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said Maggie, “because Tassos does it for me, but where do you suggest we have lunch?”

“Where are you headed?”

“No plans. We thought we’d stop by Eggares to see your friend,” said Lila.

“She’s not there today. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Then we’re wide open to suggestions.”

Artist paused. “If you’re up for it, a wondrous ten-kilometer drive from here gets you to a mountain village with a great taverna. A girl who used to work here now works there. She moved to Halki to be closer to her boyfriend, but when that fell through she went back home to work in her family’s taverna. It sits on the edge of a mountainside.”

“Sound’s great. What’s the village?”

“Apeiranthos.”

“What’s it like?” asked Toni.

“It’s built between two valleys on the slopes of a mountain range. Some call it the marble village because marble’s used everywhere, from the squares used to pave its streets to the construction of its houses. The village is dominated by two seventeenth-century Venetian stone towers, and for more than half a millennium, its people have mined emery, raised livestock, and grown wine grapes. Today, it’s popular with tourists looking to explore the more remote parts of the island.”

Maggie smiled. “That’s a very good Chamber of Commerce presentation, but aren’t you leaving out a few details?”

“Like what?” asked Toni.

“Shall I tell them, or will you?” Maggie asked Artist.

“I assume you’re referring to the village’s tough mountainfolk reputation.”

“In body as well as mind,” added Maggie.

Artist nodded. “I’m not an anthropologist, but I’d venture to guess much of that comes from their Cretan roots. To this day they speak in a distinctly Cretan dialect and know how to make it through hard times by being quick-witted and doing whatever’s necessary to survive.”

Lila said, “I have friends with Apeiranthos roots. Those same qualities have served them well in fashioning highly successful and distinguished lives around the world.”

“It’s also a place where vendetta is still practiced,” said Maggie.

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Artist, “but just to be on the safe side, I’d say don’t offend someone from Apeiranthos.”

They all laughed.

Lila called for the check, but Artist insisted that in her village, she paid.

Before saying goodbye, they exchanged phone numbers, and Artist promised she’d call her friend at the mountainside taverna to tell her to expect them.

As they walked back to the SUV, Artist yelled out to the three from her doorway, “Safe travels.”

Toni looked at Lila. “Should we take that as a warning?”

Lila smiled. “Unlike us, I think she’s just being courteous.”

* * *

Dimitri told Andreas he had no idea who the large woman with six children might have been. He said, assuming she was an off-islander keeping a low-key presence in what back then was the isolated, undeveloped southern end of the island, she might have remained virtually anonymous to all but her neighbors. Then, too, she might have stayed on a boat, making her even less likely to mingle with locals. Still, he would reach out to old-timers from the area who might recall her or know of someone who would, but from how carefully she avoided being seen on the hotel site—and the suspicious death of the project manager who could identify her—he did not hold out much hope at getting an ID on her or her children.

On his own, Andreas reached out to the five locals he’d met with the day before on the off chance one of them, or their friends or relatives, might have known of the woman.

Chef said he’d check, but as she’d be well over a hundred by now, he doubted any local contemporary of hers would still be alive, although perhaps one of their children might know of her.

Shepherd said he knew little about that part of the island and nothing about the woman, but he’d ask around.

Andreas received similar responses from Farmer, Bookseller, and Artist, except Artist asked that he please tell Lila to let her know how she liked her restaurant recommendation. Andreas promised he would.

Finished with his calls, Andreas sat quietly staring out the cruiser’s front window at the line of mountains rolling north, one off into the next. Yianni and Tassos stood a few meters to the left of the front of the car, likely talking football. He’d pulled over to make his calls, and they’d gotten out to stretch their legs.

Andreas liked being a cop. Make that, loved being a cop. Mostly the camaraderie. He hoped his bravado performance with the minister wouldn’t prove to be his swan song on the force. But from the way things were shaping up, the odds weren’t in his favor.

Worse, how am I going to tell Lila that, come midnight, I’ll likely be hers, 24/7?

Chapter Seventeen

Artist’s directions had them following a twisting mountain road into the heart of Apeiranthos, where they found parking across from the Panagia Aperathitissa, one of the oldest and most impressive churches on the island. Artist had recommended they visit the church as well as a small gem of an archaeological museum, one of several such museums in the village. But at this moment their minds were on lunch.

They strolled west toward a broad, marble-paved lane running south through the heart of the village at the eastern border with one of its two embracing valleys. Kafenia, tavernas, and tourist shops lined the lane’s uphill side. Across the lane, tables offered parklike views out across a schoolyard and down into the valley, while farther on, tavernas and a few private homes claimed the more spectacular views.

Groups of three and four hard-looking men of broadly ranging ages sat scattered at well-worn tables on both sides of the lane, sipping tsipouro or beer, smoking one cigarette after another, and commenting among themselves on all who passed by. The men’s eyes locked on to the women as they approached and did not shift away as they passed, but they said not a word to the women.

“Anyone care to guess what’s on their minds?” said Lila.

“Bet it’s not hard,” said Toni.

“That’s not what I asked.” Lila winked.

“Hey, you

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