Where Shadows Linger (Intertwined Souls Series Book 2)

by Mary D. Brooks

  “Hans Muller is your stepfather?”

  Eva nodded. “I found out the night my mother died,” she added quietly.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. When did that happen?”

  “The day you told me you were getting married.” The quiet tone turned iron-hard.

  “Oh,” Greta said. She realized that she would have to work hard to earn back Eva’s trust. The woman before her was not a naïve teenager anymore; that was quite evident. “So you were in Greece during the war?”

  “Yes. Larissa.”

  “Never heard of it,” Greta replied. She had traveled to Greece before the war. She was an amateur archaeologist and, of course, had had to visit Athens and the Acropolis. “Was it a little backwater village?”

  Zoe kept her mouth shut, but her eyes gleamed with suppressed annoyance.

  “Actually it was quite an important village. It’s situated between Athens and Thessaloniki, so it was a vital supply line during the war. That’s where I found out my father was the local priest,” Eva said with studied casualness.

  “This is getting stranger by the moment. So how did you two get together?”

  “I wanted to kill her,” Zoe said with a grin. Greta gave her a horrified look. “Didn’t work out,” Zoe continued.

  “Why? I mean I can see it didn’t, but what happened?” Despite her dislike of Zoe, Greta found herself genuinely interested.

  “I thought she was a cold-blooded Nazi, and I was a member of the Greek Resistance,” Zoe explained, her expression and tone betraying nothing except the utmost sincerity.

  Unconsciously, Greta’s fingers strayed to the swastika pin she wore. “Oh.”

  “I found out she wasn’t a cold-blooded Nazi, which was really good, since I fell for her,” Zoe replied and stared right at Greta. “So where were you during the war?”

  Greta gave Zoe a predatory smile. “I was a cold-blooded Nazi,” she said. “At least you had the good sense to get involved with a Christian,” she added to Eva, noticing the gold crucifix around Zoe’s neck.

  The smile pasted on Zoe’s face remained intact. “Well, it’s a good thing you weren’t in Larissa instead of Eva.”

  “You would have killed me?” Greta asked, not believing that Zoe would have been able to do anything of the sort.

  “In a heartbeat,” Zoe replied, just as seriously as before.

  “I think we are all getting a little too serious,” Eva interjected, putting her arm around Zoe’s waist. “Why don’t we have dinner?”

  They left the lounge and went to the dining table. Zoe went into the kitchen and brought out the meal, while Eva uncorked a bottle of wine and poured Greta a glass. Greta watched them over the rim of her wine glass. The evening had not started as she had hoped. Eva was a more confident woman than she remembered, and then there was Zoe to contend with. She needed a new plan to deal with Eva’s very possessive lover, and with the changed Eva herself.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Greta sipped her wine and continued to study Eva and Zoe. They were seated side by side. Occasionally Zoe would push her vegetables to the side and Eva would push them back. She found this behavior very odd. “I take it you don’t like vegetables?” she asked Zoe with a hint of a smirk.

  “No, not much,” Zoe said. She looked sideways at Eva, who was grinning.

  Greta turned to Eva. “Tell me, Eva, whatever happened to your stepfather?”

  “He was arrested for war crimes,” Eva replied evenly, and wiped her mouth with her napkin.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because he killed innocent people,” Zoe said.

  Greta snorted. “Were they really innocent? No one gets killed because they are innocent.”

  “Is that right?” Zoe asked, cocking her head to one side.

  “Of course. People choose which side to support. Only babies are innocent. They don’t have the ability to decide. You wanted to kill Germans, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Of course you did. That’s why Resistance groups sprang up like mushrooms. No one is an innocent during war. Do you consider Churchill a war hero?” Greta asked, illustrating her point.

  “Not in the true sense of the word. He rallied his people, and that makes him a hero to them,” Zoe replied, and sipped her tea.

  “I think Churchill is a war criminal rather than a hero. He killed those innocents you referred to in Dresden. I was there, and I saw with my own eyes the death and destruction. Where is he now? He is venerated and worshipped by the masses because of his heroic deeds. The victor writes the history of the war.”

  “It’s amazing how you are so blind,” Zoe said in an astonished tone. “Hitler bombed London, also killing non-combatants, women, and children. Is he a hero to you?”

  “You don’t understand. Hitler was the best thing to happen to Germany. He had the solution to Germany’s problems.”

  “The solution was to start a war that killed millions,” Zoe muttered.

  “Hitler didn’t kill millions. That’s nonsense,” Greta scoffed. “He gave Germany its pride back, gave men their jobs back. He was what Germany needed.”

  “What about the millions of Jews who died?” Eva asked, taking Greta by surprise. She was certainly not expecting Eva to care anything about Jews.

  “Millions? Hardly. Concentration camps were set up so the undesirables could work for the Fatherland. They were treated humanely,” Greta said. She wondered if Eva really believed the lying propaganda published by the Jews and their allies.

  “Do you honestly believe that no Jews died in the concentration camps? No Poles or communists, no retarded people...none?”

  “Oh, don’t be silly, of course they died. The old and sick die every day, and it happened in the camps too.”

  “So millions of old and sick people died a natural death in those camps?” Eva asked.

  “Millions? Where did you get that figure from?”

  “It’s the truth. It’s a little hard for millions to just disappear.”

  “Oh, please.” Greta flapped a dismissive hand. “Eva, you of all people should be aware of your history. As I said, the victor writes the history books. The facts have little to do with what is written, and in years to come, the truth of what happened in those camps will come to light.”

  “It already has. The Nazis murdered millions of people, innocent people, because of their race or just because they wanted to.” Zoe was now angry. “Haven’t you been following the Nuremberg Trials? Don’t you read the newspapers? The list of former guards and commandants who’ve been executed for war crimes is as long as your arm.”

  Greta snorted and shook her head. “You are so ill-informed. There is no proof that millions of Jews died. The trials are lies and the victors set the agenda. Please, this is ridiculous. How can any intelligent person swallow such obvious falsities?”

  All the talk about millions dying made Greta wonder if both of these women knew the reality of what was going on. They were being fed lies. She would have to do something about that, if only to free Eva from the messy situation she had put herself into.

  ***

  Eva put a calming hand on Zoe’s shoulder. “Why don’t we get some dessert?” she whispered. Zoe nodded and then got up and went into the kitchen. Eva watched her go and turned back to Greta, who had an ugly smirk on her face.

  “I don’t think spouting Nazi propaganda at Zoe is going to make this dinner enjoyable for either of us,” Eva said, angry with the woman who was clearly amused by Zoe’s upset. “Zoe’s entire family was killed during the war. I’m not sure what you are trying to do, but stop it. Excuse me for a moment.” She walked into the kitchen.

  Zoe stood near the sink with her head bowed. A cheesecake sat forgotten on the counter. Eva put her arms around her and kissed the top of her head, knowing Zoe was frustrated at Greta’s resolute delusions.

  “Are you okay?” Eva asked.

  Zoe shook her head. “She can’t believe those lies, can she?�
� She looked up, tears tracking down her face. Eva brushed them away and kissed her. “I’m sorry, Evy, I tried.”

  “I know you did, love. Thank you for making the effort.”

  “Go back outside. It’s rude to keep our guest waiting,” Zoe said, wiping away her remaining tears with the heel of her hand.

  Eva held her tighter. “Not until I know you’re okay.”

  “I’m okay. Can we talk about this later?”

  Eva nodded and gave Zoe another quick kiss before taking the cheesecake out with her. She placed it on the table and gave Greta a warning look while Zoe brought out the plates.

  “I’m sorry I upset you, Zoe,” Greta said as Zoe sat down. She sounded sincere. “I think I should have listened to what my father said many years ago. He told me never to discuss politics or religion at the dinner table.”

  “Good advice,” Zoe mumbled, still appearing somewhat subdued.

  “I see some beautiful prints,” Greta said, motioning to the framed photographs sitting on the mantelpiece. “Are they yours?” she asked Eva, making a clear effort to steer the conversation in another direction.

  “Yes, it’s a relaxing hobby,” Eva said, grinning at Zoe. “But Zoe is a very talented artist.”

  “You did that piece?” Greta asked, pointing at the portrait of Eva reading a book.

  “Yes. Eva sat patiently for me.”

  “That’s a very nice portrait.”

  “Thank you,” Zoe said quietly. “Drawing relaxes me.”

  “Hmm, much like music. I do enjoy a good opera,” Greta said, smiling pleasantly. “Oh, Eva, do you remember when we went and saw Romeo and Juliet?”

  “Remember it? I think I won’t ever forget it!” Eva laughed. She turned to Zoe, who was looking at her, puzzled. “It was so bad half the audience left and the other half stayed to see how bad it would get!” Eva explained.

  “Which half were you in?” Zoe asked.

  “We stayed,” Eva said. “Romeo couldn’t remember his lines, Juliet fell off her balcony, and it got worse!”

  Greta continued laughing. Involuntary tears threatened to destroy her carefully made-up face, and she cautiously wiped them away with the point of her napkin. “We had to stay. We spent good money for it.”

  “Oh, God, don’t remind me,” Eva said.

  “Do you like opera, Zoe?” Greta asked once the hilarity had died down. From her expression and the tone of her voice, it was obvious that she was being condescending again.

  “I love opera,” Zoe said with a smile. “My favorite is L’Africaine.”

  “You love opera?” Greta sounded incredulous.

  Zoe grinned. “One of the many things I’ve come to love through Eva.”

  “I didn’t think you would be an opera fan. I thought you would be more interested in be-bop and jazz,” Greta said.

  “I didn’t think I would be an opera fan either, but life has a way of just giving you what you least expect,” Zoe quipped. “Who would have thought I would have fallen in love with the most beautiful woman on the planet? You can’t buck Fate, so I married her.”

  Eva gave her a smirk, but did not want to interrupt her. She knew that when Zoe got passionate about a topic, she put everything into it. She was not going to remind Zoe that it was Eva who had done the proposing.

  “Eva introduced me to opera and I loved it,” Zoe concluded.

  Eva smiled. “I love jazz.”

  “You? You hated jazz!” Greta said.

  “I didn’t hear the right people performing it,” Eva replied. She squeezed Zoe’s hand under the table. “Zoe introduced me to it and, of course, to Greek music.”

  “That’s amazing. You used to think jazz was for peasants, and Greek music? You had no regard for it. Now I am amazed.”

  “My tastes have changed,” Eva said, glancing at Zoe.

  Greta looked at her watch and sighed. “I would love to continue chatting with you, but John, my husband, is waiting for me. Thank you for the wonderful dinner. Perhaps we can do this again some time.”

  They walked to the door. Zoe handed Greta her coat.

  “I think maybe next time we should avoid politics at dinner,” Greta suggested. She ruffled Zoe’s hair as though she was a young child. Zoe brushed her hair back into place and her annoyed scowl at being treated in such a patronizing manner became a weak smile when Eva bent a warning glance at her.

  “It was good seeing you again, Eva.” Greta kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  They said their goodbyes and Eva closed the door.

  “Come here,” she said. Zoe fell into her embrace. “I love you and thank you,” Eva whispered to her.

  Chapter Fifty

  Zoe exhaled. She was sitting on the sofa with Eva. The verbal altercation with Greta had worn her out. She had prepared herself for an onslaught, but Greta was just the most frustrating person she had ever met.

  “I don’t like her,” she mumbled. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her, and now I think she’s the devil’s own spawn.”

  “I know, love.”

  “Was she always like this?”

  Eva sighed. “Yes. She was very determined when she wanted something.”

  “Or someone?”

  “Or someone.” Eva took Zoe’s hand and held it. “Back then, she wasn’t so aggravating. I think the war has changed us all.”

  “How did you change?”

  “Oh, gosh.” Eva sighed. “I was so naïve. I trusted what people told me nearly all the time. I had dreams of traveling and being a photographer.” She smiled sadly. “I believed Greta when she told me that we would travel the world together. Do you remember when you asked me about my dreams for after the war?”

  “Yes,” Zoe replied. They had been sitting in Eva’s office in Larissa. Zoe, believing Eva was a Nazi, was surprised to find Eva was working for the Resistance. She had wondered then what motivated Eva. “I remember.”

  “I had no dreams. I doubted very much whether I was going to see the end of the war. If I did survive the war, who would want me?” Eva replied. She sounded devoid of any self-pity. It was clear that she voiced what she had truly believed. “And other stuff.”

  “Other stuff?”

  Eva sighed again. “I sometimes wonder what kind of mother I would have made. Muller wanted me to marry and have perfect Aryan babies.” She stopped speaking, and Zoe understood she was unwilling to talk about what might have been had they not met and fallen in love with one another.

  Zoe looked up and met Eva’s eyes, wishing she could take away the shadows there. “You deserve better.” She caressed Eva’s cheek.

  Eva smiled, leaned into Zoe, and kissed her. “I didn’t know what I was going to do. Then our friendship happened and I wasn’t sure how we would survive, but I had someone to walk with me.”

  “I’ve always said I have good timing,” Zoe said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You have excellent timing. Do you know when I noticed you?”

  “When I called you a cripple?”

  “Yes. Henry told you, didn’t he? How dare someone call me a cripple?”

  “Isn’t it funny? You wanted the resistance to kill you, but you wanted to prove me wrong.”

  “I didn’t have a death wish.”

  “No? So walking out in the front of the house where everyone could see you and the Resistance could have a good clean shot at you, wasn’t a death wish?”

  Eva pursed her lips and nodded. “It was a little bit of a death wish.”

  “It’s a lot like being a little bit pregnant.”

  Eva shook her head and laughed lightly. “Let’s not forget you did try and kill me with that stone.”

  “The pebble? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Zoe asked solicitously, patting Eva on the arm.

  “Well, you did a bit,” Eva replied with a mock pout.

  Zoe grinned and kissed the arm she was patting. “You didn’t let Henry and the other oaf come after me. I’ve always wondered about that.”<
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  “No. Want to know why?”

  “You felt sorry for the peasant?” Zoe asked, snuggling closer.

  “Don’t be silly,” Eva gently scolded. “You are not a peasant. I don’t want you talking that way.”

  “Well, I am,” Zoe persisted.

  “I don’t like you to describe yourself that way. You are a gifted artist and my best friend.”

  Zoe smiled. “All right, I’m not a peasant. Now tell me when you noticed me.”

  “I was in Father’s office when you came into the church the day he asked you about coming to work for me. He had already told me that you were feisty and that you wouldn’t be too friendly. I didn’t see you, but I heard you. I fully expected you to turn him down. Later, when you threw that rock and I saw you, I finally realized who you were.”

  “Turn down the opportunity of working for the most gorgeous woman in Larissa? No way I was turning that down,” Zoe joked. “I’m a friendly sort of girl. Hey, I didn’t speak that day, so how did you know it was me?”

  “Yeah, very friendly—I had the bruise to prove it!” Eva said with a smile, clutching her head as though the blow still pained her. “How many feisty, unfriendly, green-eyed young women were there in Larissa?”

  “I don’t know. Did you go in search of green-eyed, feisty women?”

  “Didn’t have to—you came to me.” Eva shook her head and joined in Zoe’s giggles over their first meeting.

  “Come on, I think I’ve had enough of memory lane. Let’s go to bed.”

  “What about the washing up?”

  “Tomorrow,” Eva said. Taking Zoe’s hand and pulling her off the sofa, she turned off the lights, and they went into the bedroom.

  ***

  Eva stirred and opened sleepy eyes. She looked at the clock and saw it was only two a.m. She grimaced, put her head down on her pillow again, and then she heard the banging. It stopped, but started up again after a moment. Zoe was fast asleep, cuddled up next to her. Not wanting to wake her, Eva slid out of bed quietly, put on her robe and slippers, and turned on the lights in the lounge.

  She looked through the spy hole in the door and did not see anyone, but she knew someone was out there. The banging started again, then stopped, and she went back into the spare bedroom. Feeling apprehensive, she picked up Zoe’s cricket bat, hefted it in a two-handed grip, and made a couple of practice swings.