074 Greek Odyssey

Chapter One

“
T
HIS IS EXACTLY
what we need,” Bess Marvin declared. She combed the water out of her shiny blond hair and adjusted the straps of her red and black polka-dot bikini. “Fun in the sun on one of the most beautiful beaches in the world!”

“Mykonos
is
gorgeous,” Nancy Drew agreed, rubbing some sunscreen onto her stomach. The hunter green two-piece suit she was wearing had seemed so daring when she had bought it back in River Heights, but it was tame in comparison to the tiny bikinis worn by most of the other women on the beach.

Tall, athletic George Fayne, Bess’s cousin, toweled off her dark curly hair, then flopped down on the sand in her red racing suit. “Didn’t I tell you guys you were going to love Greece?” she asked.

Greece was the third and final main stop on the girls’ summer of traveling in Europe. George had gone ahead early from Rome, joining some Italian teenagers on a trip to Olympia. Nancy, Bess, and Mick Devlin, a cute Australian guy they had met in Geneva, had joined her in Athens the day before. They had arrived on Mykonos late that morning.

Just minutes after checking into the Hotel Athena, the girls had changed into their swimsuits, rushed down the footpath to the beach at the bottom of the hill, and dived into the crystal-clear water. Already Nancy could feel the soothing effect of the golden sun that the Greek islands were so famous for.

With a contented sigh, she took in the panoramic view. Sunlight glittered on the turquoise sea, and sunbathers stretched out on the pastel sand. Off to her left a narrow paved road twisted over rocky terrain until it disappeared into clusters of asymmetrical white houses that made up Chora, the island’s main town.

At the top of the hill behind the beach sat the hotel, a square wedding cake of a building, two stories high, with seaside balconies, long wooden shutters, and arched doorways. It was owned and operated by Kostas Kavalis and his daughter, Zoe.

“It was great of Zoe to invite us here,” Bess commented, lying back on her towel and closing her eyes. “She seems really nice.”

Zoe was a Greek girl whom George had met at Olympia. The two had hit it off, and Zoe had encouraged George to bring her friends to Mykonos for some “Greek hospitality” at her father’s inn. When George told Nancy and Bess about her new friend, the girls had decided to spend the last month of their European vacation on Mykonos.

“I knew you’d like her,” George said, smiling. She pointed to a speedboat that skittered over the water, pulling a water-skier behind it. “I can’t wait to get out there,” she said.

Nancy had to admit that the turquoise waters of the Aegean Sea looked inviting. “I’m sure you’ll get a chance to water-ski,” she said, pushing her reddish gold hair back with a pair of black sunglasses. “We’ve got a whole month to spend here, and I’m going to kick it off by relaxing—with a capital
R
!”

“I hope that means no more cases,” Bess teased. “After the two mysteries you solved in Switzerland and Italy, I think you’ve done your share of detective work in Europe.”

Nancy thought back to the two cases, which she already called
Swiss Secrets
and
Rendezvous in Rome
. “Dealing with blackmailers and jewelry thieves is enough action for one summer,” she said, burying her toes in the warm sand. “But you know I can’t resist when a mystery comes along—”

She was interrupted by a familiar male voice with an Australian accent. “I think I’ve died and gone to bikini heaven!”

Smiling, Nancy glanced over to see Mick Devlin coming down the footpath that led to the beach from the hotel. Just the sight of his blond hair and laughing green eyes sent a pleasant tingle racing through her.

Nancy wasn’t sure how it had happened, but the gorgeous Australian had found his way deeper and deeper into her heart since she first met him in Switzerland. She hadn’t exactly forgotten about Ned Nickerson, her boyfriend back in the States. But she wasn’t at all sure where things stood with him, either.

“Have a seat,” Nancy said, putting the towel beside her.

“Thanks.” Mick peeled off his polo shirt and sprawled in the sand. “Ah . . . this is the life. Hot sun, cool sea, beautiful girl.” He gave Nancy’s hand a squeeze. “Can’t think of any way I’d rather spend a Monday afternoon.”

“Well, don’t get too cozy,” Nancy teased, pulling a book entitled
Let’s See Europe
out of her tote bag. “From reading our guidebook, I think the islands will keep us pretty busy.”

Mick propped himself up on one elbow to read over her shoulder. “I see what you mean. There’s snorkeling, windsurfing, dancing, island-hopping . . .”

“Sounds great!” George put in.

Bess cracked open an eye to look at her friends. “Don’t forget, there are shops and marketplaces to scope out, too. I’m dying to check out those quaint little places I saw near the harbor in Chora when our ferry came in.”

“I thought you’d given up shopping,” Nancy teased, referring to their experience in Rome. In a small shop Bess had inadvertently exchanged her fake Etruscan necklace for a real one, which the girls later learned had been stolen. As a result, their relaxing vacation had turned into a suspenseful search for a jewel thief.

“Oh, that was another time, another country,” Bess said airily.

Nancy laughed. “Maybe we can squeeze in some shopping this afternoon,” she said, shielding her eyes from the sun. “I don’t want to stay out here too long, or I’ll be as crisp as a french fry.”

Just then a pretty dark-haired girl appeared on the footpath. “Who’s ready for lemonade?” Zoe Kavalis asked, holding up a plastic thermos. In her other hand she carried a straw bag with glasses in it.

“Just in the nick of time,” George said, jumping up to help Zoe pour. “That swim definitely made me thirsty.”

Zoe handed Nancy a glass of lemonade, then paused to push a spray of tiny curls out of her eyes. A tall, fine-boned girl with smooth olive skin and brown eyes, Zoe wore her wavy, dark hair coiled at the nape of her neck.

“I thought I would never make it to the beach!” Zoe said, unbuttoning her sundress to reveal a royal blue one-piece swimsuit.

“We saw that busload of British tourists at the hotel,” Nancy said. “Were they checking out—or in?”

“Out, thank goodness!” Zoe said, rolling her eyes in relief. “Papa was happy to have the business, but I was not sorry to see a crowd that size go. Too much work.”

In the distance Nancy heard the buzz of an approaching motorboat. She looked out over the water and saw a good-size yellow boat cut in toward the shoreline. Although she couldn’t read the Greek letters of the boat’s name, she did make out a five-pointed star painted on the bow.

Zoe glanced over, and Nancy saw her frown. “That is Theo Pattakos—he’s a fisherman.”

The boat swerved to within a few yards of the shore before the young man aboard cut the engine. As he dropped the anchor over the side, Nancy saw that Theo was a solid, muscular guy with black hair that was slicked back off his brow. His bare chest was tanned a golden brown that seemed even darker against his fluorescent orange swim trunks.

He called out a greeting and waved exuberantly to all the sunbathers on the beach. Then he jumped into the water and waded ashore.

“Zoe, my friend!” he called, his arms open wide to give her an affectionate hug.

“Stay away! You’re all wet,” Zoe said, dodging him. She didn’t seem very glad to see him, Nancy noticed. With a tight smile Zoe introduced Nancy, Mick, Bess, and George.

Theo’s brown eyes twinkled as he smiled at Nancy and her friends. “Theologos Pattakos, water taxi, tour boat, and fishing boat, at your service. But everyone calls me Theo.”

Nancy smiled. “Sounds as if you’ve got quite a business going, Theo.”

He nodded toward his boat. “The
Sea Star
is my first love.” He casually slipped an arm around Zoe’s shoulders, adding, “Zoe is my second.”

“Not anymore,” Zoe said, pushing him away. Nancy noticed the brittle tension in Zoe’s voice as she went on to explain, “Theo and I
used
to date, but now we’re just friends.”

There was a story here, Nancy thought, but she didn’t want to pry.

“Do you think you can find the time to take George water-skiing?” Zoe asked Theo. “I’ll bet she’s an excellent water-skier.”

George’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I’d love to!”

Theo waved toward the boat and smiled. “Let’s go!”

Nancy thought he seemed relieved to get away from the tense situation with Zoe. A moment later George and Theo were speeding out to sea aboard the
Sea Star
.

“And now it’s time for me to take a dip before I go back to work,” Zoe said, starting for the water.

Bess decided to join Zoe, but Nancy and Mick stretched out on the beach and continued to read Nancy’s guidebook.

Mick pointed to a small islet just east of Mykonos on the map. “Dragonisi is so close. We’ve got to see it,” he said. “It says here that it’s uninhabited and riddled with caves.”

“Might be fun to explore,” Nancy agreed. “Then there’s Naxos, Delos, Tinos . . .” She shook her head as she leafed through the pages. “It’s a good thing we’ve got a month to explore!”

They were checking the boat schedule to Delos, the holy island of the ancient Greeks, when laughter distracted Nancy. She looked up to see Bess and Zoe posing for a roving photographer.

“Wait!” Zoe laughed, rubbing water out of her eyes.

After arranging her slick, wet hair on one shoulder, Bess moved closer to Zoe and flashed the dark-haired photographer a grin. “Okay, shoot,” Bess told him.

As soon as the photographer handed the instant photo to Bess, she ran over to Nancy and Mick. “You guys have to get your picture taken, too,” Bess insisted, waving the developing photo at them. “My treat.” She knelt down on her beach towel and reached into her tote bag for money.

“Such a beautiful couple,” the photographer said, focusing his camera on Nancy and Mick.

Mick slipped his arm around Nancy and mugged for the camera. “Say
feta
,” he teased, using the Greek word for goat cheese.

Once the photographer had snapped their picture, Bess paid and thanked him, carefully saying, “
Evcharistó
.”

“
Parakaló
. . . you’re welcome,” answered the photographer. Nancy guessed that he was in his early twenties. The warm breeze ruffled his curly black hair and crisp white shirt. There was an appreciative look on his angular face as he gazed at Bess. He definitely seemed interested in her.

“Looks like romance is in the air,” Nancy whispered to Mick.

“That’s no surprise,” he answered with a knowing grin. “Bess has managed to charm half of Europe.”

“It’s a pleasure to photograph such beautiful people, even if it
is
my job,” the photographer told Bess, lingering by Nancy’s towel. “I’m Dimitri Zorzis, the
best
photographer on Mykonos. I have a studio in Chora, where I do much better work than this.” He gestured at the photos, which were now becoming clear.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Bess said, studying the picture of Zoe and her. “This is pretty good.”

“Because of the subjects, of course,” Dimitri insisted, flashing Bess a winning smile. “You are models?”

“No,” Bess answered, blushing with pleasure. “Nancy, Mick, and I are just tourists. And Zoe lives here. Her father owns the Hotel Athena.”

Dimitri nodded at Zoe, then gave Bess a friendly wink. “Well, I hope you will let me know if you want to capture more of your vacation on film,” he said. After slinging his camera over his shoulder, he continued on to the next group of sunbathers.

Bess couldn’t take her eyes off Dimitri as he walked along the beach. “Greek guys are so gorgeous,” she insisted. “I could stay on this island forever.”

Nancy raised an eyebrow at Bess. “From the way Dimitri smiled at you, I don’t think he’d mind at all.”

“Well, you’ll have a chance to meet many Greek people tomorrow night at dinner,” Zoe said. “It will be a very special occasion—a celebration of my cousin’s engagement. You are all invited to join the festivities.”

“Terrific!” Bess exclaimed.

Zoe pulled on her sundress, then picked up the plastic thermos and put the glasses in the straw bag. “I have to get back to the inn. If I can get enough done this afternoon, I’ll be free to spend all of tomorrow with you.”

Nodding at the guidebook propped open between Nancy and Mick, Zoe asked, “Have you decided what you want to see first?”

“How about Delos?” Nancy said, turning to a page she had marked in the book. “It says here that there’s a boat leaving for the island at ten-fifteen each morning.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bess put in.

Zoe smiled her approval. “You’ll like Delos. It is full of statues, mosaics, and marble ruins.” She waved at George, who was zipping across the water not far from shore, then picked up the tote bag and started up the hill. “See you at dinner—around nine-thirty,” she called. Then she disappeared up the footpath.