The Forty Column Castle

The Forty Column Castle by Marjorie Thelen Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: The Forty Column Castle by Marjorie Thelen Read Free Book Online
Authors: Marjorie Thelen
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

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