by Wendy Tyson
Allison looked up, surprised. “She was embezzling from him?”
Vaughn nodded. “Looks like from well before they started dating up through the marriage. Ole Clarice was gonna get her comeuppance one way or another.”
Was that why she’d never told Sam about a son? Allison wondered. “Vaughn,” she said, “Did you find any mention of Michael when you were researching Clarice?”
“You’re wondering whether Michael is really who he says he is?”
“Elle said they did a paternity test, but Michael could just be using this story as a way to get to Sam’s money.”
“In which case Elle could be right? Michael could be trying to undermine Sam—and Pay It Forward—in order to get to the inheritance.”
“As in making Sam seem more deteriorated than he is?”
Vaughn nodded. “What if Michael is here on the property? What if he’s trying to make Sam go mad?”
“You’ve been watching too many old horror movies.”
“Crazy things happen around here. I’ve only been at the castle for a day and already I see that.”
Allison agreed. Crazy stuff did happen here. “So we have a few theories, none of which have much in the way of evidence. One, Douglas is behind Shirin’s death, and Damien’s death was an accident. Two, Douglas is behind both of their deaths out of some weird family vendetta.”
Vaughn said, “Three, Michael is behind this.”
“But he was on his way to America when Shirin died.”
“So we think.” Vaughn paused. “Although why would Michael want to kill Shirin?”
Allison’s mind flashed back to that day on the path by the cottage, the day she saw Douglas carrying climbing gear. Shirin’s arm had been covered in bruises. The same type of bruises Elle wore—and had attributed to her half-brother.
“What if Shirin was sleeping with Michael?”
“An affair?”
“Sure. Think about it. Shirin gets her husband on the board of Pay It Forward a few years before Michael surfaces. She gets dragged to these board meetings on a regular basis. Her husband is never around, and there is only so much pool time she can handle. What better way to amuse herself than with a handsome single man?”
“Another board member who has a handy excuse to be there when she does.” Vaughn stared at Clarice’s picture on the computer. “But why kill Shirin?”
Allison slapped her hand against the table. “Because she caught on to Michael’s charade. She somehow learned that Michael was tricking his father, that his sights were set on the family fortune. A fortune that would be gone if Sam had his way. So he killed her.”
Vaughn rubbed his eyes. “Since we’re playing in fantasy land anyway, let’s pretend for a moment that Damien knew something too. Or suspected.”
“Michael could have arranged his accident.” Allison put air quotes around the word accident. “You have to admit, it’s a theory that explains what’s happened.”
Grace screeched and they both looked up. She was chasing one of the goats across the yard while the other one, a young male, was head-butting her in the derriere. Mia was trying to referee.
Vaughn smiled. “She really is a great kid.”
“I know. I live in fear every day that Amy will show up and demand to have her back.”
They watched Grace frolic for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.
“If Michael and Shirin were having an affair, then Douglas may have had other reasons to kill Shirin.”
Vaughn turned his head. “Back to Douglas?”
“Jason is right. It’s always the husband.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Allison made a half-hearted attempt to work on her book while Grace napped and Mia strolled the grounds in the company of Karina. It was no use. She couldn’t get the thought of Shirin’s death off her mind. And she was starting to feel cooped up here, imprisoned. A feeling intensified by the unpredictable storms.
By two, she’d given up completely and turned back to Vaughn’s research. She reviewed the information about Clarice and considered what she knew about Elle’s mother, Fawn. Could there be other offspring, kids as yet unidentified? Earlier she’d thought Sam Norton was at the heart of this, and now she was back to thinking about his fortune. Money was an incredible motivator. And a prime motive for murder.
But keep she wanted to keep it simple. Damien. Shirin. A ransacked room. Clearly someone thought Michael had something incriminating. Or they wanted it to look that way.
Elle interrupted her thoughts a little after three. She came inside carrying a bottle of local wine and two glasses.
“Peace offering,” she said.
It was Allison’s second peace offering that day. She accepted a glass of cold, dry wine and felt the sting as that first sip hit her throat. After she’d downed a few sips, she took a hard look at Elle.
“You seem better today.”
“I locked my doors and got a good night’s sleep.” Elle smiled. “That helped.”
Allison had to agree. Elle’s gaze wandered to the mountain peaks beyond the castle’s bounds, and Allison’s eyes followed. Clouds like halos encircled the rocky tops of the haunting formations. The air was chilly, unseasonably so, and Allison wrapped her arms around her chest.
“The Dolomites manage to be beautiful and creepy at the same time, don’t you think?”
“They’re certainly stunning.” Allison turned to Elle. “Perhaps the creepy is the result of what you’ve experienced.”
“Perhaps.”
Behind them, the castle rose on the hill, a fitting tribute to the majestic mountains. Elle stood and looked at the castle. “Are you still planning to leave?”
“Mia and Grace have a place booked for tomorrow. Vaughn and I will follow.”
“I found you a house in town, if you want it. It’s available on Tuesday.” She tilted her head and a lock of blonde hair covered one eye. “If you can wait until then.”
“Thank you. I think I’ll have Grace go tomorrow as planned. But I appreciate the effort.”
Elle held out a paper. “For you.”
Allison glanced down at it. After a moment, she saw that it was an order for a urinalysis. More specifically a drug test.
“I don’t understand.”
“I had this taken yesterday after our discussion. I paid a private lab to do it. I should receive the results in the next day or two.”
Allison glanced at the report again. “Why?”
“To prove that I’m not using.” Elle pushed her hair aside. She wore white Capri pants and a black and white tunic, and she crossed one skinny leg over the other, tugging a Marlboro from a pack in her pocket as she did so. “Cigarette?”
Allison smiled. “No, but thank you.”
“So I’m not using. And I want to help.”
Allison sighed. She took another sip of wine, thinking.
“Remember the personal plan we started but never finished?”
Elle nodded.
“Finish it.”
Elle’s eyes widened. “Okay, I will.”
“Then we’ll talk.”
“Understood.” Elle’s face flushed. “Anything else?”
“Can you make the weather clear up?”
“I’m afraid not.”
They sat in comfortable silence for another quarter of an hour. When the wine was finished and the hazy sun had dipped farther below the highest peak, Elle stood to leave.
She stopped by Allison’s open laptop. Her gaze fell on the screen. “What are you working on?”
Allison flipped her laptop closed. No use in alarming Elle. But it was too late. She’d seen the screen.
“Why are you looking at information about Michael’s mother?”
“Did you know she’d been embezzling from your dad?”
“Really? No. I had no idea.”
“That’s why your dad let her go.”
“What does Clarice have to do with anything?”
“Honestly?” Allison debated how much to say. “Perhaps Shirin’s death.”
“You think Clarice killed Shirin?” Elle’s expression said Allison was three marbles short of a dozen.
“No, but I think you may be right about Michael. That he is messing with your dad. That he’s somehow involved in all of this. Did you know he has a record?”
“He told my dad early on.” Elle lingered by the table. “What’s changed your mind about him?”
“Right now, I’m just flirting with the possibilities. But Michael’s story just always seemed too…convenient.”
“I’ve thought that too. But then I thought maybe I was just being selfish. Wanting my dad to myself.” Elle chewed at her bottom lip. “If Michael isn’t the actual killer, then who? Douglas? He seems like the obvious choice.”
“For more reasons than may meet the eye.” Allison sighed. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
Elle plopped back down in her seat. “I’m all ears.”
Allison shared some of the conversation she and Vaughn had earlier. She mentioned their concerns about Douglas and the fact that things seemed to revolve around her father, Sam.
“You mean if Damien was murdered.”
It was Allison’s turn to be surprised. “Yes. If Damien is part of what’s happening, that changes things, don’t you think?”
Elle nodded slowly. “I’ve told you all along that I don’t think my husband’s death was an accident.” A shadow crossed her features. “I didn’t know about Douglas. About his past.” She shuddered. “All this time…him here. With Shirin. With Lara. And Shirin knew?”
Allison nodded.
“Crazy.” Elle picked at the edge of her kaftan. “You must think we’re all nuts.” She glanced at Allison through hooded eyes. “Maybe we are.” She straightened. “It could be someone different, Allison. One of the staff members. A rabid fan with a god complex.”
“We’ve thought of that. I’m sure Balzan has too.” Allison thought about Elle’s offer to help. “I know you’re not involved with your dad’s foundation, but can you get me documents? Particularly information about applicants who were rejected?”
“Sure, I can try. Are you thinking someone who applied to the foundation did this?”
“We’re casting a very wide net right now. What I am thinking is that the same group of people were here the night Damien died and the night Shirin died, right?”
“Well, except for Michael. He may or may not have been here the night Shirin died.”
Like Schrodinger’s cat, Allison mused. The elusive Michael. She said, “Let’s assume for the moment he was. That leaves a finite group of suspects, some of whom the family has known for years.” Not that that means anything, Allison thought. As history had taught her. “How well do you know the employees?”
“You mean Hilda, Dominic, and Karina?”
“The ones who were here for both deaths.”
“That would be the group. Dominic has been here since Damien’s family owned the place.”
“Could he have a vendetta against Damien? Perhaps Damien’s family somehow wronged him?”
“He has the most access, so I guess anything is possible. He seems devoted. And the Duarte family was very good to Dominic and his kids.”
“How about the women?”
“I think Karina’s been here for almost two years. Hilda, a little over a year. But to be fair, we didn’t need Hilda until we decided someone should look after Daddy.”
“And when was that?”
“A little over a year ago.”
“That’s when he got sick?”
A thinker’s crease formed between Elle’s eyes. “You know. It was kind of sudden. He’s always been a little off—due most likely to a lifetime of partying and some other questionable choices—but one day we found him wandering by the old church ruins alone. He seemed disoriented and confused. We had a local doctor come in, and he diagnosed him with early onset dementia. He gave him some medicines and said there really is no cure. After that, the episodes were infrequent, but recently they’ve happened closer together.”
“Has he seen specialists?”
“The Italian doctor recommended he see a neurologist. Michael found people in LA, a team of doctors who specialize in dementia. But Daddy said no way. My grandfather had Alzheimer’s. My father said he saw what his dad went through and he didn’t want to be anyone’s guinea pig. If it was meant to be, he’d lose his faculties here, where it’s peaceful.” Elle frowned. “Was peaceful.”
Allison took this in. “Michael, huh? So who found the local doctor?”
“Michael.”
Pulse quickening, Allison said, “And you checked out the meds he put your father on?”
“Of course. Well, Michael did. All normal drugs for helping someone deal with symptoms of dementia.”
Allison recalled her mother’s litany of meds. While it was true they couldn’t cure her disease, they did help ease some of the symptoms. For a while anyway. “I’d love to see what he’s on.”
“Sure.” Elle’s frown deepened. “You don’t think—”
Allison held up a hand. “Just following up on your theory and checking out every angle.”
Elle nodded. “Since the police came and inspected Michael’s room, I haven’t seen any more signs of him. He may have left.”
“Did anyone locate his laptop? I don’t understand why Balzan doesn’t search the entire castle.”
“He’s probably nervous to upset my father,” Elle said. “I’m guessing he’s waiting until he has more to go on.”
Allison looked up. She could see Mia and Karina turning the corner of the walking path that led past the pools and spa. The two women looked deep in conversation, although from this distance, Allison couldn’t make out their faces. After a few more moments of conversation, Mia turned back to go to her own cottage, and Karina walked toward the castle.
“How about Karina?” Allison asked. “How much do you trust her?”
“Karina? We don’t always see eye to eye, but she’s been a rock through everything.”
“How did you find her?”
Elle scowled. “You know, I think she was recommended to Daddy by Michael.” She shrugged. “I don’t really know for sure. She came in, Daddy liked her, I interviewed her, and she was hired. She speaks fluent German and Italian, which helps around here. And she’s smart. Very sharp.”
“How did she feel about my arrival?”
“It was her idea for me to move on with my life. She’s been pushing me to leave the castle ever since Damien died. I found you through Delvar, not her, though.” Elle scrunched her nose. “Come to think of it, when I said I was hiring you, Karina thought it was overkill.”
“She didn’t want me out here?”
“She didn’t say that. She just seemed to disapprove of my choice to hire an image consultant in general. Thought I should be able to help myself. A ‘waste of money’ were her words.”
Intriguing, Allison thought. A threat? Someone to undermine her own control and authority? “How about Hilda?”
Elle smiled. “She’s a hard one to pin down. She’s quiet but dutiful, kind but reserved. I’m sure you saw that when she was with Grace.”
“Grace sure loves her.” A thought that now gave Allison pause. “Who does she talk to here at the castle? Has she made any friends?”
“Not really. Sometimes I see her chatting with Dominic. And on occasion she’ll dine with Karina. Mostly she stays to herself.”
“Who recommended Hilda?”
“The doctor who saw my father. Michael arranged for her to stay here.”
Michael again. He’d had a
lot of impact for someone relatively new to the family. Allison stared into her empty wine glass, wishing for more vino but knowing that she needed her wits about her.
“And how about Jeremy?”
Elle shrugged. “Jeremy’s Jeremy. Sometimes it’s hard to reconcile the public figure with the guy who shows up at our house. Keeps to himself a lot. Loves women. He’s been friends with my dad forever. I think he’s as upset about my father’s condition as I am.”
Allison was hard pressed to see the director’s motive in killing Damien or Shirin. He had plenty of money, and while his wife had been having an affair with Shirin’s husband, why go after Shirin rather than Douglas? “Lara?”
“Part of our circle since she married Jeremy. While it’s possible she’d want Shirin out of the picture, it’s doubtful. She doesn’t love Douglas. I’m not sure she’s capable of loving anyone. And she’s loaded too.”
Allison had to agree. Lara did not seem remotely love struck when Allison talked to her about Douglas. “That leaves Mazy.”
Elle let out a derisive snort. “It would be funny if Mazy had something to do with any of this.”
“Funny? Why is that?”
“She really is outside of it all. No relationship with anyone, other than a decades old fling with Daddy. She’s just here because Jeremy is making one of her books into a movie and she has certain creative rights. If she was involved? It’d be like she was the novelist writing the action in a book.”
Or a movie, Allison thought. And we’re all stars. Someone here knew the bigger picture and was directing the action. But who?
And why?
TWENTY-NINE
Allison didn’t catch up with Mia until that evening. She found her former mentor in the spa, relaxing in the sauna, a towel wrapped around her narrow rib cage. It was after six, and the castle felt deserted. Allison was looking forward to spending the evening with Grace because she and Mia were leaving for the village the next morning, but Vaughn had kicked her out of the cottage to have some “me” time. “I know you, Allison,” he’d said. “And if you don’t get some exercise or relax for a bit, you’ll be a bear all night.”