The Forty Column Castle

The Forty Column Castle by Marjorie Thelen Page A

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Authors: Marjorie Thelen
incident. This morning was the first
     time I was able to get through.”
    Incident? He looked so nonchalant about murder. Two people were dead, and he was reporting
     an incident. Cool customer. I wondered what he was going to do with me. Being in an
     altered state, it was hard to get up enough energy to care. He didn’t look any the
     worse for sleeping in the Rover last night. I figured he thought I would steal it
     and make my getaway. So much for the sizzling sparks I thought were flying between
     us.
    His wet hair had dried, but he must have used the unfriendly hotel soap because he
     sported the same wild flyaway hair. That and his unshaven jaw gave him a piratical
     look. But his unsmiling face said he was angry about something. He sat with his shoulders
     hunched over like he was guarding a secret.
    “I want to call Yannis,” I said, laying down my fork and heaving a satisfied sigh.
     At least my belly was happy.
    Zach chewed silently, studying my face. He didn’t respond but washed down a swallow
     with a coffee chaser.
    “I need to know what is going on and let Yannis know that I’m okay.” I didn’t say
     safe, just okay.
    Zach fished in his pocket, pulled out my cell phone and handed it to me.
    “Don’t give him any more information than that. Not right now.”
    This guy was something. What did he possibly think I could do by calling Yannis? Unless
     he thought that Yannis might be in on the smuggling ring. I was afraid of that. That’s
     probably why he permitted me the call. Two thieves making contact.
    I hoped I could catch Yannis before he went to work.
    “Ney, ney.”
    “Yannis.”
    “Princess? Where are you? Are you all right? We are worried to death about you.”
    “I’m okay. Have you heard anything about my aunt?”
    “Nothing. She seems to have disappeared into thin air. The police were here after
     you left, and they want you to come in for questioning.”
    “Don’t think I will right now.”
    “They have an all points bulletin out on you. You are on a wanted list.”
    “Me? Gosh, that sounds kind of criminal.”
    “If you don’t want them to find you, you better lay low. This is a small country.
     With your movie star looks, people will recognize you if the police post a photo of
     you.”
    “You didn’t give them one, did you?”
    “Not yet. But if they keep the pressure on I may have to. Our police are very efficient.
     We don’t have a high crime rate and don’t want one. They appear to be getting extremely
     impatient with the smuggling ring and are eager to make some arrests and have done
     with it.”
    “Gosh.” I didn’t know what else to say. This all sounded so serious. Up until yesterday
     morning I thought this would be an open and shut case, but now two people were dead.
     Things were a lot more complicated.
    “Where are you?” Yannis asked.
    An innocent enough question.
    I looked at Zach who was listening to every word, of course. “Hold on a second, Yannis.”
     I put my hand over the mouthpiece.
    “Yannis says there’s a bulletin out on me and wants to know where I am. Are you going
     to let me go?”
    I felt stupid asking permission but this guy had the gun, after all.
    He shook his head. “Let me talk to him.” He reached for the phone. I reluctantly handed
     it over.
    “Hi, Yannis. Claudie is fine. She stopped and asked for my help yesterday. I’m taking
     good care of her.” He smiled at me like he was doing a good job of it. “Yes, we’re
     making the best of an unfortunate situation.”
    He listened for a moment, then said, “Better we don’t tell you where we are.”
    Poor Yannis. I know he was thinking the worst. He had warned me about Zach, but for
     the wrong reasons. I wanted to snatch the phone away and pour out the whole long,
     pitiful story to Yannis, but Zach had the cell phone firmly in his grip.
    “We need to do some investigating of our own. Can you give me the address of Mrs.
     Crawford, the English widow you went to

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