A Deadly Twist by Jeffrey Siger (free novel reading sites .txt) 📕

“Okay, Detective, I did what you wanted. What else do you need to know so that I can get you out of my hair?”

“I’d appreciate your telling me everything you recall about your meetings with Nikoletta Elia.”

“It was one meeting, and I found her to be a charming and intelligent woman interested in fairly portraying Naxos to her readers.”

“You’re done with the press conference, and though I sincerely admire the way you handled the press, don’t waste your charms on me. I’ve read her notebooks, and we both know that at one point she told you to stop bullshitting her with ‘Chamber of Commerce’ answers.”

The mayor rolled his eyes. “Well, if you already know what we said to each other, why are you wasting my time asking me to repeat myself?”

“I have a couple of reasons. One, to see what she may have left out of her notes, and two, to decide whether I can trust you’re telling me everything. So let’s get back to what she asked and what you answered.”

They sparred back and forth for the next twenty minutes, but the answers the mayor grudgingly gave were consistent with what Nikoletta had recorded in her notebook.

“So, my final question—at least for now—is who else did you suggest she interview for her article?”

“Let’s be frank, Detective. As I see it, Nikoletta was into this story for the glory. It’s why she wrote the piece about a computer criminal. Next, she wanted to write an article about what she thought was a war brewing between our tourism industry and agricultural interests. Contractors versus conservationists. Yes, she asked me for the names of the biggest, most important players on all sides of what she saw as a potential controversy. I wasn’t about to give her the names of firebrands who’d stoke her into doing a hatchet job on the island, so I gave her the names of people who I knew would only say good things about the island. If she wanted revolutionaries and naysayers, she could find them on her own.”

“Did she find them?”

“I don’t know. My job is to protect the island, and that means its reputation. Encouraging bad press falls outside my job description.”

“Okay, let’s try a different approach. Who are the island’s firebrands, revolutionaries, and naysayers?”

The mayor’s face turned crimson. “All they’ll try to do is wind you up with crazy conspiracies and theories. How’s that going to help find the missing woman?”

“I won’t know until I speak to them. But let me put your mind at ease. She never believed what you told her. Here’s what she had to say.”

Yianni read from his notes. “‘The mayor must think I’m an idiot. He gave me a list of political cronies who’ll give me only politically correct answers. He must be hiding something. I’ll have to get leads elsewhere.’”

Yianni looked up. “Sounds like your recommendations didn’t cut it with her. So…names, please. It’ll speed up the investigation, and perhaps even save her life.”

The mayor spit out a list of names, accompanied by various creative epithets.

As it turned out, every name mentioned by the mayor had found its way into Nikoletta’s notebooks, which also contained a few that weren’t on his list. She’d obviously been thorough in her research. Perhaps too thorough for islanders like the mayor, who don’t like the threat of bad press.

Yianni thanked the mayor for his time and cooperation, but the mayor said nothing in reply, only pointed Yianni toward the door, not rising to shake his hand or show him out.

I guess that means I did my job.

* * *

After calling Andreas to brief him on how he’d indelibly ingratiated himself to the island’s mayor and texting Dimitri the description of the man he’d been told was watching Nikoletta and the hacker the night they met, Yianni moved on to the next name on Nikoletta’s list, Marco Sanudos, head of the Naxos Hoteliers’ Association. They’d arranged to meet at Marco’s hotel. A map showed it to be approximately five kilometers from Naxos town hall, close by a popular beach. Since it didn’t seem that far, Yianni decided to use the motorbike rather than accept Dimitri’s offer of a car and driver.

It was a sunny, warm morning, with very little wind, a perfect day for a bike ride along the miles of open beach that Naxos took such pride in offering to the world. Less than a kilometer into his planned route, Yianni realized the maps were not as precise in describing the state of the roads as he’d hoped, so much so that he should have taken Dimitri up on his offer of a driver.

The paved road running from the town hall south along the sea soon turned away from the beach and into a maze of back streets that had Yianni turning first one way and then another in an effort to keep moving parallel to the sea. When he came upon a broadly paved road running next to the beach, he thought he’d found his way, but it soon turned into a dirt road before joining up with a main road that took him away from the sea in the direction of the airport.

At a sign for Agios Prokopios Beach, he decided to put his faith in the saint whose namesake beach he was looking for and took a right, heading west. It took him past the salt pond he’d seen when his plane landed and along a narrow paved road winding between borders of bamboo windbreaks and ancient stone walls. He drove alongside fields and pastures of varying shades of greens and browns, some no doubt growing seed potatoes for Naxos’s most famous crop. It was not the by-the-seashore sort of ride he was looking for, but still scenic. Missing, though, were road signs with even a hint at how to find Marco’s hotel.

After a slew of wrong turns and dead ends, Yianni pulled over, took out his phone, and in an act some might