The Real Allie Newman. Janice Carter

The Real Allie Newman - Janice  Carter


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      “No, just his name and two phone numbers. I’m not sure what state the area code represents. I guess it would be Michigan.” Allie suddenly realized she didn’t know very much at all about how Joel Kennedy came to be hired by Spiro Kostakis. She thought of all the questions she ought to have asked before agreeing to travel to Grosse Pointe with the man. Too late now.

      “There’s no point dialing the cell phone number, because I’ll just reach him,” Allie said. “I’ll try the other number.” After several rings, an automated voice informed her that the number was no longer in service. Allie hung up.

      “What is it?” Susan asked.

      “Out of service. Maybe this is an old business card.”

      “Maybe,” Susan murmured. Her forehead was creased with worry. “I don’t know about this.” She thought for a moment. “What about calling Spiro Kostakis—your grandfather?”

      Allie was alarmed at the idea. “I can’t just call out of the blue. What would I say? This is the granddaughter you thought was dead for twenty-seven years?”

      “It wouldn’t be a shock. I’m sure he already knows you’re coming. This Kennedy man would have called.”

      Allie rubbed her temples. Why were things getting so complicated? “Look, Susan, I’ll be all right. I can’t explain it, but I feel in my gut that Joel Kennedy isn’t going to harm me. And I know he’s a good driver because I’ve already been in a car with him.” She forced a laugh, hoping to ease Susan’s anxiety. Rob Newman had always posed a last question to Allie’s dates just as they were walking out the door. Are you a good driver?

      Susan’s smile suggested she was willing to back off even if she wasn’t happy about it. But the ride back into town gave Allie an opportunity to mull over some of their talk. She’d agreed to borrow Susan’s cell phone and had assured her that she could still perform the basic karate moves she’d learned a few years ago. Though if I really wanted to put him off, I’d just have to pucker up for a good kiss and he’d be gone in a flash. Allie snorted.

      “What?”

      “Huh?”

      “Is something funny?” Joel took his eyes off the road for a moment, holding Allie’s gaze long enough for her to have second thoughts about his driving abilities.

      “No no. Just thinking of something silly. Uh, something I read in one of my exam papers.”

      Something funny on a math exam? His eyes left the windshield again, back to her. He grinned. “What was it?”

      Allie waved a hand. “Nothing really. Um, funny only to…”

      “A mathematician?”

      “Yeah,” she mumbled, and turned her head to look out the passenger-side window.

      Fortunately he didn’t pursue the matter, but popped a CD into the player, instead. Allie leaned her head back, closed her eyes again and let the mellow cadences of a female jazz singer make the time pass just a little more quickly.

      The deceleration of the car jolted her awake. Her eyes blinked open and for an instant she forgot where she was. Her neck swiveled along the edge of the headrest, first to the window, then to her left. Joel was peering through the windshield looking for a parking space in a service center, but cast a quick glance her way and smiled.

      “Have a good sleep?”

      “Mmm. Where are we?”

      “About halfway there. I need to gas up the car and thought we’d get some lunch. I’m not sure what kind of eating places are ahead of us, but this was familiar.”

      Allie stared at the sign of a fast-food chain and sighed. There goes half a day’s training, she thought.

      However, the menu board inside indicated salads and vegetarian options, so she was able to order something that wouldn’t cause too much damage.

      “Training lunch?” Joel asked, digging into his man-size cheeseburger and fries.

      “Sort of, but I’m not into fast food, anyway.”

      “Good for you. As for me, I eat whatever’s handy when I’m hungry.”

      “Well, it doesn’t seem to have done you any harm.”

      He swallowed a mouthful of Coke and said, “I noticed you had more than an edge on me the other day.”

      She frowned.

      “The park?” he said. “The photograph?”

      “Ohh. You weren’t that far behind me.”

      His turn to smile. “You’re being kind. By the way, you bring the photo?”

      Allie toyed with her salad. “I forgot it.”

      “Seriously?”

      She nodded.

      He lowered the remains of his burger and stared at her for an uncomfortable moment. Then he said, “Shouldn’t make a difference.”

      “Why the concern, then?”

      “I just thought Spiro would be interested in seeing it. Because he owns the identical one I showed you,” he added.

      Not quite identical, she mused, considering my mother was removed from my copy. Which was why Allie had purposely left it behind, even though he’d suggested bringing it. She didn’t want Spiro Kostakis to see what her father had done.

      “Speaking of my grandfather, you said you’d tell me more about him.”

      “I only know what I managed to pick up from some of my contacts in the business.”

      “The business?”

      “Uh, the investigation business.”

      “Oh. Do you always investigate your clients?”

      “I like to know something about them. You know, such as, am I going to get paid? Is the check going to bounce? That sort of thing.”

      “Does it happen often?”

      “Often enough. Anyway, Spiro and his older brother, Niko, came to America from Greece in 1947, just after the war. They did the usual new immigrant thing at first, taking whatever jobs they could get. They saved some money and sent for their Greek fiancées to join them in Detroit. Eventually they got into the restaurant business, were very successful and opened another location. Niko took over the food part of the Kostakis empire after Spiro got into importing and exporting. By then, they’d both married and had children. Sometime in the late fifties, Spiro moved into his mansion in Grosse Pointe Farms.”

      “Grosse Pointe Farms?”

      “Don’t be fooled by the word farms. It’s a very affluent area of Grosse Pointe. Anyway, a few years after that, Niko had a fatal heart attack, so his widow and son, Tony, moved in with Spiro and his wife.”

      “What about Niko’s share of the business?”

      “Good question. For some unknown reason, Spiro was Niko’s beneficiary, with allowances going to his spouse and children.”

      “That’s unusual. It must have caused some family friction.”

      He nodded. “The brothers probably did that as some kind of insurance when they got here. No other family and only each other to rely on.”

      “You’d think Niko would have changed his will after his son was born.”

      “I guess he never got around to it. Anyway, when Tony was in his late twenties, he married and had two boys—your cousins—George and Christo. By then, he was working his way up in the business.”

      “What happened to him?”

      “Rumor has it he and Spiro had a major falling-out one night over money. Tony disappeared and was never seen


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