Allison Campbell Mystery Series Boxed Set: Books 1-4

by Wendy Tyson

  “The continued police presence?”

  Elle stood, paced around the room. “We’re a group of Americans living abroad. They don’t know or trust us, and they’re thorough here.” She shrugged. “If they really thought a crime had been committed, they would take official steps to keep people here. They haven’t done that.”

  She had a point. “What about Damien’s death? Before you seemed so convinced it was no accident. Now there have been two deaths on this property, and you’ve convinced yourself Shirin simply fell.”

  Elle stopped moving. Her shoulders sagged. “Douglas.”

  “Douglas?”

  “Douglas probably gave Shirin those bruises. He liked rough sex. She told me that.”

  “Was he capable of killing his wife, Elle?”

  Elle spun around. Her eyes met Allison’s. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

  Jason arrived later that night looking exhausted and distracted. He smiled broadly when he saw Allison and Grace, picked them both up, one at a time, and swung them around.

  “How are my girls?”

  “We missed you,” Allison said.

  Grace nodded. She wrapped her small arms around his legs and beamed.

  “Someone’s looking good,” he said, giving Grace a kiss. He glanced at Allison. “You’re right. The country air agrees with her.”

  “She loves it here,” Allison said to Grace, “Why don’t you get your Legos and we’ll take Uncle Jason outside. You can show him how you like to build.”

  Grace ran off. Allison handed Jason a glass of red wine and led them both outside to the garden patio. It was dusk, and the sun was just starting to sink into the horizon in fat bands of orange, yellow, and red. Sweet scents of jasmine wafted from the flowerbeds surrounding the patio, the flowers’ saturated colors echoing the vibrancy of the sunset beyond.

  “A person could get used to this.” Jason sat in one chair and put his feet up on another. He took a long sip of wine and said, “How are things going?”

  Allison gave him a rundown on her work with Elle. “For a while she was doing better. She’s distracted again.”

  “Someone did just die on her property.”

  “It’s more than that.”

  “How so?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t quite put my finger on it, Jason. She seems…lost.”

  “You don’t know her that well yet, Al. Maybe this is the real Elle.”

  Allison shook her head. She’d thought about that. “I get glimpses sometimes, glimpses of someone far more put together. It makes me think she’s in there.”

  Jason stared into his wine glass, swirling the liquid in the crystal around and around. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Allison, but you need to stay out of trouble. I know you’re drawn to solving problems, but this mess of a family is bigger than you need right now.”

  Echoes of Vaughn. Allison nodded.

  Jason looked up. He held Allison’s gaze. “Look, I know you have to do what you believe is right. And I’ve seen you in action often enough to trust your judgment—and your ability to care for yourself. But you’re in a foreign country. Things are different here.” He focused his gaze on the pool area below. “And it’s hard to know who to trust. So just don’t go looking for problems, okay?”

  “You’re the one who convinced me to stay.”

  “I know—and now I regret it.”

  Allison moved closer to Jason. She put his glass on the table and wrapped her arms around his broad chest. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

  “I love you, Jason.”

  Jason picked Allison’s chin up with two fingers. Looking into his face, she saw sad eyes and the little bit of gray around his temple. He kissed her. She kissed back.

  Grace ran outside with a basket full of Lego blocks.

  Allison didn’t pull away from Jason. Arms still entwined around her fiancé, she watched Grace build a small garage with a rainbow of Lego bricks. Jason’s words reverberated in her brain. No trouble. It seemed like it just might be too late for that.

  Allison didn’t have to go looking for trouble. It found her again, in the form of Lara later that day. Allison was sitting at the pool, working on her book and watching Grace and Hilda play catch with a beach ball while Jason went for a bike ride, when the supermodel slid in the chair across from her. She wore a white terry cloth one-piece jumpsuit, flip flops, and red sunglasses. When she removed her sunglasses, Allison noticed she wore no makeup. She was stunning even without it.

  Allison closed her laptop. “Can I do something for you, Lara?”

  Lara pulled her hair from its holder and swung her head, letting her famous tresses fly around her face. She smiled—a practiced smile Allison was sure Lara thought was coy and convincing.

  “I was hoping to talk to you about that day in the woods.” Although her English was impeccable, Allison still heard the hard edges of Lara’s Eastern-European accent.

  Allison waited. She knew exactly what day Lara was talking about, but she wasn’t about to let her off that easily.

  “What you saw…it was not what it looked like.”

  Allison turned her head and smiled. “What did it look like?”

  “Like me and Douglas. Like we were…together.”

  Allison glanced around, making sure there were no eavesdroppers. She leaned in. “I don’t think there was any question about what Jason and I saw.”

  Lara flashed that Cover Girl smile again. “It was just a single dalliance. A moment of weakness for both of us.”

  Allison closed her eyes and rubbed them. She hoped when she’d open them again, Lara would be gone. But there she was—her expression a study in rehearsed contrition.

  “Let’s cut the bullshit, Lara. We both know what was going on. It’s no secret. Jason and I just happened to see you.”

  “What did you tell the polizia?”

  “I answered the inspector’s questions truthfully.”

  Lara bit her lip and frowned. “Did they ask about us…about me?”

  “They asked about what happened at dinner. I’m sure they asked you too.”

  Lara nodded. Her eyes skirted back and forth across the pool veranda, landing on Allison with a plaintive gaze. “But you didn’t tell them about the forest.”

  It was a statement, not a question—one Allison refused to validate. “I will continue to answer the inspector’s questions truthfully, if that’s what you want to know.” Allison tapped the edge of her laptop. “Is that all? I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m working—”

  “What will it take?” Lara blurted out. “To keep this quiet.”

  Allison felt her breath catch in her throat. Was she actually offering her money to cover up what she saw?

  Lara went on. “For now, Jeremy believes Shirin was paranoid. He never liked her, so it was not hard to convince him that she was making false accusations the night she died. If he finds out you caught us in the woods…that will change things. You’re strangers, with no connection. Please. I will give you whatever you ask for, whatever you need.”

  Allison sat back in her seat, arms across her chest. “And if Jeremey finds out?”

  “He’ll divorce me. We have a prenup.”

  “Surely you knew that before—”

  “Before I slept with Douglas?” She laughed shrilly. “Of course. But Jeremy doesn’t really care. He just doesn’t want to be confronted with it. If he can pretend not to know, he can go on with his own little affairs and everyone is happy. If he’s confronted with what I did, that changes. Ego is involved.” Lara placed a hand on the table and leaned over, her face just inches from Allison’s. “So? How much?”

  “I don’t work that way.”

  “You’re going to tell my husband.”

  Surprised, Allison said, “Look, I don’t agree
with what you did, but I have no intention of getting into the middle of your marriage.”

  “How about the police? You’re going to tell them?”

  “If they ask. Or if it becomes relevant.”

  A new flash of fear. “Relevant?”

  “If the police are looking for motive.”

  “Are you saying Shirin didn’t fall?”

  “I’m saying her death is under investigation.” Allison tilted her head. “Inspector Balzan has practically set up camp in the dining room. Surely you noticed.” As soon as the words were out, Allison knew how wrong they were. Lara, caught in her own marital drama, was only focused on Lara. She probably didn’t notice.

  “You cannot tell the police.” No attempt at coy or contrite now. “If you do, I will have to tell my uncle. I don’t think your fiancé will appreciate that.”

  Lara’s uncle, the CEO of Jason’s new company. Allison closed the top of her laptop and stood.

  “Where are you going?” Lara asked. “What about my uncle?”

  “I doubt that he will be thrilled you’re risking your marriage to sleep with another man. And I can’t imagine the CEO of such a big company would like his name—or his company’s name—associated with a woman who commits blackmail.” Allison held Lara’s gaze for another beat. “Because that’s what you just did.”

  Lara blinked. A French-manicured hand ran its way through her hair before knotting at the base of her throat. Her mouth formed a word that looked a lot like “bitch,” but no sound came out. In the next instance, Grace was running across the deck with Hilda behind her. Lara caught Hilda’s eye and then turned to go without another word about the police.

  Allison excused herself from the pool area and left Grace with Hilda so that she could call Vaughn. While sitting in her cottage, on the bed with the windows closed, she explained her conversation with Lara to Vaughn.

  “She actually offered you a bribe?”

  “She did. In fact, she offered me ‘whatever’ I needed.” Allison paused. “Have you found anything else about Elle’s family?”

  “Jamie’s working on it. You want me to see what I can find on Lara and Jeremy in the meantime?”

  “Yes,” Allison said. “And Douglas Alden.” She thought of the bruises on Shirin’s wrist. On Elle’s arm. Connected? But how? Could Jeremy or Lara have been involved?

  “I hear the wheels turning from Villanova, Allison. And that’s not good. You think something bigger is going on.”

  Allison sighed. “I do.”

  “You trust your instincts. And they’re usually right.”

  “But I—we—have been through a lot. My imagination sometimes works overtime these days. Two people fell. Am I seeing shadows where there is only light?”

  “People die in mountainous places. Chamonix in the French Alps, for example, has one of the highest rates of ski fatalities. People fall, freeze, get lost…why do you think I avoid the outdoors?”

  Allison laughed. “Because you’re a city boy who likes your comforts.”

  “Damn right. And I know my limits.” More seriously, he said, “Why don’t you come home? You can write from here. Get married at some posh place on the Main Line. Or at Mia’s farm. She’d like that.” He paused. “I know I pushed you into this, and I’m sorry—”

  “Stop. I made my own decision. And it’s not so bad. At least it’s been…interesting.” Besides, while that all sounded nice, Allison was afraid it wasn’t nearly that simple. “If my gut is wrong, then I’m obligated to finish up here. My reputation—our reputation—is at stake. And if I’m right, there’s no way the police will let me leave the country.”

  It was a long time before Vaughn responded. Allison figured he was thinking of police interrogations, chronic angst, and all of the unpleasantness that went with suspicion of murder. He would know. Vaughn said, “So leave now, then, before it’s too late. Before anyone forbids you.”

  Allison glanced out the window toward the castle looming in the distance. She spotted Jason speeding down the path on his mountain bike, and, beyond her fiancé, the small black European car that signaled the presence of Inspector Kristoff Balzan. It was joined by three other cars—none that she recognized.

  “I think it’s too late for that,” she said. “The wheels of justice are turning.”

  “What the hell are all the police here for?” Jason asked. He was still panting from his ride, and his face was tomato-red underneath his helmet. He took a long drink from his water bottle, swung one leg over the bike, and unclipped from the other pedal. “Did they find another body?” They were standing on the cottage stoop and he looked past Allison into the cottage. “Where is Grace?”

  “At the pool with Hilda. I came up here to call Vaughn.”

  Jason climbed back on the bike. Looking toward the pool and spa beyond the meadow, he said, “Wait here. I’ll check on her.”

  Allison watched him ride down the path and hop over the small rocks between the gravel and the meadow with his bike. Graceful as a gazelle on that thing, she thought. They’d spent so much time together these days, and she needed to take a step back, look beyond the work issues, busy-ness, and personal problems of the past few months and really see him. He deserved that.

  He disappeared by the pool and Allison sat down on the step, waiting. The air was soupy today—a blanket of rain clouds were moving in, and the wind was picking up. She didn’t see any police activity by the pool, which calmed her. Still…the inspector had brought friends, and that couldn’t signal anything good.

  Jason was back a few minutes later. “All is fine. Happy as an otter in the water. I think Grace has found a soul mate in Hilda. Hilda said they’ll be up in thirty minutes.”

  “And they will. Hilda is always on time.” Allison paused. “They do seem to adore each other.”

  Jason placed his bike in the small mud room in the cottage. “What do you think of Hilda?”

  “She seems nice. She certainly is good with Grace.”

  “Have you gotten to know her?”

  “Not really. Only by watching her with Grace.”

  In fact, to Allison, Hilda was a cipher—so quiet that it was nearly impossible to have a full conversation with her. But when she was with Grace, Hilda lit up. Allison had to admit, she seemed to watch over that little girl as though she were her own. Grace craved the quiet attention, and she was picking up more German each day. Despite Elle’s inconsistent behavior and the loss of Shirin, this place was still a welcome retreat, if for no other reason than Grace. Allison loved watching her blossom. And Allison was reluctant to let go of that.

  With a glance toward the castle and its circle of police cars, Jason peeled off his riding jersey. His muscles rippled underneath.

  “How about a snack before dinner?” He moved closer, the warmth from his body enveloping her. “And then I’ll put together some fruit and wine when we’re done.”

  Allison smiled. She untied the string around her neck that held up her sundress. She was nude underneath. “Are you suggesting an afternoon tryst, Mr. Campbell?”

  He reached out and stroked the ridge of her bare shoulder. “All work and no play—”

  “Let’s go play, then,” Allison whispered. “But just for a little while. After all, I don’t want anyone calling us dull.”

  Karina was at the cottage door after Allison and Jason finished lovemaking but before fruit and wine. Allison met Karina in the living room, her robe the only thing she could grab and don amidst Karina’s panicked pounding.

  “What is it?”

  “Sam. He’s missing.”

  “Missing as in lost?”

  Karina nodded. She strained her neck to see behind Allison, as though Allison were keeping the rock star hostage.

  “I can assure you, he’s not here.” Allison pulled her robe tighter around her midsection. “When did he leave?�
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  “We’re not sure.” Karina’s voice was sharp. “Elle is a mess. Perhaps you should come.”

  “Why don’t you let us help look for Sam?”

  Karina turned to look toward the castle. “La polizia are here. Elle called them when she found her father’s room empty and Dominic was unable to locate Sam.”

  “Maybe he went for a ride into town. Or a walk in the woods.”

  Karina didn’t say anything. Her expression said both options were absurd. She looked beyond Allison again, sighed, and said, “Well then, if you can help scour the vicinity, that would be good. By five it will be raining. And if he’s out then…we need to find him right away.”

  Allison closed the door after Karina left, and then leaned against it. If Sam had Alzheimer’s—or something like it—he could be confused, disoriented. He could be anywhere on this property.

  He could be dead.

  The thought pummeled her in the stomach, sent her head reeling in a million directions. She pictured her mother, who’d been an Alzheimer’s sufferer, and the time she’d gone missing. They’d been terrified—and they were near town, where it was hard to get truly lost. Here, the elements could get someone before rescue could occur. Plus, Sam seemed much more in tune with reality than her mother had been, so what if he wasn’t simply missing. What if something had happened to him? A fall…

  Two accidental deaths? Possible. A third? Surely not.

  Before she could articulate anything, Jason was beside her. He’d thrown on canvas hiking pants and a pair of boots.

  “I heard everything. Stop thinking the worst, Al.” He pushed her hair back behind her ear, leaned over to kiss her gently and reassuringly. With a glance at his watch, he said, “Hilda and Grace will be back here in four minutes. If Hilda will stay with Grace, we can head out onto the trail and look for Sam.”

  “What if we find him out there?” Allison asked.

  Jason looked at her, his eyes shadowed. “What if we don’t?”