Captive in Crete: The First Jet Wilson Cozy Mystery (Jet Wilson Cozy Mysteries Book 1) by Lyssa Stanson (phonics story books .txt) 📗

as he walked. He reminded me of someone, I just couldn’t quite place who, and I found myself staring after all. I guess context is everything.

“Hello Jet,” he said, when we were just a few feet apart.

“Matt! What on earth are you doing here?” I worked with Matt on my last contract in the derivatives back office of a big London bank. He was the head of the whole department, so far above me, but we had got on quite well, being relatively close in age.

He laughed and looked down at his attire, which was quite different from the business suits I was used to seeing him in. “I’m on holiday, what are you doing here?”

“Er, holiday too, I guess.”

“You guess? You’re not sure? Let me help, are you working?”

“No, I’m between contracts at the moment,” I said, rather stiffly. Matt always made me feel slightly inadequate, being so successful yet just a few years older than me.

“And do you plan to do anything more energetic than walk along the beach?”

“No, absolutely not.” I relaxed a bit, he was just being friendly, not judging my life choices. “Unless eating vast piles of food counts as energetic.”

He laughed. “No, it doesn’t! And are you having fun?”

That gave me pause. It was lovely to see Grandma, and Crete is one of my favourite places to be, but it’s not much fun watching someone die whilst you’re at dinner. Particularly when it turns out to be murder and you’d watched the victim arguing with your favourite relative earlier in the day.

“Wait, what’s wrong?”

Matt must have seen something in my face. I’ve never been particularly good at hiding my feelings. I turned back the way I’d come, and we walked together whilst I told Matt everything that had happened yesterday. Well, almost everything. For some reason, I found myself leaving Aristede out of the conversation, mentioning only that I had hitched a ride to Grandma’s house and that “the police” had interviewed us at our table.

“Wow! You’re right, that doesn’t sound like fun. Slightly exciting though.”

“Exciting?”

“Well, yes. You didn’t really know… Adrianna was it? And of course you know your grandma didn’t do it. So, who do you think did? Have you drawn up a list of suspects and started working out motives? I would have thought that was right up your street. You always had your nose in a detective story during breaks.”

“Well, I might have some ideas, I suppose. Although it seems to encompass half the village. And I guess it might be a way to liven up the holiday. I’m not sure I can quite call it exciting though, not while Grandma is on the list.”

“No, I guess that does put a bit of a dampener on things.”

By this time, we had walked to the end of the beach. Cliffs reared up in front of us, blocking the way. I knew that Matala, the small but lively beach resort, was just the other side of these cliffs; I also knew there was no way over them unless you brought ropes! It was turn back or stop for a drink in the little bar/café that had sprung up amongst the rocks. We stopped and I felt a little awkward. Matt had been my boss’s boss and, although we’d always got on, we’d never socialised. The rest of the department had gone for a drink after work occasionally, but Matt had never joined us.

“Er, would you like a drink? A coffee, or…” Matt obviously felt as awkward as I did. I couldn’t detect a blush under his tan, but he wasn’t quite meeting my eyes. I decided to bite the bullet. I was thirsty after the walking and talking and, to be honest, I was quite enjoying the idea of figuring out who the killer might be. Matt was right, I did love a good mystery, and he seemed willing to be my sounding board.

We settled down with a couple of bottles of Mythos and I ran through the possible suspects.

“Well, there’s Grandma of course. I know she wouldn’t hurt a fly, but we ought to include her I suppose.”

“For completeness,” suggested Matt, nodding, “Then she can be first when we start crossing people off.”

“Ooh, good idea. Next is Tassos – he’s the local inspector. Adrianna was effectively taking work off of him and he was very quick in trying to persuade Grandma to back him in his attempt at taking it back.”

“Why didn’t he get the work in the first place?”

“He doesn’t have the right qualification yet, but he thinks they will fast-track him, given the circumstances.”

“Hmm, seems a bit tenuous. I’d want to be sure I’d get what I wanted before committing murder for it.”

I laughed. “So, if it was a sure thing, then you’d commit murder?”

This time I did see a blush. “Oh, er, no. I didn’t mean… that is…”

“Don’t worry, you’re not on my list.”

He looked relieved. Maybe a little too relieved. I didn’t exactly know him well and just because he could hold down a decent job… But I was being silly. No motive, no opportunity, and no way he could be violent in any way. I knew him that well, I was sure.

“Next up, I suppose, is Melani. Or any of the taverna owners for that matter. They all have pergolas over their outdoor seating areas and Adrianna was threatening to make all of them take them down.”

“So, any of them, or maybe all of them.”

“Like on the Orient Express? Each one going into the kitchen to pour a few grains of poison into her dinner.”

“Hmm, a bit dramatic maybe.”

“Yes, but they should all be on the list.”

“Agreed. Next?”

“Hans. He’s German and lives in the village. Adrianna had declared his house illegal too. But he didn’t seem bothered by the