by Susan Finlay
Karl rubbed his beard. “You think he kill Birgitta?”
Max didn’t answer.
“Did you talk to him this morning? Did Birgitta and your boy argue?”
“I wish I knew, Gramps. I haven’t talked to Ryan. Last time I saw him was in the stable right after the tryst. We quarreled and he ran off. I didn’t know Birgitta found out about what they did until you told me just now. I don’t know how she reacted.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I can imagine her being angry at both of them. I know she was protective of her granddaughter. But even if Birgitta and Ryan got into an argument, I seriously doubt he would kill her. He’s rebellious and sometimes stupid and has a tendency, when he gets scolded or upset, to run off the way he did with me last night. He’s never been in any kind of real trouble, though.”
Karl nodded. “Did you see Lotte or Birgitta while you were outside?”
Max raised his eyebrows. “I can’t say for sure. I mean, it was dark out and I wasn’t really looking for anyone else. My mind was elsewhere, you know.”
Karl had heard some of the conversation going on inside the gasthof this morning. He had watched silently and studied body language, something Monika had talked to him about when she was visiting him and Margrit twenty years ago. He suspected Lotte had started the rumors about Max and Ryan, though he couldn’t be certain. He had seen her whispering in the ears of other guests.
“Birgitta must have left room after we went asleep,” Karl said. “But why, I ask myself? Sofie says she woke up in night when she heard a noise. She figured it was you or Ryan coming in. She went back to sleep. But it must have been Lotte and Birgitta leaving.”
“So you think Lotte talked her into leaving the room and then killed her?”
Karl shrugged.
“I know they didn’t like each other,” Max said. “I heard them arguing sometimes, but didn’t know what it was about. Why didn’t they get along?”
Karl looked at his own hands folded together on the table in between himself and Max. He could reveal a bit about his past without telling him things that would be best kept secret. “When I was schoolboy, maybe a year or two younger than your boy, I dated Lotte for short time. We break up and I marry Margrit.”
Max gaped at him, but said nothing.
“I think when Lotte arrived back in Riesen—in this time period—and saw me again, she think we get back together.”
“Did she ever try to break up your marriage with Grandma?”
He shrugged.
“Did she try to come between you and Birgitta?”
Silence.
“Come on, Gramps. It could be important.”
“I do not know answer. Birgitta was jealous woman. She knew about Lotte and me.”
“Did you tell the soldiers?”
“Tell them what? That I think Lotte may be killer. Why would they believe? People are saying you and Ryan did it. The Feld gendarmes—the military police—are going to arrest both of you. They take you to Augsburg. We can’t let them.”
“Oh God! Gramps, please believe me. I didn’t kill her. I don’t think Ryan did, either.”
Karl closed his eyes for a moment, his control failing. What was he going to do without Birgitta? A hand—his grandson’s—suddenly covered his hand, and that tender touch tore at what little control remained, and made him want to cry. He could not lose his grandson and great-grandson, too. He steeled himself at the thought. He would deal with his pain later. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and looked at Max. His grandson suddenly looked young and afraid.
A memory of Max at sixteen sprang to mind. Max had recently gotten his driver’s license. Karl had been visiting. Max’s father, coming home from work and pulling his car into the garage, had noticed a big dent in the rear bumper of Monika’s car. He’d rushed into the house and instantly started yelling at Max. The boy had cringed while repeating over and over, ‘I didn’t do it’. Monika had finally spoken up and taken responsibility. Karl had been in the car with her when she had the accident on the way to the grocery store, and he knew she was dreading her husband’s reaction. It was her third accident in six months. Her husband had lectured her about the terrible example she was setting for their kids, and he made her give him her car keys.
Seeing once again that same denial and fearful face, Karl quietly said, “I believe you.” Leaning in closer to Max, he whispered, “Must get you out of here. We make a diversion, then you run. Take boy with you. I get horses ready.”
“How will you do that?”
“I do not know yet. I figure out.”
“Then what? We all leave together? And what about Lotte?”
“You and Ryan go. We must stay ‘til things quiet. Then we look for you. We find you and then we figure out how to prove you innocent. Only then can you be safe. Ride away from here.”
“Where? Should we continue to Augsburg?”
“Nein!” He glanced at the soldier, then lowered his voice again even though the man did not understand English, because he did not want him to hear the name of the town. “They know we were going that way. Must change course. Ride toward Günzberg. We find you there.”
“We don’t know our way around. How are we supposed to find that place?”
“I do not have answer. You will figure out.”
“But—”
Karl stood up and left the room, hoping Max would follow his directions. In the outer room, he asked to speak with his great-grandson. The boy needed to know the plan, too.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SMOKE DRIFTED UNDERNEATH the closed door, causing the guard to blink his eyes and sniff at the air. When shouting started, the guard sprang up from his chair and ran out of the room to see what was amiss, leaving the door wide open. Is this the diversion Gramps had talked about? Well, even if it wasn’t, Max saw his opportunity and dashed out of the room and into the midst of a frenzied crowd. He elbowed his way through the throng and out the front door. Outside, people were running in every direction, some carrying pales of water. Everywhere he looked, the scene was utter chaos. Max recognized a few faces from the dining hall the night before, but didn’t see anyone from his group. A loud whistle caught his attention. Ryan and Karl were half-hidden under some trees near the back of the stables, and Karl was holding the reins of two horses.
Max, running as fast as his legs would carry him, almost crashed into a man, but veered to the side in the nick of time. As he reached Karl, Max bent over with his hands braced on his knees to catch his breath. Finally, he looked up at Karl.
“You ride fast but stay off the roads,” Karl said. “Feld gendarmes will be hunting you. Go to Günzberg. We find you there.”
“We don’t know this area, Gramps. How do you expect us to find that city?”
“Go now!”
KARL WATCHED MAX and Ryan ride away. Once they were out of sight, he disappeared into the crowd which had gathered outside on the long side of the gasthof. Noisy onlookers watched as men flung buckets of water from the local well and from the nearby river onto the flames. He had been careful to start the fire in a section of the gasthof that he figured could be easily extinguished and would not harm anyone.
Anneliese saw him and rushed toward him, practically throwing herself into his arms and burying her head as she cried.
“I am sorry, Opa. If I had not gone to the stables with Ryan—”
“Shush, girl. We won’t talk about it now.”
She looked up at his face. “Are you going to send me away now that Oma is gone? Back to Papa? He will be angry.”
“Nein. You are my granddaughter still. Your oma would want us to stay together no matter what.”
“I cannot believe Oma is gone. I miss her already. This is all my fault.”
“I miss her, too,” he said. “You must not blame yourself. Just learn. No good comes from guilt.”
MAX WASN’T SURE how long they’d been riding, nor in which direction. How the hell was he supposed to find Günzberg? Hell, he couldn�
�t even find his grandmother’s house in Riesen without Sofie’s help. At a narrow stream, he stopped to let his horse drink. Ryan did the same. Max peeked at his son from the corner of his eye, having many things he wanted to ask him but not wanting to risk another argument like the one they’d had last night, especially knowing Ryan’s typical response would be to take off on his own and sulk, or worse. Max walked over to the edge of the stream, stooped down, and splashed water on his face. Thirsty, he cupped his hands and drank.
Without speaking, they climbed back onto the horses and began moving again. They continued riding until Max spotted a town in the distance. He resisted the urge to shout out ‘Hallelujah’. He picked up his pace and Ryan followed. When they were close enough to make out detail, he groaned. Gasthof Birkenshire in Altenmünster lay at the foot of the hill. He could still see some smoke hovering above the inn. The building had survived, with only one section appearing damaged. What were they supposed to do now? Damn, damn, damn. Not only unable to speak the language, alone and lost in the eighteenth century, but now they were going in circles and going to get caught.
“Good work, Dad.”
“You think you can do better? Be my guest.”
Ryan didn’t answer. He waited for Max to lead the way. Max turned his horse around and scanned the vista, trying to get a feel for the lay of the land. They’d left the town in such a hurry that he wasn’t even sure which way they’d ridden. His best guess was that they should head straight south from their current location. Only which way was south?
SOFIE AND HER companions stopped for the evening in the tall grass near the road outside of Günzberg, alongside another family who had been visiting relatives because the man’s sister had recently given birth. As Karl and Lotte set-up camp, Sofie spoke with the other family and inquired about Monika. They told her that someone at a neighboring farm near Senden was named Monika and was around the age of the woman they were searching for. Sofie thanked them and told Karl what she’d found out.
“Wunderbar!” he said. “We go to Senden in the morning.”
“No. We can’t leave yet. Not until we find Max and Ryan.”
“You think I do not want to find them, too? We searched the entire day. It could take long time to find them, especially stuck driving a carriage, which can only travel on roads. We need to ride horseback like Max and son are doing.”
“All right, I guess that makes sense.”
Karl said, “We take carriage to Senden and find that farm and then I come back for them on horseback. Maybe someone at that farm will help, too, even if it is not our Monika’s farm.”
She nodded. Though she didn’t like it, they were traveling in a carriage which Karl had rented and which was pulled by Karl’s horses, and they were searching for Karl’s daughter, as well as his grandson and great-grandson. Besides, he was the elder member of their group and was mourning the loss of his wife. She knew about grief—she’d lost loved ones—and aggravating him with objections would only cause him more pain. That was the last thing she wanted.
Sofie sat in the grass, watching Karl build the campfire. She’d offered to help, but he wouldn’t let her. His face was lined with worry, and his hair was wilder looking than before. How horrible he must feel, not only losing his wife, but also knowing that his son and grandson were suspected of killing her. Karl was also now responsible for Birgitta’s grieving granddaughter, who was inconsolable. Anneliese had lost her grandmother, and in a way, her boyfriend. Throughout the day, whenever they’d stopped to ask people if they’d seen two strangers, Karl had tried to comfort her by putting his arm around her shoulder and talking to her. Sofie had tried consoling her, too, but consoling wasn’t one of her talents. As a mother, I should be the best at consoling. What does that say about my mothering skills? To Sofie’s surprise, it was actually Tobias who helped the most. Well maybe at least I’m doing something right with my son. He would hold Anneliese’s hand, sit with her in the carriage, and listen. Tante Lotte sat silently, off to the side, away from the others whenever possible. Sofie had tried engaging her in conversation, but she wouldn’t talk.
After dinner, Sofie sat next to Karl and asked quietly, “Are you all right? You must miss Birgitta terribly?”
Karl looked away, but not fast enough; Sofie saw his eyes fill with tears. She put her arm around his shoulder. “I am very sorry for your loss. I know what it is like to lose loved ones. I never expected anyone to get hurt.”
He nodded, unable to speak.
“If there is anything I can do, I am here for you. You can talk to me when you feel up to it. I did not know her well, but I miss her, too.”
As the night grew darker and most of the travelers went to sleep, Sofie and Karl took turns standing guard because they no longer felt safe. When she tried to sleep, Sofie’s mind tumbled. Why was it that when depressed, the happy memories got buried somewhere in the muddiest parts of the mind and the most miserable memories got dredged up, making you sadder still? She decided she had enough sad memories to last two lifetimes—and guilt—both present and past—to go along with them.
The next day, tired from lack of sleep, and edgy, they headed out at first light. Finally, in late afternoon they arrived at the village of Senden. They inquired about Monika and were given directions to a farm outside the village. Several men and two teenage boys met them in the yard, but stood with arms crossed and mouths closed tightly. After a few moments, one man, presumably the owner of the farm, asked what they wanted.
Sofie stood nearby and listened as Karl introduced himself and explained that he was looking for Monika Kimmel Hollander.
“We do not know anyone by that name. You must leave now.”
A teenage girl came outside and stood on the front porch, watching silently. She wasn’t close enough to hear the conversation, yet didn’t move closer.
Karl said, “She might be going by another name. I have not seen her in twenty years. Some people in the village told me that the woman who lives here is the right age and is named Monika. I was hoping to speak with her.”
“She is not here,” the man said. “Makes no matter. She is not the woman you are seeking.”
“Please. All I ask is to speak to her for a few minutes.”
“Who are you?” he asked. Sofie detected an edginess to his voice.
“I am Karl Kimmel. The woman we are searching for is my daughter.”
There was silence again, like when they had first arrived. The man squinted, perhaps trying to see a resemblance.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Riesen.”
The man didn’t respond, nor uncross his arms. Sofie suspected they’d found the right farm and that he was lying. Apparently, Karl thought so, too, because he took several steps toward the house. The group of men immediately blocked him.
Sofie bit her fingernail. They were probably going to send them away without helping and without even letting them know if Max’s mother lived there. Could their luck get any worse? The moment she thought that, she knew the answer was yes. She closed her eyes and willed herself to stay calm—well, reasonably calm. Making a scene wasn’t going to help. Think. What could help?
When she reopened her eyes, she looked over at the farmhouse nearby. Tobias was approximately halfway between the house and where Sofie was standing. He was drawing in the dirt with a stick. Nobody would prevent her from chasing after her little boy if he were to wander off, would they? She glanced back at the men. They hadn’t again yelled at them to leave. They seemed absorbed in private conversation.
She picked up a pebble and tossed it toward Tobias, who looked up when the pebble landed in the dirt directly in front of him. He turned his head in her direction, and she motioned with her finger for him to come. He rushed over. She whispered her plan to him. He went back to the dirt, drew for a moment longer, and watched the men. When one of them looked in his direction, Tobias jumped up and scurried toward the house.
Sofie looked at the man, raised her a
rms as if frustrated, and said, “Sorry. I will get him.”
The man nodded. As she was about to go off in the direction Tobias had gone, she heard Karl say that he would leave, but that he would appreciate if they could tell him where he might find someone to help search for two other family members who had gotten separated from his group en route to Senden. He would be willing to pay for help.
Sofie couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation because she was concentrating on her task. She peeked into windows and doorways and pretended she was looking for her son. After several moments, the teenage girl who had stood around watching everything earlier, approached her and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Oh, sorry, I am looking for my son. He is nine and he disappeared from our carriage.”
“I saw him earlier, when you first arrived.”
“He is a curious child who gets caught up in exploring new places. I have to keep a constant eye on him, especially considering that we have already gotten separated from other family members who were traveling with us. We need help finding them. We are desperate. Surely, you can imagine what it is like. Have you ever lost someone?”
The girl nodded. “I got lost once. It was terrifying. I will talk to my father and try to convince him to help. Wait over there on the porch.” She scurried off.
Tobias came out of hiding and joined his mother and they walked onto the porch. The man in charge saw them and stared for a moment, while talking to the girl. When they stopped talking, the girl ran back to Sofie and Tobias. Lotte and Anneliese followed her.
“My father says you can come in the house,” the girl said.
Tobias looked up at his mother and smiled.
As they were about to enter the house, Sofie whispered to Tobias, “Go inside. I will be there shortly.”
She watched Karl as he nodded to the man, then strode over to her.
