Kiriake. Annika was on her way to the hillside Temple of Isis, the magical Egyptian goddess of protection and healing and a modern symbol of female power. Some claim worship of Isis ended only when her many temples were renamed in honor of another hallowed female icon, the Virgin Mary. Andreas and Tassos let the port police officer lead the way. They stayed ten yards behind, scanning from side to side for signs of doubling back — or anything else that might be helpful. They found it in discarded tampons. Now they were certain they were following Annika.
The cop did a good job of tracking her bare feet through the dirt — even after they left the road and headed west. Andreas thought she was headed to some houses, but her tracks abruptly veered south just past where she seemed to have fallen. Hopefully the cop was as good at following tracks over ground pounded almost to stone by thousands of tourist feet a day, because that's where they were headed — to the heart of tourist Delos.
'Chief, we have a problem.' The cop stopped about ten feet past the place of her fall.
'What is it?' asked Andreas.
'The sandal prints turn back toward the road.'
The prints had been in step with Annika's since the church. Andreas looked toward the road. 'I wish your buddy would get here with those damn lights.' Frustrated, he looked at Tassos. 'Why'd the killer suddenly stop following her?' He looked at Tassos.
'Doesn't make any sense, does it,' Tassos said, as a statement, not a question.
The cop said, 'Maybe he heard your gunshots and decided to take off?'
'Maybe,' Tassos said somberly. 'Or maybe he knows where she's headed.'
'How could he know?'
Tassos shrugged. 'My guess is he's spent a lot of time here and probably knows most of Delos' secrets. She's trying to hide in his backyard. Who knows what she said or did that helped him figure out what she's likely to do now. One thing's for sure: he has something in mind.' He paused. 'And he's not afraid of us or' — he gestured toward the houses — 'the drunks in there sleeping off the panegyri.' He pointed to the sandal prints. 'I think I'll follow these.'
'Do you think it's a good idea tracking him alone in the dark — especially if he knows this place as well as you think he does?' Andreas obviously didn't like the idea.
Tassos' voice was firm. 'One of us has to follow him, and I know this place pretty well myself. The ancients didn't just build temples here. They were practical businessmen and had ways to escape from invaders and pirates. The official version is that all their secret tunnels and hideaways were destroyed or simply collapsed over time.' He paused. 'I don't believe it. Too many smugglers still use this island. Smugglers don't go where there's no place to hide — and with our guy liking tunnels as much as he does' — Tassos shook his head and repeated himself — 'I think he's up to something.'
'Okay, but what makes you think you can find him?'
In the dark, Tassos sounded like someone speaking in a trance. 'A few years back, antiquities illegally removed from Greece and some other places started turning up in the newer acquisitions of prominent European museums. It wasn't just embarrassing for the museums, it was expensive; they had to return what they'd acquired to the plundered countries without getting their money back. The museums and their insurance companies wanted the source cut off and raised holy hell with Interpol to do it.' He paused. 'Interpol traced the operation to the Cyclades but couldn't find the bad guys. I did — right here on Delos.'
'That's the favor you called in?'
Tassos nodded.
Andreas let out a breath. 'At least wait for the kid with the lights.'
Andreas made out another nod in the dark.
'We'll follow her.' Andreas gestured for the port cop to start moving. 'Hopefully, one of us will find who we're looking for before they find each other.'
Tassos started walking. 'I'll follow these tracks back to the road and wait there for the lights.'
By the time Andreas and the port policeman reached the edge of the ruins by the Lake Area, they were sure Annika knew she was being followed. Her sudden shifts in direction and dramatically shortened stride were what you'd expect from someone ducking and crawling to evade a pursuer.
What Andreas couldn't figure out was why the killer had called off the chase. He probably knew she'd spotted him, but why would he stop when he was so close? Unless he didn't want the chase to end — at least not yet… or not here.
He scanned the ruins. Nothing. He turned to the cop. 'Okay, let's get back to the tracks — and switch to the red lens on your light, it'll make them easier to see on this hard stuff.' Andreas knew that no matter what the bastard had in mind, he wasn't likely to give up on his plan, whatever it was — and Annika didn't seem likely to give up on hers either, whatever it might be.
Perhaps Tassos was right and she did have a plan… one the killer had figured out. That meant any minute she could be dead. Andreas preferred to think the killer had turned away because he was afraid to fight her face- to-face after the rock-throwing back at the church — and her tracks would lead Andreas to a place where he'd find her safe and sound. But Andreas hadn't believed in fairy tales in a very long time. He knew they had to find her fast. Annika had left the lions and moved toward the southeast beyond the dry lake bed that once was the reservoir of Delos. She moved tentatively, conscious of every shadow and alert to every sound. She passed through the crumbled former marketplaces for slaves, goods, and grain and by the monuments, temples, and other ruins of Delos' central area. It was here that the people of Delos erected the Sanctuary of Apollo to honor the son of Zeus who, myth held, they helped by allowing him to be born on Delos in exchange for his father's promise that the island would prosper. Now it was Annika asking for their help.
She was jittery as she came to the Theater Quarter — the ancient city's most opulent shopping and living area. Everything had been too quiet, and there was no sign of him. Something was wrong. She turned east, toward an area of more ruined sanctuaries — these, though, to foreign gods. She was headed for a western foothill of Mount Kynthos when she saw the tightly clustered mass of fig trees and bushes. It was the perfect place for him to hide. But she had no choice; she had to pass through there to reach the ridge she must climb to the Temple of Isis.
She held her breath — and two large rocks — as she crept toward the greenery. Although she heard nothing, she was certain he was in there, listening to the pounding of her heart. As she stepped onto the narrow dirt track that wound around the mass, she realized this was just what he expected her to do, so he could surprise her as she went by. She paused for an instant, then charged from the path into the heart of the bushes and trees screaming in her mind, I'll kill you!
Immediately, she found herself amid a swarming rush of sounds and movements, fur and feathers, jumping and flying. Wild rabbits and birds were as unaccustomed to creatures of her sort on their island at this hour as she was to being here. She dropped to her knees, her body shaking. She let the stones fall from her hands, bowed her head, and thanked God her tormentor wasn't there. The adrenaline rush had passed, followed by exhaustion. But still there was a climb to make. She struggled to her feet and trudged toward the hillside.
The climb made her dizzy, and halfway she gagged as if to vomit — but there was nothing to come up. She crawled the rest of the way in a daze. At the top she collapsed. If he found her now, she was as good as dead.
When she looked up, it was all as she remembered. It was far different from any place she'd passed through below. A headless statue of the goddess Isis stood framed within the four entrance columns and crowning horizontal entablature to a small, 2,200-year-old Doric temple. Though no more than seventeen feet wide, nineteen feet from floor to cornice tip, and thirty-six feet deep, it had once boasted a magnificent entrance, which had been painstakingly resurrected from scattered remnants. Now — as before — the Temple of Isis stood facing west toward the sea astride a foundation of stone five feet higher than the path leading to it.
A beautiful place… the perfect place for her… to wait to ambush him. 'My God,' she said aloud. Her heart skipped a beat. He could have taken the road past the museum and be inside waiting for her. Her eyes darted about in the dark — or he could be hiding behind the temple's walls. Her heart was racing.
Very carefully, Annika climbed to where she could peer between the columns. She wanted no more surprises. There was nothing inside but the statue of Isis and several large pieces of carved marble a few feet from the far left corner. They stood tall and wide enough for him to hide behind. She picked up a rock and held her breath as she carefully edged along inside the right side wall to where she could see behind the marble pieces. Nothing there. She
