“That would be great,” Nancy said. Excusing herself, she rose from the table and stepped aside with Zoe. She summarized what had happened that afternoon, then asked, “Do you remember seeing Niki in the office yesterday, when the passports were stolen?”
“Niki?” Zoe thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t remember, but it’s not something I would notice. My father and I trust our staff.” She seemed offended that Nancy suspected a staff member.
“Zoe, time is important,” Nancy said, trying to make her understand. “We might be able to recover Bess’s passport before it falls into the wrong hands. If Niki’s involved, it’s important that I talk to her as soon as possible.”
Zoe hesitated. “You can’t talk to her now,” she told Nancy. “Today is Niki’s day off. She took the ferry to Tinos, to visit her aunt.”
Stifling a sigh of disappointment, Nancy asked, “When will she be back?”
“Tomorrow morning. You can speak with her then,” Zoe relented. “I’ll arrange it.” Then she reached out and squeezed Nancy’s hand. “For now, please just try to enjoy the party. All this talk of crime is not good on such a lovely night.”
With that, Zoe turned back to the crowd at the table and announced, “Please help yourself to the food. The goat has been roasting for hours, and it’s been cooked to perfection.”
Bess grinned. “I thought I smelled something delic—” She paused, her blue eyes concerned. “Did you say goat?”
“Not your everyday River Heights fare,” George said, heading over to the buffet table. “But it does smell great.”
As Nancy and the others stood in line for food, the smoke of the charbroiled meat made Nancy’s mouth water. In addition to the grilled goat meat, there was chicken stewed in tomato sauce, potatoes, rice, and the classic Greek salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, black olives, onions, and feta cheese. Before long the teenagers were back at their table, their plates heaped with food.
“You know, Theo,” George said, dipping a hunk of crusty bread into the olive oil from her salad, “we’re relying on you to teach us some authentic Greek dances.”
Bess looked over at the dance floor, where a few guests were already moving in time to the soft music. The trio of musicians was made up of a violinist, a clarinetist, and a man who played an instrument that resembled bagpipes. “I’d love to learn, but the steps look awfully complicated.”
“It’s not so difficult. A good dancer listens to the heart,” Theo said, his eyes twinkling. “I am sure you can handle that, Bess.”
“I’ll give it my best shot,” Bess said.
As soon as everyone finished eating, Zoe brought the group over to introduce them to her cousin Helena, and Helena’s fiancé, Petros. While Bess and George were talking with the bride-to-be, Nancy stole away for a word with Zoe’s father. She asked if he had heard from the police about Bess’s passport, but he didn’t have any news.
Finally Nancy joined her friends on the dance floor. For the moment she was at a dead end. She decided that she might as well take Zoe’s advice and have a good time.
Zoe was walking the group through the steps of the Stae Tria, one of the most popular Greek dances. With their hands on one another’s shoulders, all the dancers formed a wide circle. The band was playing a slow song, so it was easier to follow along at first.
“You’re doing well,” Zoe said as George kicked at the air.
“One, two, three, kick, kick,” Bess counted aloud, laughing when she missed a step.
Nancy counted along, trying to get the hang of the dance. She couldn’t help laughing, too. The lively beat of the music filled the air until almost all the guests joined the circle. Theo added some dramatic effects, leaping through the air and slapping his feet on the floor.
Gradually Nancy fell into the rhythm of the dance. The complicated steps seemed more and more natural as Mick cheered her on. To her amazement, one man danced among the crowd with a bottle balanced on his head. Two other men danced around with dinner plates, which they smashed against a wall with bravado. The song ended, and applause and cheers erupted from the crowd.
“The plate-breaking is a Greek custom called spasimo,” Zoe explained. “We try to keep it at a minimum, or else we’ll run out of dishes!”
“I’ll bet,” Nancy said, laughing.
The dancers were applauding the band when Nancy noticed a sudden movement in the shadows beyond the trellis at the edge of the lawn. She squinted into the darkness, and suddenly she saw a figure.
“Is something wrong?” Mick asked, noticing the expression on her face.
But before Nancy could answer, the stranger stepped out of the shadows. He was tall, with wavy brown hair and a muscular physique. Moving onto the candlelit dance floor, he tapped George on the shoulder.
George spun around, and her mouth fell open.
“Kevin!”
Chapter Six
Nancy could hardly believe it. It was Kevin Davis, George’s boyfriend!
Without a second thought George flung herself into Kevin’s arms. He held her close for a tender kiss, then whirled her around. “I’m glad you remember me,” he teased.
“What are you doing here?” George asked breathlessly. “I thought you were on assignment.”
“I am. I have to meet up with my TV crew on Sunday in Madrid. Until then, I’m all yours—aside from a quick interview I need to do in Athens.”
“Terrific!” George stood aside as the others rushed over to say hello to Kevin. No sooner had he been introduced to Mick, Theo, and Zoe than the band launched into a slow, romantic ballad. Within seconds Nancy found herself swept into Mick’s strong arms.
“This is called the ballo,” she heard Theo say to Bess. “It’s a couple’s dance, played in honor of the engaged pair.”
Bess sighed. “How romantic!”
Turning her head, Nancy saw a starry look in George’s eyes as she moved into Kevin’s arms. Behind them, Helena and Petros swirled in the center of the dance floor.
When Mick led Nancy over to the edge of the dance floor, she could hear the sea in the distance, lapping against the shore. “It’s such a beautiful night,” she said, tilting her head back so that she could see the stars glittering in the ink black sky. “I hate for it to end.”
“Who says it has to?” Mick pulled her closer, and Nancy smiled, forgetting about Bess’s stolen passport. All she could think about was Mick and the delicious feeling of dancing in his arms.
“I know it was my idea to come into town before the flight to Athens,” Bess told Nancy the next morning, “but after all that dancing last night, I should have stayed in bed.”
Nancy’s only response was a yawn. It was almost nine o’clock, but the engagement party had ended very late, and she was a little, tired. She and Bess had already rushed through a breakfast of milk and cheese pies in a bakeshop, called a zacharoplasteion. Now bleary-eyed, they were walking along the main street of Chora, dodging tourists and donkeys laden with baskets.
George had met Kevin for a morning jog on the beach, and Mick was probably still asleep. Lucky guy, Nancy thought. Since Bess and George were taking a noon flight to Athens, Bess had persuaded Nancy to join her for an early trip into town.
“After all this, I hope my mother likes the statue,” Bess said. “Oh—there’s the store.”
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the stationery store was open. It didn’t take her long to pay for the windmill, which Spiros, the owner, had set aside for her after Zoe called him. The silver-haired man chewed on his unlit pipe as he wrapped the windmill in tissue and placed it in a box. He had just offered to gift wrap the box when the phone rang in the back room.