Fatal Facade

by Wendy Tyson

  “People were killed down here,” Elle whispered. “It’s part of the family lore.”

  “Not the best time for ghost stories,” Vaughn said.

  Their feet echoed against the stones. The air, moist and laden with mold, made breathing difficult and Allison’s head throb worse. She pulled ahead, urging them on.

  In the farthest recesses, in what was an old castle holding cell, they found Hilda. She was alone and tied to a chair, her head facing a blank wall.

  When she heard them, her body tensed. She moaned through her gag.

  “It’s okay,” Allison said. “We’re here to help.”

  Her eyes welled when she saw their faces. They untied her.

  Allison whispered, “Is Karina here? In this basement?”

  Hilda shook her head. “She took Sam. But I don’t know where.”

  “Is she planning to kill him, Hilda? Is she?” Elle started to shake the nurse and Allison stopped her. “Where is my father?”

  Hilda just shook her head again. Her thin shoulders sagged. She had bruises along her arms. Allison figured she must have suspected something for some time. “Has Karina been threatening you?”

  “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just do my job. I like the girl. I like Mr. Norton.”

  “You figured out she was giving him something else. Making his symptoms worse.”

  “Baclofen. Restoril. She would use these drugs to make him feel unstable, seem crazy. I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong, but then I realized she had switched Miss Elle’s Benadryl. She’s evil.”

  Allison thought of the bruises on Shirin’s wrists. “Had Shirin figured that out too?”

  Hilda nodded, eyes watering. “She caught Karina drugging Sam. She confronted her. They argued.”

  And Shirin ended up dead.

  “We need to find her,” Elle said. “Karina must be here somewhere.”

  Vaughn sprinted out of the room and toward the stairs that led to the first floor. “What about the stable?” he said over his shoulder. “Did anyone check there?” When no one responded, Vaughn said, “Let’s go, then. We’ll head outside.”

  The relentless rain continued to pour.

  A terrified Hilda was scared to be alone, so they decided to split up. Elle and Hilda would check the woodshed. Allison and Vaughn, the stables.

  They sprinted down the trail that led past the cottages, near the pool, and out toward the stables. The air was chilly, and smoke from the now-dampened fire hung low in the air, choking them and making them cough. Vaughn was faster than Allison, and she struggled to keep up.

  “Hope your phone works,” he said. “And you know the equivalent of 911 here in Italy.”

  I do, Allison thought. But a lot good it will do if I can’t speak Italian or German. She vowed to learn another language in addition to English. It was about time.

  As they passed the pool, Vaughn slowed. “Do you see that?”

  He squinted in the direction of the spa. Allison’s gaze followed. There was a light—very faint, but visible—coming from within.

  Vaughn glanced back at her. He whispered, “Check it out?”

  Allison nodded. Her phone beeped. She looked at it, shielding the light in case it could give them away. Jason, wanting to know if she was okay. She texted back, asking him to track down Balzan. “Tell him his men are missing,” she wrote. “Trouble in the castle spa. And a forest fire.”

  She turned off the phone before he could respond.

  Vaughn took her hand. “Come on.”

  The spa’s front door was locked.

  “I know another way in,” Allison said. “Around the side.”

  She led Vaughn to a door by the spa’s laundry room. Only this one was also locked.

  “Darn,” Allison said. She remembered their foray into Karina’s room earlier. “Do you still have the keys?”

  “Oh, man, I completely forgot. I do.”

  Vaughn fished them out of his pocket, then he started testing each key. The ninth one worked. Quietly, he opened the door. Immediately they could hear voices.

  “I’m not a damn alien, Sam,” Karina was saying. “I just made that up. Come on, snap out of it. I want you lucid when the bullet comes.”

  “You don’t have the guts to shoot us,” another voice said. Allison recognized Douglas’s snivel. “This is becoming bloody ridiculous.”

  “Yes, well, I am sorry if I can’t suitably entertain you the way my father’s struggles to prove that stupid theory entertained you over the years.”

  There was momentary silence. Douglas said, “We gave him what he asked for.”

  “You gave him money because it was amusing to you. You watched as his career deteriorated. As his wife left him. As he became a laughing stock in the world of academia he had loved so much.” Karina’s voice inched higher in pitch. “Still you gave him more. Even after he killed himself, you didn’t reach out to my family. You didn’t accept what you did.”

  “We did nothing. He was an adult. He wanted the money, we provided it.” Douglas paused. “My wife did nothing. If this is some crazy vendetta against us, why kill Shirin?”

  “She was an unfortunate accident, and she knew too much. I sent you a note from Lara, told you where to meet, but it was intercepted by Shirin. She was angry, went there presumably to confront your lover.” At the mention of the word “lover,” Douglas flinched. “Shirin was a casualty of your selfishness.”

  “You bitch.” His tone changed from petulant to groveling. “Please. We can make it up to you. We didn’t mean for your father to get hurt—”

  “I will no longer discuss this with you.”

  Allison moved closer. She saw the flash of metal in Karina’s hand. She saw that hand go up. She saw Douglas’s mouth form an “o.”

  Allison’s outstretched fingers counted down. Three, two, one. “Now,” she mouthed. Allison raised her flashlight. They moved forward.

  Lightning flashed. Sam saw them. He screamed.

  Karina turned. Allison and Vaughn rushed forward. Allison swung. The heavy metal of the flashlight connected with Karina’s shoulder, knocking Karina down. Karina still held the gun. She raised it again.

  The gun went off as Allison’s flashlight connected with bone. Vaughn tackled Karina, pinned her to the floor. Allison dove to the floor, avoiding the bullet that grazed the shelf above her head. Behind them, a wall of windows shattered. Sirens blared in the distance.

  “They’re coming,” Sam moaned. “They’re coming.”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  The storms of the past few days had passed, and with clearer skies came better views. Mia and Vaughn had left Italy, anxious to head back to the States and whatever awaited them there. Allison and Jason decided to spend a few more days in Italy, only they would get far from Bidero and Castle San Pietro. Jason spoke of Sesto, northeast of where they were, and he’d booked a family apartment at a child-friendly resort—one with goats.

  As they headed down the mountain and toward the village, they stopped at a small store to pick up pastries and coffee for the trip. There, they came upon Lara and Jeremy. They, too, appeared to be leaving town.

  Lara smiled when she saw Jason. She kissed both of his cheeks, European-style, and stepped back. She patted her abdomen and grinned. “A small consolation for all that has happened, don’t you think?” She grabbed Jeremy’s hand and made a show of squeezing it.

  She was so thin that Allison could already make out the tiny baby bump through her white sundress. Douglas’s baby—perhaps. With Lara and Jeremy, who knew?

  Jason’s face tightened. He shook Jeremy’s hand and congratulated the couple. Lara’s eyes sought a connection, but Jason turned away. He headed back to the car without ever entering the store. Allison let him go.

  “Think he knows?” Jason said later. They were nestled under a light blan
ket in the small apartment in Sesto. Jason’s body cradled her own, and Allison snuggled in tighter, enjoying his warmth. Warm weather had returned to South Tyrol, but this evening was pleasantly cool. Grace was asleep in the next room, and Allison took comfort in the sound of her light snoring.

  “Does it matter?” Allison asked.

  “Not really.” Jason nudged Allison with his hips. Gently, he traced a line down the curve of her hip with one finger. “Interested?” he whispered.

  “Always.”

  “We’d have to be quiet.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “I love that kid, you know.”

  Allison smiled. “Me too.”

  “I know a good lawyer. Or two. I think we can petition for full custody of Grace.”

  Allison turned over. “Really? Can we do that? Can we try?”

  Jason nodded. “Amy can fight it. If they can find her. And if she has the energy.”

  “And if she returns?”

  Jason pressed his fingers to Allison’s lips. “We’ll deal with that if it happens. In the meantime, we’ll be a family.”

  It was their last full day in Italy. They awoke to a hazy morning. The forecasters called for storms late in the day, so they packed a backpack and headed up the gondola lift from Bagni di Moso to the Prati di Croda Rossa. From their perch in the lift, they watched as the valley fell away below them.

  At the top, they followed a series of trails that led past a rifugio and looped around a rocky precipice. They stopped to take in a view of the expansive valley and the rugged Dolomite peaks in the distance. Behind them, the forest spread out along the ridge, thick with Scots’ pine, mountain ash, and birch trees. Below the cliffs, cows meandered in the wildflower-strewn fields under the lifts, seasonal guests on what would be ski slopes in the winter months. A castle rose in the distance, and a small chapel stood proudly nearby. Overhead, the sun was battling a few remaining clouds. It looked like a brighter day would prevail.

  Allison’s mind wandered to another set of peaks, another castle, miles away. Karina, née Johanna, had been arrested. Like Hilda, Dominic had been tied up, hidden away in Mia’s empty cottage. The two police officers fared worse, with bullet wounds to the knee caps to incapacitate them. She’d meant to finish off the Pay It Forward foundation and destroy the castle property with fire—a forest fire deliberately set by her high up in the hills, giving her time to escape—or fake her own death. She’d killed Damien and Michael, and she’d have finished with Sam and Douglas—and, eventually, Jeremy—had her plan not been thwarted. The depths of Karina’s anger had known no real bounds. She felt the foundation stole everything from her and her father, and she believed retribution was justified. Allison had seen the quiet insanity of a zealot in Karina’s eyes that fateful night. She marveled at her client, who had lived with Karina for so long. To have such hatred masked within one’s home…unthinkable.

  Allison wondered what Elle was doing now, and whether she’d find the path in life she was looking for. Her personal plan had been simple. Fund a charity for children in Damien’s name. Use the castle as a retreat for kids. Do something positive in the world. Allison had donated her fee to Elle’s charity, wishing her the best. So much pain there, so much wasted time. But there was hope for Elle. Allison was certain of it.

  And then there was Sam, who was back in the States getting the help he needed—for now. Soon he would be back in Italy alongside Dominic and Hilda and the staff that had served him loyally. Allison thought they would have wanted to leave. It seemed the castle’s call—or the fee Sam was paying—was too hard to ignore.

  Allison thought about the nonprofit, and the way the good it intended was twisted into something else. Pay It Forward would continue, only without Douglas. Jeremy and Sam were rethinking how the charity would be run going forward. It seemed their run-in with rage had convinced them that playing the part of God had its price. They needed a new way to vet requests—and perhaps some new blood on the board. Including Elle.

  Grace pulled on Allison’s hand, bringing her back to the present. Grace pointed to the cows and squealed. “Can we get closer?” she asked.

  Allison eyed the trail down the mountain. It followed the curve of the hills and ran parallel to the cows’ pasture.

  “Sure,” she said.

  Jason kissed the top of Allison’s head. “Mia said we can get married at the farm next month, but I have another idea.” He kissed her again. “Will you marry me, Allison Campbell?”

  “You know I will.”

  “How about now?”

  “You mean now as in today?” When he nodded, Allison looked up at him, incredulous. “You’re serious?”

  He pointed to the chapel. “We have the paperwork we need, right?”

  Allison nodded.

  “Want to give it a try?”

  A cloud floated across the face of the sun, casting a shadow over the trail. Allison watched a bird soar overhead, swooping close to the ground. It flew back toward the horizon, its wings gliding along, its body melding into the deepening shadows. It made flying look so easy.

  “Let’s do it,” Allison said.

  Jason grinned. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “After we see the cows,” Grace said. “Please?”

  “That settles it.” Jason picked up Grace and sprinted along the trail. “Come on, Al. Let’s go visit the cows.”

  About the Author

  Wendy Tyson’s background in law and psychology has provided inspiration for her mysteries and thrillers. Originally from the Philadelphia area, Wendy has returned to her roots and lives there again on a micro-farm with her husband, three sons and three dogs. Wendy’s short fiction has appeared in literary journals, and she’s a contributing editor and columnist for The Big Thrill and The Thrill Begins, International Thriller Writers’ online magazines. Wendy is the author of the Allison Campbell Mystery Series and the Greenhouse Mystery Series.

  Books in the Allison Campbell Mystery Series

  by Wendy Tyson

  KILLER IMAGE (#1)

  DEADLY ASSETS (#2)

  DYING BRAND (#3)

  FATAL FACADE (#4)

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