A Deadly Twist by Jeffrey Siger

Author:Jeffrey Siger [Siger, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Police Procedural, International Mystery & Crime, Thrillers, Political, Crime
ISBN: 9781464214271
Google: uGXwDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B088P5ZYPF
Goodreads: 57564691
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press
Published: 2020-04-28T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

After leaving the beach, they followed the highway north toward Chora. A few minutes later they entered the area of Kastraki, passing between fields of hay, olives, and pasture, all bordered in the distance by clusters of modern white villas. Beyond a row of beach pines, Andreas turned right into a dusty parking lot and stopped beside a pale ochre roadhouse cloistered by olive, fig, apricot, and pomegranate, well-tended gardens, and a veranda draped in bougainvillea, hibiscus, and grape.

“What’s this place?” asked Lila.

“Tassos’s friend said it might be the best taverna in the Cyclades.”

“It’s where our meeting is set for tomorrow,” said Tassos. “I figured since we’re in the area, why not take a peek at it?”

“As long as the food is good, I don’t care about your ulterior motives,” said Lila, opening her rear door and sliding out.

“Ditto on that,” said Maggie, getting out the other side.

Andreas looked at Tassos. “Hardly a serious wisecrack from the crew in the back. I guess they really are hungry.”

“They’re not alone in that. And that’s not a coincidence; it’s a fact.”

Andreas shook his head. “I still can’t believe a Zagori look-alike was in that bar nights before the real Zagori arrived on Naxos.”

“I admit it’s freaky. But what other explanation is there other than coincidence?”

“That’s what I’m asking you.”

“Perhaps lunch will inspire me.”

They caught up with Lila and Maggie waiting just inside the entrance to a large empty room next to an open kitchen. A bearded young man said hello and led them out onto an even larger L-shaped veranda where diners happily chatted away at traditional taverna chairs and tables painted terracotta and olive.

“I think I’m going to like this place.” Lila pointed to a small ceramic tile depicting a fish and olives mounted onto a concrete pillar supporting the veranda’s beam and double-slatted roof. “I love the little touches.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” said Tassos.

Maggie poked him. “Nobody likes a smart-ass.”

“That’s okay,” said Lila. “We know he’s only trying to hide his sensitive side.”

The young man showed them to a corner table on the side of the veranda farthest from the road.

“I suspect that big room next to the kitchen is for use in the winter,” said Lila.

Tassos nodded. “A lot of tavernas are like that. Summers, everyone wants to sit outside, winters it’s back inside.”

They ordered off the menu and from a wall-mounted chalkboard listing specials, each picking a dish for the table to share. As courses like mussels in wine, grilled figs with local cheese, deep-fried little fishes, and sardines stuffed with capers and cherry tomatoes drew praises of “best ever,” “fantastic,” and “amazing,” they expanded their order to mackerel and fava, shrimps in lemon, rabbit in tomato, oven-cooked chicken with potatoes, and a few repeats. All accompanied by the house’s homemade wine.

At the end of the meal, after the plates had been cleared and desserts refused amid myriad I-must-watch-my-waistline excuses, a man in his late thirties came to their table carrying a tray filled with fruits.

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