by C. J. Miller
The woman frowned, continuing to inspect her hands. “Sorry. I’ve only worked here a few months. I hardly know anyone in town.” She leaned forward. “But you know, you should talk to Katerina Panagopoulos. She works in Kyklades, the ice-cream store. Well, works is an exaggeration. She mostly hangs out there, giving unsolicited advice and yelling at people who break her rules.”
Katerina Panagopoulos wasn’t a name on her list. “Her rules?”
“Wearing white socks with dark shoes. Talking loudly on your cell phone. Fashion and etiquette rules,” the salesclerk said.
Iliana could be fashionable and polite. “I will talk to Katerina Panagopoulos. Thank you.”
As Iliana walked toward Kyklades, she wondered if her mother had ever walked this same path. Where had her mother lived? What had she liked to do with her leisure time? Did Iliana have anything in common with her?
Her mother had died more than thirty years ago. Would Iliana find anyone who remembered her? Demetrius had found three names connected to her mother, but how close had they been to Persephone?
The businesses in town seemed to be clustered around a few streets. Iliana arrived at the ice-cream shop. A woman wearing a floor-length floral dress sat outside the front windows at a small table covered by a green-and-white umbrella. As she approached, the woman shot her an up-and-down appraising look. “Nice outfit.”
Did that mean she passed the fashion test? Distracted by Katerina’s etiquette rules, Iliana almost forgot her manners. “Thank you. I’m Iliana DeSante. I am looking for Katerina Panagopoulos.”
“You found me,” she said. She stood and picked up a wicker hat from the table and placed it on her head. What Iliana had thought was a dress was actually a jumpsuit.
“You don’t look familiar, and your accent is strange,” Katerina said.
“I’m not from around here. I’m looking for information about Persephone Paphiti.”
Katerina narrowed her eyes. Iliana realized she was holding her breath. She let it out and relaxed her shoulders.
“I remember someone with that name,” Katerina said.
“What do you remember about her?” Iliana asked.
“Bright girl. Long, dark red hair and big brown eyes.”
That was a generic description and didn’t tell Iliana anything about her mother, about who she was. “Did you know her?”
“I did. I went to school with her. She was two years younger than me. Too adventurous for her own good. She and another girl, Helena Kariolis, used to stay at the school even over winter and spring break.”
Excitement thundered through her. Finally, some actual information about her mother.
Helena Kariolis was another of the names on her list. Her mother had likely stayed at the school because she had nowhere else to go. “What do you mean by too adventurous?” Iliana asked. She didn’t want to uncover bad things about her mother, but she had to have tough skin about this. It dawned on her that if her mother had slept with a married man, she didn’t have a perfect moral compass. Then again, who did? Love and passion had a way of scrambling logic and ethics.
“Persephone used to sneak out and visit the boys’ boarding school across the lake. She missed curfew. She had flowers in her room weekly, sent by her latest admirers. She would have been expelled, but she was a fast talker. Sweet and genuinely kind to the people around her. She cared about people’s feelings, and if she was asked for help, she gave it freely. It was easy to be jealous of her but hard not to like her.”
Iliana smiled and felt relief. The picture Katerina was painting of her mother wasn’t so bad. “You mentioned she had a friend, Helena Kariolis. What do you know about her?”
Katerina gave her a strange look. “You should talk to her yourself. Helena Kariolis has her vacation home around here. If you’re lucky, she might be home if court is not in session. But she’s a busy woman, being a judge and everything.”
Iliana tried not to let her hopes shoot up too high. She and Katerina talked a little longer, and when the conversation circled around to the same stories about her mother, Iliana politely disengaged.
She met her security guards at the corner of the block and asked them to drive her to Helena Kariolis’s home.
When she arrived at the designated address, there was no answer. Disappointed that she was striking out at her leads, she had security drive her to the last address on the list Demetrius had given her.
Ladonna Caras lived in a small white Cape Cod located across the bridge, on the side of town that seemed more run-down. The streets were empty and the area had a dismal feeling to it. A light in the front window advertised fortunes in bright red letters. Not getting out of the car yet, she called Demetrius. He picked up the phone on the second ring. “Having fun? Learn anything that I should know?”
How much had he known before sending her out to look for information? “Nothing important yet. Do you know that the last address on the paper you gave me is for a fortune-teller?”
“Yes.”
“You cannot believe that a fortune-teller will see into the past.”
He laughed. “I don’t know what her abilities may be. But she was friendly with your mother.”
“I’ll see if she’ll talk to me. I’ve struck out with the other two names on the list. One is on vacation, and the other wasn’t home. But I ran into someone who knew my mother. She had nice things to say about her.”
“That’s great, Iliana. Don’t give up. If you don’t find what you need today, we’ll try again.”
Iliana wanted to know everything she could now. She said her goodbyes to Demetrius and stepped out of the car. She took the cracked cement stairs to the black front door. The house was in need of a sanding and paint job. The railing was rusting and the door was loose on its hinges, squeaking as she opened it.
“Hello?”
An attractive woman with jet-black hair and dramatic makeup stepped out from behind a purple paisley curtain. “Greetings.” She folded her hands in front of her, the dozens of gold bangles on her wrists jingling, and said nothing else.
“I’m Iliana DeSante. Maybe you knew I was coming.”
Ladonna didn’t smile at Iliana’s joke.
“I’m looking for information about my mother,” Iliana said.
Ladonna smiled. “Please come in and sit down.” She looked out the front window. “You travel with armed escorts? Are you with the police?”
“Not law enforcement. My husband works for the government.” It was the simplest way to explain it.
Ladonna nodded as if she understood. “Tell me what knowledge you seek.”
“I want to know any information you have about Persephone Paphiti.”
Ladonna frowned. “First, I will give you a reading. Then I will tell you the rest.”
Iliana reached for her wallet. She knew how this game was played. She laid some money on the table. “You’ll get the other half when you tell me about Persephone Paphiti.” Worried that Ladonna would try to defraud her if she knew how important the information was, she tried to stay cool.
Ladonna frowned. “Set your hands on the table, palms up.”
Iliana did as she was asked.
Ladonna pointed to her wedding rings. “You are newly married. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Except it’s not a happy marriage.”
Was this a therapy session or a psychic reading? Maybe Ladonna’s clients got both. Iliana didn’t want to talk about Demetrius, but dancing around it would prolong this discussion. “It’s had its ups and downs.” A neutral enough statement.
“He is dynamite in the bedroom.”
Iliana felt the blush creep over her cheeks. “Yes.” How had Ladonna known that? Maybe women made hasty decisions about marrying men who were fantastic in bed.
&
nbsp; “But he’s disappointed you in other ways.”
A generic statement, but true. “Yes.”
Ladonna waited.
Iliana wanted to push through this part quickly. “He isn’t a big fan of telling the whole truth.”
“He has not cheated on you. He will not cheat on you.”
Iliana didn’t think he’d cheated, but she was intrigued and felt herself getting pulled in. “What makes you say that?”
“He’s a powerful man.” She pointed to the car. “You are a strong woman. He had his pick of women, but he picked you because of your strength, your heart and your mind. That’s what will keep him coming back for more. It will always be more.”
Iliana shivered. “I am not sure the marriage will last.” She whispered the words. It was a fear that had crossed her mind when she thought about how different they were and how much they had to overcome.
Ladonna touched Iliana’s middle fingers. “It will last. He will be faithful. Even if you leave him, he will not stray. He will pursue you for the rest of his life.”
“As you said, he’s a powerful man with his pick of women. After he gets what he wants from me, he’ll move on.” Ladonna could spout whatever pseudoromantic notions about devotion and forever, but Iliana lived in the real world. In her world, her husband had lied to her about something important. He was using her for a purpose, and when that purpose was met, he would continue with his life with or, more likely, without her.
“What do you think he wants?” Ladonna asked, wrinkling her nose.
Iliana pulled her hands away, feeling exposed. “I don’t know. But everything my husband does is for a purpose. He did not marry me because he loves me. In fact, he hasn’t said those words to me.” Another truth that was hurtful and difficult to admit. What was it about Ladonna that had her spilling secrets? She had come to find information, not wear her heart on her sleeve.
“But you feel his love,” Ladonna said. “In your heart, you feel his love for you.”
At times she did. When they had started their relationship, before they were a couple, it had been exciting and fresh and new. Whenever she had heard that he was coming to the castle, she had felt jittery and anxious in anticipation. When she saw him, she felt overcome with desire. He had seemed mysterious and strong and wonderful. They would exchange private looks, and he would sometimes stop at her desk to whisper to her, a secret message between the two of them. “Sometimes.”
Ladonna’s eyes opened wide. “You need to be careful. There are people who want to hurt you.”
She knew that. It was why she was traveling with security. “Can you tell me about Persephone Paphiti now?”
Ladonna blinked as if trying to clear her head. She brought her hands to her temples. “You claim to be Persephone’s daughter, but that cannot be true. Her daughter died with her in childbirth.”
“That was a lie told to keep me safe. How did you know my mother?”
Ladonna stood and paced the room. “She was my foster sister. Just for a few months before she was taken to boarding school. I felt bad for her. She didn’t have a family. A lot of girls were jealous that she and Helena received the scholarships, but it was sad that they didn’t have anything else.” Ladonna folded her arms. “She just wanted a family. She told me that once.”
Iliana was familiar with the sentiment. “Do you think she ever found it?”
Ladonna shrugged. “I don’t know. Like I said, I only knew her those months after her grandmother died and spoke to her infrequently after that. She was pretty sad and quiet. Is that why you came to Kontos? Looking for family, too?”
Iliana supposed she had. Hers and her mother’s lives ran in a strange parallel, and now Iliana felt it had come full circle. She was lonely and involved with a man who may not be able to give her the future she wanted. She coveted a family of her own.
“Did Persephone have other family?” Iliana asked.
Ladonna shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t think so. It was why she was in foster care. No one else to take her in.”
They spoke a few more minutes, but Ladonna wasn’t able to share anything new.
“Let me leave you with this piece of advice. Do not be so quick to think you know the heart and thoughts of others. Some in your life wish you harm, but others are truer than you believe.”
Iliana wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. Was Ladonna talking about her half siblings or Demetrius? Someone else entirely?
Iliana thanked Ladonna and paid her the remainder of her fee. She had hoped to learn more, and, for the briefest second, she had hoped Ladonna would tell her that Persephone had other family.
Iliana exited the psychic’s home and climbed into the back of the car. She called Demetrius, needing to hear his voice, needing a friend. “Can you meet me for a late lunch?”
“Sure. What happened? You sound upset.”
Ladonna had stirred emotions in her, and she didn’t know how to settle them. “My mother didn’t have a family. Ladonna said she wanted one. Maybe that’s why she slept with the king. Maybe she wanted to be part of his life, his family.”
“That’s one theory.”
Iliana wanted to believe that her mother had good intentions. “Let’s meet at Kyklades, the ice-cream store on Main Street. I saw a sandwich shop across the street.”
“I’ll be there. See you in thirty minutes.”
Iliana communicated her plans to her security. Talking to Demetrius would center her. Maybe he’d have some ideas of how to get in touch with the others from her mother’s past. Maybe they would paint a more hopeful picture of her mother, someone with a happy and full life.
Driving across the narrow bridge leading into the heart of Kontos, she felt an impact from behind and the car lurched forward. Iliana twisted in her seat and saw two cars bearing down on them. The first car was moving closer to ram them again, and the second car was speeding up the left side.
“Stay in your seat!” a guard shouted.
Her driver sped up, but the car was struck a second time. Iliana grabbed for her phone. It had been thrown forward. She needed to call Demetrius for help. If she took a picture of the cars, perhaps they could find the person responsible for Nicholas’s death and Maria’s attack.
“Get down!” her security guard shouted at her.
Iliana covered her head and braced her arms and legs in the back of the car. Shots rang out and glass rained down on her. The car was hit again and fishtailed wildly. Would they be thrown from the bridge?
Chapter 7
The car slammed to an immediate stop. Both her guards climbed out, holding their weapons. Their bulletproof vests were visible, and Iliana prayed they would be safe.
She scrambled for her phone and couldn’t find it. She heard shouting and more gunfire. Were Demetrius’s guards in danger? The men were trained and skilled, but who were they up against?
She had been left alone in the car. The backseat car door opened and she looked up in surprise, half expecting to see Demetrius.
It was a stranger with a ragged scar across his lips and a tattoo encircling his neck. “Get up!”
Before she had time to react, the tattooed stranger dragged her from the car. Iliana twisted and kicked at him to break free, but his arm was around her waist, holding her tight, squeezing her hard. It was difficult to draw a full breath.
Another car pulled onto the bridge. Would she be forced into the car and taken away? She fought harder. She could disappear in Valencia and no one would find her. Without her phone she couldn’t call for help.
Demetrius needed her. She needed him. She bit her attacker’s arm. He swore and jerked her to the side. Her brain rattled in her head enough that she felt dizzy.
“Do that again and I’ll throw you off the bridge,” he said.
She
could swim. Then again, surviving the fifty-foot drop onto rocks presented some problems.
Demetrius stepped out of the car. His hands were empty. Of all times to be without a gun! They had been planning to meet for lunch escorted by his security. She couldn’t let her husband be harmed. “Demetrius, no! Run!”
The man holding her whirled toward Demetrius, putting her between Demetrius on one side and his guards on the other. Her assailant pushed a gun against her head. “Don’t interfere or I’ll kill her.”
Demetrius’s guards had disposed of the other men and were moving in her direction. They looked furious and bloody, as opposed to Demetrius, who appeared unmoved by the entire scene. He was wearing a crisp suit and looked as if he were about to walk into a board meeting, not into a showdown with a killer.
She knew how to read Demetrius now. His coldness, his indifferent facade, masked his plans and his emotions.
Demetrius held out his hands to stop his guards. “He has my wife. Don’t provoke him.”
It was so unlike Demetrius to take a defensive stance. What was his plan?
“Iliana, are you okay?” Demetrius asked.
“Yes.” Except for the gun to her head.
“Let my wife go and I won’t kill you,” he said calmly.
The man laughed. “This isn’t about you, President DeSante. Go back to Icarus and choose a new wife. I have my orders.”
Demetrius continued advancing. “You have new orders. Release her.”
The gun pressed harder into her temple. “If you don’t kill me, the man who hired me will and then send someone else after her. You can’t win this battle.”
Dark shadows passed over Demetrius’s face. Iliana doubted Demetrius ever accepted defeat. He fought until he won. She had never known a man with more grit and determination. “Who hired you?” he asked. Not a casual question; he was composing his hit list. Whoever had done this would pay.
The man walked backward, yanking her with him. She tried to use her shoes to slow their progress, but he was too big and strong. She was close to the edge of the bridge, the steel cables within reach. It would be a simple matter to toss her over.