of several razor-thin lines of wood, rather than one piece.
The waiter brought her waffles with a side of reindeer sausage. Hannah bowed her head for a silent grace and then continued to study the photos while she ate. An alert popped up on her phone. The store security system had gone off!
Maybe it was a false alarm. She pushed the plate away and pulled up the security camera view. A dark figure in a hooded down jacket climbed through the smashed front window and ran through the store until he disappeared from the camera’s view just past the front counter.
Hannah threw enough cash to cover her dinner and tip on the table and called to the waiter, “Sorry, I have an emergency.”
“Do you want me to box up the rest?” he asked as Hannah pulled on her coat, but she shook her head.
“No time, but thanks.” She ran to the parking lot, jumped into her SUV, and headed for the store.
By the time she arrived, the police were there. Broken glass littered the sidewalk and glinted from the seat of a chair displayed in the window. Hannah identified herself, and one of the police officers took her aside. “Looks like a smash and grab. Can you spot anything missing from your window display from here?”
Hannah looked it over. The items in the bookcase seemed undisturbed, as did the floor lamp and the throw she’d arranged over the arm of the chair. The side table was knocked over, spilling a vase and book onto the floor, but they appeared undamaged.
She showed the officer the camera footage of the burglar heading straight for the back of the store, not even stopping to check the till. Maybe he’d guessed that the cash drawer would be locked up in the safe in the back. He seemed tall, but with the low lighting, she couldn’t make out his face or anything distinctive about him. “It doesn’t show him coming back, so I assume he left through the back door.”
“It was standing open when we got here,” the police officer confirmed. “Do you have cameras in the back?”
“No.” It hadn’t occurred to her that she might need them.
“Okay. Well, once we’re done, we’ll have you do a walk-through and figure out what’s missing.”
“Will you be taking fingerprints?” Hannah asked.
He shook his head. “Too many people in and out of a store for fingerprints to mean much. Besides, it looked like in your video that he was wearing gloves.”
A green pickup truck pulled up to the curb, and Sue Ann jumped out of the passenger seat and ran to pull Hannah into a hug. “I got the alert. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Hannah assured her. “You didn’t have to come.”
“We brought plywood,” Sue Ann’s husband, Bradley, said as he joined them. “Once they’re done here, we can board up the window until you can get it repaired.”
“Thank you. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. I guess I won’t be going to Fairbanks tomorrow.”
Sue Ann gasped. “Did they steal the globe?”
“No, I had it with me.”
“Oh, thank goodness. Then you have to go,” Sue Ann insisted. “You’ve got the flight all booked and that appointment with the expert. I can handle cleaning up the glass and getting the window fixed and whatever else needs doing tomorrow. Sir?” She tapped the police officer on the arm. “I’m Sue Ann Bolton, Hannah’s store manager. Hannah has an important meeting in Fairbanks tomorrow. I can sign police reports or whatever you need done, right?”
“When will you be back?” he asked Hannah.
“Sunday morning,” she answered.
“No problem, then. You’ll just need to sign the report in the next week or so. Technically, you have a year to file a report, but your insurance will want it before they process your claim.”
“I’ll call the insurance agent, too,” Sue Ann told her. “See, no reason to put off the trip.”
Bradley nodded. “We’ve got you covered.”
“All right then, I’ll go. Thank you.” Hannah wrapped her arms around both of them. “You’re the best.”
