The Lady of Tarpon Springs

by Judith Miller

  Bessie busied herself pouring more tea and straightening the napkin that lay across her lap. “He has borrowed money in the past and hasn’t repaid it, which has caused quite a rift between my sisters and me since I forgave the loan when we became engaged.” She sighed. “He admitted to a large amount of debt and wanted to wait to marry me until he could pay his creditors, but I agreed to pay those debts, as well.”

  “Oh, Bessie, I’m not sure that was wise. Did you give Mr. Pappas a large sum of money?”

  Bessie quickly explained she’d gone to Mr. Larson at the bank and arranged for him to pay the debts rather than give Mr. Pappas the money directly.

  “Mr. Larson wasn’t any more pleased with my decision than Viola and Eugenia. But I love Adelfo. At least I think I do, and I didn’t want him to go back to New York.” A tear formed in Bessie’s eye. “You probably think I’m a foolish old woman, yet I’ve always wanted to have a husband and children. I’m too old for children now, but I could still have a happy marriage.”

  Lucy moved to the sofa and placed her arm around Bessie’s shoulder. “If it’s with the right man who wants to marry you because he loves you, then you’re absolutely right. But you don’t want to marry a man who will take advantage and break your heart, do you?”

  She shook her head. “That’s why I decided I would pay another visit to Mr. Larson. I wanted a full accounting of the debts he’d paid for Adelfo, to make certain all was in order before I talked to the preacher about our wedding.”

  Lucy squeezed Bessie’s shoulder. “Was it your visit with Mr. Larson that caused you to question Mr. Pappas’s intentions?”

  “Yes. Mr. Larson told me that Adelfo had been to the bank a few days ago and was inquiring about his rights to my money once we’re married.”

  “What?” Lucy clasped both of Bessie’s hands in her own. “This isn’t good. He shouldn’t be asking about your assets before you’ve even set a wedding date. And he certainly shouldn’t be going to your banker behind your back. That alone should let you know he’s not trustworthy.”

  As Bessie bobbed her head, the tears began to flow. “I know, I know . . .” Her voice warbled like a baby bird chirruping for sustenance. “He asked if the money would be considered his to do with as he chose.” She hiccupped. “When I confronted him, he said Mr. Larson had exaggerated the conversation. Adelfo said his only concern was that if I became ill and unable to take care of my affairs that he would have the ability to do so for me.”

  Lucy curled her lip. “And you believe him?”

  “I know it’s foolish, but I want to believe him. I trust your opinion, Dr. Lucy. That’s why I asked you here today. I already know what my sisters and Mr. Larson think, but I think you can be more objective.”

  Lucy didn’t want to disappoint the woman, yet Bessie needed to accept the truth. Adelfo Pappas had only his own best interests at heart. He was a man bent upon gaining financial success at the expense of those around him. Bessie needed to send him packing.

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, Bessie, but you’ve asked for my opinion.” Before taking a final sip of tea, Lucy outlined the many reasons Bessie should end her engagement with Adelfo. “And if I were in your shoes, I would see if Mr. Larson is able to rescind any of those payments to Adelfo’s debtors. In fact, we could go to the bank right now.”

  Bessie removed a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes. “You’re right. In my heart, I knew he wasn’t in love with me, but I wanted to believe it so badly.”

  “I understand, Bessie. Everyone needs to be loved, but once we’ve put our faith in Jesus, we find we are truly loved—for now and for eternity.” Lucy helped the older woman to her feet and offered her a warm smile. “You’re going to be just fine, Bessie. Just fine.”

  CHAPTER

  27

  Once she’d completed her review of one of Mr. Burnside’s contracts, Zanna sat back and massaged her temples. After reading contracts for several days in a row, she needed a change. Turning toward the filing cabinet across the room, her focus settled on the stack of papers belonging to Lucy—the ones Zanna had pored over before the arrival of the Greek divers.

  She went to the cabinet and picked up the pile of documents that needed to be returned to Lucy. First, though, she’d get them in their proper order. Zanna’s many hours of searching the papers for some loophole that might serve Lucy’s interests had left the files in disarray. She began going through the documents, placing them in several piles. Mr. Penrose’s will and research notes concerning the authenticity, as well as any possibilities of having the will, set aside. The research in that regard had proved fruitless. Then she gathered the research regarding the contract with Nico and the letters exchanged between Mr. Pappas and Mr. Penrose.

  As she continued organizing, her thoughts shifted to her discussion with Nico when they’d gone to dinner the other night. He’d been honest with her. Once again, the Anastasi couldn’t be relied upon to bring in a full harvest each time she sailed. He’d questioned Peter at length, but to no avail.

  Her fingers rested atop one of the stacks while she recalled the entire conversation. Nico said Markos had clung to Peter’s side like an added appendage whenever Nico came around. And though he’d talked to Peter, there hadn’t yet been an opportunity to speak to him alone. Whether in the warehouse, on the dock, or in camp, Markos always remained close by. Zanna had dismissed the comments when Nico mentioned them, but now she wondered if Markos was afraid Peter had discovered some sort of information that would prove damaging to Markos should it become known. The lawyer in her wanted to get to the truth. Yet the truth seemed more and more difficult to uncover.

  She shook the thought from her mind and returned to the papers on her desk. She transferred them into separate folders. When she was lifting the final stack, a paper fluttered and landed on the floor. She captured the document between her fingers, placed it on her desk, and pressed it flat. Her breath caught. L. D. Vinson, Undertaker and Embalmer. In neat script below the engraved heading, Zanna read the words Embalming and Funeral Arrangements for Theo Hatzidakis. Paid in Full by Penrose Sponge Company. During one of her trips back and forth between the warehouse and her law office, Zanna must have inadvertently left the proof of payment in Lucy’s paper work.

  She folded the receipt in a reverent manner, as if doing so paid homage to Theo and his untimely death. He’d died far too young, and for what? Because he’d wanted to prove he could collect more sponges than Markos? Or was it something more? His dying words pierced her memory. He’d said he needed to find the treasure on the sunken ship. Had it been true? Was that why Theo died? Was that why Felix would remain an invalid the rest of his life? Was that why the Anastasi continued to reap unpredictable harvests?

  If there was any truth to what she was thinking, the spongers aboard the Anastasi would continue to suffer injuries and possible death. Would they really be so foolish? Perhaps she should speak to Lucy again. And yet Lucy had dismissed the matter, saying Theo had been delusional prior to his death. She’d even pulled out a medical book to prove her contention. No doubt she’d be offended if Zanna questioned her further. Maybe it would be better to talk with Nico. But if she mentioned it to him, he’d surely confront the men. If there was no merit to the deathbed confession, it could stir up problems among Nico and his men, and she didn’t want to be the cause of trouble with the crewmen.

  Zanna glanced at the clock. She’d be going home for supper in less than an hour and could discuss the matter with her father. He would be neutral and judge the matter solely on its merits rather than feeling any need to take sides. Unless of course he believed anyone might be placed in danger. In that case, he would insist action be taken—and she would be in total agreement. She didn’t want another man to lose his life hunting for sunken treasure simply because she feared it might cause problems between Nico and the crew.

  She tucked the receipt into her pocket. Tomorrow she’d return it to the files in the warehouse where it be
longed. After locking the front door behind her, Zanna walked toward home, pleased with the decision she’d made. Her father was the perfect person to help her decide how she should handle this situation.

  While she trod the familiar path, she organized her thoughts and questions. She wanted to be clear in her presentation so that she wouldn’t sway her father’s thinking. By the time she arrived home, she was prepared. Now all she’d need was time alone with Papa. She didn’t want to discuss this in front of Atticus or Homer. And for sure she didn’t want her mother or Yayá hearing the conversation with her father. Yayá would be voicing an opinion before Zanna had finished even the first portion of her story.

  The scent of her mother’s spanakopita greeted her like a warm embrace when she stepped inside the house. She could almost taste the savory spinach and feta cheese pastry. She had hoped for a moment to tell her father that she wanted to speak with him privately after supper, but when he arrived, both Homer and Atticus were nearby.

  The spanakopita melted in her mouth, and she complimented her mother at least three times on the flakiness of the crust. Zanna leaned back and patted her stomach. “This is the best spanakopita you’ve ever made.”

  He grandmother nodded toward the sideboard. “Look what else your mother has made for you.” Zanna clapped her hands when she spied the plate heaping with kourabiethes, the almond shortbread cookies her mother baked for family celebrations. “What are we celebrating?”

  Her gaze traveled around the circular table and finally rested on her father’s smiling face. “You remember when I stopped by your office today and said I would have a surprise for you this evening?”

  Zanna nodded. Confusion assailed her. For some reason, neither her mother nor her brothers would look at her. Instead, all three of them stared at their dinner plates as though attempting to memorize their colorful design. Her stomach now tightened around the large helping of spanakopita she’d finished only minutes ago.

  Her father tapped the china plate with his fork. “After we finish our dessert, I will tell you what it is.”

  Though her father spoke of a surprise, and the food her mother had prepared was often served at family celebrations, no one appeared in a celebratory mood. She glanced at her grandmother. No one except Yayá.

  Her father’s words had been enough to excite the older woman, and she soon gestured for the rest of the family to finish their meals. She frowned at Homer, who was chasing pieces of spinach around his plate. “Never have I seen you eat so slowly. What is wrong with you?”

  Homer looked up from his plate. “I guess I’m not very hungry.” He shifted in his chair and shot a fleeting look at Zanna.

  Her father pushed away from the table, stood, and went to the sideboard. He picked up the platter of cookies and extended it toward Zanna. “Since this is your celebration, you should have the first cookie.”

  Zanna carefully chose one of the cookies and laid it on the edge of her plate. “But what are we celebrating, Papa?”

  “One more minute, please. Let me finish passing the dessert.” He smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. And when had she ever before seen her father pass dessert like this?

  When finally her father returned to his chair, he reached into his pocket and withdrew an envelope. “This is your surprise, Zanna. Two tickets to Greece. One for you and one for Yayá. You and Yayá will sail to Greece to find a husband for you.” He lifted the cookie from his plate. “Two of you will depart, but three will return.”

  Zanna’s mouth gaped, and she feared she might swoon. She clutched the collar of her shirtwaist in an attempt to gain more air.

  The next thing Zanna saw was her grandmother’s ancient face peering down at her. “We’re going to have such fun, Zanna. Just you wait and see. I will find you the perfect man. We will sail in a couple of weeks.”

  After Zanna regained her composure, she pushed up from the divan and returned to the kitchen where she sat opposite her father.

  “I didn’t expect such a reaction to my news,” he said. “Perhaps we should go and sit in the parlor where you’ll be more comfortable.” She followed behind him and sat down again. He dropped into his favorite chair and leaned back against its thick cushion. “To be honest, I thought you would figure out the surprise long before you returned home.” He tapped his finger to the side of his head. “That lawyer mind of yours usually knows what’s going on long before anyone else.” His lips curved in a crooked smile.

  “No . . . I had no idea.” Her response was a mere whisper. She was taken aback, engrossed in her plans to discuss the possibility of sunken treasure with her father, her thoughts focused on Theo and the reasons for his death. “I would also add that I don’t understand why you believe I should sail for Greece when I’m still working for Lucy.”

  “Ah, but are you really, daughter?” He wagged his finger back and forth. “Do you not recall the conversation the three of us had earlier today?”

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  “But? There are no excuses, Zanna. I hope you remember our discussion when you first convinced me I should give you my blessing. In case you’ve forgotten, I said you could help your friend until it was clear the business would either succeed or fail. Those were my exact words.” Once again he tapped his finger to his temple. “Those words are etched in my memory. And now it is clear that the business is considered a success by both you and Dr. Lucy.”

  “Not yet, Papa. There are still problems with one of the boats and—”

  He held up his hand. “Problems with one of the boats is not what determines success or failure. We both know that, Zanna. I listened closely to what Lucy said in your office. She’s certain her father made a sound investment, and she’s reaping enough profit so that she’s no longer seeking a buyer for the company. That proves the company is a success.”

  She must think quickly, but her brain had become muddled by this unexpected turn of events. And fainting hadn’t helped matters. She silently chided herself, then pushed aside the thought in order to dwell on matters of greater importance. “Papa, the company is beginning to show a profit, and I believe one day it will be of great value. But that time has not yet arrived.”

  He shook his head. “It is close enough for me. You gave your word, Zanna.”

  Though she’d agreed to his terms, she was certain she would be able to change her father’s mind when the time arrived. And she hadn’t planned on falling in love with Nico. How could she go to Greece and search for a husband when she was already in love with the man she now wanted to marry? Her nerves grew taut at the idea of another man courting her. How could she possibly do this? She shivered at the thought.

  “You are cold?” Her father eyed her with concern.

  “No. I’m troubled by your plan.” As soon as she’d murmured the words, she was struck by a thought. “Tell me, Papa, how were you able to purchase the tickets today? Nobody in Tarpon Springs could sell you tickets on a vessel sailing for Greece. Train tickets that will take us to port, yes, but not tickets aboard a large ship.” She leaned toward him, her hopes escalating. “May I see the envelope with the tickets?”

  “Yes, of course.” He withdrew the envelope from his pocket and offered it to her.

  She stared at the envelope, willing herself to reach out and take it from her father while fearing she was wrong. Yet it would have been impossible for him to purchase the tickets this afternoon. Her stomach roiled as she extended her hand, took hold of the envelope, and lifted the flap. Carefully she removed the sets of tickets. On top were tickets for rail transportation, part of the journey in a Pullman sleeping car.

  His eyes settled on the Pullman vouchers. “Yayá will need her rest or she will become a difficult traveling companion.”

  Zanna drew in a deep breath. At the bottom of the stack lay two tickets for passage on a Cunard sailing vessel. “But how . . . ?”

  “How did I get them this afternoon?” He arched his brows.

  She nodded. “Yes, it wou
ld not have been possible to make the arrangements so quickly.”

  “I agree. These tickets were ordered the day you and I made our agreement. You have never broken your word, so I purchased the tickets so they would be here when needed.” His chest thrust forward, and he pinned her with a satisfied smile. “I may not be a lawyer, but I am smart enough to understand tickets from Florida to Greece cannot be purchased in one day.”

  His words stung. Did he truly think her arrogant because she’d become a lawyer against his wishes? “I have never considered myself to be more intelligent than anyone else, Papa, so your answer troubles me. That matter aside, I must tell you that I have no desire to travel to Greece to look for a husband.” She let her gaze drop to her folded hands. “I already care very deeply for a man. I’ve found love here in Tarpon Springs, so there’s no need for a voyage to Greece.”

  “What? How can that be? There has been no man seeking my permission to court or marry you.” His eyes simmered with anger. “This is a ploy so that you can stay in Tarpon Springs and remain single, but I will not have it.” He pointed his finger at her. “And I am surprised you would tell falsehoods to your father. I’m ashamed of you, Zanna.”

  “I’m telling the truth, Papa. I’m in love with Nico, and I’m sure he feels the same about me.”

  Her father’s mouth tightened into a thin line, and his face reddened. “How can you be speaking the truth? Nico has never spoken to me. He’s never asked my permission to call on you. And if he’d asked me for permission to wed my daughter, I wouldn’t keep it a secret.” He shook his head. “A man who truly loves a woman would talk to her father. I live in the same town as Nico. It would not be difficult for him to come and talk to me if he wanted to court you.”

  “There have been problems with the divers, and Nico has been attempting to discover what is happening on the Anastasi. I know he wants to talk to you, Papa. If he knew you were going to send me to Greece to find a husband, he would be here this minute.”