The Forty Column Castle by Marjorie Thelen Read Free Book Online

you know, I find it hard to believe that any of these old
     gals could be criminals.”
    “My aunt isn’t a criminal,” I said, pounding my fist on the table, hard enough that
     everyone grabbed their drinks.
    “All right, all right,” Lonnie said and put his arm around me. “Don’t get riled. It’ll
     give you wrinkles.”
    I forced a smile but shrugged out of the hug and looked to Yannis. “Would now be a
     good time to call on the landlord?”
    “Yes, he’s probably in about this time.”
    “Thank you, Yannis.” I squeezed his arm. He was being a dear, and I appreciated his
     graciousness even though Zach’s presence disgruntled him.
    “Lonnie, thanks for agreeing to be the front man with the widows. The rest of us look
     like we’ve spent the day at the beach. I could use a shower and some chow.”
    “Come,” Yannis said. “You can shower at our place. My mother will have lots of food.
     I’ll go by to see Mr. Philipides while you’re recharging.”
    We downed our drinks, and Lonnie settled the bill with Kevin at the bar.
    “Where you off to?” Kevin wanted to know.
    “To meet some smugglers,” Lonnie said.
    “Right,” Kevin said,”and I’m a Palestinian terrorist.”
    “You just don’t know.” Lonnie winked at me and that gave me pause.
    Cyprus is tucked up into the Eastern armpit of the Mediterranean formed by Turkey,
     Syria, Lebanon and Israel, not a day’s boat trip away and an even shorter flight by
     jet. For thousands of years it’s been the crossroads of the Mediterranean Sea. Given
     the upheaval in Middle East, we might not like what was under some of the rocks we
     turned over.
    * * * * *
    “How’d it go?” I greeted Lonnie when he arrived back at Yannis’s house. He took a
     place at the family dining table where Mother Vasilis had cleared a place. The table
     was smothered in food. Fresh fruit, rice, lamb kebobs, salad, goblets, glasses, coffee
     cups. The heavenly smell of rosemary and garlic laced with coffee drifted in the air.
     Yannis had just sat down and was loading a plate. Zach was still working on his. I
     was having coffee.
    Lonnie grinned. “Mrs. Crawford and I had a nice chat, even though she was on her way
     out and didn’t have a lot of time for an unexpected guest. But I found out something
     real interesting.” He paused for dramatic effect. “She said that Elizabeth had an
     admirer while she was here, an Italian by the name of Salvatore Bellomo, who’s in
     wine and olives. He took a tour one day with us, now that I think about it. Did you
     know your aunt had a beau?”
    “A beau?” I said, trying to buy myself a little time to recover from the surprise.
     My aunt had never exhibited much interest in men. She was the kind of woman that seemed
     to enjoy having them around but didn’t need one to make her life complete.
    “Mrs. Crawford said that Mr. Bellomo seemed to be quite taken with your aunt.”
    “That’s hard to believe. My aunt is a confirmed spinster.” Or I thought she was. Another
     niggling doubt took its place by the double identity one.
    “Maybe there’s more to your aunt than you realize,” Lonnie said.
    “Don’t start that again, Lonnie.” I gave him a squinty eyed look. “A beau just seems
     out of place for her.”
    I wasn’t going to admit that doubt devils had taken up residence on my shoulder. Maybe
     I didn’t know my aunt as well as I thought I did. A beau was so unlike her. So was
     smuggling.
    “I remember,” Lonnie said, taking a slug of beer, “that Mr. Bellomo was a quiet guy,
     dressed expensive, very neat and drove a white Mercedes with gold trim.”
    “Oh, great, an Italian in olives with gold trim.”
    “And wine.”
    “Next you’ll tell me he is from Sicily.”
    “Don’t know, but we can track him down. He has an office in Limasol. We can go over
     there tomorrow after you spring your aunt. She might like to see him again.”
    Lonnie grinned.
    I was not amused.
    My cell phone rang, and I