Merrick's Eleventh Hour. Wendy Rosnau

on where Cyrus is.”

      Minutes of silence dragged by. Finally, Sully said, “There could be a reasonable explanation for why she’s with Cyrus.”

      “Reasonable?” Merrick expelled a cold laugh. “What would that be, Sully?”

      “She could be a victim. One more in a long list.”

      “A happy victim? A victim who gives her abductor a son? No. She went with him willingly, and there’s only one reason why she’d do that.”

      “You think she was having an affair with Krizova in Washington?”

      “After he survived Prague, he resurfaced with a new face. He wanted revenge on me because I was the one who had left him for dead. What better way than to take my wife. Yes, I think he set his sights on Johanna. We used to talk about our wives. He knew how I felt about her.”

      “You think he approached her and they started seeing each other.”

      “Johanna was acting secretive about something for weeks before she died. Make that disappeared. Now I know why.” Merrick pulled the envelope from his pocket and shook out the ring and the small white card. “Cyrus left these with Sarah Finny to give to me. Sarah is—”

      “The woman from the flower shop.”

      “Cyrus put roses on Johanna’s grave before he left Washington, along with this note.” He handed it to Sully.

      “Game on. Your move.” Sully looked up. “He really is a sick bastard.”

      “That note was meant to bring me back to Greece so I would lead him to Melita. He never expected me to learn the truth about Johanna. But now I know something he doesn’t.”

      “So, now what? Where do we go from here?”

      “There’s no we. You’re staying here with Melita. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

      “Where are you going?”

      “To clear my head. I’ll be in touch.”

      Merrick left the cove with no destination in mind. Every beautiful memory of Johanna was now tainted by lies. As soon as he faced that ugly truth, he decided, he’d be thinking more clearly.

      Chapter 3

      Cyrus had been home two days when he sailed with Erik on a short fishing trip. Callia was on her way downstairs when she met Zeta on her way up, her dark eyes red from crying.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “I’ve gotten some bad news.”

      Cyrus and Erik hadn’t been gone two hours. Had something happened to them on the Starina?

      “What news?”

      Zeta glanced over her shoulder as Kipler walked past. “It’s personal. Can I speak to you privately?”

      “Of course. Come with me.” Callia led the way back upstairs. Inside her bedroom with the door closed, she said, “What’s happened?”

      “The hospital in Naxos called. My daughter’s been in an accident. The doctor says it’s serious, and I need to come right away.”

      “I’m sorry.” Callia hugged Zeta. “I’ll tell Kipler and—”

      Zeta pulled away. “No. He won’t let me go. I’m never to leave you.”

      “This is an emergency.”

      Zeta shook her head. “I need to go without anyone knowing I’ve left.”

      “That’s impossible. Kipler has his orders. We’ll need his approval.”

      “He’ll say no.”

      Callia thought a moment. “I’ll tell him we’re going into Kerkyra to do some shopping. One of the guards can drive us. You can slip away once we’re in town and fly to Athens, then to Naxos. Once you’re gone, there won’t be much he can do about.”

      “It might work.”

      “Go get ready.”

      Callia changed clothes, then went to the small safe in the study where Cyrus left money for her to use as she wished. She was standing at the window when a knock came on the door. “Come in,” she said.

      “You wanted to see me Kiria Krizova?”

      “I’m going into town with Zeta, Kipler. Could you have one of the guards drive us?”

      “How soon do you want to leave?”

      “Right away.”

      Kipler nodded, and within the hour Callia and Zeta arrived in Kerkyra. Callia told Endre, the seasoned guard that often drove her to town, that she wanted to go to the market square. As he waited near the car, she and Zeta strolled the market. It was busy and that was a good thing. They quickly got lost in the crowd, and slipped into a cab. Halfway to the airport, Callia noticed that Zeta’s anxiety had escalated.

      “I don’t think I can do this alone, Callia. I didn’t mention it before, but I’m afraid to fly.”

      “You’ll do fine. Don’t worry.”

      At the airport Zeta had a panic attack. She was shaking so badly Callia was afraid she would never be able to board the plane. “You have to do this, Zeta. For Sonya.”

      “Come with me?”

      “You know I can’t do that.”

      Zeta collapsed in a chair. “I’m sorry. I know you can’t, but I don’t think I can do this alone.”

      Callia glanced at her watch. The plane would leave the runway in a matter of minutes. She hurried to the counter. “I’d like to purchase another ticket to Athens, then one to Naxos, please.” When she returned to Zeta, she said, “Come on. I’ll take you to Naxos, then fly back once I get you to the hospital. Kipler is going to be furious, but I’ll call him once I’m on my way back from Naxos.”

      “You will? You’ll come with me?” Tears streaming down her cheeks, Zeta jumped up and threw her arms around Callia and hugged her. “Efkharisto.”

      “You don’t need to thank me. Not after all the years you’ve been so good to me. Come on.”

      Zeta gripped Callia’s hand, and together they left Kerkyra. They changed planes in Athens at 1:00 p.m. and thirty minutes later they landed in Hora, the largest coastal city in Naxos.

      “There’s a taxi.” Zeta pointed.

      Callia led the way. The cabdriver opened the back door for them, and once they were inside and he was behind the wheel, Johanna said, “The hospital, please.”

      “No aposkeves?” the driver asked.

      “No luggage.”

      He pulled away from the curb, and the car quickly slipped through the airport congestion. Callia said, “I wish I had time to see Sonya, but my plane leaves in a half hour to return to Corfu.” She squeezed Zeta’s hand. “You have my phone number and the extra money I gave you?”

      “Ne.”

      “Call me later and tell me how Sonya is. Tell her I’m praying for her recovery.”

      Zeta hugged Callia as the car pulled to a stop in front of the hospital. She got out of the cab, stood in the open door. “I’m sorry, Callia.”

      “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Call me in a few hours. I’ll be home by then.”

      Zeta nodded, then with tears streaming down her cheeks, she closed the door and walked away.

      “Back to the aerothromio,” Callia told the driver.

      “The airport,” he repeated. “Amésos. Right away. No problem.”

      On