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

it was her knocking over the shovel that put it in just the right place for me to grab it and whack Hans. So, you helped. With that screech, I mean.”

“I did?” Now he just looked confused.

“Definitely. Even if it wasn’t actually you.”

“Ok. I’ll take that.”

“Good.”

“And I’d better be going. It’s pretty late. Just one thing though.”

“Yes?”

“Er, where’s my camera?”

Chapter Seventeen – do these people never sleep?

“It should be right here.”

We were at the side of the house by the broken jasmine pot. I looked down at the mess of pottery and soil, doing my best not to think of the reason for the destruction.

“I was hiding behind the pot when I took the photo.”

“And Hans attacked you. How did he see you? Or was he close enough to hear the shutter?”

“Ah. The, er… the flash went off.” I was expecting Matt to berate me for doing something wrong, I must have changed the camera’s settings somehow, but he just looked more miserable than before.

“I should have been here,” he said, “It should have been me taking that picture.”

I thought about contradicting him but, actually, I couldn’t help but agree, so I said nothing. Instead I picked up a sturdy twig of jasmine and poked around in the pile of debris. Bingo.

“Here it is,” I said, holding the camera up triumphantly. It was covered in soil with a leaf jammed under the flash cover. Matt looked at it dubiously, and I pulled the leaf out. He took it off me and gave it a shake. Earth cascaded to the ground.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he said, “I’ll give it a thorough clean and see what I can get from the picture.”

“Will we still need that do you think? I mean, he incriminated himself just by coming here and he more or less confessed to me.”

“Every little helps, I guess. Might as well see what we’ve got. It can’t hurt.”

“Matt, why weren’t you here?” Oh dear, that just slipped out.

“I am so, so sorry Jet. But I really can’t tell you why. I hope I can one day, but...”

“I know, you made a promise to your mum.” I sighed and mentally pulled myself together. Or at least tried to.

“I’ll just have to remain a man of mystery for now,” he said with a frankly pathetic attempt at a smile.

“Hmm, I guess so.”

“And you know you love a good mystery.”

At that I laughed.

“That’s certainly true,” I said.

At that moment, I realised I was proud of myself for the way I’d managed to fight off Hans. That, and solve a murder case that the police hadn’t a clue about. At least, not a proper one!

“From now on, you can call me Holmes,” I said.

“Or maybe Miss Marple?”

“I think I prefer Holmes.”

“But then I’d have to be Watson, and I’m not a doctor.”

“That’s ok, I don’t smoke a pipe, or play a violin. And I’m not about to take either one up.”

“Ok, deal. Holmes it is.”

We laughed together. I was glad to be back on friendly terms with Matt. It felt wrong to be angry with him.

“It’s late, I’d better go,” he said, after our laughter had subsided.

“Aristede’s coming back in the morning. Do you want to be here? You’re welcome to come for breakfast.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think so. I’m sure he doesn’t need to talk to me. And I should think about packing.”

“You’re leaving? So soon?”

“Yes. My holiday was only for a week. My flight leaves early on Sunday.”

Ah yes, he was on a normal person’s holiday. And I hadn’t thought about how long he’d been here before we met up.

“You’ll let me know about the picture?”

“Absolutely. I’ll get the camera cleaned up tomorrow and message you with whatever we’ve got. Or rather today,” he added, with a glance at his watch.

“Oh, yes of course, it is late. Thank you for all your help, Matt. I really do mean that.”

“You didn’t need me, you had it all under control. But I’m glad I was here. Mostly.”

His face threatened to drop again so I quickly gave him a hug.

“Have a good flight. Let’s meet up when I’m back in London.”

“Yes, I guess you’ll need a job then. Maybe I’ll see if I can get you something in the investigations department.”

I laughed, “That would be cool.”

“Bye Jet,” he said. He reached out and patted my arm, then he turned and walked up the path and into the night.

Chapter Eighteen – Saturday morning

The following morning, Grandma and I both slept late. When I finally woke and checked my phone, it was well past ten and the usual sounds of Grandma pottering about in the kitchen were noticeably absent.

I lay in bed, luxuriating in the warmth and comfort, until I suddenly remembered Aristede saying he would come back in the morning. There wasn’t much of that left! I threw back the covers and headed for the shower.

When I came out, Grandma had appeared, and the smell of coffee drew me to the kitchen. I helped myself to a cup and gave Grandma a good look over as she moved to and fro getting yogurt, fruit, bread, and cheese out for breakfast. She looked a bit thinner but otherwise unharmed by her ordeal. I pondered how to broach the subject, and find out how she really was, without bringing up upsetting memories. She had gone to bed straight after showing Aristede out, so we hadn’t had time to talk.

“Did you find Matt’s camera?” she asked, sitting down opposite me with a steaming cup of her own.

“Yes, no problem. He’s going to give it a clean and see what he can get from the picture I took.” I decided not to mention