by Wendy Tyson
Mia, seeming to sense her reluctance, stood. “I should go.”
“I thought you were staying here.”
“All things considered, that doesn’t sound like the best of ideas.”
“Nonsense. Jason will get over it.” Allison stared out the window, at the rain-soaked pathway highlighted by a pool of weak artificial light. “Besides, someone should stay here with Grace in case I have to go looking for him later tonight.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Allison lay awake listening to the sounds of the night. After an hour of worry, she received an apologetic text from Jason. He was with Vaughn. They were drinking wine and Dominic’s homemade grappa in the castle. He invited her to join them, but Allison thought some time with Vaughn alone would be good. Her business colleague had a way of assuaging people’s hurt. She hoped he could help Jason get past this. And even if they didn’t talk about a single emotional subject—which, she admitted to herself, was likely—at least he could escape the claustrophobic cottage for a while.
Still, even knowing he was fine, she couldn’t sleep. She crept out of bed and checked on Grace and Mia, now sleeping soundly in Grace’s large bed. The rain had granted them a reprieve, and Allison opened the cottage windows, finding some relief in the feel of fresh mountain air on her skin.
She poured herself a glass of red wine and booted up her computer. Her mind wandered to her discussion with Lara about Douglas. Everyone here seemed to have some odd connection, and the central figure wasn’t Elle—it was Sam Norton. Mazy had dated him. Michael was his son. Damien, Jeremy, and Sam had been friends. Douglas knew Sam through Shirin and Damien. Even Hilda and Karina seemed to work more with Sam than Elle. It was his castle, so that made a certain sense, but perhaps Shirin’s murder did have to do with Sam. Allison recalled Elle’s initial concern when Sam went missing. She was frightened that Michael had led him there on purpose. She may have been imagining that Michael was still present at the castle, but what if she was right about Sam? What if someone was after him too?
Allison decided to do some digging on each of Elle’s guests. She was sure Balzan was doing the same, but if she was stuck in Italy until the police made an arrest, perhaps she could help that process along.
Only she didn’t find much. Mazy had the most robust online presence, but most of the content had to do with her work as an author. Hilda had only a stale Facebook profile set to the strictest security, and her name was mentioned in a few nursing papers, the titles of which were in German. Karina had no online presence. As Vaughn had said, she didn’t seem to exist—at least not virtually. And she found nothing on Dominic, although that wasn’t a surprise.
A search for Lara and Jeremey resulted in the most hits. No surprises there. Only there were too many to weed through. Jeremy Kahn was an icon, and like any prominent public figure, he had his fans and his critics, those who called him a “hack” or a “pervert” or even a “monster” because of his illustrious affairs. Lara seemed to have more fans than naysayers, but there was an ungodly amount of speculation about her eating habits, drug usage, and the number of cosmetic surgeries she’d had.
By two, Allison had read enough. Again she found herself feeling bad for Elle, surrounded by people who did not seem to care for anyone other than themselves. Allison was shutting down her laptop when she heard the front door open. She turned to see Jason in the doorway.
He stood in the shadows, the cool Italian night behind him, the soft light of the living room bathing his face in a yellowish glow. He looked worn. But his tall, narrow form stood straight and powerful. He might have been a warrior in another age. For now, he looked like a man who’d been battling his own kind of demons.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For going off the reservation tonight.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.” Jason closed the door, but he didn’t move into the room. He pushed his cropped hair back with one hand. “Lara says I’m grieving.”
“Lara? I thought you said you were with Vaughn?” Allison fought the nausea welling in her gut.
“I was. She joined us for a drink. Vaughn left, and we stayed and talked.”
Until two in the morning? Allison bit her tongue, quite literally. She knew any show of jealousy right now would only cause more issues. But those feelings were there—a wall of hurt ready to come crashing down.
Jason avoided Allison’s eyes. “It was harmless. She shared some of her own disappointments. I realized that I’ve been unfair. To you, and to my mother.”
Disappointments? Ah yes, Jeremy’s inability to impregnate her, and Lara’s use of Douglas for that purpose. Allison wondered whether Lara had mentioned any of that. She guessed not.
Allison stood there, speechless. Jason had no way of knowing how deeply his confiding in Lara rather than her hurt, nor could she tell him right now. Tomorrow he would leave for Innsbruck, and then what? She knew he was dealing with his pain in the only way he knew how, and that an outsider could help more than someone whom he felt he’d disappointed. But did that outsider have to be a sexy younger woman, one who had graced the cover of so many men’s magazines? Allison looked at him, pleading silently for him to say something, anything, that would make this feeling of betrayal go away.
But he walked passed her, into their bedroom. He expected she would follow, Allison was sure, but she felt paralyzed. Instead, she laid down on the couch. It was a very long time before sleep claimed her.
Allison awoke to the feeling of someone watching her. She opened her eyes, her body tense and ready to spring. But it was only Jason, looking clean-shaven and wearing a gray flannel summer-weight suit. He was standing over the couch.
“I made you coffee.”
“Thank you. What time is it?”
“Early. I need to leave.”
“Did you say goodbye to Grace?”
“She’s still asleep. So is my mother.”
Jason’s gaze fell over Allison’s body. It strayed to the blanket she’d pulled off the couch. “Why didn’t you come to bed?”
Allison turned away.
“Because of Lara?” When Allison still didn’t speak, Jason sat on the edge of the couch. “Oh, god, Al, nothing happened. You have to believe that. She just happened to be there, and I needed to talk—”
“You chose to talk to her. Not me. Not Vaughn.”
“I can’t expect that Vaughn will get it. And it’s hard to talk to the person I’m hurting.”
“You’re not hurting me because you can’t have kids, Jason. You’re hurting me because you’re shutting me out. That’s not how marriage is supposed to work.”
“I’m so sorry.” Jason placed a hand against Allison face and stroked her hair, early morning messy, away from her eyes. “She seemed somehow to understand.”
Allison shook her head.
“What?”
“She understands because Jeremy can’t have kids. It’s why Lara has been sleeping with Douglas. Why she offered me a bribe to keep their affair quiet.” She turned toward Jason, watching for his reaction. She knew she was being petty, but it was better he know and not glorify this woman as something she was not. But even as she was saying the words, Allison felt spiteful. An unbecoming emotion, indeed. Still, she said, “Partly why, at least.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter.” Jason stood. He grabbed his laptop bag off the small table near the coach. “Are you going to say goodbye?”
Allison climbed off the couch and followed Jason to the door.
“Be careful, Allison. Please.”
Allison nodded, biting back tears. His sadness scared her. It seemed an awkward cloak, an unnerving change in her stalwart fiancé, and it made her think about their divorce years ago. Were they crazy to think they could do this again—for good this time?
“Allison,” Jason repeated. “Are you listening?”
She nodd
ed. “I’ll be careful.”
“And you’ll get out of here as soon as you can?”
“I will.”
Jason gave a tentative shake of his head. “We’ll be all right, Al.”
Allison was certain he meant it as a reassurance. But then why did it sound like he was trying to convince himself?
Vaughn’s arrival at the cottage took Allison’s mind off Jason, at least for a little while.
He joined her on the back veranda, his laptop under one arm and a small bouquet of flowers in the other.
“Peace offering,” he said as he slipped into the chair across from Allison. “For last night.”
Allison’s eyebrows arched. “For getting my fiancé drunk?”
“And for leaving him alone with Lara and Karina.” Vaughn grimaced. “Lara is awful.”
“Not Karina?”
Vaughn shrugged. A faint smile crossed his mouth. “She’s not so bad.”
“Funny, Jason didn’t mention Karina.”
“She probably got bored and went to bed. Even Hilda came down for a little while. And Dominic stopped for a glass of grappa. Lara mostly enjoys talking about Lara, so I think she chased the others away.” Vaughn’s smile broadened. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
“No.” Allison crossed her arms over her chest. Mia and Grace were playing with the goats in the meadow beyond the spa, and Allison watched them. “Maybe a little.”
“Don’t be. They just talked. I think Jason’s really struggling with this issue, and he needed some reassurance from someone who owes him nothing.”
“You mean a hot thirty-year-old supermodel.”
“I mean anyone. You can’t think Jason is that shallow?”
“He’s human. He’s male.”
Vaughn reached a hand out and grabbed Allison’s. “Look, not my place to interfere with your relationship, so I won’t. I can tell you that there was no interest coming from Jason. And as to why he talked to her and not you—and you know you’re thinking it—it’s because he’s a bottled-up guy and he feels like he’s wronged you. Just give him time.”
Allison hadn’t told Vaughn anything about their fertility issues. She realized what that meant. “Jason told you?”
“He did. And Mia sent me a warning text.”
Allison sat back in her chair, her eyes back on Grace. The day was overcast but dry. A torn sky was threatening more storms, and Allison was happy to see Grace outside while the weather cooperated. Grace needed her—needed all of them. Allison would focus her attention on finishing up her work here so they could get home. To normalcy—whatever that was.
“Hey, am I boring you?” Allison looked up to see Vaughn smirking. “Few things on your mind?”
“I guess.”
“Words of wisdom from a friend who has done his fair share of screwing up?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t overthink this. Jason is used to being able to overcome obstacles through sheer force of will and hard work. He can’t conquer this challenge, and it’s a blow to his ego and his sense of worth. He’ll come to terms with it in his time.”
Allison nodded. She believed Vaughn. But what would Jason do in the meantime?
“I didn’t come here to play shrink.” Vaughn opened his laptop on the small bistro table between them. “I came to play detective instead.”
“What do you have for me?”
After a few moments, he turned his computer around and showed Allison the screen. “This.”
“This” was an article on Michael’s mother, Clarice.
“I remembered you told me she’d been an accountant for Sam at one point, and that they’d divorced early.”
“Right. Because of Sam’s affairs.”
Vaughn frowned. “I’m not so sure that’s the case.” He scrolled down and highlighted a section of the article.
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 u
p 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.”