Feta Attraction Read Online Free PDF Page B

some said it was jewelry; others said it was a Stradivarius violin. For fun, I’d been through every inch of the place with Cal when she was little, and I know Spiro had done so more than once, and we’d never found anything more than some dust, cobwebs, and a few resident arachnids up in the oversized cupola. That Liza was giving this story any credence at all was confounding.
    â€œThere’s no treasure in that house. It’s ridiculous.”
    â€œMaybe, maybe not, but I’m just telling you that the story is out there.”
    â€œThe story is always out there. Why is it surfacing now? Spiro hasn’t said a word to me about it.”
    â€œI don’t know, love. I’m just telling you what I heard.”
    â€œSo what does this have to do with Spiro being in trouble?”
    She set her glass on the side table and leaned back in her chair. “The word is that Spiro has gotten himself involved with the SODs.”
    â€œThe what?” I scanned my brain but couldn’t come up with an association.
    â€œThe Sons of Demeter. It’s a group of farmers who’ve banded together to try to preserve their agricultural way of life. Mostly it’s just a bunch of old guys watching each other’s backs so they can grow their pot without legal interference. Lately, though, I hear that some of the members have gotten more aggressive and have been making loans at double-digit rates to people who are in danger of losing their farms, and it looks like they’ve branched out into offers to the general public.”
    â€œAre you saying Spiro owes this group money?” This made no sense. As far as I knew, Spiro had plenty of money—he certainly spent plenty of it—and I hadn’t noticed anything unusual in his activity lately. Why would he need to borrow money?
    â€œI’m saying that he was one of the bankers.”
    â€œYou mean, like a loan shark?”
    â€œYes. The Sons are apparently missing a pretty good chunk of money—Spiro’s capital, plus more—and now Spiro is gone.”
    â€œHow do you know all this?” Liza came into town only a couple of times a week, yet had far more information than I, who lived right in the middle of it all.
    â€œPeople have a tendency to tell me things. And no, I don’t generally repeat them, if you’re worried about me revealing any of our conversations.” There was something so reassuring and innately trustworthy about Liza that I could well believe strangers on the street might confide in her.
    â€œWho are these SODs? Anybody I know?”
    â€œAt this point I don’t have any more information than what I’ve told you. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, though, and let you know if I find out anything else.”
    She handed me a teacup containing a warm amber liquid, which she had prepared while we’d been talking. “This is my special, gentle pain relief and detoxification infusion.” I was a bit fuzzy due to the effects of the wine, but it came to me. “You mean, like a hangover preventer?”
    â€œIf you want to call it that,” she said, with just the slightest testy edge to her voice. I sometimes forgot that this was how she made her living, pampering and detoxifying people. I ought to be more sensitive. “I’ve given you the Clover Room, since I remember that’s your favorite.”
    â€œI thought you were booked for the rest of the summer. How’s that room available?”
    â€œIt developed a sudden air-conditioning problem and its rather famous occupant couldn’t take the heat. I’ve moved her and her entourage over to the Waldorf Suite, which I hadn’t planned to use until it was redecorated this fall.” She rose elegantly. “Come, now, time for beddy-bye.”
    I followed her up the fantastically carved dark wood staircase and down a long wallpapered hallway lit with flickering, candle-type electric sconces. The