We stopped outside room 113 while Zach fiddled with the key to unlock the door.
“Where did you learn Greek?”
“In Greece.” He smiled down at me and pushed open the door.
A double bed. I held back but he put his hand to my waist and pushed me in. The room was small with a tiny bathroom and shower. A window looked out on the road we came in. We were two stories up on the hillside. There was another set of rooms under us looking at the same scene. The double bed took up most of the narrow wall. With a straight back chair and a lamp on a stand beside the bed, there wasn’t much sleeping room for a person on the floor.
Zach stood in front of the window and seemed to be studying the lay of the land although what he could see in the gathering dusk I didn’t know.
I cleared my throat. “This is not what I had in mind for sleeping accommodations.”
“I know,” he said, not turning around. “But it’s what we’re going with. I’m going out to bring in our bags and lock up the car.”
He turned dark, inscrutable eyes on me. “Don’t try to take off. These are isolated mountains. It’s cold up here at night even though it’s hot down at sea level. You wouldn’t last long in that outfit.”
We both looked over my shorts and tank top.
His attitude was wearing thin. I was tired, hungry, confused, frustrated, needed a drink bad and was beginning not to care about anything.
“I’m taking a shower,” I said with a look that dared him to stop me. I wasn’t concerned what he thought at this point. “When you bring my bag in, leave it by the bathroom door.”
I went into the bathroom and slammed the door hard, sharing my pent up frustration with the wood door. Not that it mattered much to the door but that simple act felt good. I couldn’t get the instant hot water switch to work so I bathed in a trickle of water from the solar tank. At least the water wasn’t ice cold. Using the small cake of soap, I washed my hair but had a hard time getting all the soap out. By the time I was finished the water was cold. In a perverse way I was pleased he would have to take a cold shower. Maybe it would calm him down.
I pulled my bag into the tiny shower room and got out a pair of fresh shorts and tank top. When I came out of the bathroom, he wasn’t there. I checked the door. Locked. I tried to open the deadbolt but it was jammed or locked from outside. I kicked the door in frustration.
On the stand beside the bed was a tray with several small hard roll sandwiches and two bottles of Keo beer. I could really tie one on with two beers. I took a long, thirsty swallow and smacked my lips good enough for a beer commercial back home.
Zach’s bag was no where to be seen.
By the time I had eaten one of the sandwiches and downed a beer, exhaustion overtook me. The day had started too early and involved too much drama. I stretched out on the bed and turned off the light. I remembered looking out the window at the stars blazing away in a crystal clear night and must have drifted off.
I started awake.
Someone was standing by the bed.
The faint illumination from the lamp on the driveway outlined Zach’s profile. He wore only a pair of shorts and his hair was slicked back wet, like he had just showered. I could see the well-defined contours of the muscles in his chest. Any other time I could be real interested in those muscles but now I tensed, waiting to see what he was going to do. I didn’t have long to wait.
“Time to get up,” he said with no more effort than was needed for a night time conversation.
I propped up on one elbow. “What time is it?”
“Around four A.M. We’re pulling out.”
“Do I get to brush my teeth?” I felt cranky and difficult. And not refreshed at all.
“If you hurry.”
I pushed the hair out of my eyes and tried to finger comb it but ran into too many snarls. It would be impossible to untangle now.
He pulled me from the bed and headed me in the direction of the bathroom. “If you’re cooperative, I’ll buy you a coffee.”
I slammed the bathroom door again. That was beginning to feel really good.
Seven
We watched the sun come up over Chrysochou Bay on the northwest tip of Cyprus. A new day dawned. I didn’t know where my aunt was, I had no cell phone, I was sleep deprived, the police were looking for me, and my kidnapper thought I was a thief.
We had stopped at a café in Polis, a town right on the bay, and sat outside at a small table shaded by a mimosa tree in bloom. The café was no different from hundreds of cafes frequented by Cypriot men drinking coffee, a national past time. I was the only woman as other sane tourist women were no doubt sleeping. Cypriot women didn’t do the café thing.
I was nursing my second small cup of the black tar they call Greek coffee. From the corner sundries store across from the café, afro pop music blared from a CD player. It was a little early in the morning for that level of noise. But it was a catchy tune, and I tapped my fingers on the table top in time with a female rapper who sang in French.
Breakfast arrived as Zach sat down across from me. He had phone calls to make and left, I guess, to have a private conversation. We were the only two tourists in the café accompanied by several Cypriot men engaged in noisy conversation.
“Who’d you call?” I asked, not that I expected a civil answer. I shoved eggs and potatoes in alternate forkfuls into my mouth. I was starved. Adversity had not affected my appetite.
My kidnapper, as I thought of him now, hadn’t said two words the whole trip down from the Troodos Mountains. I had slept most of the way, or tried to while my head banged on the window that I was using as a pillow.
He gave me his half smile like he was trying to decide if he would take me into his confidence or not. “I had to report yesterday’s incident. This morning was the first time I was able to get through.”
Incident? He looked so nonchalant about murder. Two people were dead, and he was reporting an incident. Cool customer. I wondered what he was going to do with me. Being in an altered state, it was hard to get up enough energy to care. He didn’t look any the worse for sleeping in the Rover last night. I figured he thought I would steal it and make my getaway. So much for the sizzling sparks I thought were flying between us.
His wet hair had dried, but he must have used the unfriendly hotel soap because he sported the same wild flyaway hair. That and his unshaven jaw gave him a piratical look. But his unsmiling face said he was angry about something. He sat with his shoulders hunched over like he was guarding a secret.
“I want to call Yannis,” I said, laying down my fork and heaving a satisfied sigh. At least my belly was happy.
Zach chewed silently, studying my face. He didn’t respond but washed down a swallow with a coffee chaser.
“I need to know what is going on and let Yannis know that I’m okay.” I didn’t say safe, just okay.
Zach fished in his pocket, pulled out my cell phone and handed it to me.
“Don’t give him any more information than that. Not right now.”
This guy was something. What did he possibly think I could do by calling Yannis? Unless he thought that Yannis might be in on the smuggling ring. I was afraid of that. That’s probably why he permitted me the call. Two thieves making contact.
I hoped I could catch Yannis before he went to work.
“Ney, ney.”
“Yannis.”
“Princess? Where are you? Are you all right? We are worried to death about you.”
“I’m okay. Have you heard anything about my aunt?”
“Nothing. She seems to have disappeared into thin air. The police were here after you left, and they want you to come in for questioning.”
“Don’t think I will right now.”
“They have an all points bulletin out on you. You are on a wanted list.”
“Me? Gosh, that sounds kind of criminal.”
“If you don’t want them to find you, you better lay low. This is a small country. With your movie star lo
oks, people will recognize you if the police post a photo of you.”
“You didn’t give them one, did you?”
“Not yet. But if they keep the pressure on I may have to. Our police are very efficient. We don’t have a high crime rate and don’t want one. They appear to be getting extremely impatient with the smuggling ring and are eager to make some arrests and have done with it.”
“Gosh.” I didn’t know what else to say. This all sounded so serious. Up until yesterday morning I thought this would be an open and shut case, but now two people were dead. Things were a lot more complicated.
“Where are you?” Yannis asked.
An innocent enough question.
I looked at Zach who was listening to every word, of course. “Hold on a second, Yannis.” I put my hand over the mouthpiece.
“Yannis says there’s a bulletin out on me and wants to know where I am. Are you going to let me go?”
I felt stupid asking permission but this guy had the gun, after all.
He shook his head. “Let me talk to him.” He reached for the phone. I reluctantly handed it over.
“Hi, Yannis. Claudie is fine. She stopped and asked for my help yesterday. I’m taking good care of her.” He smiled at me like he was doing a good job of it. “Yes, we’re making the best of an unfortunate situation.”
He listened for a moment, then said, “Better we don’t tell you where we are.”
Poor Yannis. I know he was thinking the worst. He had warned me about Zach, but for the wrong reasons. I wanted to snatch the phone away and pour out the whole long, pitiful story to Yannis, but Zach had the cell phone firmly in his grip.
“We need to do some investigating of our own. Can you give me the address of Mrs. Crawford, the English widow you went to see?” He patted his pocket. “Got a pen?” he said to me.
I rummaged in my purse and came up with a bright purple one. He scribbled on his napkin. “You don’t happen to have the address of the Italian, what’s his name? Bellomo? Okay, thanks. You have the number here. Sure, call anytime.”
He clicked off without letting me talk again and stuffed the cell phone back in his pocket.
“The police may have tapped his phone. Let’s hope they don’t have a GPS that can locate the position of the phone signal. I’m not surprised you’re on a bulletin.”
“Doesn’t that make me a criminal?” I asked.
“Not exactly. You haven’t been convicted of anything. Yet.” He smirked at me, like it was only a matter of time. He sounded so pleasant.
“More investigating today?”
“You bet. We’ll find the car rental place and see if we can track down the Maruti. Then we’ll call on the Crawford widow, see what she knows.”
That sounded okay to me. “This won’t involve any bullets, will it? What about burying your friends?”
“No bullets. None planned anyway. I didn’t wear my vest today.”
He pulled his shirt up so I could see his tight abs. Was he doing that on purpose? I could have been wrong, but he seemed conflicted about our relationship. I could see it in his eyes. Maybe that was why he was so irritable. He wanted the bait but he didn’t like the barb that came with it. The irony was that the barb was of his making. I wasn’t a thief.
He dropped his shirt. “Max and Irene are being taken care of. Don’t worry. You ready?”
He paid the check, and we walked toward the Land Rover. I put my hand on his arm to stop him. He looked at my hand, then into my eyes.
“What’s going on?” I said. “I feel like a prisoner. Is that a correct reading?”
“No, it is not. I have you under my protection.”
“I’m not sure that’s a comfort. What about Yannis?”
“What about him?”
“You aren’t thinking he is in this, are you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m keeping an open mind.”
That sounded like a yes to me.
Then he did something unexpected. He put his hand on my neck and stroked my cheek with his thumb. His touch sent shivers through me like the touch of Dracula, sexy but with the potential for a lethal bite. I forced myself to focus on our conversation and pulled his hand away.
“Yannis is an upstanding citizen. He would never do anything like this.”
“Yannis has access to crucial information with his job in the antiquities department.”
“So you ran a background check on him, too?”
Zach nodded.
I searched his eyes for some clue that this was all a joke, but I only found dead serious in the dark shadows.
“Look,” I said, “I promise I won’t try to get away, if you promise to keep an open mind. We’re both trying to find out who did this to my aunt, so why don’t we cooperate?”
“I like that.”
“We’re a team.”
“It’s a deal… Princess.”
His using Yannis’s term of affection gave me pause. I searched his eyes looking for any sign that there was a decent human being inside. The moment passed, and I turned away without an answer.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“For a morning swim until the car rental agency opens. You up for it?”
A morning swim sounded cold but all right with me, as long as it didn’t involve bullets. Where was that blue Maruti and whoever was shooting at us back at the safe house?
“Okay,” I said, “as long as it’s an isolated beach. I need to stay out of the limelight and away from people who have TVs and radios.”
We headed out of town on the road going south toward Pafos.
“The beaches along Lara Bay are isolated,” Zach said, “and they’re on the way. We’ll go there.”
I knew where he meant but was surprised he knew about the Lara beaches. They were not on the usual tourist routes. This man knew more about the island than he let on. I didn’t think my asking how he knew so much would give me a straight answer. But I wondered about it just the same.
The car rental agency was on the north side of Pafos. We were making a giant circle of the West end of the island and would end up back where we started yesterday, a yesterday that had happened centuries ago. There were so many questions not answered. I took deep breaths of the cool morning air flowing in the open windows of the car and tried to stay calm. I was running on adrenaline.
We turned west onto a badly maintained gravel track with rocks the size of footballs in the middle. Zach dodged them with skill but the effort produced a wrenching that made my head nearly hit the ceiling several times. The road wound along a cliff with spectacular views. Zach stopped so we could admire the vast expanse of blue sea sparkling with precious gems.”
I loved Cyprus. I watched the sun play over the water, the wind shoving it into waves. I loved its beauty and its peace and calm and the people, and I hated that I had gotten into this mess. Smuggling didn’t go with the beauty and tranquility of the island. When I found out who the culprits were, I was going to make them pay, if I had any say in the matter.
We stopped at a small cove at the bottom of the cliff. There wasn’t a soul around, not even a lizard in sight. I jumped down from the Rover to have a look. The sand was coarse and heating up. I could tell by the light blue of the water the cove was shallow. I had never been here, and I thought I knew all the coves along Lara Bay. From our position I judged it to be above the turtle hatchery, a popular tourist spot along the west coast of the island north of Coral Bay.
I didn’t happen to be wearing my bikini briefs so I pulled open the back door to get my pack and rummaged around for my bottoms. Zach did the same. Our eyes met over the back seat.
“Going topless today?”
Did I catch a gleam of hope in those big brown eyes?
“I never bring tops to Cyprus.” I pulled my shirt up over my head. I hadn’t bothered with a bra this morning. The actress in me was in overdrive. I had missed my calling. I could have sworn I heard a loud suck of breath as my arms went over my head, and i
t wasn’t from my mouth. I unzipped my shorts and looked over to see if Zach was still watching.
He was.
I dropped them. “You going to hang in for the finale?” I hooked my fingers through my thong ready to strip.
He half smiled and pulled his shirt over his head. I chickened out and turned my back, slipping off my thong and pulling on my bikini. He won that round.
Nude bathing was not unheard of around the island and not infrequently I had been on beaches where whole families bathed in the nude, usually the Scandinavians, certainly not the Cypriots. But I found some amount of modesty can be sexy so I elected for bottoms for this swim.
Zach did not. He wore not a stitch.
I watched the real attractive end of him head into the water ahead of me. I had a weakness for nice buns. These were exceptional.
I waded in, gasping at the chilly temperature of the Mediterranean in May, scanned the water for undesirable sea creatures like nettles then swam out toward the deep blue water.
Zach swam ahead of me with long powerful strokes like he had a destination. I followed slower then rolled on my back and floated, my hair fanning out around me in the water, the sun warm on my breasts. What a way to live. If I didn’t end up in a Cypriot prison with my aunt, I’d move to this lovely island. I certainly could manage the mutual fund from here.
The mutual fund.
I hadn’t thought about it in over twenty-four hours, and I was to have called Lena yesterday. Geez, it wasn’t any big deal, because Lena could handle the fund without me for a few days. She might be worried, but I was sure that Yannis would have filled her in if she had called his house. I couldn’t believe I had totally forgotten.
I did some surface dives, looking around the rocky sea bottom for ancient treasures someone may have missed, then remembered why I was here, and the allure of antiquities dimmed.
I surfaced, swiped the hair from my eyes, and came face to face with Mr. NYPD.
The Forty Column Castle Page 7