CHAPTER TWO

“We still have time to catch the sunset,” Case said.

We were standing on the front porch in the evening dusk, light from the nearby windows casting a soft glow around us. The rest of the family were still sitting around the table on the back patio, everyone stuffed to the max after having their fill of baklava and vanilla ice cream.

I rubbed my neck, still feeling the aches and pains from my struggle with a killer just one night before. After a long, covered yawn, I was sure Case didn’t need to hear my answer. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so tired and full. I just want to crash into bed.”

He reached over to massage my shoulders. “I understand. Get some sleep and feel better. But before I go, let’s talk about the fair.”

“We don’t need to go to the fair, Case. That was just my father’s suggestion. I’m not actually a fan of the fair. It’s always hot and crowded . . . and smelly . . . and who knows if the rides are safe.”

“Don’t be a stick in the mud, Athena. We need to go for Niko’s sake. What child doesn’t love the fair? Who can resist an elephant’s ear, or hot corn on the cob dripping with butter? My mouth is watering just thinking about it.”

“Is this for Niko’s sake or for yours?”

“For all three of us. We deserve to have some fun.”

I walked to the edge of the porch and stared up at the stars, waging a war in my head. Did I want to go to the fair? Absolutely not. I’d been forced into going with my family every year, even as a teenager. It wasn’t just the rides or the food, or the disgusting smells of animals wafting out from the pavilions that had turned me off, but the crowds of people. People everywhere, moving in every direction. People staring at me and bumping into one another. It made my nerves sizzle.

Did I appreciate the pressure from my family and Case? Not one bit. I was Nicholas’s mom. I should be the one who decided whether to go. But how could I ignore the hopeful look in my son’s eyes? How could I ignore my family? Or Case? My conscience said I couldn’t.

Case came up behind me and put his arm around my shoulders. “It’s just one night.”

With a resigned sigh, I said, “You’re right. I owe it to Nicholas.”

Case lifted my chin with his fingertip. “It’ll be fun, our first fair together. Come on. Don’t look so sad.”

I forced a smile. “Is that better?”

“I think a kiss would be even better than that.”

He dipped his head down, and his lips met mine, softly and tenderly, for a long minute. He pulled back and smiled at me, touching the tip of my nose. “Now, go back and tell Niko we’re going to the fair this week. He’ll be overjoyed.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m sorry for being such a bummer tonight. And I’m sorry if my grandmother embarrassed you.”

He leaned over for one more kiss. “Maybe she was right.”

* * *

As I watched Case drive away, I had a sudden inspiration for my blog, so I jogged straight upstairs and went to my room to write it.

For the past several months, I’d been writing a daily blog anonymously, mainly because the topic was usually family related and I didn’t want them to know I was skewering them. I’d developed a large following over those months, including my mom, my sisters, and even my dad. Unfortunately, my dad had accidentally stumbled upon the fact that the blogger was me, and Delphi suspected as much, but neither one had given me up. The rest of the clan were convinced it was someone within the Greek community, and it had become a topic of discussion at my grandparents’ diner in the mornings. So I purposely made the blog topics vague so my identity would remain anonymous.

So far, so good.

I opened my laptop and began.

 

IT’S ALL GREEK TO ME
Blog by Goddess Anon

 

Oh, That Family!

 

“There’s nothing that makes you more insane
than family. Or more happy. Or more exasper-
ated. Or more . . . secure.”—Jim Butcher

I don’t know who Jim Butcher is, but he sure hit the nail on the head. Families know exactly the right thing to say or do to exasperate you. They also know how to make you laugh—and drive you nuts, something I experienced just recently when we butted heads on a personal matter. What it comes down to is this: Does my family really know what’s best for me? Do I trust my family enough to go against my own instincts?

I guess the whole “who’s right” dilemma depends on how I’m feeling at that particular moment, and my most recent experience with a family decision did not leave me feeling very happy, even though I knew what they were pushing me to do would ultimately be in my best interests. Still, there are times when you have to go with your gut feeling no matter what the family thinks, if only for your own peace of mind.

With that said, however, there is security in being with a family that loves me so intimately and deeply that they would risk my ire. Even if they drive me batty, they are still my family, and I would be lost without them.

May I never take them for granted.

This is Goddess Anon bidding you antio sas.

Monday

 

The morning started out the way mornings usually did, with a stop at my grandparents’ diner, the Parthenon, for breakfast. When Nicholas and I arrived, my sister Maia was sitting at a booth, with my mom looking over her shoulder, both reading something on Maia’s laptop. Delphi sat beside Maia, staring at her phone.

Mama glanced around, saw us, and waved us over. I paused in front of the kitchen’s pass-through window to say good morning to my grandparents.

“Tí kánis?” I called. How are you?

My grandmother shrugged. “Well enough.” My grandfather gave me a thumbs-up.

My mom was wearing her standard hostess outfit—a blue blouse “the color of the Ionian Sea” with black slacks and flats and her stack of gold bracelets. All the waitresses wore the same color blouses with black skirts or slacks, complementing the blue background of the Parthenon’s murals. Each of the two side walls had a huge Greek mural on it, one of the Parthenon itself, the other of the Acropolis.

Deep-red booths lined the dark golden walls, and ancient black-and-white linoleum covered the floor. The long, faded yellow lunch counter with its red leather–cushioned stools separated the diner into two halves, each side with booths and tables that were almost full. Behind the yellow counter was the wide pass-through window that always showed Yiayiá and Pappoús hard at work in the galley kitchen at the back.

“Hello, my little Niko,” my mother crooned, “my little glykiá mou.” My sweetie. She hugged him and then turned to give me a peck on the cheek. “Kali-méra, Thenie.”

“Good morning to you, too, Mama,” I said, and slid into the booth beside Nicholas. “I’ll have a bowl of oatmeal,” I told her

“An egg and cheese omeletta,” Nicholas said, using my grandfather’s word for omelet.

“I’ve already put your orders in,” Mama said, then slid into the booth beside Maia, putting her directly across from me. “You need to read Goddess Anon’s blog today, Thenie,” she said. “It’s all about the importance of family.”

“Actually,” I said, “I read it this morning.”

My two younger sisters looked up from their screens. Maia spoke first. “You actually read the blog?”

“That’s a first,” Delphi added.

Mama raised her eyebrow. “And?”

“And I thought it made a good point about a person being able to decide things for herself.”

“But ultimately, the family decision is what’s for the best,” Mama argued.

“What about you, Mama?” I asked her. “Do you decide things for yourself, or do you wait for a group decision?”

Mama stared at me for a moment, clearly caught off guard. “Well,” she said at last, “I suppose I decide for myself. But what Goddess Anon was ultimately saying was that family decisions come out of love.”

“Even though they may be misguided,” I added.

Mama scowled at me, then rose from the table and came back with the coffeepot to fill my mug. “Have you given any more thought to taking some time off?”

“Yes,” I said. “Don’t worry. We’re going to take Nicholas to the fair.”

“But now you’re working with this redheaded woman on a new case. How does that leave time for other things?”

“Mama,” I said with exasperation, “I have time to work on a case and work at Spencer’s, too.”

“Leaving little time for your son,” she fired back.

“Not true!” I replied.

“Mom,” Nicholas said in a whisper, “you and Yiayiá are getting loud.”

“Sorry, Niko,” I said, and put my arm around his shoulders. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

Instead of letting it drop, Maia asked, “So, Thenie, what kind of case is it?”

It was the question I’d been hoping no one would ask. I knew Mama would not be pleased.

“It’s a murder investigation,” I said.

“The model’s murder?” my mother instantly asked.

Our food came then, so I waited until the waitress had gone to say, “Yes.”

“You know Eleni Papadakis is involved,” Mama said. “Our Eleni.”

“It’s Eleni Sloan now,” I corrected. “She’s married to Mayor Sloan, remember?”

“You know what I mean,” Mama said. “She’s one of us. You shouldn’t get involved.”

I paused with a spoonful of oatmeal in front of my mouth. “Because she’s Greek?”

“It wouldn’t look right,” Mama said.

“I’ve investigated several members of the Greek Merchants Association, and you had no problem with that. What other excuse are you going to use?”

Mama huffed. “I still say you’re stretching yourself too thin. Let Delphi take over some of your duties at Spencer’s.”

“Hey!” Delphi said. “I already do a lot. Besides, Bobby and I have started ballroom dance lessons, so I’ll have to leave early some days.”

Mama turned her full attention to her youngest daughter, whose wide-eyed expression relayed a sudden realization of her mistake. Never give Mama information unless you want it dissected. “Dance lessons! Why do you want to take dance lessons?”

Delphi shrugged. “We want to learn how to dance.”

“Do we need a family vote on that?” I asked, purposely being snarky.

Mama frowned at me. “Don’t get smart, young lady. I think Delphi can make her own decision.”

“Exactly my point,” I said. “Some things don’t need a family to decide.”

With a huff, my mother got up and left. The rest of us finished our breakfasts in pleasant silence.

After we’d eaten, Nicholas and I stopped by the pass-through to pick up two breakfasts to go, one for my dad and one for my cousin Drew. We walked the four blocks down Greene Street to Spencer’s and went inside through the big red doors into what used to be a large barn. The doors had been retrofitted with large glass windows, making the entrance more inviting, and there were long windows across the front and sides of the store. This allowed a generous amount of natural light into the garden center and made the statue of Athena shine in the entryway.

My grandfather, Sam Spencer, had taken the old barn and transformed it with a new arched ceiling, lots of windows, fresh paint on the walls, and aisles for all the gardening supplies anyone could ever want. Besides the gardening supplies, Spencer’s had flower and vegetable plants, and all the way at the back, sets of patio furniture, including a long oak-plank table we used for the Greek Merchants Association meetings that met monthly at Spencer’s.

Directly in front of us was the statue, Treasure of Athena, who beckoned to everyone who walked in the door. To the left was the checkout counter, and behind it was a door that led to the office. A short hallway led to a bathroom, conference room, and kitchenette, where we ate our lunches in inclement weather. Otherwise, we took our food out the back door into the open patio area, a large cement pad outlined by a string of white lights and swaying paper lanterns where more outdoor furniture was displayed. There was also an outdoor cabinet for supplies, including a jar of peanuts and a few shiny toys we kept on hand for Oscar, the baby raccoon who’d been abandoned by his mother.

Beyond the patio area were rows of shrubs, roses, large landscape plants, and saplings, filling the one-acre space all the way back to the white picket fence. The fence separated Spencer’s from a lane that ran behind all the shops on Greene Street and was where the trash containers were kept.

I found my cousin Drew unpacking a box of rose fertilizer and handed him his breakfast container. Drew was a hard worker, full of pep and energy, although his stomach was seemingly bottomless. He quickly dropped the fertilizer and popped open the lid.

“Wash your hands first,” I told him.

I left Nicholas there to help Drew, then headed back to the office to find my father.

The office was a generously sized room filled with a big oak desk, two wooden chairs that faced the desk, a console table against the opposite wall that held a Keurig coffee machine, and a mini-fridge for coffee creamer, water, and snacks. My father was sitting at the desk drinking his morning coffee, so I set his breakfast container down and went to make myself a cup.

“I smell pancakes and sausage,” Dad said, pulling the container toward him.

“That was for Drew,” I said. “You get grapefruit and toast. You know what the doctor told you.”

He looked inside the foam container and then closed it again. “I wasn’t hungry anyway.” He turned back toward the computer and moved the mouse. “Interesting topic in your blog today.”

“Pops, be careful. Delphi will be here any minute.”

“I thought you said she knew about your secret identity.”

“She thought she knew, but then when I confirmed it, she accused me of trying to trick her.”

He moved the mouse again. “There,” he said. “It’s closed. And I got the point of your blog.”

“Good, because Mama didn’t get it.”

My dad leaned back in the swivel desk chair. “Thenie, it’s your decision, of course, but your mother had a point, too. You can and should take some time off. Delphi can certainly do more around here.”

“Thanks, Pops. And actually, I may need more time off for this case. It’s a big one, with high-profile people involved.”

“I was just reading an article about the murder in the news this morning. The mayor’s wife, Eleni Sloan, is one of the high-profile people, I believe, as is the police chief’s wife.”

“Yep. They were the other two models in the fashion show. And because Eleni Sloan is involved, Mama is not happy about me helping with the case.”

“I believe it. She and Eleni grew close when Eleni was the chair of the GMA.”

“Well, she’s just going to have to get over it. I’m not going to tell Abby Knight that I can’t work with her because my mother isn’t happy. And I’m not going to start making my decisions based on what the family thinks I should do, either.”

“Thenie, don’t get so worked up. No one is trying to run your life. We’re just suggesting you take a little time away from work. Take Niko to the fair. Have some fun. Life is too short to work yourself to death.”

“I get that, Pops. Don’t worry. I’ll take a step back here at Spencer’s as long as you trust Delphi to take over some of my duties. But I’m still going to do investigative work.”

“Mom?”

I turned to see my son poking his head through the doorway. “Drew said there was something here for me. Hi, Grandpops.”

“Morning, Niko,” my dad said. “Yes, there is something here for you.” He reached for a plastic grocery bag on the desktop. “Elissa Reed dropped this off for you early this morning.”

Nicholas opened the bag, and his eyes lit up. “She found it!” He pulled out a bright yellow rubber dog bone that rattled when shaken. “This is Oscar’s favorite. I’ll have to go show him. Thanks, Grandpops!”

Nicholas scooted out the door and took off for the back patio. Oscar’s toys had started to disappear after Nicholas introduced his new friend, Denis Reed, to our adolescent raccoon, who had made his home in the garden center out back. Unfortunately, Denis was so envious of Nicholas having a pet raccoon that he began taking Oscar’s toys, wanting to adopt a raccoon of his own. Elissa had apparently just discovered another missing toy and brought it back.

My dad checked his wristwatch. “Looks like I’d better turn over the computer to you and get ready to open for the day. And don’t give a thought to Delphi taking over some of your duties. She’s a lot more competent than she lets on.”

I took a sip of coffee and sat down at the big desk, opening the accounting app on the computer. I paused for a moment to reflect on all the changes in Spencer’s since I’d moved back home. I’d convinced my dad to hire Cousin Drew for the summer to handle the extra business we always had from May through September, I’d rearranged the store’s aisles to be more practical, and I’d accessorized the outdoor furniture area to stage the setting for potential buyers. And though I’d also taken over the accounting and purchasing end of the business, and worked with customers on landscape design, none of my duties had been enough to keep my curious mind occupied.

Working on murder investigations with Case had been a godsend. But I had been putting in some very long days doing both jobs recently. Maybe I could step back with no guilt. Maybe Delphi would step up and surprise me. And maybe, just maybe, I’d actually enjoy going to the fair.

* * *

At ten minutes before one o’clock, I paused outside the redbrick building at 535 Greene Street and glanced up at the sign that now hung suspended from the brick: The Greene St. Detective Agency. Heaving a happy sigh, I opened the door between two businesses, the Greene Street Deli and Majestic Jewelers, and proceeded up the stairs to the second floor.

I stopped in front of a door with a frosted glass pane and turned the handle. The door opened onto a reception area furnished with a sleek gray modern desk and a row of gray chairs facing the desk. To the right of the reception area were two offices side by side. The first office was Case’s and had a window that looked down on Greene Street. The second office was identical to the first and was mine. My office was furnished in light oak and Case’s in a rich dark walnut wood.

“Hi,” I said, standing in Case’s doorway. He sat at his desk with his back to the window, facing his computer monitor. He glanced over the top of the monitor and smiled. “Come on in.”

“You look busy.”

He smiled. “We just got another job.”

“Really?” I joined Case in front of his computer to read the email he had pulled up.

“There’s a new company opening up in Saugatuck,” he said, “a big operation, and the CEO wants me to do background checks on people applying for management positions.”

“That’s great, Case! Two jobs in two days. When do you start?”

“Well,” he said gently, “that’s the bad news. I have to travel to Saugatuck this morning, so I won’t be able to go to the jail with you.”

I sat down, surprised by the news. “That’s almost two hours away. When will you be back?”

“It’s more like an hour and twenty minutes, and I’ll be back today. I just don’t know when. Why, are you concerned?”

“I’m not concerned.”

“Really? Because your face is telling a whole different story.”

“I need your help, Case. I’m not the professional. You are.”

“What are you worried about? Abby will be with you.”

“Exactly, and she’s counting on both of us to help her with this case.”

Case sat back in his chair. “Is that why she came to see me first at the detective agency?”

“She did?”

“No,” Case answered, smiling. “She came to the garden center to see you. The Goddess of Greene Street.”

A knock at the outer door made us pause.

“Maybe that’s Abby now,” I said. “And I get your point. I just feel more comfortable when you’re around.”

“I wouldn’t have taken the second job if I didn’t have complete faith in you,” Case said, rising from his seat.

We walked out of his office into the reception area, leaving our conversation unfinished. Case opened the door to find Lila Talbot leaning against a large, ornate oak frame, breathing heavily.

“Did you carry that all the way up here?” I asked, as Case picked it up and moved it into the reception area.

“I practically dragged it,” she said, following us inside. “I didn’t realize how heavy it was until I got it out of the van.”

Case set the four-foot-tall frame next to the painting leaning against the wall behind the reception desk. The painting was a rendering of the Statue of Athena that Elissa Reed had painted for the Save the Dunes art auction. Lila had outbid everyone and graciously donated the painting to our business.

“It should hang right there,” Lila said, pointing to the large bare space above the reception desk. “It’ll be the first thing people see when they walk in.” She reached into her oversized purse and pulled out a tape measure, a small hammer, and a package of picture hangers. “I came prepared.”

Lila was a spoiled, forty-year-old former beauty pageant winner and drama queen who had been married to Grayson Talbot Jr., the wealthiest man in Sequoia, who was now cooling his heels in jail. Of medium height with blond hair that she wore in a high, swinging ponytail during the day and long and silky at night, Lila was dressed in her usual tight T-shirt and yoga pants, today’s outfit in neon pink and black. Because of a generous divorce settlement, Lila was now the wealthiest woman in town and had bankrolled our detective agency. In return, she asked to be included in our investigations, which sometimes, but not always, worked to our advantage.

“Abby’s going to be here any minute,” I said, as Case measured the wall.

“Five minutes is all we need,” Lila countered.

Case fitted the painting into the frame and nailed it in place. He marked two spots on the wall and pounded in the picture hangers. Then Lila and I hoisted the painting up while Case guided its placement on the hangers. I had to contort my body to squeeze behind the frame to make adjustments.

“To the left!” Lila commanded. “To the left!”

“It’s as far to the left as I can get it,” I called.

“Just a little more,” Lila said.

I pushed my body farther behind the frame and pulled the metal wire with all my might. My back muscles tensed, and my backside stuck out toward the front door just as I heard someone knock.

“Hello,” I heard from behind.

I pulled myself free of the canvas and felt my cheeks flush. “Come in, Abby,” I called. “We’re almost done.”

We maneuvered the metal loops on the back of the painting onto the picture hangers, then as Lila and Case worked to straighten it, Abby stood beside me studying the painting.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “The artist certainly did the statue justice.”

“Thank you!” Lila said with a smile. “That’s why I bought it.” She dusted off her hands and extended one. “Hi, I’m Lila Talbot, Case and Athena’s partner. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Abby Knight Salvare,” Abby said, taking her hand.

“What can we do for you, Abby?” Lila asked.

“I’ve come to ask for your help.”

Lila’s eyes widened. “My help?”

“Our help,” I corrected.

Lila looked at Case. “Do we have a new client?”

“We do.” Case put an arm around Lila’s shoulders. “Come with me,” he said, leading her into his office. “I’ll explain everything.”