by Wendy Tyson
“Can I talk to the police without an attorney?”
“Stick to the facts. If they start asking personal or sensitive questions, stop talking. But the truth about what you saw is fine.” He paused. “Do they think it was foul play?”
“Reading between the lines? He’s certainly not ruling it out.”
“As he shouldn’t.” Jason sighed, and Allison heard the worry over the phone. “I’m more concerned about you and Grace. Please be careful. If you venture out, stick to the main trails. Stay visible. And don’t go alone. Just in case.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll see you this weekend. If you need me before then, call. I can be there in a few hours.”
Allison thanked him, although she knew she would only call him if it was urgent. Jason needed to focus on this job, on his career. He didn’t need to get involved with her overactive imagination or the drama of the Rose-Norton family.
Vaughn seemed to feel differently. “You’re over there alone, hanging out with some crazy famous family. Who knows what’s going down, Allison. Ask Jason to come earlier.”
“I can’t, Vaughn. You know as well as I that he has to get through this orientation process.”
“Then find somewhere else to stay and have that crazy client come to you.”
“You forget—our contract called for me to stay on the premises.”
“Not if someone was killed. I’m sure we could fight that.”
“It’s being treated as an accident.” So far, anyway. Allison glanced out the window, where Hilda and Grace were blowing bubbles on the garden patio. Grace’s smile was a yard wide, and she looked happier and healthier than Allison had ever seen her. “Besides, Grace loves it here. She loves the environment, her babysitter, the animals, the pools.”
Vaughn grunted. “I’d feel better if I were there.”
“You’re coming soon enough.”
His voice brightened. “That’s true. Next Friday.”
“Are Jamie and Angela coming?”
“Probably not. The doctor says Jamie can travel, but the transatlantic flight and the limited medical resources where you are aren’t advisable.”
Allison understood. She wondered whether he and Mia would travel together, or whether they would arrive separately.
Another grunt. “You didn’t ask, but I’ll tell you anyway. Mia and I are traveling together. I’ll send you our itinerary.”
Together? Well, that was progress. Perhaps.
“Listen, I have to go. Stay safe over there, Allison. Keep me posted. And mind your business.”
Allison laughed. Her tendency to land right into the thick of trouble had become a running joke between them. “Don’t I always?”
“No, you don’t. In fact, your talent for finding trouble may be greater than your talent for consulting.”
“I’ll behave.”
This time Vaughn laughed. “Famous last words.”
SEVENTEEN
For the next two days, Elle vacillated between model client and emotional mess. Allison tried to ground her with exercises and activities aimed at her reintroduction to her Hollywood circles, and while Elle would focus for periods, eventually her attention would wane. The presence of the police seemed to especially unnerve her. Enough so that Allison asked her again whether she thought Shirin had been murdered.
“I don’t know,” Elle said. “Who would do that to Shirin?”
It was Saturday. Elle had just completed a Skype conversation with one of Allison’s experts, a career counselor from Philadelphia who specialized in acting, production, and media. The goal of the conversation was to help Elle hone in on her next career steps—and to think about whether acting was really what she wanted to do. The outcome of the conversation was inconclusive, but Allison hoped that it provided Elle with fodder to question her goals. Her interest in acting seemed half-hearted at best. But with all of the distractions at the castle, Elle seemed especially distant.
“You would have a better idea of that than I would.” Allison sat back against the couch. They were in Elle’s rooms, where she asked that they meet. Elle was curled up on a large floor pillow. While she had done little to comb through the tangles in her hair, her clothes were different—softer, more comfortable. Maybe their conversation from a few days prior had sunk in. Maybe.
Allison decided to test the waters. “The police asked me about the bruises on Shirin’s arm.”
Elle looked down at her hands. She shifted in her seat. “What bruises?” No eye contact.
“On her wrist. They showed me a photo, asked who may have done that.” Allison paused, letting that sink in. “I told them I had seen the bruises too, the day she stormed out of the castle.”
Elle rubbed her own arm absentmindedly. Still looking down, she said, “I don’t know who would have done that.”
“No?”
Elle looked up. “No.”
The silence hung in the air between them until Elle finally said, “Chef wants to talk to you about the wedding reception. She has some great ideas for food.”
“About that—”
“Don’t tell me you’re backing out. We’re all looking forward to it.”
“Given the circumstances, we may have to postpone it.”
“What circumstances? Shirin’s fall? Oh, Allison, that was probably an accident. Shirin got upset and stormed off. In the heat of emotion, she got turned around and slipped. It’s as awful and simple as that.”
“The continued police presence?”
Elle stood, paced around the room. “We’re a group of Americans living abroad. They don’t know or trust us, and they’re thorough here.” She shrugged. “If they really thought a crime had been committed, they would take official steps to keep people here. They haven’t done that.”
She had a point. “What about Damien’s death? Before you seemed so convinced it was no accident. Now there have been two deaths on this property, and you’ve convinced yourself Shirin simply fell.”
Elle stopped moving. Her shoulders sagged. “Douglas.”
“Douglas?”
“Douglas probably gave Shirin those bruises. He liked rough sex. She told me that.”
“Was he capable of killing his wife, Elle?”
Elle spun around. Her eyes met Allison’s. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”
Jason arrived later that night looking exhausted and distracted. He smiled broadly when he saw Allison and Grace, picked them both up, one at a time, and swung them around.
“How are my girls?”
“We missed you,” Allison said.
Grace nodded. She wrapped her small arms around his legs and beamed.
“Someone’s looking good,” he said, giving Grace a kiss. He glanced at Allison. “You’re right. The country air agrees with her.”
“She loves it here,” Allison said to Grace, “Why don’t you get your Legos and we’ll take Uncle Jason outside. You can show him how you like to build.”
Grace ran off. Allison handed Jason a glass of red wine and led them both outside to the garden patio. It was dusk, and the sun was just starting to sink into the horizon in fat bands of orange, yellow, and red. Sweet scents of jasmine wafted from the flowerbeds surrounding the patio, the flowers’ saturated colors echoing the vibrancy of the sunset beyond.
“A person could get used to this.” Jason sat in one chair and put his feet up on another. He took a long sip of wine and said, “How are things going?”
Allison gave him a rundown on her work with Elle. “For a while she was doing better. She’s distracted again.”
“Someone did just die on her property.”
“It’s more than that.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know. I can’t quite put my finger on it, Jason. She seems…lost.”
&nbs
p; “You don’t know her that well yet, Al. Maybe this is the real Elle.”
Allison shook her head. She’d thought about that. “I get glimpses sometimes, glimpses of someone far more put together. It makes me think she’s in there.”
Jason stared into his wine glass, swirling the liquid in the crystal around and around. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Allison, but you need to stay out of trouble. I know you’re drawn to solving problems, but this mess of a family is bigger than you need right now.”
Echoes of Vaughn. Allison nodded.
Jason looked up. He held Allison’s gaze. “Look, I know you have to do what you believe is right. And I’ve seen you in action often enough to trust your judgment—and your ability to care for yourself. But you’re in a foreign country. Things are different here.” He focused his gaze on the pool area below. “And it’s hard to know who to trust. So just don’t go looking for problems, okay?”
“You’re the one who convinced me to stay.”
“I know—and now I regret it.”
Allison moved closer to Jason. She put his glass on the table and wrapped her arms around his broad chest. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
“I love you, Jason.”
Jason picked Allison’s chin up with two fingers. Looking into his face, she saw sad eyes and the little bit of gray around his temple. He kissed her. She kissed back.
Grace ran outside with a basket full of Lego blocks.
Allison didn’t pull away from Jason. Arms still entwined around her fiancé, she watched Grace build a small garage with a rainbow of Lego bricks. Jason’s words reverberated in her brain. No trouble. It seemed like it just might be too late for that.
Allison didn’t have to go looking for trouble. It found her again, in the form of Lara later that day. Allison was sitting at the pool, working on her book and watching Grace and Hilda play catch with a beach ball while Jason went for a bike ride, when the supermodel slid in the chair across from her. She wore a white terry cloth one-piece jumpsuit, flip flops, and red sunglasses. When she removed her sunglasses, Allison noticed she wore no makeup. She was stunning even without it.
Allison closed her laptop. “Can I do something for you, Lara?”
Lara pulled her hair from its holder and swung her head, letting her famous tresses fly around her face. She smiled—a practiced smile Allison was sure Lara thought was coy and convincing.
“I was hoping to talk to you about that day in the woods.” Although her English was impeccable, Allison still heard the hard edges of Lara’s Eastern-European accent.
Allison waited. She knew exactly what day Lara was talking about, but she wasn’t about to let her off that easily.
“What you saw…it was not what it looked like.”
Allison turned her head and smiled. “What did it look like?”
“Like me and Douglas. Like we were…together.”
Allison glanced around, making sure there were no eavesdroppers. She leaned in. “I don’t think there was any question about what Jason and I saw.”
Lara flashed that Cover Girl smile again. “It was just a single dalliance. A moment of weakness for both of us.”
Allison closed her eyes and rubbed them. She hoped when she’d open them again, Lara would be gone. But there she was—her expression a study in rehearsed contrition.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, Lara. We both know what was going on. It’s no secret. Jason and I just happened to see you.”
“What did you tell the polizia?”
“I answered the inspector’s questions truthfully.”
Lara bit her lip and frowned. “Did they ask about us…about me?”
“They asked about what happened at dinner. I’m sure they asked you too.”
Lara nodded. Her eyes skirted back and forth across the pool veranda, landing on Allison with a plaintive gaze. “But you didn’t tell them about the forest.”
It was a statement, not a question—one Allison refused to validate. “I will continue to answer the inspector’s questions truthfully, if that’s what you want to know.” Allison tapped the edge of her laptop. “Is that all? I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m working—”
“What will it take?” Lara blurted out. “To keep this quiet.”
Allison felt her breath catch in her throat. Was she actually offering her money to cover up what she saw?
Lara went on. “For now, Jeremy believes Shirin was paranoid. He never liked her, so it was not hard to convince him that she was making false accusations the night she died. If he finds out you caught us in the woods…that will change things. You’re strangers, with no connection. Please. I will give you whatever you ask for, whatever you need.”
Allison sat back in her seat, arms across her chest. “And if Jeremey finds out?”
“He’ll divorce me. We have a prenup.”
“Surely you knew that before—”
“Before I slept with Douglas?” She laughed shrilly. “Of course. But Jeremy doesn’t really care. He just doesn’t want to be confronted with it. If he can pretend not to know, he can go on with his own little affairs and everyone is happy. If he’s confronted with what I did, that changes. Ego is involved.” Lara placed a hand on the table and leaned over, her face just inches from Allison’s. “So? How much?”
“I don’t work that way.”
“You’re going to tell my husband.”
Surprised, Allison said, “Look, I don’t agree with what you did, but I have no intention of getting into the middle of your marriage.”
“How about the police? You’re going to tell them?”
“If they ask. Or if it becomes relevant.”
A new flash of fear. “Relevant?”
“If the police are looking for motive.”
“Are you saying Shirin didn’t fall?”
“I’m saying her death is under investigation.” Allison tilted her head. “Inspector Balzan has practically set up camp in the dining room. Surely you noticed.” As soon as the words were out, Allison knew how wrong they were. Lara, caught in her own marital drama, was only focused on Lara. She probably didn’t notice.
“You cannot tell the police.” No attempt at coy or contrite now. “If you do, I will have to tell my uncle. I don’t think your fiancé will appreciate that.”
Lara’s uncle, the CEO of Jason’s new company. Allison closed the top of her laptop and stood.
“Where are you going?” Lara asked. “What about my uncle?”
“I doubt that he will be thrilled you’re risking your marriage to sleep with another man. And I can’t imagine the CEO of such a big company would like his name—or his company’s name—associated with a woman who commits blackmail.” Allison held Lara’s gaze for another beat. “Because that’s what you just did.”
Lara blinked. A French-manicured hand ran its way through her hair before knotting at the base of her throat. Her mouth formed a word that looked a lot like “bitch,” but no sound came out. In the next instance, Grace was running across the deck with Hilda behind her. Lara caught Hilda’s eye and then turned to go without another word about the police.
Allison excused herself from the pool area and left Grace with Hilda so that she could call Vaughn. While sitting in her cottage, on the bed with the windows closed, she explained her conversation with Lara to Vaughn.
“She actually offered you a bribe?”
“She did. In fact, she offered me ‘whatever’ I needed.” Allison paused. “Have you found anything else about Elle’s family?”
“Jamie’s working on it. You want me to see what I can find on Lara and Jeremy in the meantime?”
“Yes,” Allison said. “And Douglas Alden.” She thought of the bruises on Shirin’s wrist. On Elle’s arm. Connected? But how? Could Jeremy or Lara have been involved?
“I hear the whe
els turning from Villanova, Allison. And that’s not good. You think something bigger is going on.”
Allison sighed. “I do.”
“You trust your instincts. And they’re usually right.”
“But I—we—have been through a lot. My imagination sometimes works overtime these days. Two people fell. Am I seeing shadows where there is only light?”
“People die in mountainous places. Chamonix in the French Alps, for example, has one of the highest rates of ski fatalities. People fall, freeze, get lost…why do you think I avoid the outdoors?”
Allison laughed. “Because you’re a city boy who likes your comforts.”
“Damn right. And I know my limits.” More seriously, he said, “Why don’t you come home? You can write from here. Get married at some posh place on the Main Line. Or at Mia’s farm. She’d like that.” He paused. “I know I pushed you into this, and I’m sorry—”
“Stop. I made my own decision. And it’s not so bad. At least it’s been…interesting.” Besides, while that all sounded nice, Allison was afraid it wasn’t nearly that simple. “If my gut is wrong, then I’m obligated to finish up here. My reputation—our reputation—is at stake. And if I’m right, there’s no way the police will let me leave the country.”
It was a long time before Vaughn responded. Allison figured he was thinking of police interrogations, chronic angst, and all of the unpleasantness that went with suspicion of murder. He would know. Vaughn said, “So leave now, then, before it’s too late. Before anyone forbids you.”
Allison glanced out the window toward the castle looming in the distance. She spotted Jason speeding down the path on his mountain bike, and, beyond her fiancé, the small black European car that signaled the presence of Inspector Kristoff Balzan. It was joined by three other cars—none that she recognized.
“I think it’s too late for that,” she said. “The wheels of justice are turning.”
“What the hell are all the police here for?” Jason asked. He was still panting from his ride, and his face was tomato-red underneath his helmet. He took a long drink from his water bottle, swung one leg over the bike, and unclipped from the other pedal. “Did they find another body?” They were standing on the cottage stoop and he looked past Allison into the cottage. “Where is Grace?”