Read Online The Divided Child by Ekaterine Nikas - Free Book Online Page B

possibility."
                “I
know you don’t like the man, but attempted murder?   And of a boy in his sister’s care?   What proof do you have?”
                He
shook his head grimly.   “No
proof.   Just a gut-feeling.   Which is why I have my hands full
making sure Michael remains safe.   I can’t be worrying about you as well.”
                He
squeezed my hand for emphasis, but apparently the gesture was an unconscious
one.   When I made a small sound of
protest, he looked down in surprise, as if he’d forgotten that he held it.   “Did I hurt you?” he murmured, lifting
my hand to his mouth and brushing his lips apologetically across my fingers.
                Mutely,
I shook my head.
                He
turned my hand over and gazed at my palm.   Slowly he began to run his thumb over it in small, caressing circles
that sent ripples of pleasure tingling up my arm.   "Christine,” he said softly, withdrawing his thumb and
pressing a kiss there, “please, promise me you'll forget about all this and go
home."
                "I
can't forget -- even if I wanted to."
                He
drew back at that.   Without another
word he climbed into the taxi and told the driver to go.   I watched the grey Mercedes disappear
down the narrow street.   Then,
pressing my palm to my cheek, I went inside the hotel.
     
    *                                   *                                   *
     
                The
note from Lieutenant Mavros was brief and to the point.   He was most anxious to speak to me
about a certain unfortunate incident, and could I please come by to see him as
soon as possible?   He greatly
appreciated my assistance, and hoped that he was not inconveniencing me.
                This
last made me smile.   I didn't plan
to tell the Lieutenant just how very convenient his invitation was, but I felt
a wave of relief.   The police were
going to investigate after all.    I was off the hook.   For all
my brave words to Geoffrey, I had no idea how to safely go about ferreting out
an attempted murderer, and I was quite happy to leave the job to the police.
                Five
minutes into my interview with Lieutenant Mavros I realized my relief had been
premature.
                I’d
arrived at the police station without mishap and had informed the gruff officer
at the front desk who I was and why I was there.   Mention of Lieutenant Mavros's name had galvanized the man
into action, and I was quickly passed from one policeman to another like a file
urgently needed yesterday.   Soon I
stood outside the Lieutenant's office, waiting as the sergeant who had escorted
me the last leg of the relay went in and announced me.
                The
door to the office opened.   Lieutenant Mavros motioned me in with a bow of his head and a wave of
his hand.   He was younger than I
expected, somewhere in his mid-thirties.   His features were blunt and plain, but his blue eyes were intelligent
and his manner was both polite and intimidating.
                I
sat down in a green leather chair.   The room was sparsely furnished, but didn't share the institutional
ugliness of the other rooms I'd passed through.   The floor was bare, but it was hardwood, not linoleum, and
the antique rosewood desk the Lieutenant returned to was delicately carved and
beautiful.
                "Thank
you for coming, Miss Stewart.   I
apologize for the interruption to your vacation, but I felt it necessary to
speak with you in person about this unfortunate incident.   I will be grateful for any help you can
give to us in our investigation."
                "I'll
be happy to help in any way I can," I assured him.
                He
nodded.   "Thank you.   Now when Spiro Skouras telephoned me
yesterday afternoon