When Dead in Greece (18 page)

Authors: L.T. Ryan

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #International Mystery & Crime, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Organized Crime, #Vigilante Justice, #Thrillers, #jack noble

“We good out there?” Alik said.

“Yeah, come on.”

We reached the rental and helped Isadora into the back seat. She folded her legs underneath her and crumbled to the side, resting her head on the sidewall. Alik and I got in. He backed into the driveway, the road, then shifted into first and peeled away. We didn’t pass another car for at least three miles.

A few miles after that he pulled over and made a call.

“He’ll be at the same air strip in two hours,” Alik said.

I looked up at the streaming grey clouds. Rain had started falling again. “Any other options?”

“Ferry will be rough. And it takes a long time. And we still might have to wait two hours.”

“All right, let’s get close and find someplace quiet to pull over and wait.”

Thirty minutes later we parked in a small clearing, shielded from the wind gusts. Raindrops hammered the roof.

“Your money,” Alik said.

“What about it?” I said.

“You left it behind.”

“Figured that might keep them out of our hair. Plus, the whole thing with Chris threw me off. The whole time, I thought there was something different about him. Figured him for a merc, you know. Guy like us. Goes into business doing security work.”

Alik nodded and said nothing.

“Turns out he was more. I mean, I see why he never let on. But, damn, what are the odds?”

Alik shrugged. “I guess we need to call Frank now.”

“Why?”

“Because of what Kostas said about notifying people if something happened to him. I still can’t believe you pulled the trigger after that.”

“As opposed to what? Being his bitch?”

“But now they might come after us.”

“No one’s coming after us.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Because Kostas was bluffing me.”

“You know this how? The way he smiled or blinked or held his hands?”

“Nothing that scientific,” I said. “Just a guess.”

“I’m calling Frank.”

“You can’t call him.”

“Yes, I can.”

“What are you gonna tell him? About all this?”

Shaking his head, Alik slammed his fist into the steering wheel. “Shit, I can’t tell him.”

“If they come, they come, Alik. We’ll deal with it then.”

A while later we received the call from Alik’s friend. We ditched the car at the gate and were airborne ten minutes later. The flight wasn’t smooth, but we made it back.

Isadora spoke for the first time when we were back in her uncle’s car. All she said was she wanted to go home. Esau’s house wasn’t safe, but she wouldn’t hear our argument. I offered her a pistol, but she refused. Feared that in her current mental state, she might do something stupid. I told her I’d come by in the morning to check on her.

The cafe was wrapped in police tape. They spotted us when we arrived, pulled us inside, asked us a bunch of questions. We stuck to a story of heading out for a fishing trip that was canceled due to the weather. Took some time to get back home. The local cops seemed to accept our story and let us go up to the apartment.

I staggered into my room and collapsed on the bed. Slept straight through to the next morning. After waking, I fixed a pot of coffee, drained a mug, then set off to see Isadora, like I promised. Found the front door unlocked and the house empty. She left a note saying she couldn’t stay around any longer and had gone home, wherever that was.

For three days, Alik and I were prisoners in the apartment. The police were in and out. Repairmen came along and replaced the front window. We grew so bored that we went down and cleaned the cafe up after Esau’s death was ruled a suicide and the cops were done with the place.

Almost a week later, we’d reopened the cafe and let the old guys in to hang out and play their game. I was sitting by the front door, drinking coffee and eating eggs and lamb when a familiar face showed up. Almost too familiar. Thought I was looking at Esau’s ghost.

The guy pulled the door open, stopped and looked at me. “You the guy that got the cafe up and running again?”

I nodded.

“Jack?”

I nodded again.

“Heard about you from Esau’s niece.”

“That’s great,” I said. “Who are you?”

“Nic,” he said. “Esau’s brother.”

“Twins?”

“Nah. Couple years apart. At this age, doesn’t matter much.”

“Thought his brother was dead.”

“That’s our older brother. He was a couple years older than me.”

“You here to collect his things?”

Nic shook his head. His gaze danced around the place. “Esau left this to me.”

“What’s there to leave? The bank’ll probably take it soon.”

“Why? Did he have debt I don’t know about? Wouldn’t the lawyer have known?”

“Debt? This was his debt. This and the house. He had nothing.”

Nic laughed. “Son, he owned this place and the house free and clear.”

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I stood. “Let me show you to the office.”

Later that day, after the old men had gone home, and Nic had a handle on things, I retreated to the terrace and caught the final rays of the sun before it dipped behind the buildings. I stared out at the water, watching the colors shift and soften to black.

The door opened behind me. Soft footsteps crossed the tiles toward me. They echoed off the walls. A hand touched my shoulder. Squeezed gently. I looked down at the long, slender fingers. Lavender enveloped me.

“I had to come say goodbye,” Isadora said, stepping around my side, dragging her nails across the back of my neck. She sat in the chair opposite me.

“I’m glad you did.” I held her gaze for a second. “Where’re you going?”

“Away, for a while. Then hopefully back to school.”

“I have something for you. Wait here.” I headed inside, up the stairs, into the apartment, then back again. She was sitting in the same spot and smiled when I stepped outside.

“What is it?” She pointed at the bag I held.

“Something for you. It’s what was left over from the money…” I didn’t finish the sentence.

Isadora did. “You got for Kostas.”

I nodded. “How are you doing with that?”

“It’s not easy. Bad dreams every night. But, it is what it is. Right?”

“Suppose so.” I handed her the bag.

“How much is it?”

“Enough to get you started at school.”

She set it on the table and stood and fell into me. Her arms wrapped around my neck. Her fingers ran through my hair. Her lips met mine. I held her there for a long minute. Neither of us wanted to let go. I wasn’t sure what we represented to one another, but it felt good. She released me. I collapsed in my chair. She backed away, smiling.

“Now your turn to wait,” she said.

I nodded as she hurried across the tiles, her steps echoing into a jumbled mess. The door opened, then whooshed shut.

And I waited.

A minute. Five. Ten. Half an hour. Two hours later, she still hadn’t returned. She’d left everything perfect.

In a way.

Chapter 35

THE ESTATE LAWYER RECOGNIZED THE significance of his dead client and all that he possessed, so he contacted his most trusted broker, who then sent out the twenty-eight year old man with explicit instructions to sort everything, but get rid of nothing.

So the man left early on a Wednesday morning, making the trek from Athens to the house in the hills. He pulled out the keys that had been delivered to him the night prior and opened the front door.
The hell
, he thought, looking around the trashed room with the tacky couches and empty booze bottles and marijuana pipes and ladies undergarments strewn about.

He went right through that room, out the back door, finding peace along the walkway.

“What is that?” he muttered to himself, closing his eyes, inhaling deeply. “Jasmine? No, lavender.”

His mother’s favorite. Perhaps he’d pick some on the way out.

He reached the building in back and made his way in and down the hall and into a splendid office. The furniture was exquisite. The book collection was huge and looked older than the obvious antique desk.

What other treasures did the office hold?

He started with the desk, went through it drawer by drawer. He reached the last one, which contained only one item. A large tan envelope, made out to an address written in Cyrillic font. A piece of paper was taped to the envelope and it said that should something have happened to the owner of the house that reeked of foul play, the letter was to be mailed.

The guy held the envelope for a long time. He didn’t want to sort it because sorting it meant that he’d have to put it in a pile and the pile it belonged in meant it would go in the trash.

Now, the guy ignored the last part, the part about foul play, even though he knew the owner of the estate had met a gruesome death. Instead his romantic mind raced to other possibilities. That the guy who’d died had harbored a secret love and had never told the woman.

He couldn’t let that letter go to waste. No way.

So he crossed the room with the envelope in hand. He picked up his bag. Unzipped it. Stuffed the letter inside. And later that day, as he headed home after a long day of sorting and piling and deciding which stuff might get tossed and which should be sold, he stopped by a Hellenic Post office and slipped the envelope in the mail.

“Good luck,” he said, looking up.
A stupid thing to say
, he thought. And then he had reservations. Maybe some things were better left unsaid. Maybe that letter would destroy the bond of a happy family. There might be unintended consequences, no matter how noble his intentions had been.

THE END

Jack Noble's story continues in
Noble Intentions Season Two
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Other Books by L.T. Ryan

Jack Noble Series in Order
The Recruit

Noble Beginnings

A Deadly Distance

Thin Line

Noble Intentions Season One

When Dead in Greece

Noble Intentions Season Two

Noble Intentions Season Three

Never Go Home (Jack Noble)

Beyond Betrayal (Clarissa Abbot Thriller)