Allison Campbell Mystery Series Boxed Set: Books 1-4

by Wendy Tyson

  “So Dom, huh?” Allison thought about recent circumstances, how this could have gone down. “He’s in bed with the Mob?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “So you think the Gretchko family took Francesca? And killed Maria?”

  “We think so.”

  “Do you have information on the Gretchko family members yet?”

  “Jamie and I are working on it. When we come up with some, we’ll email it to you.”

  Allison told Vaughn about the key she’d found hidden in Francesca’s underwear.

  “You can pursue that, Allison, but I think it’s another dead end. If the Russians have Francesca, we won’t find her. That’s a job for professionals.” He hesitated. “I really think you should come home.”

  But Allison wasn’t listening. Something else was bothering her. “Vaughn, if the Mob took Francesca, who’s been following us?”

  “The Benini family?”

  “They’ve been here. And anyway, why would they follow us?”

  “Maybe they think we took her.”

  “I don’t believe that.” She paused, making connections in her mind. “What if the family kidnapped her, as we originally thought? And the Gretchkos are following us because they think we have her. If that’s the case, you and Mia could be the ones in danger.”

  Vaughn remained silent. Allison stretched on the bed, feeling the tug on tight, unused muscles. “And what about the connection to Tammy? Even if the Gretchko family is involved with Benini, how did we end up with Tammy and Francesca? Something’s missing.”

  “What are you going to do next?”

  “Talk to Simone, figure out what the hell this key is for.” Allison opened the laptop. “And I think I may know a way to locate Tammy.” She told him about the metadata.

  “You want to pinpoint Tammy’s location based on the Facebook page photos? That won’t work. Facebook erases the metadata. The location coordinates won’t be there.”

  “I did some reading on it, Vaughn. You may know more, but some social media sites don’t erase the metadata. Try some of the newer sites. Maybe Kai will have an account. And if Jamie can scour the Net for more pictures, maybe he can start to home in on Kai and Tammy’s hangouts.”

  “Create a scatterplot map?”

  “Exactly. With the right picture posted to the right site, he can get the coordinates of the places they frequent. From what I saw on Kai’s Facebook, there aren’t many. Maybe one will be the place where Tammy is hiding.”

  “Find the coordinates, plug them into Google Maps, and find the kids. Simple enough.” Vaughn gave a strained laugh. “We’ll give it a try. But then what? If we can locate Kai’s hangout, or even get something close, what do you want me to do? We do have paying clients, Allison. I can’t hold them off forever.”

  Allison took a quick look in the mirror. Her hair had air dried and was flat and lifeless. She wore no makeup. And her shirt was wrinkled.

  She picked up her purse and said into the phone, “One more day, Vaughn. That’s all I need.”

  On the way to the Benini estate, Allison called Jason. He answered on the first ring.

  “I won’t even tell you how worried I’ve been.”

  “I miss you,” Allison said. “I know this is hard for you. Letting me do what I need to do, coming here. But I want you to know...I appreciate it. And I love you the more for it.”

  “Yeah, well—”

  “Yeah, well, what?”

  “This patience won’t last forever.”

  Allison’s stomach knotted. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing, Al. I know you’ve been keeping me in the dark because you’re worried I’ll try and talk you out of whatever cockamamie plan you have up your sleeve. If this is what you feel you need to do, fine. But let me help you.”

  Allison pulled to the shoulder near the Benini home. Out of habit now, she glanced behind her, looking for a tail, but the road was empty. It was nearly eight, and she wanted to be mentally prepared before she drove up the long driveway that led to the estate. But even more, she wanted to give Jason her full attention. This trip had made her realize how much she cared for him. And how badly she did want him. But on terms they both could live with.

  “Truce? We table all of this until I’m home and we can talk face-to-face?”

  Jason didn’t speak for a moment, and Allison found herself counting the seconds. Finally, he said, “Truce. But I’m going to hold you to that.”

  “You’re a lawyer. I’d expect nothing less.”

  He laughed. The sound was sunlight. “Tell me what’s happening.”

  Allison relayed bits of what she, Mia, Vaughn, and Jamie had learned over the last few days, ending with their theory about the connection between Benini Enterprises and the Russian Mob.

  “Why the Russian Mob? Why not the Italian Mob? Not to stereotype, Allison, but they are from Calabria.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been wondering that myself. The only thing I can think of is supply and demand. The Gretchko family needs to keep their collective noses clean, and they have a demand for cheap land and a legit company that can help them launder money. Benini is going under. That’s no secret. The Beninis have a need for cash, but what they have is a legit business and vast amounts of acreage in Italy and developing countries in the Balkans.” She paused, thinking. “I wish I knew who did the matchmaking.”

  Jason was quiet for a moment. “If it is the Russian Mob you’re dealing with, Al, you can’t handle that alone. You’ll end up in the bottom of a river somewhere.” His voice got tight.

  “Despite what Vaughn and Jamie think, I don’t believe the Mob took Francesca. A deal with the Mob may be the motivating force, but kidnapping without ransom doesn’t seem their style. They’d just kill outright, dump the body.”

  “Then what do you think’s going on with Francesca?”

  “I have a hunch it’s a family affair, rooted in the past. And this creepy Benini mansion.” She looked out the window at the house looming on the hill. “I think the answers lie here.”

  “I assume that’s where you are now?”

  Overhead, dark clouds gathered, portending more storms. Allison studied the woods that hid the Benini property from view. A dark, tangled mass of vegetation, full of shadows. Funny how it could look beautiful one day, ominous the next. And today, with the darkened sky and the tasks ahead, those woods looked downright menacing.

  “Yes, I’m here. I have a flight home at seven tonight. I’ll call you before then.”

  “You’d better, Allison. If I don’t hear from you by tonight, I’m going to come looking.”

  Allison’s rental car, a blue Ford, stumbled its way up the Benini driveway. A tomb of gloom enveloped the vehicle, a thick blanket of mist left over from the awakening day, trapped by the canopy of trees overhead. Allison patted her purse and, in it, the Swiss Army Knife she’d tucked within its depths. She hoped that Simone would be awake, alone—and willing to talk.

  The mixture of gravel and chipped pavement under her tires felt bumpy and coarse, the headlights a weak foe against the fog. Simone’s Land Rover was parked in the circle, a few feet from the door. Allison climbed out of her car, remembering the first time she stepped foot on this property, only two weeks ago. A lot could happen in such a short time.

  Shoring her shoulders, she rang the bell. It was Jackie who answered. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her normally rigid shoulders, stooped.

  “Is Simone available?”

  Jackie ushered Allison inside. She made her wait in the central hall while she fetched Simone, which only took a few minutes.

  In contrast to her employee, Simone was impeccably dressed in a black suit, black veil, black pumps. The grieving mother? Or playing a part? Allison wondered. It was hard to decipher the difference anymore.

  “Allison, please come in.�
� To Jackie, Simone said, “Two hot teas, please.”

  Allison followed Simone into the sun porch, the room in which Allison had first met with Francesca. She took the seat she’d occupied before and watched Simone perch on a chair with a line of sight to the barn.

  “They’ll miss her, you know.” She turned to Allison. “The horses. She loved them, but oh, how they adored my Maria.”

  “I am so sorry for your loss, Simone.”

  Simone nodded, dabbed at her eyes with a lace hanky. “She was a wild child from the beginning. Smart. Oppositional. She didn’t deserve to go this way, though.” Another dab, another long glance outside. Allison could feel the pain washing off Simone in waves. While she might be playing a role, there was sincere emotion at her core, and it tugged at Allison. She understood loss.

  “Do you believe it was an accident?”

  Simone shook her head slowly, back and forth. “No, I don’t. Maria was too smart for that, too good with machines. But the police seem convinced.” She rubbed her hands together, clearly agitated. “I hate that this happened. Everything’s changed.” Simone flipped up her veil, revealing features contorted by rage. “With their constant bickering, and their insistence...their insistence on...” Like that, the rage dissolved into grief and Simone broke down into sobs.

  Confused by the shift in topic, Allison said, “Who is ‘them?’ Dom and Alex?”

  She nodded. “They gave Paolo that stroke.”

  “How did they do that?”

  “More arguing, fighting. The business.” Her words were slurred and choppy. “I hate them.”

  “Simone, this is important. Did you see either of them at the plant the day Maria was killed?”

  She looked at Allison with horror. “How did you know I was there?”

  Because you’re having an affair with the plant manager, Allison thought. Instead she said, “It doesn’t matter. Did you see your stepsons?”

  Simone buried her head in her hands. “No.”

  “Did you see anyone?”

  Simone was quiet for so long that Allison thought she’d lost her. Finally, she whispered, “Just that man. Dom’s friend.”

  “Reginald Burr?”

  Simone looked up briefly, eyes watery pools, face streaked red. “Him. He must have been meeting with someone. I saw him leaving the parking lot.”

  Jackie never came with the tea, which was just fine. Allison left the grieving Simone and headed through the labyrinth, to the Alice in Wonderland door and up to the library. There, the air was still, the books silent witnesses to years of family secrets. If only you could talk, Allison thought.

  She scanned the room, searching for anything that might fit the key. But she came up empty.

  She turned, disappointed, ready to head back downstairs, when she spied the large Bible, still on its resting spot where Francesca had left it just two weeks ago.

  Gingerly, Allison lifted the book, feeling the worn pages that had given Francesca comfort.

  Comfort? Or penance? And that’s when she saw the inscription. To Frannie. Blessings, Jackie.

  Her next stop became clear. She sprinted for the steps and headed down to the kitchen.

  She found the cook there, sitting on a stool, looking out the window.

  Without turning, Jackie said, “She wasn’t a monster, you know. Neither was Paolo. They’re the ones who should still be alive.”

  “I’m sorry, Jackie. I can see you’re upset.”

  The woman wiped her hands on her white apron and stood. “What do you need?”

  Allison held out the key she’d found in Francesca’s underwear. “Where can I find the receptacle that fits this key.”

  Jackie touched her neck, looked away. “I’m sure I don’t know.”

  “And I’m sure you do.” Allison moved so that she was in front of Jackie, but the cook turned again, avoiding eye contact. “Look, Francesca’s life’s in danger. You don’t want her to end up like Maria.”

  Silence.

  “Jackie, this key was in a bag that Francesca was bringing to me. She told me she had things to share, secrets about her past and the family. Please, I am truly begging you. If you care for your friend, and I know you were her confidante and possibly her only friend, tell me.”

  Jackie turned, looked at Allison, eyes wide and liquid.

  “Alex mentioned that you used to cook together, that Francesca learned from you. You told me yourself that she was the only one who took the time to come down here, to chat. And Francesca never left this house. Who else would she have trusted with secrets, things she may have even hid from Paolo?”

  Jackie stood, motionless. Finally, with a sad shake of her head, she said, “Francesca wanted to protect Paolo. Once she found out what Dom and Alex were up to, she tried to keep it from her brother. She loved him. But—”

  “But what?”

  Jackie swallowed.

  “But they cornered him,” she said. “Pushed for him to sign papers, first relinquishing control of the company, then going along with their scheme. He refused, they pushed more.” Full blown tears now, streaming like raging creeks down her face. “And he had the stroke.”

  Allison lowered her voice. “They were selling parts of Benini Enterprises to the Russian Mob, weren’t they? Until Paolo and Francesca found out.”

  It was barely a nod, but Allison caught it. Jackie moaned, a long soft moan that spoke of bottled up secrets and the cancer of hate. “He built this business on honor, despite...well, he did his best. Francesca, too. And they sold his honor. For what?”

  “Did they kill him?”

  “Dom and Alex?” Jackie looked horror-stricken at the thought. “I hope not.”

  Allison pictured Reginald Burr’s name on the hospital registry. It would have been so easy to smother a comatose man, delay the alarms connected to the monitors, slip in and out of his room dressed like a hospital employee. It could have been Burr. It could have been one of the sons. If it happened at all. They may never know for sure.

  “Jackie, what does all this have to do with Gina?”

  “I don’t know.” Eyes wide, she said, “I really don’t. There were some secrets Francesca wouldn’t share, even with me.”

  “Tell me what the key is for.”

  Jackie glanced around the kitchen. She seemed to be thinking, weighing. Finally, she pulled off her apron and threw it down on the counter. “I can’t leave. But I’ll write you directions.”

  Vaughn and Jamie sat, staring at the computer monitor in Jamie’s room, in stunned silence.

  Jamie said: ARE YOU SURE?

  Vaughn nodded, sweat soaking his t-shirt, heart thumping at his ribcage. There was no way he could get to Ithaca before Allison had to leave for her flight. But they needed to get this information to her as soon as possible. She needed to know.

  THIS ALL MAKES SENSE NOW.

  “Yeah, I knew something was up with both of them.”

  They were looking at pictures of the Gretchko family.

  It had taken Jamie an hour to find a good shot of Andrei Gretchko’s daughter. But there she was, Denise Gretchko Carr. Tammy’s manager. Mob boss’s kid.

  It had taken Jamie five hours to find a picture of Andrei Gretchko, and he’d finally had to get Jason’s help. The guy was damn good at avoiding the media.

  But he couldn’t avoid his mug shot photo.

  Andrei Gretchko. Reginald Burr.

  “No wonder we couldn’t find anything on Burr.”

  SO THE GRETCHKOS HAVE BEEN BESIDE THE BENINIS THE WHOLE TIME. IN PLAIN SIGHT.

  “Denise called me after we started the engagement with Francesca. She knew. And she was using Allison to get to Francesca.” Vaughn’s mind spun with the implications. “The Gretchkos went through either Tony Edwards or Kai. Somehow they knew about Tammy and her burgeoning musical career. They
used Tammy to get access to Francesca.”

  BUT SOMEONE THWARTED THEM.

  “You think Allison’s right? That Dom or Alex has Francesca, not the Gretchkos?”

  I DO NOW. THINK ABOUT IT. IF THE GRETCHKOS WANTED BENINI, AND PAOLO BALKED, THEN HAD A STROKE, THEY WOULD NEED FRANCESCA’S COOPERATION. THEY FOUND OUT THROUGH DOM OR ALEX THAT SHE’D BEEN DOWN HERE. THEY NEEDED HER OUT OF THAT HOUSE. AND OUT OF THE WAY.

  “So they arrange for a second client, Tammy Edwards. Denise has an excuse to be here, to snoop, to ask questions.” Suddenly nauseous, Vaughn said, “And a way to kill her.” He let that sink in.

  RIGHT. ONLY FRANCESCA NEVER MAKES IT DOWN HERE.

  “Because someone else placed that tracker on my car. Followed me. Took Francesca.”

  BUT DID THEY TAKE HER TO SAFETY...OR DID THEY WANT TO GET TO HER FIRST?

  Allison listened to Vaughn’s information with a heavy heart. She’d just left the post office with a manila envelope of materials from Francesca’s post office box, and she was anxious to go through them. But when Vaughn told her about Denise, she had to pull over.

  “There’s only one way Denise knew about me, knew to connect me and Tammy.”

  Vaughn had the sense to stay quiet.

  “Alex,” she continued. “She must have been his manager. He was using me from the start.”

  “I’m sorry, Allison. You don’t know that for certain.”

  “I’m pretty sure, Vaughn. Think about it. How would the Gretchkos and Beninis have connected in the first place? I suppose the Gretchkos could have approached Benini Enterprises, but why that company? No, I thought from the beginning that this was more personal than that. I think Alex and Denise knew each other. That’s what started the corporate courtship.”

  “And he and Denise used Tammy to get to you. To Francesca.”

  Allison started to nod before realizing he couldn’t see her. “Poor Tammy. She must have figured it out, been frightened. Did Jamie have any luck pinpointing the location of that picture?”