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

“Yes.”

“Well, well.” She sat back in her chair. “I always thought the police were a bit stupid, but I never realised they were crazy.”

“I actually wanted to ask you about something else,” I started, “something not related to Grandma going missing that is.”

“Ask me anything my dear.”

“If I were thinking of moving here, maybe starting a family here, what sort of income would I need. To be comfortable, you know, not rich but not poor.”

Melani glanced across at Matt who looked a bit like a rabbit in headlights. We hadn’t discussed how best to approach the subject of Tassos’s income, and I was just winging it. I hoped he would be able to play along and not give me away by leaping up and running screaming into the night.

He bowed his head and started studiously spooning tzatziki onto a slice of toasted garlic bread. That was good enough, I thought.

Melani named a figure that was only slightly above the combined salary and dividend number Matt had got from the accounts.

“That doesn’t allow for teenagers, though,” she clarified. “They can be very expensive, especially if they want to go to university.”

“Oh, no fear of that,” I said, “I’m not that bright and I doubt my children would be.”

“Don’t say that Jet.” Matt looked up from his food, a frown on his face. “You’re plenty clever. And I’m really brainy,” he finished with a smirk.

I felt myself blush. That was getting just a little too much into the part. If Melani told Grandma what we’d been saying I’d never hear the last of it. I needed to explain it all to her before they met up again or they would have organised the wedding, where we would live, and what our first-born would be called before they’d even finished their first coffee.

I felt a sharp pang of loneliness. I just hoped that, wherever she was, Grandma was all right.

“Oh, it’s early days,” I said, “I haven’t decided on their father just yet.” Two could play at this game.

Matt laughed and went back to his food.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your dinner,” said Melani and got up to leave. “You let me know if I can do anything to help, Jet. And make sure you let me know as soon as you hear anything, or Sheila turns up.”

“I will, I promise.”

“I’m sure she’s all right. Probably just got lost and is trying to explain to some hill villager where she lives. Her Greek is not so good as she thinks you know.”

She gave me a hug and left, making her way between tables and chatting to customers as she went.

“I guess that puts Tassos firmly on the suspect list, then,” said Matt.

“Definitely,” I agreed. “He has three daughters and all destined for university according to the local gossip, which seems pretty accurate so far as I can tell.”

“Next steps then?”

“No idea. I think an early night and let my subconscious sort it out.”

“Sounds like a plan. Well, sort of.”

We finished our meal, paid the bill and went our separate ways. I hoped tomorrow would bring a burst of inspiration. Or, even better, Grandma’s return.

Chapter Thirteen – Friday morning

I didn’t sleep well. I woke up several times during the night. Once I heard footsteps across the roof but soon realised it must be the cat. Or maybe one of her furry friends checking up on her. She must surely be too far along to be jumping onto rooves.

I finally woke up groggy and out of sorts. I tossed and turned for a while, trying to get back to sleep. I even tried lying on my back and meditating, that usually sends me off. But it was no use. Gradually I started to notice a bad smell. Like meat gone off. Clearly Grandma had been due to put out the rubbish and I hadn’t thought to do it.

I flung back the covers and groaned. The sun was shining, it was going to be another gorgeous day – weather-wise at least – so I grabbed yesterday’s t-shirt and shorts, a shower could wait, and went to investigate the kitchen.

The smell was definitely stronger in here but when I got to the bin, it was empty. I looked all around but no tied-up bag languished forgotten in a corner. I tried the fridge but there was little in there apart from beer, lemonade, milk, and yogurt.

I wandered round the room, sniffing. It was stronger by the door; yes, the smell was definitely coming from outside. I thought of the pregnant cat and hoped it wasn’t dead kitten I was smelling. I couldn’t face that on top of everything else. Gingerly I opened the door and peeked out.

My stomach flipped at the sight. Not dead kitten, thankfully, but much worse. Jumbled on the ground in front of the door was a heap of internal organs. What (or who) from I had no idea but too large to be kitten, or even cat. I spotted liver, kidney, intestines and a heart. I felt my gorge rise and was thankful I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet.

I slammed the door again and rushed to my bedroom for my phone. I fished Aristede’s card from my pocket and dialled with a shaky hand.

* * * * *

“The doctor think’s it’s probably from a pig,” said Aristede, handing me a glass of water.

“Thank you. At least it’s not human, I guess.”

“Yes, that would not be good,” he said, with a wry smile. “Can you think of anyone who would want to scare you? Or upset you? Have you argued with anyone lately?”

“No. Well, there’s Spiros, of course.”

“Yes. But I would be surprised if it were him. Not straight after an argument in front of the police chief.”

“No, that would be pretty stupid,” I said,