Captive in Crete: The First Jet Wilson Cozy Mystery (Jet Wilson Cozy Mysteries Book 1) by Lyssa Stanson (best motivational books of all time .TXT) 📕

“Oh,” Grandma and I both looked at the now empty table where Tassos and his family had been sitting. “No, I didn’t notice. Jet?”

“No. He must have left whilst we were eating.”

“She rarely notices much of what goes on around her when there’s food in front of her,” offered Grandma, smiling, whilst I made a mental note to slap her when we got home.

“Jet, will you be staying with Sheila whilst you are on the island?”

“Yes.”

“And how long are you staying?”

“I’m not sure. It’s an open-ended visit, but at least couple of weeks.”

“You don’t need to get back to work?” He paused, “Or family?”

“No, I’m a temp. I mean I do temporary work, and I’m currently between contracts,” I explained to Aristede’s quizzical look. “And no family.” That blush was threatening again.

He looked at me for a long moment with those deep brown eyes and said “Good, so I know where to find you. If I should need you.”

He stood up and politely shook our hands. “Thank you, ladies, you have been most helpful.” Then he turned and walked away.

“I think that young man likes you.”

“Don’t be silly Grandma, he was just being polite. And anyway, I’m not in the market for a new man. I haven’t got over the old one yet.”

“Really? When was the last time you thought about ‘the old one’? And what was his name again?”

“You know very well his name is Arry, I mean Harry.” But I couldn’t quite remember the last time I had thought of him – not since I’d arrived on the island, anyway.

Grandma put her hand on my arm. “Let’s go home,” she said, gently. “It’s been a long day for you, hasn’t it?”

People were gradually drifting off. It was early yet, by Greek standards, but no one seemed to be in a sociable mood anymore. Me included. I happily agreed and Grandma called Georgios for the bill. I decided I would be glad to get to my bed and put this evening into the past.

Chapter Five – Tuesday morning

The next morning was bright and sunny. I could see the sun’s rays peeping through the slats of my window shutters, but the room was just pleasantly warm. The thick walls and Grandma’s adherence to the local custom of shutting everything up during the worst heat of the day and opening it all again for the cooler parts, kept the house at a relatively mild and constant temperature. I woke late, feeling refreshed and happy to be in one of my favourite places with one of my favourite people. Then I remembered the previous evening and Adrianna dying at her dinner. I had been old enough to go to the funerals of both my paternal grandparents, but I had never actually seen someone die before.

I resolved not to think about it and enjoy the day. I could hear Grandma bustling about in the kitchen, and I could smell fresh coffee, so I leaped out of bed and hurriedly got dressed in my favourite attire of shorts and a t-shirt.

We took our coffee, and a huge bowl of yogurt and honey for me, out onto the terrace. We had only been sat for a minute when we heard the sound of a moped coming down the track. There were a few houses before Grandma’s, but the moped came all the way to the end of the track before stopping. The rider took off his helmet and I was surprised to see Tassos, the local housing inspector.

“Good morning Sheila,” he said as he walked down the path towards us. “I hope I am not interrupting?”

“Not at all, please come in. You haven’t met my granddaughter, have you? This is Jet. Jet, this is Tassos.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I said as I stood and shook the man’s hand. His grasp was light, his hand cool despite the heat.

“Would you like some coffee?” asked Grandma.

“That would be most pleasant, thank you so much.”

Tassos sat whilst Grandma went to the kitchen for another cup then poured coffee from the pot on the table. He was wearing lightweight cotton trousers and a short-sleeved shirt. I tried not to think about the effect on his exposed skin should his moped take a tumble on one of the gravel-strewn roads common in this area.

“You have heard about Adrianna of course, Sheila.” Tassos got straight down to business.

“Yes, we were there when it happened.”

“A terrible tragedy. I grieve for her poor family. And, of course, for her poor clients.” I felt Grandma bristle beside me, but she held her tongue.

“It is terrible to be thrown into confusion, not knowing what will happen with your home or business. Most awkward. Naturally, I want to do all I can to help at this terrible time.”

“But surely there isn’t anything you can do?” said Grandma. “You don’t have the qualification.”

Tassos took a sip of coffee whilst he paused as if to gather his thoughts. I wondered if her bluntness had offended him, but he gave no sign of it.

“True, true. But these are most unusual circumstances. I believe I can persuade the authorities in Athens to fast-track my application, or perhaps to allow a temporary easing of the rules. To help the residents and businesses of Sivas, you understand.”

“I understand perfectly. And what is it, exactly, that you need from me?”

Grandma may be a little old lady (though she’d cut me out of her will for saying it out loud) but she was savvy enough to know that Tassos wasn’t here just to let her know his plans. She had run businesses in her time and knew that things were rarely as simple as a salesman suggested.

“Ah, Sheila,”