Captive in Crete: The First Jet Wilson Cozy Mystery (Jet Wilson Cozy Mysteries Book 1) by Lyssa Stanson (phonics story books .txt) 📗
- Author: Lyssa Stanson
Book online «Captive in Crete: The First Jet Wilson Cozy Mystery (Jet Wilson Cozy Mysteries Book 1) by Lyssa Stanson (phonics story books .txt) 📗». Author Lyssa Stanson
“Oh, that’s good.”
“We shouldn’t need it now though. Hans pretty much confessed when he attacked me.”
“You were so brave, to take on that man,” Grandma said, covering my hand in hers. “You must have been so scared. How are you feeling this morning? Really, I mean.”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you! You were locked up for almost three days. A little scuffle in the garden hardly compares.”
“Nonsense, I was never in any danger. I was very well looked after. You could have been killed.”
“But you didn’t know what they would do. The worry must have been intolerable.”
Grandma opened her mouth to speak and then paused. Then she laughed. At first I was confused, but then I caught her drift and laughed with her.
“Your plight was more terrible than mine,” I said, in the most pompous tone I could muster.
“No, no,” she responded, in a similar tone. “Yours was much the worse.”
We howled with laughter. I guess it was the release of the stress from the last few days, but we were almost hysterical. Every time we almost stopped, one or the other of us would suddenly snort with laughter and we would be off again.
The sight of Aristede standing in the doorway brought me up short, though.
“Oh, hello Aristede,” I said, “We were just discussing…” A laugh bubbled up and I was momentarily unable to speak.
“Who was in most danger!” finished Grandma, and we both howled with laughter again.
“Yes, I can see that would be very funny,” he said, dryly. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Do not mind me, I can wait.”
Grandma was the first to recover and offered Aristede coffee and bread. He accepted a cup of coffee and sipped it slowly for a few minutes before speaking. Probably to make sure we had definitely finished and had ourselves under control.
“Hans has confessed to everything,” he finally began. “He insists it was an accident, though. He invited Adrianna for tea to talk to her about his house. He bought some snacks that he thought might sweeten her mood. They were a special version which, he later found out, contained karythiá.”
“Walnuts,” said Grandma.
“And that was what she was allergic to?” I asked.
“Yes. My guess is she thought they were the usual type and that she was safe to eat them.”
“So, you believe him? That it was an accident?”
“Yes. Naturally, he is still in a lot of trouble, though. He lied to the police about a suspicious death and then there is the attempted murder charge.”
My hand went instinctively to my throat. I had examined it closely this morning in the bathroom. Light bruising, but nothing very noticeable.
“Will Jet need to testify?” asked Grandma.
“Probably not. The confession should simplify things. But we will have to wait and see. Greek justice can be slow, at least once we have the criminal in custody.”
“Can I leave the country then? Not today, I mean. Just when I’m ready.”
He looked at me with those deep, dark eyes.
“I just need to do something in the garden,” said Grandma, and hastily left the room.
“Jet,” he said and then paused and looked away.
“Of course, you are free to go. I had thought… or hoped…” He looked back and, once again, captured me with those eyes, “…that we might become friends.”
I felt my pulse speed up and warmth crept up my neck. My lips parted. But I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“But because of the case,” he continued, “Because of your part in it. I must stay…”
“Impartial,” I finished for him, “I understand.”
“Do you Jet?”
“Yes. Getting justice for Adrianna is more important than any feelings I might… that is, we might…”
“I’m sorry Jet.”
I nodded, clenching my jaw to keep my feelings in check. I was being silly, really. We hardly knew each other. And not so long ago, he thought I was related to a murderer. That thought helped me maintain my calm demeanour.
“Do you have any idea who kidnapped Grandma?”
“Not who, but we have a pretty good idea why.” He glanced toward the door where Grandma was still pottering in the garden.
“Tell me.”
He smiled. No, he smirked. What was going on?”
“We found the trail she mentioned and the field. It had been harvested.”
“Surely you can find out who it belongs to then? They must know something,”
“Oh, I am quite sure that they do.”
It was definitely a smirk. It was starting to irritate me.
“Well then.”
He sighed. Those ‘maple leaves’ Sheila saw?”
“Maple-like, yes.”
“It was a cannabis field.”
“Oh!” I laughed, “I guess finding out who owns it isn’t so easy then.”
“Not so easy, no.”
“They were keeping her out of the way until after the harvest?”
“Yes, I think so. I doubt we will ever catch them, but I’ve notified the mainland authorities and they will notify the relevant international forces. That is all I can really do.”
“Well, she says they looked after her well enough and she seems unhurt.”
“Oh yes. Cretan hospitality wouldn’t allow them to harm her.”
Aristede stood up and turned to leave. At the door, he paused and turned back to me.
“I almost forgot. We also arrested Spiros. You will have no more trouble from him.”
“Spiros? But why? Hans is the killer. I was wrong about Spiros.”
“It was Spiros who dumped the lamb on your doorstep. Ireni next door, she saw him carrying a bloody sack and told one of my officers last night.”
I laughed. “So, you arrested him, for what?”
Aristede grinned back. “Littering,” he said, “He was very upset. I think he is too concerned with his image, that one.”
“Yes. But he may have saved my life. If I hadn’t left the shovel there…” I shuddered. “Best not to think
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