Once the crewmen were in position, Nico jumped off the deck of the Anastasi and surveyed the sponges that remained on the dock. The harvests from both the St. Nicolas and Crete were bountiful. For that he was grateful. He’d need to make some decisions about future voyages. His presence was needed for the sales at the Exchange, but he’d have to determine if his diving skills were of greater importance. Unless he changed the schedule, the boats were to sail again next week.
“How is your diver faring?” A hand clasped his shoulder, and the familiar scent of cigar smoke wafted toward him. Mr. Pappas nodded toward the men carrying the sponges to the warehouse. “The crew of the Anastasi believes you’ve lost confidence in them.”
Nico hiked a shoulder. “I haven’t lost confidence. I just don’t know what exactly is going on, and they refuse to be honest with me. They even lied about Felix.” His disappointment in the men outweighed any concern over their limited harvest.
“Let me talk to them. I’ll come to the camp tonight and play music with them. Afterward, perhaps I can discover who is telling the truth.”
The offer came as a surprise, yet Nico didn’t have a better plan at the moment. The crews enjoyed the company of Mr. Pappas, and the older man could weave an interesting story. On his last visit, he’d promised to tell them how a poor Greek had become a success in New York City. Perhaps an encouraging story and a bit of entertainment was what they all needed right now. It certainly couldn’t hurt, could it?
CHAPTER
18
Rather than go to the docks and wait for the boats to come in, Zanna quickly changed her plans when she caught sight of Viola Rochester strolling along Pinellas Avenue. Seeing Viola out and about by herself was a rare sight. Truth be told, seeing any Rochester sister on her own was an unusual occurrence.
Besides, other than lending moral support or cheering for the crews, there was little she could do during the unloading process. She did wonder if the Anastasi would return with a full load, but one look at Nico would be enough to relay that news. And who could say when she might have another opportunity to visit with Viola when her sisters weren’t in tow?
The peacock feathers adorning Viola’s hat waved like children in their Sunday finery. Always on the lookout for a way to appear taller, Viola had likely chosen the hat because of its towering height. No matter if her chapeau wasn’t in style. If it added a few inches to her stature, she would purchase and wear the item. She held the same belief with shoes—at least she had until two years ago, when she’d broken her ankle wearing a pair with extremely high heels. Bessie had avowed the shoes were made for ladies of the night, not the ladies of Tarpon Springs, but Viola hadn’t listened. Ultimately, she’d suffered the consequences of a broken ankle and, even worse, was required to listen to Bessie say “I told you so” until the ankle finally healed.
Zanna flashed a smile and waved as she strode toward the older woman. A moment passed before Viola’s features softened with a look of recognition, and she waved in return.
When she drew near, her shrill voice pierced the morning quietude with an overly loud greeting. “Good morning, Zanna. Out for a bit of fresh air?”
“I need to go to the docks a little later, but when I saw you approaching, I thought it might be nice to ask if you’d join me for a cup of tea or coffee at the bakery. We seldom have an opportunity to visit. If you have time, of course.” She hesitated a moment. “Or are you busy with errands of your own?”
“I’m busy with errands, yes, but not for myself. You may recall the Women’s Club is scheduled for our quarterly cleanup chores at the cemetery this afternoon.” She drew herself up to her full height. “I’m in charge of the Cemetery Committee, you know.”
“I do recall you were elected to that prestigious position during last year’s election. However, I didn’t realize the cleanup was scheduled for today.”
“Tut, tut, you younger ladies are busy with your own work. Unlike my sister Bessie, I admire you and Lucy Penrose, as well as the schoolteachers and a few other young ladies who have attended college and aren’t afraid to step into businesses usually controlled by men.” She shook her head. “Just look at my sisters and me. If our father hadn’t been wealthy, where would we be? All three of us spinsters and no training to work outside the home. We’d be in a real pickle. I’ve said as much to Bessie, but she just shushes me.” Viola lowered her voice. “She thinks she knows everything, but she doesn’t.”
“I certainly don’t want to interfere with your cleanup duties, Viola. Perhaps we can have coffee another time?”
Viola checked the timepiece pinned to her bodice. “No reason we can’t go now. I can gather up the tools and take them to the cemetery after we have our coffee.” She grinned. “And a cinnamon roll. Mrs. Caldwell bakes the best cinnamon rolls in the entire state.”
They turned east onto Tarpon Avenue, and once inside the bakery, settled themselves at one of the small wood tables. The mouth-watering aroma of every imaginable yeasty confection wafted out the front door and drew customers inside like bees to honey. Mrs. Caldwell and her daughter bustled through the shop, filling coffee cups and committing orders to memory rather than taking the time to write them down.
Nora Caldwell stopped at their table. “Ladies, what can I get for you this morning?”
After they’d placed their orders, Viola licked her lips in obvious anticipation of the sugary treat. “How are you enjoying your work with that fine-looking young Greek that saved Eugenia’s life?” She leaned forward and winked. “He might make a good husband for you. From what I’ve been told, he’s a hard worker and really knows the sponging business.”
“And who has been filling your ears with tales about Nico?” Zanna asked.
“Adelfo Pappas. He says a wise person would use their money to purchase the business from Dr. Lucy.”
Zanna’s heart pumped a rapid beat. She’d wanted to question Viola about Mr. Pappas but worried there wouldn’t be a proper opportunity. Viola had opened the door even wider than Zanna had hoped. The older woman’s words had sent a sliver of fear coursing down her spine. What was Mr. Pappas up to? While he’d expressed an interest in buying out Lucy, she had no idea he might be encouraging others to do so.
“What else has Mr. Pappas said about the business?” Zanna’s voice broke, betraying her.
Viola reached across the table and covered her hand. “Do you need a drink of water, dear? Your complexion is pale, and your voice warbled when you spoke.” Without waiting for a response, Viola pushed away from the table and hurried to the counter with her peacock feathers flapping overhead. She soon returned with a glass of water. “Drink this. Dr. Lucy says water is good for everything.”
Zanna didn’t argue. She downed the glass of water and thanked Viola. “I’m fine. I think the heat overwhelmed me for a moment.”
“Let’s move to a table near the door where we’ll get a breeze.” The older woman gathered her gloves and pocketbook. Zanna stood and followed her. Viola pulled out a chair and motioned Zanna to the opposite side of the table. “This will be much better, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, thank you,” Zanna said, sitting down again.
Nora then arrived with their orders. Once the waitress scurried away, Zanna turned her attention back to Viola. “Let’s see now . . . what were we talking about?” She lifted a finger in the air. “Oh, I know. I asked you what else Mr. Pappas had told you about the sponging business.”
Viola’s forehead creased into tiny lines. “I think he’s up to his old tricks again.”
“When we recently spoke at Alderman’s, you did mention that Mr. Pappas talks about money a great deal. Has that continued?”
She nodded. “He knows we inherited our father’s wealth, and while I don’t believe he’s interested in marriage, Bessie thinks differently.” Viola tsked. “She says she’s the one who got the brains in our family, but that’s not true when it comes to men. Both she and Eugenia think he’d make an excellent catch. Yet I don’t
think either of them has a hook that’s big enough to hold him.” She giggled until tears traced down her cheeks and fell onto her bodice. She withdrew a lace-edged handkerchief from her pocket and patted her eyes. “I know it isn’t kind to laugh at them, but they’re making fools of themselves.”
Zanna took a sip of her tea and nodded. There were other questions she wanted to ask but worried that if she interrupted, Viola would decide she’d already divulged too much private information.
After cutting a bite of her cinnamon roll, Viola forked it into her mouth and sighed. “I could eat these every day.”
Viola continued to extol the delights of her cinnamon roll until Zanna could no longer remain silent. “In what way is he making fools of them, Viola? If he simply calls at the house and his company is enjoyable, there’s no harm done, is there?”
“He wants more than company. He wants money. I told you before that all he talks about is investing money in this business or that business and how he’s going to make a fortune, and how he’d do the same for the three of us if we’d only follow his advice.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, that isn’t going to happen. At least not with my share of the inheritance. I suppose Bessie and Eugenia can do as they like, but if they give their money to him, they’d better not come running to me to support them when they don’t have a penny to their names.”
“Now, now. I know that isn’t true, Viola. You’re too kindhearted to turn your back on your sisters.” Zanna poured more tea into her cup.
“That’s probably true enough. Still, you’d think Bessie would have more sense. She hasn’t seen any profit from the money she’s already given him to invest for her.” She leaned in. “On top of that, she made him a loan. She’s asked for repayment, but she hasn’t seen a cent.”
“Oh dear.” Zanna’s mind reeled. “Well, let’s hope that he does repay her.” Her stomach twisted in a tight knot. To hear that Bessie Rochester had given Mr. Pappas money to invest on her behalf, and that she’d also loaned him money, was difficult to believe. Zanna had never pictured Bessie as a woman who could be easily deceived. And perhaps Mr. Pappas hadn’t been deceptive. Yet, she marveled at the fact that Bessie would continue to listen to his investment schemes when the man had never repaid his outstanding debt.
Viola finished the last bite of her confection and wiped her lips. “Do you recall when Dr. Lucy was wanting to speak to Mr. Pappas and he stayed away from Tarpon Springs for so long?”
Zanna inwardly shuddered at the question. How could she forget? Lucy had been at her office on more than one occasion, inquiring after Mr. Pappas, before he finally appeared on the docks. “Of course I remember.”
Viola pursed her lips. “I think he stayed away all that time because he didn’t want to face Bessie. Mr. Pappas had told her that the next time he was in town, he’d have her money.” She shook her head. “Of course, he didn’t, but did that stop Bessie from inviting him to dinner and acting like an enamored schoolgirl? Not for a minute. And she’s still hanging on every word he says.”
Zanna wasn’t certain how to react. Investing in the sponging company would likely be a wise choice for the three sisters. However, if they wanted to purchase the company, they didn’t need Mr. Pappas. Was he hoping to use their money to purchase the business and then keep a share of the profits? Her thoughts churned as she attempted to sort through what Viola had told her.
Viola pushed aside her empty plate. “I don’t mean to sound harsh. Mr. Pappas is good company. There’s nobody who can tell a better story. But sometimes that’s what worries me. I believe what he tells us about investments is no more truthful than those make-believe stories he shares with us.” The older woman leaned back, folded her arms, and waited. There was little doubt she expected some sort of response.
Zanna remained uncertain how she should reply. She chased the crumbs of her cinnamon roll around the plate with her fork. Finally, she looked up and met Viola’s stare. “There’s likely reason for concern, Viola. Especially since Mr. Pappas hasn’t repaid Bessie’s loan. At this point, my only suggestion would be to pray and follow God’s leading.”
Viola finished the last sip of her tea and gave a firm nod. “Praying is always good advice, and I’ll see where the Lord leads me on this one. But if He has plans on my following Mr. Pappas’s financial advice, it’s going to take a thunderbolt to move me.” She chuckled as she picked up her gloves and carefully inserted her fingers into them to avoid tearing the lace edging.
“Thank you for joining me, Viola. We don’t get to visit often enough.” Zanna enjoyed spending time with all three of the Rochester sisters. They were as different as day and night, yet each one possessed admirable qualities. Together they could be quite a handful, but alone, each was a delight.
After bidding Zanna good-bye, Viola pushed up from her chair and turned toward the door. She’d taken only a few steps when she stopped and returned to the table. She leaned close to Zanna’s ear. “Promise me you’ll not repeat a word of our conversation to my sisters—or anyone else, for that matter. I don’t want Mr. Pappas to think I’m speaking ill of him until I’m completely certain he’s a scoundrel.”
Zanna grasped the old woman’s hand. “Your secrets are safe with me.”
Yet if he were indeed a scoundrel, did she dare keep such information from Lucy, or perhaps more importantly, Nico?
CHAPTER
19
Markos and several other men had carried Felix to the doctor’s office on a makeshift stretcher and then returned to help unload the three boats. Once they’d completed the task and the sponges had been delivered to the warehouse, Nico, Markos, and two of the pump handlers headed off toward the doctor’s office again. The pump handlers repeated their apologies as the four of them strode through town. As for Markos, he appeared quite sullen.
Nico slowed his step and came alongside the diver. “Is it Felix’s condition that has you brooding? You haven’t said two words since we left the warehouse.”
Markos kicked at a pebble and sent it skittering down the sidewalk. “No. I mean, I hope he doesn’t have any lasting effects from the dive, but that isn’t what I’ve been thinking about.”
“Care to tell me what’s troubling you?” Nico gave the man a sidelong glance.
Nico and Markos had never been close—not like Nico was with some of the other divers—but Markos and Felix seemed to share a bond. One that would have caused Markos to be overwrought by what had happened to his fellow diver.
“I feel like you don’t trust the crew of the Anastasi. You worry more about the size of our harvest than anything else. We don’t go out to the Gulf with thoughts of failure. You may not believe me, but we want to do as well as the crews on the Crete and St. Nicolas.”
“All right.” Nico rubbed his jawline. “Try to put yourself in my position, Markos. During your initial sailings, the harvests your crew brought back were excellent. Then something happened. Something I don’t understand. When I ask questions, I receive conflicting answers from the divers and the captain. The rest of the crew won’t give me any answers at all. What am I to think? How am I to trust? Who am I to believe?”
Markos frowned. “Felix and I have spoken the truth. It’s the captain who’s misleading you. He goes off in a different direction every time we sail.”
Nico remained skeptical about whether he was hearing the whole truth, though he’d become doubtful of the captain, as well. “I think the only way to gain a better understanding of what’s happening is for me to go out with the Anastasi on her next voyage. And with Felix unable to dive, I can take his place.”
The diver’s mouth fell open. “B-but . . . you shouldn’t be diving. If something happened to you, who would take charge of the business? None of us would want that woman ordering us around. There would be a mutiny—we’d return to Greece if she insisted on operating the company. You shouldn’t consider going out in the Gulf, Nico.”
“I need to stop here. Miss Krykos must accompany us in order to interp
ret. I don’t think any of us will be able to understand the doctor.”
Moments later, Nico returned with Zanna at his side. As they continued onward, he nudged Markos. “What were you saying?”
Markos shook his head. “Not now. We can talk later.”
Nico didn’t argue. Instead he detailed for Zanna what had happened to Felix as they hurried to the doctor’s office. Once they arrived, Nico led Zanna and the men into the office.
The bell over the front door jangled, and Lucy stepped from an adjoining office. She smiled at the group. “Thank you for coming along, Zanna. I want the men to understand what I have to tell them.” She directed her attention to the men. “I’m pleased you have come to inquire after your friend.”
Nico peered over Zanna’s head, attempting to gain a view into the examination room, but to no avail. “What can you tell us? Will he regain his sight? Was his hearing affected?”
Though Felix hadn’t mentioned any pain in his ears, Nico knew the increased water pressure could have caused his eardrums to rupture.
Lucy shook her head. “He complains of no problems with his hearing, and I didn’t note any, although I’m not certain he’s being forthright with me. His primary concern is whether he can dive again, not that he can hear.” She frowned at Nico. “A fact I find most disturbing.”
Nico took a backward step as Zanna related what had been said. The doctor glared at him as though he were responsible for instilling such an idea among his men. “I find that information worrisome, as well. Ask any of my crew members and they will tell you I have placed them under strict rules regarding their diving habits. I discourage any behaviors that would put my men at risk.”
One of the pump handlers bobbed his head. “That’s true, Doctor. I’ve never worked for another sponger who enforces as many rules as Nico.” He glanced about. “For all of us, not just the divers. He wants us all to be safe.”
The Lady of Tarpon Springs Page 17