Page 10 of Fastest Kill

"Not directly." Tore's voice was dry. "Frederica doesn't do things directly when she can do them sideways. There's a way she doesn't mention people when she's thinking about them. They kind of come up. You're one of those."

"You sure it's not because she wants to kill me?" Dario asked, turning this new information over with the same careful attention he gave to things that might be a gift or a grenade. Usually, he couldn't tell until it went off.

Tore chuckled. "If she wanted to kill you, you would be dead."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs saved him from needing to respond. Frederica appeared in the doorway a moment later, freshly showered and with her hair pulled back into a still-wet ponytail.

"Sit," Despina said from the stove, without turning around. "Eat before you start any arguments."

Frederica sat. Despina moved to the table with a heavy pan and served eggs, scrambled with tomato and chives, then refilled Tore's coffee, put a glass of water in front of Frederica without being asked, and set a full mug of coffee in front of Dario. He thanked her, and she gave him a squinting look like she was still unsure whether to shoot him.

"Your mother cooked for you?" she asked.

"God no," Dario said with a huff of laughter. "She had staff to do that."

Despina made a sound of disapproval. She sat at the head of the table, picked up her fork, and said, "You had better eat extra then."

The interrogation started three minutes in, which was roughly when Despina decided everyone had eaten enough to withstand it.

"So," she said, "tell me about the jail, chrysi mou."

Dario's Greek wasn't fluent, but he was okay, and he certainly knew enough endearments to get just about anyone out of their pants.

Despina had just called the scowling assassin on the other side of the table my golden one. He tried not to smirk because it would probably start a fight, and he was enjoying watching Frederica squirm under her mother's gaze.

Frederica chewed through her mouthful of food. "I was going to explain⁠—"

"You were going to lie," Despina corrected. She pointed the fork at Dario. "You. How did she end up in a jail cell in Crete?"

"From what I understand, a man grabbed her in a bar, and she objected with a boot," Dario replied immediately. God only knew what she could do with that fork.

Despina considered this, then gave a small, satisfied nod that told him exactly who Frederica had learned her way of dealing with men from. "Good. The next question."

"Mama," Frederica groaned. "Let me eat first."

"Why were you in Crete and not Rhodes? Were you really going to come so close and not see us?"

Frederica looked at her eggs. "I was coming to visit. I just wanted to have a night off first."

"On a different island."

"Crete is nice."

"You hate Crete. You've told me twice that the bars are full of tourists and the men are too short." Despina looked at Dario because she was good at extracting information from people who were very strongly motivated not to give it. "Why was she really on Crete?"

Dario held up both hands. "Maybe she was in the mood for a short king? I only know that I was in Istanbul when the police called me. The rest is between her and Crete."

Across the table, Frederica looked at him with something that was almost gratitude. It was an expression he had never seen on her face.

Despina made a disapproving sound and picked up her coffee. The interrogation, apparently, was complete.

Tore caught Dario's eye across the table and gave a very small, private nod. He had survived thirty years of marriage to the most perceptive person in any room and clearly had developed a system.

Dario nodded back and thought he might like Tore Alesci.

It was while Despina was clearing the plates and refusing to let Dario help her that Tore leaned forward.

"Let me guess, you came to Rhodes for my files," he declared.