The Lady of Tarpon Springs

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The Lady of Tarpon Springs Page 15

by Judith Miller


  “Because I care about you.” He smiled at the other diver. “Besides, I don’t want your wife to come after me with a rolling pin.”

  CHAPTER

  16

  The following afternoon, Lucy removed a sheet of paper from her desk and carefully penned several questions. She didn’t want to forget what had plagued her since discovering that her father had invested in the sponging business. Hopefully, Mr. Pappas would answer at least some of her queries. She was reviewing the list when the front door opened and a short-statured man with dark hair and a thin mustache entered the office.

  She stood. “Mr. Pappas?”

  “Dr. Penrose?”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling. “Please, have a seat.” He sat down in the chair opposite her desk as she returned to her seat. “I’m glad to finally have an opportunity to speak with you.”

  He shifted in the chair. “As I told Miss Krykos, I have very little I can share that you don’t already know.”

  She tilted her head. “Well, since you have no idea what I do or don’t know about my father’s dealings, please, indulge me.”

  He placed his elbows on the armrests, laced his fingers together, and tented them beneath his pointed chin. “That is why I am here, Doctor.”

  His lackluster smile said otherwise, but Lucy wasn’t going to be deterred. “I was curious why you haven’t been in Tarpon Springs for some time. Are you no longer a sponge buyer for your New York clients?”

  He tapped his steepled fingers against his chin. “I said I would indulge your questions, but I didn’t know you planned to inquire about anything other than my contacts with your father. Unless your questions are pertinent to issues surrounding your father, I find them rather intrusive.”

  “I apologize, but I’ve been eager to talk to you, and Mr. Francis indicated you came to Tarpon Springs on a regular basis. Your recent lack of an appearance made me wonder why you would stay away.”

  “And you immediately thought my absence had something to do with your father.” He met her gaze with a hard stare. “Am I right?”

  “The thought didn’t immediately come to mind, but when others questioned your absence, I became concerned, yes.”

  He arched his brows. “Others? You mean Miss Krykos?”

  “No, not directly.” Lucy leaned back in her chair. “I asked Zanna to see if she could gain any information about why you hadn’t been in Tarpon Springs. She merely passed along the information she gained from Mr. Vernaky, the proprietor of the hotel, and some of the other men who work at the docks. They all told her they hadn’t heard from you lately and that they’d never known you to stay away for so long.”

  “Hmm, it’s good to know I was missed.” His words bore a hint of sarcasm. “I was attending to a personal matter, if you must know. I trust you won’t expect me to go into the details, Dr. Penrose.”

  “No, of course not.” Discomfort now plaguing her, she glanced at the sheet of paper on her desk. Before she could object, he reached forward and retrieved the document.

  He glanced at the page and looked up. “These are your questions for me?”

  “Yes.” She folded her hands and placed them atop the desk and waited.

  He pushed the paper back toward her. “I am sorry for your father’s death, but you need to understand that we were not friends. I couldn’t even say we were well acquainted. He came to me and asked for my help because he wanted to invest in a sponging business. I sent letters to Greece for him. He never advised me if he’d been successful in his business dealings and, quite honestly, I didn’t even know he had a daughter. Though I would like to, I can’t take credit for the wisdom of his investment.”

  “Wisdom? He’s left me with an albatross around my neck, and you want to talk about wisdom?”

  “In the future, you may be thankful for his wise investment. If I had the money, I would make an offer to purchase the business before nightfall. Perhaps one day I will be able to do so.”

  A flicker of hope quieted her doubts. “That’s good to know, Mr. Pappas. I hope—”

  The front door opened with a clatter, and Bessie Rochester bounded into the room with her sisters following on her heels. “Adelfo!” She bustled toward the Greek sponge buyer and reached for his hand. “You naughty boy. Why didn’t you come by the house when you arrived in town?” She looked at Lucy. “Sorry to interrupt, but Zanna told me Adelfo was here, and I couldn’t believe my ears.” She tapped her index finger to her right eye. “But these eyes don’t deceive me. Zanna was right.”

  Eugenia and Viola positioned themselves on the other side of Mr. Pappas’s chair. With the desk in front of him, Bessie on one side and the other two sisters on the other, he couldn’t have escaped if his life depended on it. And from the look on his face, Lucy thought he wanted nothing more than a quick getaway. At first blush, she’d been annoyed by the sisters’ interruption, but this was proving far more interesting than anything she’d learned from Mr. Pappas thus far.

  Lucy graced the imprisoned man with a bright smile. “I wasn’t aware you were acquainted with the Rochester sisters. They are some of my very best patients.”

  All three women beamed at her while Mr. Pappas squirmed in his chair. “We became acquainted when I was in Tarpon Springs on one of my early sponge-buying trips. The ladies—”

  “We were having tea in the hotel dining room, and Mr. Pappas joined us,” Eugenia said.

  Mr. Pappas sighed at the interruption. “If I recall, Bessie asked me to join you.”

  Viola placed a gloved hand over her lips and giggled. “Bessie thought he looked mysterious.” She tapped her finger beside her right eye. “If I recall, she said his dark eyes and black wavy hair intrigued her.”

  “Hush, Viola.” Bessie glowered at her sister.

  Eugenia frowned. “Why does Viola need to hush? It’s the truth. That’s what you said.”

  Lucy forced a smile. “Did any of you need to see me, or did you stop by only to see Mr. Pappas?” If she didn’t do something quickly, the ladies would end up in one of their disagreements, which could last for days.

  “We came to invite him for supper this evening.” Eugenia edged closer to Mr. Pappas’s chair.

  “Eugenia, I said I was going to extend the invitation.” Bessie folded her arms across her chest and glared at Eugenia.

  “Ladies! Ladies! Please.” Mr. Pappas placed a finger to his lips. “I will be happy to join you for supper tonight, but only if you cease your arguing and promise there will be nothing but pleasant conversation once I arrive.”

  They all three bobbed their heads and agreed they’d be on their best behavior, but when Viola and Eugenia stepped toward the door, Bessie lagged behind. She leaned close to Mr. Pappas’s ear and whispered.

  Eugenia glanced over her shoulder as she neared the door. “Bessie! Quit your whispering.” She tsked and looked at Lucy. “Bessie thinks he cares for her more than either of us.”

  Bessie’s ample figure blocked Mr. Pappas’s view of the door, though he leaned forward to gain a look at Eugenia. “You are all lovely, and I am a friend to all three of you.”

  Viola straightened her shoulders, and Eugenia’s nose lifted several notches. His comment had hit the mark and pleased them. Bessie, however, frowned and landed a quick jab to his shoulder—a gesture Lucy didn’t miss. There was something more to this friendship. Something Lucy didn’t quite understand, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out what it was.

  After the foursome had departed, Lucy barely had time to consider the curious happenings before Zanna appeared. She glanced around the room. “Didn’t Mr. Pappas keep his appointment? I reminded him, and he promised he’d be here.”

  “He’s been here and gone. He and the Rochester sisters. I’m surprised you didn’t bump into them. They left only minutes ago.”

  “Oh no! That’s my fault. They asked me if I knew where he was, and I mentioned his appointment with you.” She hurried across the room and plopped down in the chair recently vacated
by Mr. Pappas. “Can you believe they’re friends?”

  “You knew?” Lucy leaned forward. “How did you find out?”

  Zanna related Eugenia’s tale of having knitted socks for Mr. Pappas two years ago. “Since Mr. Pappas has some dislike or allergic reaction to wool, Nico is now the proud owner of a pair of wool socks. I doubt he’ll find much use for them in the Florida heat.” Zanna giggled and shook her head. “When Nico and I were on the dock with Mr. Pappas, I asked him about his friendship with the sisters.”

  “What did he say?”

  “The boats were coming in, and he said it was a story for another day. I’m not sure what that means, but there wasn’t opportunity to ask further questions.”

  Lucy pushed away from her desk. “I gathered the three of them were in the hotel for tea some time ago and Bessie asked Mr. Pappas to join them. A rather odd happenstance, since the sisters don’t generally take up with strangers.” She frowned. “Don’t you think?”

  Zanna nodded. “I do. Perhaps I can learn a bit more if I have a visit with them.”

  “I’m not so sure you should speak with them as a group. Bessie seems to have a genuine affinity for Mr. Pappas. You might do best if you direct your questions to Viola or Eugenia.”

  “Now that I think about it, Eugenia did refer to him as Bessie’s friend.”

  “They all seemed pleased to see him, but Bessie whispered something in his ear once the other two were out of earshot.” Lucy stood and picked up her bag. “I need to call on John Osgood. His wife says he’s too sick to come to the office. Want to walk along?”

  “I need to go to my office and then to the warehouse, but I can walk a short distance with you. I came to ask you if Mr. Pappas answered any of your questions.”

  Lucy sighed. She longed to tell her friend that Mr. Pappas had been a fount of information, yet his meager responses had been as stunted as a dried-up fruit tree. “He didn’t explain things with any more clarity than you’d already surmised. His interest in purchasing the company was the only positive thing to come out of our conversation.”

  Zanna gasped. “He actually offered to buy the company?”

  “No, not now, but he said he would if he had the money. It sounded as though he was going to try to secure funds so he could make a genuine offer. I know you don’t approve, but I think it would be grand if we could both go back to the way things were before: me practicing medicine and you practicing law, and neither of us responsible for the welfare of fifty immigrants.” Lucy stopped at the corner. “The Osgoods live on Read Street. I believe this is where we part ways.”

  Lucy’s words rang in Zanna’s ears like a death knell. Were they parting in more ways than one? When she reached the corner of Orange Street, she turned down Tarpon Avenue. While she’d done her best to convince Lucy that selling wasn’t the best decision, the warnings continued to fall upon deaf ears. Lucy’s excitement over a possible sale had been palpable.

  A heaviness weighed on her. If Lucy sold the business, would Nico and the other men be treated well? Mr. Pappas was a man who knew the business, yet he only seemed interested in making money. She bowed her head against a stiff breeze and was pulled back when someone grasped her hand outside Alderman’s Dry Goods.

  “You look like you’ve lost your last friend.” Viola Rochester’s shrill voice cut like a knife.

  “Viola! You startled me.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you, but I thought you might walk into Mr. Alderman’s display if I didn’t stop you.” The older woman pointed to an arrangement of boxes sitting atop a table outside the store. “There would have been fruit everywhere if you’d bumped into that table.” She tipped her head closer. “That table’s as rickety as Bessie when she’s using her parasol as a cane.”

  Zanna chuckled. “Thank you for saving me from certain disaster, Viola. I would have been here all day picking up oranges and apples.”

  “Tut, tut. We all get lost in our thoughts from time to time.” Viola picked up several oranges and examined them. “Bessie sent me to purchase a few items. We’re having Mr. Pappas join us for supper tonight.” She sighed. “I don’t think we really needed anything extra, but you can’t argue with Bessie. I think she just wanted to get rid of Eugenia and me so she could be alone with Mr. Pappas.”

  “And where is Eugenia?”

  “She said she wasn’t interested in going anywhere except back home. Bessie did her best to send her along with me, but Eugenia wouldn’t be persuaded. Sometimes I think Eugenia is as smitten with Mr. Pappas as Bessie is.”

  “Smitten? You think they view Mr. Pappas as a love interest?”

  The older women lifted her gloved fingers to her mouth and tittered. “I do, but I don’t think Mr. Pappas cares for either of them—at least not in that way.” She glanced around as if she expected one of her sisters to suddenly appear. “Don’t tell either of them I’ve told you any of this or I’ll hear no end to it.”

  “Not a word.” Zanna touched her index finger to her pursed lips. “And what about you, Viola? Do you care for Mr. Pappas, too?”

  “Although he’s a nice gentleman, I’m no fool. He doesn’t call on Bessie because he has any thoughts of marriage—at least not to any of us. He’s a businessman, and his interest lies in making money. That’s all he talks about when he comes to visit.”

  Zanna frowned. Why would he discuss moneymaking ventures with the Rochester sisters? She wanted to quiz Viola further, but they were interrupted when Mrs. Alderman came to the front door of the store. “I have your order ready, Viola.” Her focus dropped to the oranges in the woman’s hand. “Did you want to add those to your account?”

  The older woman nodded and scurried inside.

  Zanna sighed. It seemed there was something more to Mr. Pappas’s friendship with the Rochester sisters—or at least with Bessie—so what was it?

  On Friday morning, Zanna and Nico were at the warehouse. The sponges harvested from their first excursions into the Gulf would be auctioned this morning. Their sponges were strung on couleurs and placed in piles at one end of the dock, while the sponges harvested by hook boats were displayed farther down. Zanna strode outside as some of the buyers arrived. The comments were encouraging.

  She straightened her shoulders and moved among the buyers, who were busy examining their sponges. Only a narrow wandering walkway remained among the heaping product.

  With a reserved smile, Zanna gestured to several of the buyers. “These are from our first excursion into the Gulf. We will have many more cleaned and ready for sale in a short time, however. I hope you will become accustomed to looking first at what the Penrose Sponge Company has to offer.”

  The men didn’t comment until Nico arrived at her side. Then they spouted one question after another. She offered another demure smile. “He doesn’t speak much English. I’ll be happy to interpret your questions.”

  Nico shook his head. “I am learning.” He gestured for the men to continue. “Speak slowly and I will understand.”

  Mr. Pappas stepped out from the crowd of buyers. He placed an arm around Nico’s shoulder but directed a hard stare at Zanna. “You should let him attempt to talk to the buyers himself. He won’t become confident with the language unless you give him an opportunity.”

  Zanna frowned at him. “They speak too rapidly for him to understand.”

  “These men aren’t accustomed to having a woman in their midst. Why don’t you go inside? I’ll be glad to interpret for him.”

  She stiffened at his tone. “Thank you for your offer, Mr. Pappas, but I think the fact that you, too, are a buyer might raise a few eyebrows.” She wrinkled her nose. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re involved with the Penrose Sponge Company as anything other than a possible buyer of our product, would we?” She gestured toward their display. “But I would be delighted to have you bid on our sponges.”

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself. I thought I might be of help. I trust you understand how the bidding process works.


  “I had a long talk with Mr. Francis and the auctioneer earlier this morning. They’ve explained everything to me.”

  He tipped his hat, turned, and walked away.

  Nico pointed after Mr. Pappas. “Where is he going? I wanted to ask him about the bidding.”

  “No need. I know how it’s done.” She directed him to the far end of the dock where she’d had the men move their sponges.

  “Why did you have them move our strings to the end of the dock?” He frowned. “Everyone will make their purchases and leave before they come clear down to this spot.”

  “Not true. We drew for lots earlier this morning, and we were fortunate to get this spot. Mr. Francis said the sponges in the first lots bring a much lower price because the buyers tend to hold back at the beginning to see how the competition is bidding.” She tipped her head to meet his eyes. “We’re going to do well. Trust me.”

  “I’m trying, but sometimes you make it most difficult.”

  Before she could reply, the Exchange bell clanged to alert buyers the sale was about to begin. She grasped Nico’s arm and squeezed. “It’s time for the sale to begin. I’ve been praying this goes well. You should do the same.”

  The auctioneer stood near the first lot and announced there were ten strings with five wool, twenty yellow, and one glove sponge on each string. The auctioneer stepped away and allowed the buyers to further examine and feel the sponge. The crew and captain stood nearby, their eyes shining with anticipation. Once the buyers had completed their examination, the auctioneer shouted for bids. Several buyers scribbled on slips of paper and handed them in.

  The auctioneer shouted, “Everybody in?” A few more men hurried forward to hand him their bids. Other buyers continued to examine the lot, and the auctioneer called out, “One more!” Finally, when all bids had been turned in, the auctioneer walked into the warehouse, read the slips, and quickly returned to announce the highest bid and price.

  The captain stepped forward. “I’m refusing the bid. We’ll put them back in storage and bring them back when there are buyers who can see what my sponges are worth.” He stalked off, shaking his head.

 

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