Allison Campbell Mystery Series Boxed Set: Books 1-4

by Wendy Tyson

“No one talks to me that way.”

  “Yeah, well maybe they should.” Allison picked up one sneaker and placed it next to Elle’s prone form. “You’re over forty and you act like a spoiled fifteen-year-old.”

  “You’re not supposed to repeat that.”

  “Whatever age you want to pretend you are, it’s well north of a child, and that’s how you should be acting. Like the independent, intelligent adult who I know is lurking under there somewhere.” Her voice softer, Allison said, “Look, Elle, I know today was frightening, but you didn’t call me here to coddle you or watch you mope. You asked for me because you know I’ll help you do what you need to do.”

  “Which is?” Voice a whisper.

  “Be the person you envision. You want to reinvent yourself? Now is the time. Take charge. Show the world—or at least your guests and staff—that you’re on top of this.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “What’s the saying? A sign of insanity is doing the same thing again and again and expecting different results? Want to change? Start now.”

  Elle didn’t move. Allison noticed the skin on her face go from pasty eggshell white to pink to flame-thrower red. Elle was angry, and that was good. Some reaction—even rage—was better than passivity. Or despair.

  Eventually, Elle said, “I think Michael did it.” She sat up, swung her legs over the bed, and pulled on the yellow GAP t-shirt Allison had thrown to her. “I think he took my father outside and left him there.”

  “You know they found your father?”

  Elle smirked. “I may be a basket case, but I’m not completely daft. Of course I know they found him. I haven’t been resting here the whole time, you know.”

  “Why weren’t you searching? I’d have expected you to be the first one out there.”

  “I was helping in my own way.” She blinked, rubbed her eyes. “I hired the chopper. I was really scared that he’d fallen too. Like Shirin. Like Damien.”

  “I can understand why.” Allison pushed the jeans closer to Elle. Elle acquiesced, pulling them slowly over a blue lace thong. Allison wanted to share what Jason had found, but now wasn’t the time. She had to tell the police first. “Where did they find Sam?”

  “By the old church ruins. If you follow a path from the foundation, there is a little nature-made enclave about a tenth of a mile into the woods. It’s quite beautiful, actually. Moss grows on old-growth trees and ferns blanket the ground, providing a little private nook.” She closed her eyes again. “I used to go there with Damien. To talk.”

  “Not the same place where Lara and Douglas go?”

  Elle smiled. “No. Much closer.”

  “Had your dad been there before?”

  Elle nodded. “I took him and Michael there when they first arrived on this trip. To show them, you know? How beautiful it is.” Her complexion, which had returned to neutral, was reddening again. “That bastard took him there and left him. I know it.”

  “Michael?” When Elle nodded, Allison said, “Elle, Michael’s not here, remember? He left last week.”

  Elle’s gaze strayed to her arm, rubbing the now-faint bruises along the tender skin. “That’s just what he wants you to think.”

  “Are you saying he’s here? On the premises?”

  “I’m not sure he ever left.” Elle sat straighter, as though resigning herself to some unpleasantness. “I thought he was heading back to California. That’s what he told me. But Daddy kept insisting that he was still here. At first I dismissed it as my father’s ever-increasing gibberish—he’s not exactly the most reliable source of information these days—but then I found something.”

  Elle hopped off her bed and made her way to a tall credenza in the corner. She removed a key from a small box on the top and opened the bottom drawer. From in the drawer’s depths, she pulled out a small, slender laptop.

  “I found it when I was going through Michael’s rooms, looking for…well, it doesn’t matter. He had it and a large wad of cash stuffed in an unused suitcase in the closet.” She shook her head. “More importantly, he would never leave without this.”

  Allison sat down on the nearest chair, her mind grasping the implications of her client’s words. “Maybe he has two laptops? That’s not unusual.”

  Elle shook her head. “No way. He always has this with him. I’m telling you, he’s here.” She slid the laptop back. “I need to return it before he figures out I know.” She looked at Allison. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I was afraid you’d think I was nuts.”

  Elle’s eye were dilated, her breathing rapid. The topic upset her. She seemed to be telling the truth—at least what she thought was the truth.

  Allison asked, “Why would he do that, Elle? Pretend to be gone when he’s here.”

  “Because he hates me.”

  “Even if he hates you, that doesn’t explain why he’d skulk around the castle, pretending to be gone.”

  “It allows him to mess with my mind.”

  “That sounds pretty paranoid. Why would he want to do that?”

  Elle pulled at a thread on the hem of her jeans. Twirling the thread around her pointer finger, she shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “So maybe he’s not really here.”

  “I know he is.”

  “I don’t think the presence of your brother’s—sorry, half-brother’s—laptop is concrete evidence that he’s here.”

  Elle said, “Remember that B movie I was in? The one where I played a spy’s friend?”

  Allison remembered. Vaughn found it and encouraged her to watch it before leaving for Italy. It was awful. While Elle’s acting had not been terrible, she’d run around spouting nonsensical lines and wearing next to nothing. “I know the one you’re talking about.”

  “Terrible, I know. But in the movie when my spy boyfriend was trying to figure out whether his partner was a double agent, he placed a hair in a file he was carrying. The file looked undisturbed, but the hair was gone.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I used that trick, only I placed a strand of red thread in the laptop. When I checked it later, the thread was gone.”

  Allison had to tip her hat to her—that was smart. “So someone opened the laptop. Let’s pretend for a moment that your brother—”

  “Half-brother.”

  “Half-brother is still here. I ask you again, to what end? And why would he lead Sam into the woods and leave him there?”

  Elle sat quietly for a moment, rocking rhythmically back and forth. She frowned, stood. “It must be the money.”

  “Your dad’s assets?”

  “Yes. If something happens to my father, Michael gets half. The foundation only survives if my father is alive and well enough to run it.”

  The foundation again. “So you think he pretended to leave so that he could lead your dad to the spot only a few people knew about?”

  Elle whipped around. She now had a silver paddle brush in her hand and she slapped it sharply across her palm. “Yes. Because my dad knew about the spot too. And if Michael was gone—or believed to be gone—no one could tie him to my dad’s disappearance.”

  “Think about that, Elle. If he really wanted to hurt your dad, he could have done something much worse than leading him into the woods. It’s not winter, and there are no wolves or grizzlies around here. Your dad could live for days. And the chance of him being found? Very high.”

  “What if he intended to do something worse—as in push him over a cliff?” Elle frowned. “Just like Shirin. Just like my husband.”

  Allison thought about this. She asked, “What if Michael’s intent wasn’t to kill him?”

  Elle looked at her sharply. “What other motive could he have?”

  “You said your father is showing signs of dementia. Forgetfulness. Confusion. Irritability.” Allison titled her head, lowered her voice. “I know those s
igns. My mother passed recently. She had Alzheimer’s.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. But my point is, what if Michael did lead your dad out into the woods. What if he’s trying to underscore your father’s incompetence? Affect everyone’s perception of your father.”

  It took a moment for understanding to dawn on Elle’s face. “So that he’s out of the picture when it comes to the foundation?”

  Allison shrugged.

  “Would that make sense?”

  “Maybe.” Elle sat on the bed. She pulled on one sneaker, then the next, her brow a mass of tiny crinkles. “But why? Michael’s already on the board.”

  “What does he do? Aside from the foundation?”

  “Nothing.”

  “So the foundation is everything to him?”

  “I guess. To be honest, I haven’t paid much attention to the business. And I don’t know him that well. Our connection is recent.”

  “And tumultuous?” Allison pointed to Elle’s wrists, the bruises now faint tracks against pale skin.

  “Sometimes.” Elle stood quickly. She grabbed a hippy-fringed leather purse from a chair near her desk. “We don’t always see eye to eye.”

  “On the foundation?”

  Elle smiled. “On my house. On my—err, our—father. On much of anything.” Her eyes narrowed. “He thinks I’m freeloading.”

  Allison pointed to Elle’s wrists. “He hurt you.”

  “Not really.” She stroked the spot again. “He has an issue with his temper.”

  A son with a mysterious past and rage issues. Two dead people, one missing man. Could it be this easy? “Was Michael involved in some way with Shirin?”

  “Not that I know of. Why?”

  “She had bruises similar to yours. On her arm. Remember?”

  “Probably from Douglas. I told you before—he likes things rough. Or maybe she had simply hurt herself.”

  “Maybe.” But Allison was unconvinced. “I think you should share your suspicions about Michael with the inspector. He can check flight schedules and passenger lists and confirm whether Michael actually left Italy.”

  “No way. First of all, Daddy has a private jet, so tracking Michael’s whereabouts will be harder. Secondly, he won’t believe me. Besides, I don’t want the police here anymore than necessary.”

  “It’s possible there is a killer at the castle, Elle. And if it’s Michael, and he wants control of the foundation, you could be a target.”

  “You think my own brother would hurt me?”

  “Half-brother. One you didn’t know you even had until recently.” Allison pointed to the laptop. “He gave you bruises, Elle. And if you think he’d risk his own father’s life, what would stop him from hurting you more seriously?”

  Elle considered this. After a moment, she nodded. “I’ll tell Inspector Balzan, but he’s going to think I’m crazy.” She threw her bag over her shoulder, opened the door that led into the rest of the castle, and motioned for Allison to follow. “The spoiled American. I’m sure he sees me that way too.”

  “You can change that, Elle.”

  “Change isn’t easy.”

  Allison closed the door behind her. “It’s easier than living a life of regrets.”

  TWENTY

  The inspector listened without comment. When Elle was finished explaining her theory in passable Italian, Balzan nodded. He said something Allison didn’t understand. She looked to Elle for translation.

  “He says he’ll come back tomorrow with the translator to hear this again. He doesn’t want anything lost because of my poor Italian.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “He also says to tell you that you must remain in Italy.”

  Allison had been expecting this. Nevertheless, she felt the all too familiar throbbing in her head. “For how long?”

  Elle spoke again in labored Italian. The inspector answered with one word, “Indefinitamente.”

  It didn’ take a translator to know what that meant.

  “You have to stay,” Jason said. “Because you were here when Shirin fell.”

  It was the next day, and Jason had spent an hour in the company of Inspector Balzan and his translator, Julia. Allison had spent the afternoon with Elle, working on her plan and skyping with various professionals back home—trying, sometimes unsuccessfully, to focus on work. When Jason was finished, he fetched her from Elle’s rooms, the stern expression on his face enough to tell Allison what had transpired.

  “So the authorities suspect foul play?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about you, your job?”

  “I can go. Despite Elle’s allegations, they’re not considering Sam’s disappearance a crime. Not at this point. Shirin’s a different story.”

  “Did you tell them?” She didn’t have to add “about the climbing bolt”—that was understood.

  Jason took her elbow and led her gently into a side alcove. The plaster walls were cool to the touch and Allison leaned against them for support. She had slipped on a plain khaki sundress before coming to the castle, and goosebumps spread across her bare arms.

  “I told Inspector Balzan. He asked that we not repeat that to anyone.”

  “Had he noticed the bolt too?”

  “No, actually, he hadn’t. At first he looked skeptical, like I was trying to throw attention elsewhere, but the longer we spoke, the more intrigued he seemed to be.”

  “You told him about the peat and your theory of wet versus dry.”

  Jason nodded. He’d sported a few days growth of beard and it accentuated his strong cheekbones and balanced chin. His eyes, usually sharp with intelligence, looked almost manic. He’d been an attorney for as long as Allison had known him, and he was used to puzzles and examining evidence. Make that evidence related to an area he felt passionate about—mountaineering in any fashion—and couple it with concern for his family, and the result was a recipe for compulsive attention.

  Jason said, “Balzan had been thinking along the same lines. They have some reason to suspect foul play, something he wouldn’t share. He’s sending someone to check out the bolt. He said he’ll try to examine the spot where Damien fell too, although he had little hope they would find anything. In the meantime, you have to stay here, in town.”

  “What about Grace? I’m not comfortable having her here, not if there’s a killer lurking about.” Nor do I want to leave her, she thought—especially now, when she’s thriving and we’re getting along so well.

  “Grace doesn’t have to stay.” He grew more somber, his face taking on the expression she’d seen before, when her mother passed away. “My mother and Vaughn are coming anyway. We can ask them to take Grace home.”

  “I think that would be wise.” Allison paused, looking around. “They can’t stay here in the interim, though. It wouldn’t be good. What if something else happens? No use tying them up at the castle.” And then there’s the wedding, Allison thought. She kept mum, hoping that somehow this would all be cleared up quickly and plans could move forward. Only that somber look in Jason’s eyes told her he didn’t share her hope.

  “You could probably leave the castle, Allison. As long as you don’t leave Bidero. I’ll talk with Balzan.” He started back in the direction of the inspector’s makeshift office, and Allison held up her hand to stop him.

  “No, don’t. Staying here is part of my agreement with Elle. Mia can take Grace, and then I will look for a hotel—if there are any. Besides, Jason, if this was intentional, it sure feels personal. I’ll remain for now.”

  Jason regarded her with worry in his eyes. “For now,” he said grudgingly. “While I’m here to help look after Grace. But once my mother gets here and I need to return to Innsbruck, I’d feel more comfortable if you left the grounds.”

  Allison nodded. Hopefully by then this would all be o
ver. “Yesterday Balzan said I had to stay indefinitely. Did he give you a time frame?”

  Jason shook his head. His eyes told her all she needed to know—until they know what’s going on, no one leaves the area.

  Allison reflected on the meaning behind this. “Am I a suspect?”

  Jason looked at the marble floor. “I’m afraid you’re all suspects.”

  Allison’s first call was to Mia. Her former—and soon to be again—mother-in-law stayed silent for what felt like eons. She said eventually, “You can’t catch a break.”

  “Trouble does seem to follow me.” She wanted to ask if she was regretting the fact her son was going to marry her again but decided it didn’t matter. “So, will you do it?”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Faye could watch her until I get back. But Faye won’t leave my father to travel here.” And she won’t leave the country, Allison thought, not without a damn good reason—and fetching her niece might not qualify.

  Mia said, “You don’t need to explain.”

  Mia’s voice was calm, reserved. Allison knew her former mentor well enough to know that tone was covering up some deeper emotion.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m already booked on a flight, but I’ll see if I can move it up. And then I’ll find somewhere in Bidero to stay, so we can be close to you. When things get resolved, we can move forward with the wedding plans.”

  Allison felt relief wash over her. She’d get to see Grace—from the safety of somewhere other than the castle. “Really, you’ll stay in town for a bit, stick around?”

  At that, Mia laughed. “A murder investigation and a crazy family in the Italian Alps. Why not? You make it sound so inviting.”

  Allison’s second call was to Vaughn.

  “I need you to do some research on Sam Norton’s foundation.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “Pay It Forward.”

  “We’ll see what we can dig up. We’re still working on the other stuff.” He paused. “Are you okay?”

  “We’re fine.” She gave him a brief rundown of the last twenty-four hours. “So Mia is coming early to get Grace. Just to be safe.”