Fatal Facade

by Wendy Tyson

  “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 concern.

  “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.

  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 recall
ed 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 nodded. “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.