Bess tried to smile. “Thanks for cashing my traveler’s checks, even though I don’t have my passport,” she told Zoe. “I hope that miniature windmill won’t be sold before tomorrow.”
“This store—it contains many tiny replicas—boats and fish and things?”
“That’s the one!” Bess said, nodding excitedly.
“It is owned by a man named Spiros. He is a friend of my father’s,” Zoe continued. “If you like, I will call Spiros and ask him to hold the windmill for you,” she offered.
“Would you?” Bess asked. “Tell him I’ll stop by as soon as we get back from Delos tomorrow.”
Zoe nodded. “It’s the least I can do. I hope this theft doesn’t ruin your stay here in Mykonos.”
George looked over at Bess, who was smiling at a passing waiter. “I don’t think there’s any chance of that,” she said.
Nancy was awakened early Tuesday morning by the sounds of the island coming to life. After throwing back the crisp white sheets, she pushed open the wooden shutters and stepped onto the balcony.
All around her, Mykonos was bustling. Hotel workers wheeled carts of food along the path below her. To her left, three mopeds raced up the hill toward Chora. Motorboats and sailboats zigzagged through the shimmering sea on the horizon, and a group of college guys jogged along the beach.
She was watching the joggers when she spotted a young man and woman standing in the sand at the bottom of the path from the hotel. From their gesturing arms, they seemed to be arguing, though Nancy couldn’t hear them from the balcony.
She blinked as she recognized the white uniform and blue apron worn by the maids at the hotel. The girl was Niki, Nancy realized, and she was talking to Dimitri, the photographer.
Curious, Nancy leaned against the balcony rail and watched. Niki was shaking her head adamantly. She reached into a large tote bag, took out a manila envelope, and thrust it into Dimitri’s hands. Then she waved Dimitri off, turned away, and stalked up the path to the inn.
What’s inside that envelope? Nancy wondered. It was certainly large enough to contain three passports. And considering Niki’s suspicious behavior, Nancy wouldn’t be surprised if the maid was the one who had stolen the passports. She still didn’t know why Niki would steal them, but she was definitely going to try to find out.
“Wake up, you guys,” Nancy said, going back into the room. While Bess and George sleepily got out of bed, Nancy told them what she had just seen.
“That definitely seems suspicious,” Bess said, pushing her hair back with a headband and going into the bathroom to wash her face.
George glanced at the watch resting on her bedside table. “Too bad we can’t do anything about it now. We still have to get dressed and eat breakfast, and Bess has to call the embassy in Athens,” she said. “We’d better hurry if we’re going to catch the boat to Delos at ten-fifteen.”
Two hours later Nancy stood beside Mick on the deck of a thirty-foot fishing boat that was used as a ferry in the summer. Tourists milled along the deck, taking in the sunshine and the views. Bess, George, and Zoe stood by the rail, tossing bread crumbs to the gulls that flew alongside the boat, while Nancy and Mick watched.
As Nancy turned toward Mick, he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
“Look at you, with your white sundress and golden tan,” he said, “You’re beginning to look like an Aussie girl.”
“I hope that’s good,” Nancy said.
“Good? You look fabulous!”
Nancy couldn’t help thinking that he looked pretty good himself, in his khaki shorts and white T-shirt.
“We’re almost there,” Zoe said, joining Nancy and Mick as the boat nosed toward a bare green island that was no more than a few miles long. Already Nancy could see the ruins of a huge, pillared building on a hill above the tiny harbor.
“It doesn’t look as busy as Mykonos,” Bess observed.
Zoe nodded. “Delos is mostly a museum. Once the tourists leave at the end of the day, it’s deserted, except for a small hotel, government guards who protect the ruins—and the lizards who live among the ruins.”