Aegean Intrigue (2 page)

****

Alex watched his suspect as he spoke to the class. She avoided eye contact, which didn't surprise him. The alarm on her face when she recognized him soon faded, replaced by annoyance. Was it possible she would turn down her invitation to join the dig? From what he had read, her participation was almost guaranteed. Too bad her fool of a boss had decided to make his move last night. He hadn't wanted to frighten her. He needed to gain her confidence and make her want to join this dig so he could catch her and discover her involvement in the thefts.

The meeting ended, and the students headed toward the door. He moved to catch up with her. Not wanting to alarm her, he simply walked beside her into the hallway.

“I trust you have no ill effects from last night's excitement?” he murmured.

Her posture stiffened and her step faltered, but only for a moment. “I'm fine,” she returned. “Thank you for your help.”

“It was no problem.” He matched his steps to hers and found she walked with an athletic gait. Her jeans covered her long legs, but he could easily imagine how those legs would look—lean and tanned. He forced his mind to return to the task at hand. “Will the incident have an effect on your employment?”

“I suppose it will. I'm grateful for the dig opportunity. It's the perfect excuse for leaving.” She frowned. “Of course, I'll need to replace the income from the restaurant, unless you need another cook besides Dimitri.” She turned her beautiful, brown eyes toward him, and his heart melted at the hopefulness in them.

Alex cleared his throat, forcing himself to concentrate on the conversation. “With such a small crew, he shouldn't need an assistant,” he explained.

Her face fell and the first seeds of doubt took root in Alex's mind. If she was as guilty as Zotis claimed, why would she be so anxious for menial work? Wouldn't she have been compensated for prior heists? Besides, she was the daughter of a world-famous scientist and a Hollywood actress. Surely she didn't have to provide for herself? Something wasn't right.

“Perhaps I can suggest something for now.” Glancing to confirm he had her attention, he continued. “I'm sure the professor knows what he's doing as far as the actual dig, but he seems to be a bit unsure about electronic communication. Several of his reports need to be turned in online, and I know he would appreciate your help. There has also been interest in keeping a blog, so students elsewhere can see what we're doing. You would, of course, be compensated for your time.”

The glow lighting her face made Alex's heart soar. He would have promised her anything to keep it there. But he quickly dampened his eagerness. He could not, would not, take on the responsibility for someone else's happiness. It led only to heartbreak. He forced himself to remember the pain of the last betrayal. He looked away, only half-listening to Francie express her gratitude and promise to do her best.

It was going to be a long summer. If he had any sense at all, he would leave her now and go back to his office. Instead, he heard himself ask, “Have you eaten lunch yet?”

 

“Lunch?”

“The meal between breakfast and supper.”

The light in her eyes disappeared, and her expression closed. “Very funny. I'm wondering why I would want you and my lunch in the same room.”

“Ouch. Have I offended you? Or am I so difficult to look at?”

She decided to ignore the second question. It was difficult not to look at the man. Better to go on the offensive. “You've been at Kostos's restaurant, staring at me. Why?”

“You're a beautiful woman. Of course, I would stare.” At her snort of disbelief, he laughed. “Truly. I have wanted to meet you, but wasn't sure how to approach you. Now, I find myself linked with you professionally, and I have the opportunity to get to know you.”

“I'm sure someone like you would never hesitate to approach anyone, professionally or not.”

“Normally, no. But you were preoccupied with your studies, and I wasn't sure you would welcome the distraction.”

He had her there. “True, but you didn't hesitate to step in at my apartment the other night.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why were you there? Did you follow me home?”

“No, I wasn't stalking you. I, too, was on my way home. My apartment is near yours.” He must have sensed her skepticism, because he reached for his wallet. “You don't believe me—here is my driver's license with my home address.” Pulling out the card, he held it up to her. She recognized the street as one with upscale apartments and hotels. So he was telling the truth. Should she have lunch with him? He truly is a handsome man, she thought. But he was a Greek man, and she wanted nothing to do with them outside of the professional realm.

“I'm sorry, but I have exams to study for.” She gestured toward Jane and Christina, who had followed them from the meeting. “You have two young ladies waiting for you with questions.” She frowned as she remembered something else. “And I need to go to work.”

“Do you think your boss will bother you again?” He stepped closer. “Has he bothered you before?”

“No! He's never—not before last night, anyway. But I'm going to have to let him know I'm leaving. I'm sure he'll have no trouble replacing me.”

“What time do you start your shift?”

She looked at him warily. “Why?”

“No staring or stalking, I promise. I'll be nearby in case he gives you trouble.”

Francie wasn't sure if she should be relieved or frightened by that.

****

The rest of the week passed in a blur of activity. She had completed her classes, taken her exams, and packed for her trip. She had given her notice to Kostos, who had begged her to stay and even offered a raise. Nothing had been said about his lapse outside her apartment, and she wondered if he'd been embarrassed over the incident. In the end, he'd wished her well and made her promise to come back to work for him in the fall.

“I now understand I am nothing but an older brother to you,” he'd told her. “And I promise to care for you as I would care for my younger sisters.”

Since she planned to return for the fall semester, she hadn't wanted to give up her apartment in Athens, but paying rent on an empty apartment would have been an expense she couldn't afford. Fortunately, a neighbor had needed a place for visiting relatives to stay, and arrangements had been made for delivery of keys, storage of her personal items, and other details. Having her rent paid for the two months she would be gone was a huge relief.

A few days before departure, a courier arrived with a packet of final instructions. She was told to ride the early ferry to the island of Paros, and Dimitri would meet the crew at the dock and take them to the dig site. Her ferry ticket was included in the packet, and she danced for joy at another expense she didn't have to bear.

Carefully, she packed for the trip. She wouldn't need much in the way of clothing: sturdy work boots, heavy socks, shorts, light tops, a hat, underwear, and sunscreen. Then she packed her tools: her notebook, a camera, and her trowel. The last was polished and wrapped in an old T-shirt. It had been a gift from her father, one of the few items she had ever received from him. He had given it to her after they'd gone on their last dig together. Nothing could have been more precious to her than this verification of his approval of her as an archaeologist. Since then, the beloved trowel had accompanied her on every dig, been cleaned every night, and stored safely in her knapsack.

Maybe someday her father would ask her to go on another dig with him.

****

In his own apartment, Alex also packed for the trip. His laptop, of course, and some digging tools, borrowed from an archaeologist friend. As the Project Director, he wouldn't be expected to participate in the actual dig, but he intended to be in the thick of all the action. It was the only way he could closely observe his suspects. The rest of his belongings took only a moment to pack. He was a seasoned traveler, often leaving on assignments with little notice.

Again, he studied his file on Francie Vasileiou. She was a study in contrasts, but a lot of those contrasts mirrored his own. Like him, she was half-Greek. Like him, she was as comfortable in Europe as in North America.

Like him, she had been burned in love.

The details of her unfortunate love affair weren't part of the report, of course, but it was easy to read between the lines. Leandros Petrou, a graduate student from Cyprus, had been attending Stanford when Francie arrived as a freshman. Soon, he and Francie had been an item, even sharing the same address for a short time. Alex's file on Francie included a picture of the couple at a university function. Leandros looked confident and dapper in a well-fitting tuxedo as Francie, elegant in an evening gown, gazed up at him. Soon after he had graduated, he had been hired as Dr. Vasileiou's assistant, and Francie no longer appeared with him. The gossip magazines had been full of pictures of him at society events with various celebrity women. One actually went so far as to print the caption “Francie's Been Replaced!”

Would anger toward her young lover cause her to steal the artifacts? Was it an act of revenge? Or was she trying to gain the attention of her famous parents through her notoriety?

Again, he reread her file, looking for more details about her relationship with the young man, even though he had most of the information committed to memory. After meeting Georges Vasileiou, Leandros had gone on to become the professor's right hand man on several high profile digs. The tabloids proclaimed him one of Greece's “Most Eligible Bachelors.”

Until his glamorous life had ended in a tragic accident. The small plane carrying him and several crew members home from a dig in Egypt had crashed into the Aegean Sea. Had Francie mourned the young man's death? According to photographs in the newspapers, she had attended the funeral with her father. Her face, partially shrouded by a dark veil, had held a stoic expression.

Alex sighed. Why was he concerned with the woman's emotional state? His job was to find out how the artifacts were being stolen. Francie and Professor Theo were the prime suspects. But the professor seemed too absent-minded, too clumsy to pull off a crime of this magnitude. And Francie—well, she didn't seem to fit either. There must be someone higher up. She might be the minion, but someone else was calling the shots.

By setting up a dig contained entirely on Zotis's estate, they had a better opportunity to watch her every move. Fortunately, ancient artifacts had been found there previously, and the university's archaeology department, led by Professor Theo, had long wanted to schedule a dig. All Alex had to do was bring in an investor—namely Zotis—to convince the committee to go ahead with the dig, and include his two prime suspects.

Alex only hoped watching her wouldn't prove to be detrimental to his own well-being.

 

Departure day finally arrived. Francie took the early morning commuter train to the port in Piraeus, where she would board the ferry bound for Paros. Normally, she bought economy tickets, but the dig sponsors had purchased reserved seats for the entire crew. This was an unexpected luxury.

She had been on her own for several years now. Even during her time at Stanford, the allowance sent by her mother's accountant had barely been enough to cover her living expenses. She hadn't had any contact with her mother since that last, hateful exchange almost five years ago. And her father, though he was always cordial, had less and less to say to her. It was almost like speaking to a distant relative or a friend of the family.

She shook her head to clear it.

The first day of a dig had always been more exciting to her than the first day of school. As usual, the anticipation was enough to keep her awake the night before. She had been up early this morning, packed and ready to go. She looked around for other members of the crew, knowing even as she did so it would be impossible to find anyone in this mass of people. Perhaps that was the reason for the reserved cabin seats, although a cheaper plan would have been to specify a meeting place in the ferry, or perhaps meet at a designated place on the island. No matter, she would enjoy the comfortable, richly padded seats.

The gate to the ferry opened, and the crowds streamed toward the vessel. Francie hung back, content to let the eager passengers swarm about looking for their ideal seats. The ride to Paros would take four hours, so there would be plenty of time to nap or read a book. Some people preferred the sunshine on the open top deck, while others headed for the lounges. Since she had a reserved seat, she didn't have to worry about rushing to find a place to sit.

When the throng had passed, she picked up her backpack and strode to the gate. Years of working with her father in the field had taught her the value of packing light, and she'd put everything she needed into the small, rugged pack. Bypassing the luggage area on the bottom level, she headed toward the moving stairs that would take her to the upper decks.

She always enjoyed the ferry rides between the islands, especially this particular line, running to several of the Cyclades Islands. Leaving Piraeus port in Athens, the ferry chugged across the Aegean Sea toward Paros. The vessel also carried passengers and supplies bound for Santorini and other islands. The boat was freshly washed down after every trip, so that even those with economy tickets were assured of a clean, comfortable ride.

Stepping off the escalator, she made her way past the cafe and gift shop to the reserved seats.
Whoever is funding this dig certainly has deep pockets
, she thought. The heavily padded “airplane-style seats” would be a special treat. She could snuggle in and close her eyes.

“Good morning.”

Turning toward the voice, her gaze met that of the very man who had haunted her dreams the last few weeks. As usual, he looked crisp and well rested, unlike the majority of the passengers on the early morning shuttle. A light blue polo shirt fit snugly over his muscled shoulders and arms, and crisp khaki pants completed his outfit. He looked as if he had stepped from a gentleman's magazine. The battered brown satchel lay across his lap, a sheaf of papers lying on top of it.

“Good morning,” she managed. Breaking eye contact, she glanced down at her ticket to check her seat number and nearly groaned. Her seat was right next to his.

So much for the relaxing trip, she thought. What had she done to deserve four full hours seated next to this disturbing man?

Her face must have reflected her dismay. “I apologize if my presence distresses you. I had hoped to go over some of the details of the dig while we had time before our arrival.”

“Why would you want to go over them with me? Professor Theo is in charge of the dig.”

“On paper, yes. But you are his assistant. Has he shared the details with you?”

She frowned. “No, he hasn't.”

“I thought not. He is known for his forgetfulness. I have made an extra copy of his materials for you, including a dossier on each of the other participants.”

She made no move to sit, and he sighed. “I can move to another seat once we have gone through the details.”

She unlooped the straps of her backpack and sat, chiding herself for appearing so childish. Why does this man's presence disturb me so? It must be from all those days of noticing him in the restaurant. Taking the packet from Alex, she began to read. Thankfully, he allowed her to read on her own rather than pointing things out to her. It was unnerving enough to have to sit next to the man. It would be worse to have those dark brown eyes focused on her, his melodic voice sounding in her ear…

She blinked and brought her mind back to the page in front of her.

When she got to the page describing the sleeping accommodations, Francie frowned. “You're staying with us the entire time?” she asked.

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“I've never known a Project Director to stay on site. You've probably got a half dozen other projects you're working on, don't you? I expected you would just take care of the planning, the designating, and then leave.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don't operate that way.”

The sudden coldness in his expression unnerved her. She merely nodded and looked back at the page, but the symbols made no sense to her. She could read English, Greek, and French, but in her agitation she couldn't decipher anything on the page. Why had he become so angry?

He cleared his throat and his tone gentled. “Our sponsor is an exacting man. He expects detailed reports each evening. I don't have any other projects going in Athens at the moment, so…” He paused and shrugged before continuing, “I decided to take a working vacation.”

Francie felt her tensions drain away. Maybe she had misread his facial expression. At least he wasn't angry with her. She looked at the document again, and this time the words made sense.

The instructions Alex handed her looked pretty straightforward. The team was to excavate an area in southern Paros, where evidence of a prehistoric community had been found. Francie would be responsible for recording each artifact found by the crew. Jane and Christina were entrusted with the cleaning of the items. The professor, assisted by Francie, would pack the artifacts for shipment to Athens. She read on, pausing occasionally to ask a question. She could hardly believe it when an announcement indicated the ferry was preparing to dock.