know,” Nancy said, hugging a cushion to her chest. “But I thought of it when I saw those photos in the cave.”
As she spoke, Nancy looked down at the cushion in her arms. Something about it struck a familiar chord in her mind. The square cushion was covered with smooth orange canvas cloth. She turned it over and found that a star and a few Greek letters had been marked on the cushion with a black felt-tip pen. The Greek word ended with the letters aooa .
Nancy’s eyes widened in surprise. The same cushions had been sitting near the sleeping bags in the cave with the explosives!
Chapter Nine
“ W HAT’S WRONG ?” Mick asked.
Nancy glanced ahead to make sure that Theo couldn’t hear them. Then she showed Mick the marking on the cushion. “I saw the same cushions in that cave.”
“Are you sure?” Mick questioned. “We don’t know the Greek alphabet. Maybe some of the letters just look the same.”
“I’m positive,” she said emphatically. “It was a star, followed, by these symbols.” A quick search of the other cushions on the aft deck revealed that they were all marked the same way.
Mick’s eyes darkened, and he said, “Now that I think of it, what was Theo doing on that deserted part of Dragonisi—after he refused to take us there? He could have been on his way to see the people in the cave!”
Nancy tensed. “And remember that woman we saw him talking to, next to the snorkelers? She had red hair . . .”
“Just like the woman in the cave,” Mick finished. “I think it’s time Theo gave us some solid answers,” he added, suddenly on his feet.
Nancy grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “If he is involved with those people, we can’t afford to confront him while we’re out on the open sea.”
“Good point.” Mick took her hand and settled in for the ride.
Nearly an hour later, as they arrived in Mykonos’s harbor, Nancy held up one of the cushions and said to Theo, “These are nice. But what do those letters say?”
“Those are the markings of the Sea Star ,” Theo replied. He threw a line around a wooden stanchion in the marina, then turned to Nancy and traced the handwritten symbols on the cushion. “The name is also marked on the hull of my boat.”
“Do any of the other boats have the same cushions?” Nancy asked him.
“Oh, sure. But not with these markings—at least, they shouldn’t,” Theo said sternly. “I noticed that some of my cushions disappeared a few days ago.” He lowered his voice. “But I think some of the older fishermen here at the marina are playing a joke on me.”
Mick and Nancy exchanged a look that said they both doubted the story. Mick started to say something, but Nancy shook her head, stopping him.
It wouldn’t be wise to press Theo. There were too many questions—about the cushions, about the redheaded woman, about Theo’s presence at Dragonisi, and about the deadly explosives. She needed to investigate on her own before she let Theo know how much she suspected.
The hot sun and excitement had taken its toll on Nancy’s energy, but she wanted to report the incident on Dragonisi right away. Fortunately, there was a police station located on Mykonos’s harbor between a café and a souvenir shop. Inside, Nancy and Mick waited on a bench in a dusty gray room while the desk officer located someone who spoke English.
Finally Officer Rossolatos appeared, with a younger police officer who had short black hair. Nancy and Mick reported the incident on Dragonisi without too much trouble. The only problem was, every time they said something, Officer Rossolatos translated it, and a barrage of conversation—all in Greek—followed. Nancy was dying to know what the men were saying.
She kept hearing one word crop up. It sounded like “ diafevgo .” But when she asked what they were discussing, Officer Rossolatos brushed her questions aside.
“We will send a boat to Dragonisi to look for these people, but please, stay away from that