by Wendy Tyson
Allison pulled a light cotton blanket over the snoozing duo. She returned to the kitchen to find Jason and Vaughn staring at their respective computers.
“So that’s it?” Jason looked up, catching Vaughn’s eye. “Shirin’s family forced the marriage?”
“I don’t think it was that straightforward. I haven’t read through everything, but it sounds like Shirin’s parents were friendly with Douglas’s family. The Aldens are considered aristocracy in the UK. A marriage to Douglas was a social step up.” Vaughn took off his reading glasses and placed them on the counter by his computer. He rubbed his eyes. “The charges against Douglas came long after Shirin’s friendship—if you can call it that—with the businessman started. It doesn’t sound like she or her family gave the charges much credence.”
“That’s what I’m reading,” Jason agreed. “They thought it was some kinky sex thing gone wrong. Or that he was innocent altogether. That he was being punished by the media and the courts because of his elevated station in life.”
Allison tried to catch up. She scrolled through the news clips and bullet points Jamie had sent. “An entitled sociopath,” she murmured. “But what explains his entrée on the Pay It Forward board?”
“This.” Vaughn pointed to his computer.
Allison read a press release from Pay It Forward dated five years ago over Vaughn’s shoulder. “Ah, so the family added funds to the trust.”
“Yes. Apparently Douglas’s father has been interested in seeing more space and technology inventions. He donated a rather large sum of money so that the foundation could support innovators in this area.”
“And let me guess,” Jason said. “There were strings attached.”
Vaughn sighed. “If one reads between the lines.”
“The press release announces the donation and says that Douglas Alden will join the board. It doesn’t mention that one is a condition of the other.”
“But one can surmise.” Jason shook his head. “Wow. So Shirin’s family encourages her courtship with Douglas to better their social rank, and in turn the Alden family gets a connection to Pay It Forward and a spot on the board—for a price.”
“What’s with the Alden family’s interest in space and technology?” Allison asked.
“That I don’t know. But it’s something they and Sam Norton have in common.” Vaughn glanced at Allison over his readers. “An interest in extraterrestrials.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Allison walked back to her own stool and laptop. “Do we know if the foundation has given away much money for the cause?”
“Jamie is researching that. So far he’s concentrated on what they’ve made public through announcements, interviews and the like. He’ll get the public records. More to come, hopefully.”
Allison pulled her hair back, away from her face. Something about this bothered her, had bothered her from the day Elle requested her help. “Let’s assume for a moment that Douglas did kill Shirin, that he wanted his wife out of the picture so he could be with his lover and be free of her family. I could believe that it was a copycat incident. Douglas designed her death to look like Damien’s fall. What about Damien?”
“What about him?” Vaughn said. “Maybe his death really was an accident.”
Allison stood, paced the length of the room. “Possibly. The police certainly felt his death was accidental. Only Elle never believed that to be the case. If she’s right—a big if—what would be the connection between Shirin and Damien?”
“They’re cousins,” Vaughn said.
“So what?” Allison considered what they knew about the players, about who had been at the castle when Damien died. Douglas. And Michael. All of them really. “This is a family vendetta?”
“The foundation,” Jason said. “Damien was on the board. Shirin’s husband was too.”
They looked at each other. Allison thought they’d reached the same conclusion at the same time.
“What if they had the wrong person?” Vaughn asked, giving voice to Allison’s thought.
“The setup—a rope dangling over the edge of a precipice—doesn’t allow for much in the way of visibility.” Jason shut his computer, his voice rising as he spoke. “The killer could have expected someone else to come by along that path.”
Vaughn said, “Someone with a connection to the foundation?”
Allison’s heart thumped in her ribcage. “Or Elle. She could have been the target.”
Silence enshrouded the room. Finally Allison said, “I think we need to know if Douglas did it. If he did, if it was marital rage, then we don’t need to go down that path.”
Jason said, “But no one really seems to know the Aldens that well.”
“I know someone who knows Douglas. I think I’ll start with her.”
TWENTY-SIX
Nightfall came late during summertime in Bidero, although the overcast skies lingered well into the evening, lending a gloomy cast to the otherworldly setting. After helping Vaughn move his things into his rooms inside the castle, Allison went in search of Lara. She found her alone in the spa.
Lara was dressing in the main room, her shoulders still red from the heat of the sauna. Allison watched her for a moment before going inside. The pool decks were rain-soaked, the surrounding meadows awash with rivulets of water. Standing at the threshold of the glass-enclosed spa with the doors open, Allison could hear the low roar of the swelling river just beyond the hills. The sound lent her courage.
Allison let the door shut. Lara turned slowly. She wore a long-sleeved sheath dress and flat gladiator sandals. Her trademark hair was pulled into a loose bun, and her skin looked lightly freckled without the makeup that normally covered it. She looked young and arrogant and untouchable, and in that moment, Allison despised everything Lara stood for.
“Did you come to tell me the police have questioned you about my dalliance with Douglas?”
“No.”
Lara studied Allison before pursing her lips into a smile. “What then?”
“Is that what you would call it? A ‘dalliance’?”
Lara shrugged. “Not much more, I’d say.”
“Folks around here say you’ve been having an affair for some time.”
“‘Folks.’ How quaint.” Lara walked toward the tea kiosk and poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the counter. “It was sex. Just sex.”
“How well do you know Douglas, Lara?” Allison fought to keep her tone casual. “Were you friends first?”
Lara laughed. “Hardly.” She watched Allison as though debating how much to tell her. Allison hoped Lara’s narcissism would win out and she’d share simply to talk about herself.
“How did it start?”
“Is this so you can tell that inspector?”
“No. I’m just curious.”
Lara put the water glass aside without drinking. “If you must know, it was just chemistry. I saw him undressing me with his stare one night at dinner last fall. Our eyes met. We shared a cigarette outside, and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“So that’s all he is to you? A fling?”
“Yes. And that’s all he was. It’s over.”
Allison absorbed this. “Do you think Douglas loved his wife?”
“How would I know?”
“Did he resent her? Want a divorce?”
“Clearly she didn’t turn him on. He was sleeping with me, maybe others.”
“Did you only see him while here in Bidero?”
Lara busied herself by gathering her belongings. She shoved a pair of delicate sandals into a beach bag along with a bikini and a sheer cover-up, both of which were dry.
“Occasionally we would meet in London when I was there on business. Or if he came to the States to meet for the foundation, we’d find a few hours.” Lara shrugged. “Do you
get off on these details? Do you want to know exactly what we did, how we did it?” She scrutinized Allison with a piercing look. “Or maybe you are recording this now to share with my husband.”
“Hardly,” Allison said, echoing Lara’s earlier words. “I have to imagine the Italian police are looking at Douglas as a suspect in Shirin’s death. And by extension, you as well.” Allison felt a faint wave of pleasure at the fear that flashed across Lara’s face. Perhaps she was not so untouchable after all.
Allison dug the knife in deeper. “You were—are?—lovers. What if you killed Shirin in a jealous rage?”
“I would never—”
“What if you helped him, then? What if you were merely a willing accomplice after the fact, too afraid to come forward for fear your precious Jeremy would find out.”
“Leave Jeremy out of it.”
“Why, Lara? Did you leave him out of it when you decided to bed another man?”
Lara threw her bag down on the floor. “What do you want?”
“Just the truth.”
“The truth about what?”
“Douglas’s feelings about Shirin. Lovers talk, men share their feelings about their wives. Was Douglas looking to get out of his marriage?”
Lara’s face was a portrait of rage. She bunched her fingers into a fist, and then sagged down on a bench, all of her anger dissipating like air in a popped balloon. “Douglas would not leave Shirin. I would not leave Jeremy. That was our agreement.”
“You were just having fun?”
Lara glanced down at her flat abdomen. It was a subtle gesture, but it spoke volumes about her intentions.
“You’ve been trying to get pregnant.”
Lara took a moment to respond. Finally in a quieter voice, she said, “I’m not sure Jeremy can…well, you understand. It was easier this way. Douglas didn’t want kids. Jeremy doesn’t know I’ve been off the pill for years. Douglas and I had fun together. I thought…if it happens, what does it matter?”
“Which is why you didn’t want it rubbed in your husband’s face.” When Lara didn’t respond, Allison said, “But what did Douglas get out of this?”
Lara’s mood brightened. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“Not really.”
“Me, of course. That boy is a trophy hunter. He always wants the next big thing, the next conquest. What better challenge than a supermodel, especially a supermodel married to your friend’s best friend.”
“Who just happens to be a movie director and producer.”
“Now you see.” Clearly Lara was on firmer footing here, in a land of dubious morals and image-driven choices. “Douglas never wanted to leave Shirin. He would have been content bedding me for a while, then moving on. He would have ended the affair. He has a bit of a sense of humor, and leaving a supermodel in a lurch would tickle that fancy.”
Lara pulled a phone from her bag and glanced at it. “Jeremy is expecting me. I have to go.”
Allison said, “Do you think Douglas hurt his wife?”
Lara rose from the bench. She strode toward the spa door but stopped before leaving. “Douglas is a cool cat. He doesn’t get emotional, and he doesn’t act impulsively. I don’t think he would risk everything to hurt Shirin, even if she lashed out at him.”
“Did you know he was accused of rape and manslaughter? Of a former girlfriend.”
Lara seemed to take this in. She rubbed her belly absently with one hand while the other reached for the door handle. “Boys will be boys. It’s always good to remember that.”
“A woman died—now two women—and that’s all you can say?”
Lara smiled, but it was condescension, not joy, on her face. “Douglas was good to me. Now it has to be over. That is the stuff of the world. What Douglas Alden did or did not do in a prior life is of no concern to me.”
“Aren’t you worried there’s a killer in our midst?”
Lara’s well-groomed brows shot up. “What makes you think there is only one?”
“It’s like staying in Sodom or Gomorrah,” Mia said, echoing Allison’s thoughts just a few short weeks ago. They’d just put Grace to bed and Mia, Jason, and Allison were sitting around the cottage living room, waiting out another storm. Vaughn was in the castle, instant messaging with Jamie. He’d used fatigue as an excuse for not joining them, but Allison thought it had more to do with Mia. And perhaps Karina, who’d spent much of dinner staring at their new guest.
“They are quite a bunch,” Allison said. The cavalier way in which Lara discussed Douglas’s transgressions, and her own infidelity, still weighed on her. And then there was Jeremy. Concerned friend to Sam? Unfaithful womanizer? Talented producer? It was hard to pin down Jeremy Kahn. Elle was surrounded by these people—no wonder she seemed so lost. But it was a chicken and egg situation: did like beget like? Was Elle as self-centered and amoral as her compatriots?
“I’d rather you stay here tonight,” Jason was saying to Mia. “You can sleep with Grace. There’s plenty of room.”
Mia nodded. She was wearing a soft plum wrap around her shoulders, and she pulled it tighter against the chill. Despite the season, the storms had brought cooler air, and the cottage felt damp and cold. “You leave tomorrow, Jason?”
“I do, unfortunately. There is a weekend retreat outside of Innsbruck, and then I have trainings and meetings all of next week. I can return to the States after that.”
Mia stayed silent, but her eyes appraised her son. “Is this really what you want? To return to corporate life?”
Allison felt herself tense. Mia didn’t know about Jason’s fertility issues, nor, for that matter, did she know they’d been trying to conceive. The happenings at the castle, while bizarre and frightening, had served to distract Jason from his own imagined shortcomings. Allison was loathe to reopen those wounds.
But Mia would not let it go. “You’ll be working long hours, traveling. You’re about to get married. Is that the life you want?”
Allison stood. In times of stress, she gravitated toward food—a habit she’d been fighting for most of her life with mixed results—and she headed toward the fresh baguettes and goat cheese Dominic had dropped off earlier. She poured herself a glass of wine, trying hard not to intervene between son and mother.
“It’s what I want.” Jason’s voice was steely. “Allison is on board.”
Mia’s head swung in Allison’s direction. She frowned when she saw her former mentee wolfing down chunks of bread. “Really, Allison? It’s not like money should be an issue.”
“I want Jason to do what makes him happy,” Allison said between gulps. She was swallowing her old feelings of shame along with the bread, and she hated herself for it.
“I think it’s a mistake. It’s your life, Jason, but I’m still your mother. Two much stress can wreak havoc on a marriage. Look what happened with your father—”
At the mention of his father, Jason’s face turned the color of a ripe tomato. His father had been a successful businessman whose alcohol habit was staunchly ignored by all—including Mia—for years, until the night he insisted on driving Jason’s sister home after a party and crashed the car, resulting in her death. Mia had left him, a bitter divorce ensued, and Mia completely changed her lifestyle. This included selling her image consulting business to Allison. Those had been horrid times, and Jason, forever loyal to Mia, despised his father. He hated any comparison to his father, no matter how removed. Surely Mia knew that.
Jason said, “Please, stop.”
Mia sat back, shook her head. “I just think you’re making a mistake.”
Allison put down the loaf of bread and tossed the piece she was holding into the garbage. She glanced at Jason, who caught her eye and nodded.
“We can’t have kids, Mia,” Allison said softly. “We’ve tried.”
Mia’s eyes widened, first in surprise and then with concer
n.
“Have you gone to see a—”
Jason was about to reply and Allison held up her hand. “Yes. Several. And the answer is no. It’s not likely in the cards for us.” She walked to Jason and placed her hand on his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry.” Mia turned her attention to Jason. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just…I know how much you want a baby.” Looking back at Allison, Mia said, “You know, there is in vitro if—”
“Dammit, Mom. It’s not Allison. It’s me. I can’t have children. Okay? Are you happy now? Yes, I’m probably taking this job to compensate. Yes, I’m having a hard time with this. Is that what you need to hear?” He flicked Allison’s hand off his shoulder and stood. “I don’t need your concern. We don’t need your concern.” He closed his eyes, then reopened them, aiming that shrewd stare at his mother. “And I really don’t need your pity.”
The two women watched as Jason slammed the front door and headed out into the stormy night. For the next minute, the only sound in the cottage was Grace in her bedroom, watching a “Dora” cartoon on her iPad, and the relentless rain pinging off the roof.
“I guess I really stepped in it this time,” Mia said finally. “I’m really, really sorry. I had no idea.”
Allison sank into the chair that Jason had vacated. Her eyes stung, her voice felt caught in her throat. She looked out the window, wondering where Jason had gone in this weather. He needed his space. She’d give it to him.
“It’s okay, Mia. We thought maybe this trip would help.” Allison laughed, and the resultant screech sounded irrational, even to her. “What a mess that turned out to be.”
Mia didn’t respond. She chewed on her bottom lip while her fingers tapped along the edge of the couch. “Have you considered a sperm donor?”
“Not really.”
“Would you be open to that?”
Allison contemplated the question. She wanted a child, but she wanted a child with Jason. There was nothing wrong with using donor sperm, but she wasn’t sure it was what Jason really wanted.
“I don’t think so.” Allison didn’t want to talk about this anymore. She felt disloyal, and the topic was painful, especially because of the toll it was taking on Jason.