Poppy
“Okay,” she says. But her nerves remain razor tight, and her brain is still racing as Lillith’s Death List burns in her mind.
She’s still struggling to process it—that Lillith sought her out in Brighton, befriended her, offered her a job, flew her to Scotland, ensconced her in the castle. Dealt with Angus. And now has brought her to Greece for the Black Orchid Plan? Why? It makes no sense.
And there’s Arrabella—also on the trip. Supposedly a surprise to Lillith. But is it? Her name is also on the Death List under the Black Orchid Plan.
Get rid of Arra.
They step into the shaded courtyard. Moss creeps between the flagstones, and a bouzouki melody drifts from speakers hidden among the vines.
A waiter greets them and guides them to a table near a spouting mask. Lillith drops heavily into a chair. Poppy hesitates. Part of her wants to run. Back to the ship. Pack a bag and vanish. That’s when she sees him again.
The Tan Man.
Like a cold shadow he’s materialized across the alley. He starts perusing a rack of Greek postcards outside a tiny shop. Her throat tightens. She’s trapped.
When she boarded the plane in Edinburgh, she thought she was in control. This cruise would be on her terms. Her plan for retirement. She would work the ailing widow.
But all along, it’s been Lillith’s plan?
Poppy sits gingerly on the edge of the wooden chair, keeping the Tan Man in sight. The waiter offers menus.
“I’ll have whatever you have,” Poppy says, pushing her menu away, her gaze flicking back to the stalker across the cobbles.
“Are you feeling okay?” Lillith asks, concern in her eye.
Poppy just nods. She’s preoccupied with planning her escape.
Earlier, when Lillith returned to her suite, Poppy managed to hurriedly stuff the Death List back into the safe.
She’d unlocked the connecting door between the suites and entered her own.
She barely managed to shut and relock the door before she heard Lillith entering on the other side.
Poppy had only started plotting her flight strategy when Lillith came around via the corridor and knocked on Poppy’s door.
Poppy opened it, heart still racing, face burning blotchy red—she could feel it.
Lillith apologized for disappearing early in the morning and explained she needed a crack-of-dawn massage for a sore hip that had kept her up during the night.
Poppy played dumb, and ended up trapped into boarding the bus with Lillith for the walking tour.
The Tan Man boarded right behind her. He sat near the rear of the bus.
Poppy felt his eyes burning into the back of her head the whole way to Chania.
She knows that he knows she’s a murderer, and she was too scared to bolt.
He’d chase her down—she’s certain of it. She wouldn’t get far.
Her best strategy: Continue to play dumb. Pretend nothing’s wrong. Until she can figure out what’s going on.
The waiter brings iced water, and bread with olive oil and balsamic.
She sits in silence as he pours their water. Her head buzzes.
If I pack my bags, grab my passport, I could slip off the ship before it leaves Crete tonight. Get a flight to Athens. Or London—anywhere. Even Portugal, Spain, France. Doesn’t matter. I can figure things out from there.
“Are you sure you’re all right, Poppy? You look rather peaked.”
“I-I’m fine,” she mutters, her gaze darting back to the Tan Man.
“No, really, you look nervous. You’re sweating. Shaking.”
“It’s nothing—just the heat.”
“Are you hydrating properly?”
“Really, I’m fine.”
“Is this to do with Hendrick?” Lillith presses.
Shock ripples through Poppy.
“What? Why do you ask that?”
“Your mood appeared to shift last night, after I joined him at his table.”
Before she can answer, food arrives. She smells garlic and fragrant rosemary, and it looks beautiful, but she’s not hungry.
Lillith circles back immediately. “So is it Hendrick?” She seems deeply, oddly curious.
“I-I’m just concerned, you know, about you. I wasn’t sure if you knew him from before. Or—”
“Or if he was hitting on me?” Lillith smiles softly.
Poppy swallows. “There are con men who target women who . . .” Her voice trails.
“Who target old, wealthy widows? Seniors who appear frail, vulnerable?”
She clears her throat. “Yes. Cruises in particular attract predators. Easy marks on board.”
Lillith’s smile fades. She nods, her fingers brushing the serpent at her throat.
Poppy says, “I wondered if Hendrick sent those Bangkok Slings. Or the gift in your suite. It’s not my business, of course—if you’ve got a friend, someone you don’t want made public because Angus’s death is still recent. I—” She freezes.
The Tan Man is crossing the cobbles. He’s coming straight toward to their grove. She can’t think. Her face and neck burn. She reaches for her water with trembling hands.
Lillith notices instantly. She turns, follows Poppy’s gaze. The Tan Man takes a seat at a table near the courtyard entrance. Panic claws Poppy’s chest.
Lillith studies him awhile, as though weighing something. She turns back.
“It’s okay,” she says quietly. “He’s with me.”