“Isn’t that the million dollar question?” said Lonnie. “But why would these women get into smuggling, if they are so wealthy. They seem very respectable.”
“Seem is the key word in this puzzle. Maybe they need the thrill,” Zach said. “I’ve seen stranger things.” He stood, signaling his intent to leave. “Claudie looks tired, and we could all use some sleep.”
He thanked Mother Vasilis for dinner.
She was a tiny lady with gray streaks in her midnight black hair that she wore in a tight bun. She didn’t understand English but nodded and smiled like she did. She clasped his hand in both of hers and squeezed.
“I better get back to the Coral Bay. Claudie, call me tomorrow after you bail out your aunt. You can reach me on my cell phone or through the hotel. I’ll help any way I can.”
“Thanks. You’ve been a great help already.” I smiled up at him.
“I can give you a lift, Zach,” Lonnie said.
“Thanks. I might live another day if I don’t have to be driven back to the hotel by a Cypriot taxi driver.”
Five
A phone was ringing. I couldn’t get to it. I ran to the kitchen. Couldn’t find it. Ran to the living room. Searched. No Phone. Still ringing. I couldn’t tell where it was. The bathroom. The linen closet. Not in the towels. It rang and rang and rang.
Where was I? What day was this? I couldn’t remember. The phone was still ringing. A funny ring. Two quick short rings. What was wrong with my phone? It never rang like that. The ringing stopped. Something was wrong. Whose voice was that? A man? In my loft? What was a man doing in my loft at this hour? That wasn’t English.
My eyes flew open.
It was Greek.
The door to my room slammed open, and Yannis burst in. “Claudie, wake up. Your aunt’s gone.”
I threw the sheet back before Yannis finished the sentence and was upright on the floor by the time he did. My night shirt was twisted around my body. I swiped tangled hair from my face.
“What? What are you talking about? What are you saying?”
Yannis grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Listen to me. My cousin on the police force just telephoned. Your aunt is gone. The guard reported her cell door wide open about half an hour ago. The police are on their way here. You’re wanted for questioning. You’re a suspect.”
I sank onto the bed. “Gone? Where could she go? Who would take her?” I scrubbed my face trying to think straight, trying not to let desperation and fear overpower me and render my brain useless.
“That’s what the police want to know. They think you have the motive. You may be arrested.”
“Arrested?” That word wiped the confusion from my brain and motivated me into action. “I’m getting out of here.” I grabbed the shorts and tank top I had thrown on the chair by the bed, searched the room for my backpack.
“Out of where?” Yannis asked. “This is an island. It’s not that easy to hide.”
“I’ve got to find who’s behind this, and I can’t do it from a jail cell.” I scooped up the paraphernalia of my life from the dresser top and tossed the stuff into the backpack.
“Yannis, call a taxi. Quick.”
“Where will you go?” He stood there, hands clenched at his sides, watching me pack my things.
I stopped the packing frenzy and looked at him. “I don’t know, maybe North. I’ll get word to you. Yannis, please help me.”
He looked in such pain I thought he might burst into tears. At last, he moved toward the door. “I don’t think it looks good your disappearing when you’re wanted for questioning.”
“I can’t be worried about how it looks. I need to find some answers.”
He succumbed to the pathetic look in my eyes and left the room. I could hear him on the phone requesting a taxi, as I pulled on my clothes and shoved my feet into flip-flops. I stuffed underwear, cotton tops, jean skirt, shorts into the pack and paused to consider the large suitcase by the bed. No, I wouldn’t take it. Too big, too cumbersome, it would slow me down. My hands shook so bad I couldn’t get the brush through my hair, so I smoothed it as best I could into a ponytail and secured it with a scrunchie.
Yannis returned, unhappy. “The taxi is here. I didn’t know what to say about where you were going. The driver speaks English. He’ll take you wherever you want. You can trust him. He’s a cousin.”
“Thanks. Tell the police I left for Limasol to consult my lawyer.” I pecked him on either cheek, grabbed my pack and purse, and hurried from the room.
I figured the town of Polis on the northwest tip of the island was my best bet, since it was close and in the opposite direction of Limasol. That’s where I told the driver I wanted to go. The early morning was bright, blue and cloudless. I checked my watch. Almost eight A.M.
The driver flew low, the speed most Cypriot drivers favored. As we approached the turnoff for the Coral Bay Hotel, I debated whether to see if Zach were in. Maybe just maybe, he could help. Who else did I have to turn to on the island? Everyone I knew was related to Yannis in some way, and I didn’t want to pull him any further into this fiasco.
I told the driver to turn in and wait with the motor running while I went into the hotel. At the reception desk I asked for Zach’s room number and walked to his room in the left wing of the hotel which overlooked the bay. I beat on the door and heard a muffled voice call to come back after ten A.M. to clean.
“Zach, it’s me, Claudie. I need to speak to you.”
I heard footsteps, and the door burst open. He stood there in briefs and tousled hair. He pulled me into the room. “What happened? What’s going on?”
I slipped by him and went to stand before the open doors of the patio. He followed, and I could feel him behind me, waiting. In the distance the sea lapped in and out in gentle waves, oblivious and uncaring about the melodrama of human life, in general, and mine, in particular.
“Someone kidnapped Aunt Elizabeth,” I said, addressing the indifferent scene before me. “About forty five minutes ago Yannis’s cousin called to warn us that the police were on their way to his house, that they wanted me for questioning, that I’m a suspect. So I took off. I have a taxi running outside.”
I turned around to face him. I didn’t know this man well, but maybe he could help me find my aunt. I took a leap. “Do you have any connections that could help me find out what’s happened to my aunt? This is a nightmare, and I need help.”
I must have looked pathetic standing there in my bedraggled ponytail, no makeup, my backpack slung my shoulder. What I felt was frightened, like the walls were closing in. I didn’t know who had my aunt or where she was.
He pulled me into a hug. Not a romantic hug, but one you would give a child. I could feel his warm breath on my hair and he said in that soft drawl, “I’ll help you. Tell the taxi driver to leave while I pull on some clothes.”
I started to protest but Zach placed his finger on my lips.
“I rented a Land Rover. We can go anywhere in that. I’ll explain in the car. Go. I’ll get dressed and be out in ten minutes.”
I left the taxi driver with a generous tip then walked through the lobby with my backpack and huge purse slung over my shoulder. People sat about the lounge in resort garb, waiting for tours. The sitting area had carved chairs with cushions in a tropical green pattern. A white grand piano stood to one corner. The area was open to the bay.
It would have been perfect had I been a mere vacationer. But I wasn’t. I was hunted and I felt conspicuous, like people were staring at me. There was a line for breakfast, so I went to the coffee bar by the swimming pool and ordered two coffees and sweet rolls. The waiter was young and Nordic-looking. He asked if I cared for anything in the coffee.