“Definitely,” said Bess. “We rented them when we were in Rome, and they were great.”
Ten minutes later they had rented three large mopeds from a shop across from the ferry terminal. Zoe and Bess teamed up on one bike, Nancy and Mick shared another, and Kevin and George took the third.
Clustered together outside the moped shop, studying a map of the island, the group decided to make the Temple of Apollo their first stop.
Zoe and Bess led the way to the north side of the port, turning left from the ferry terminal. In single file the mopeds buzzed along a causeway that connected the main island to a tiny islet. As they rounded a curve, a gigantic stone post-and-lintel came into view.
“That must be the temple,” Nancy said. A moment later Mick pulled into a parking lot teeming with vendors and tourists.
“This is the Temple of Apollo,” Zoe said as they all clambered off the bikes. “That doorway is called the Portora, which means ‘Great Door.’ ”
Staring up at the huge marble monument, Bess said, “That makes sense.”
Even the swarm of tourists couldn’t diminish the enormous power of the ancient structure. As the group strolled around, Nancy saw a familiar-looking man cross the marble floor of the temple.
“I can’t believe it,” she told Mick in an undertone. “Dimitri is here.”
Mick followed her gaze to the photographer, who had stopped to take a candid shot of a tiny girl.
“I wonder what he’s doing here?” Nancy asked thoughtfully. After the previous day’s discoveries, she had begun to think of Dimitri as the forger and Theo as the messenger. Could Dimitri’s presence here have anything to do with the passports? “Let’s split up, so we’re less conspicuous,” she suggested to the others.
“Good idea,” George said. She pointed to a vendor’s cart near the temple steps. “We’ll meet you back at that ice cream stand in an hour.”
Nancy was so busy watching Dimitri that she barely looked at the tan-colored marble ruins. He worked his charms on tourist after tourist, but she didn’t see any kind of exchange or unusual encounter.
After the hour had elapsed, Nancy rejoined her friends by the temple steps. Bess and Zoe wanted to move on, but Nancy hesitated.’She didn’t want to leave Dimitri.
“George and I will keep an eye on him,” Kevin volunteered. “You guys go ahead.”
Nancy started to object, but Bess interrupted. “Great! We’ll see you later.” Nancy looked at Bess quizzically but said nothing.
“No problem,” George said.
They arranged to meet for a late lunch in a popular taverna in the village. Then Bess, Zoe, Nancy, and Mick headed back toward their mopeds.
“Didn’t you get it?” Bess said to Nancy. “They want to be alone,” she went on dreamily, “to squeeze every bit of romance out of their last days together.”
Nancy laughed. “I should have guessed you’d pick up on that.”
“Too bad Kevin has to fly off to Madrid on Sunday,” Zoe said.
As Nancy climbed on the moped and wrapped her arms around Mick’s waist, she wondered again what the future held for Mick and her. Did they belong together—forever?
The rest of the morning passed quickly as they rode along the twisting roads of Naxos, passing sparkling white churches and crumbled ruins at every turn. They even saw a goat farmer who was moving his herd, the metallic clang of the goats’ bells filling the air.
Just outside town they pulled off the road at a scenic overlook. Bess and Zoe sat down on a bench as Nancy walked to the edge of the cliff. Pushing back the brim of her orange cap, Nancy took in the view of silvery green olive trees stretching in rows along the hills next to the clustered white buildings of the village.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Mick asked, coming up next to her.
“It really is,” Nancy said, and leaned contentedly against him.
The moment was broken soon after by the buzz of a moped. Turning, Nancy saw a silver moped with two people on it round the curve of the road.
The sun glinted off the chrome of the bike, blinding Nancy for a moment. She blinked, then gasped as she saw the face of the driver. An angry red scar ran from his chin to his ear.