But, minutes later, she found herself shivering on the front porch and knocking on the door. No answer. She knocked again and heard the dog start barking, yet Max still didn’t appear. Was he sleeping? Maybe, even though it wasn’t quite eight o’clock yet.
When her next knock still went unanswered, she tried the door knob. It turned and she poked her head inside. ‘Hello?’
She could hear the dog barking, but Katya never appeared. ‘Max?’ she called.
When she went into the kitchen, she saw dishes stacked on the counter and cupboard doors open. A towel stained with red sat crumpled in the corner. Then she looked in the sink.
A knife, covered in a red, sticky substance.
Blood.
She screamed, took a step back, and tripped on the rug. She stumbled to her knees, putting out her hands to keep from hitting the floor, thinking, Protect the baby! Suddenly, Katya ran into the room, barking like mad, running in circles around her.
‘Stop it! Hush!’ she cried, putting her hands over her face, the combination of seeing the knife in the sink and the dog’s incessant barking overwhelming her.
This is why he’d not answered the phone! What had happened? Had someone taken matters into their own hands and attacked him?
Footsteps pounded into the kitchen and she almost dreaded to open her eyes. Was it the intruder, come to finish her off too?
‘Katya! Ruhe! Quiet!’
Jenni’s eyes flew open. ‘Max!’
Standing there in bare feet, wearing a pair of brown trousers, his white undershirt clutched in his hand, Max loomed over her, his face contorted with worry. ‘Are you all right? What are you doing here?’
She could only stare at him, searching for stab wounds, not seeing any on the smooth dark skin of his chest. His wet, black hair stuck up at odd angles and water droplets peppered his shoulders.
‘You… you’re not hurt?’ she asked.
Bemused, he shook his head and helped her to her feet. ‘No, I’m fine.’
‘But… but the knife in the sink…’
Desolation flashed in his eyes, then cleared, and he pointed to a tin can on the countertop she’d not noticed earlier. ‘I tried to open a tin of cherries and the can opener broke, so I used the knife. I’m afraid I made a mess.’
Jenni reached down to pick up the towel, starting to feel incredibly foolish. ‘So this isn’t… blood.’
‘Nein, of course not.’
She gave a self-deprecating laugh and examined the red stains. She could smell the tart cherry flavor. ‘I thought you’d been attacked or… something else.’
He frowned. ‘Why would you think that?’
‘Because when I called earlier, you didn’t answer the phone.’
‘What time did you call?’
‘Around six-thirty, I think.’
She tried very hard not to look at the thick, corded muscles in his shoulders, or his flat stomach, or the dusting of hair on his chest. And to think, she’d thought she’d be dealing with a stuffy old history professor. The irony was just too much.
He must have noticed her gaze for he hurriedly pulled on his undershirt. ‘I was taking Katya for a walk.’
‘Well, when you didn’t answer the door, I got worried and let myself in.’
He nodded towards the hallway. ‘I was in the shower.’
‘A perfectly logical explanation for everything,’ she mused, leaning against the counter. Her heart rate had finally returned to normal, though her knees stung from the rug burn.
‘Is there something you needed to talk to me about? Is that why you’re here?’
Now she felt stupid for stopping by. ‘Celia tried to get in touch with you earlier, but you never picked up the phone. With everything going on, we just wanted to check on you.’
For an instant, grief tightened the skin over his cheekbones and pinched his brow. Then the moment passed and his face cleared.
‘I’m fine.’
But he wasn’t fine. That was obvious.
‘Mrs Fields, I thank you for your concern,’ he continued, smoothing his hair, ‘and I thank you and Mrs Draper for all that you have done while I’ve been here. But I’m afraid I must leave.’
‘Leave?’ She frowned, trying to understand. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t have a job anymore, remember? When someone stole the diary, they also stole the reason for me being here. I can’t impose upon your hospitality.’
But she instinctively knew that wasn’t the real reason. ‘Does this have something to do with that FBI agent?’
He went very still. ‘What are you talking about?’
Unease curled her fingers around a drawer knob. Would he deny it?
‘I saw a man here at the cottage. With a badge.’
‘How did you know he was from the FBI?’
Hard lines appeared around his eyes, and she suddenly realized how much she didn’t know about him. All the words came tumbling back – spy, Nazi, Abwehr.
‘I… I heard him say so,’ she admitted.
He didn’t move, but his body stiffened, and his breathing quickened. ‘So you were eavesdropping?’
The way he said it made her wince. She should have minded her own business! What was wrong with her? Why didn’t she learn?
‘Just… just for a moment.’
‘How much did you hear?’
She didn’t like his tone. Too many years of being bullied by older brothers, not to mention her own husband, roared like a tornado into her head, effectively overruling her sensible side.
‘Listen, buster,’ she said, putting her hands on her hips, ‘I’m not proud of what I did, but if you’re in some kind of trouble with the government, then maybe you’re right. Maybe you’d better scram.’
Something flickered in his dark eyes and she didn’t know if she’d surprised him or made him angry. She judged the distance between where she stood and the door. It wouldn’t be far if she had to skedaddle. She could do it if she had to, and if he somehow caught her, why, she’d just use one of those sneaky moves Zeke had taught her.
But suddenly, all of the bluster seeped out of him like air from a punctured tyre. ‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ he said quietly. ‘I want you to know that.’
She studied him, and for the same instinctive reason she believed he hadn’t taken the diary, she believed him now. She forced her shoulders to relax. ‘All right.’
‘Do you think I took the diary?’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Then at least one person believes me.’
Max took the coffee pot from the stove and moved towards the sink. Jenni watched his every move, still on edge, still wondering what in the world she was doing here, getting caught up in this mess. Her frazzled nerves, combined with pregnancy exhaustion, had taken their toll. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a week.
‘Care for some coffee?’ he asked, filling up the pot. ‘I know it’s late, but I have a feeling I won’t get much sleep tonight.’
‘No thanks. I need all the sleep I can get.’
He smiled at that. ‘I’m afraid I don’t sleep much.’
The room grew stifling and Jenni realized she still wore her coat. Time to get out of here before she further involved herself.
‘Look,’ she said, fanning herself, ‘we’re getting off the subject. Did the man from the FBI threaten you?’
He glanced at her. ‘I thought you knew all about the conversation.’
‘No.’ Heat flushed her cheeks. ‘When Katya started barking, I left. I thought she’d heard me.’ She sounded defensive when she didn’t have any right to be. ‘Anyway, I didn’t hear much. Just something about him thinking you were a spy.’
To her surprise, Max actually started chuckling. ‘Yes. I’m afraid he’s quite wrong about that.’
His easy laugh helped allay her suspicions, but didn’t eliminate them. There was still too much about him she didn’t know. ‘But he knew you from before? Why?’
‘There was… some unp
leasantness at the university. Someone made some false accusations about me.’
‘What were those claims?’
‘That I’d volunteered my services to the Nazi government as an undercover agent. A lot of rubbish.’
‘And the FBI became involved?’
‘Yes, they hold jurisdiction over such things.’
Did she believe him? She wasn’t sure.
‘Then if you’re not a spy, why did the FBI agent show up?’
All humour disappeared from his gaze then and his expression became guarded. ‘He heard about the diary. I suppose he felt like it was further evidence.’
‘But who told him it was missing?’
‘That is a good question, and one I do not have the answer to.’
She wouldn’t put it past someone from Meadow Hills to drop a bug in his ear. Even Chief Thompson. Then again, just sitting in Merl’s Café or the bakery would give anyone the opportunity to hear all the gossip. If the FBI agent had been in Meadow Hills to check up on Max, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to find out.
‘It still doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t the FBI be more concerned with catching real spies and saboteurs?’
He nodded. ‘They should. But I’m afraid Agent Williams puts me in that same category. I don’t know how to convince him I’m not a spy.’
‘Doesn’t he believe you’re a political refugee?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘Well, I am sorry about everything,’ she said, ‘but what do you mean, you’re leaving? I thought Chief Thompson said you had to stay.’
‘He did.’ Max sighed and scratched the back of his neck. ‘I thought I’d go to the hotel downtown.’
‘That won’t work.’ She nodded towards Katya. ‘They don’t allow dogs. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with you staying here at the cottage.’
‘I can’t do that. What if they never find the diary? I can’t expect you to keep feeding me and giving me shelter. And I can’t go back to Lincoln. There is nothing and no one for me there.’
She saw it then, the hopelessness in his eyes, the same look he’d had when she’d asked him about the knife. And then it dawned on her. He had thought about offing himself! But why? Were things in his life really so bad that he wished to end it? It was obvious he badly needed someone who believed in his innocence, someone on his side. And let’s face it – he wouldn’t find anyone in this town who would be. Except for her.
Why you? she asked herself.
Because she knew how desperation felt, and what it meant to face a seemingly insurmountable problem alone. But also, no one deserved to be treated like this, guilty before proven innocent.
But while she absolutely believed him innocent of stealing the diary, she couldn’t speak against his being a Nazi spy with the same certainty. Then again, she didn’t know the whole story, and jumping to conclusions never proved fruitful. How many times had she endured hurtful gossip from those who didn’t understand or want to understand her version of events?
‘You’re staying right here in the cottage until this whole thing is solved.’ She rushed to say the next few words before she could talk herself out of it. ‘And don’t worry. You’re not alone. I’ll help you figure this mess out.’
The coffee pot began to gurgle, but Max ignored it, his mouth agape, staring at her in astonishment. ‘You? Why would you help me? You don’t even like me.’
She flinched, remembering the way she’d acted the first day they met, something she still needed to apologize for. ‘I never said I didn’t like you.’
‘Well…’ He fumbled with the coffee pot, almost knocking off the lid. ‘It’s just… I had the feeling I didn’t make a very good impression.’
‘You didn’t.’ She bit her lip. ‘That was partly my fault and I’m sorry. You didn’t know about my husband, and I had no right to make you feel bad about it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you.’
Gee whiz. It sounded like they were feuding in the hallway at a junior high dance!
‘And, well,’ he continued awkwardly, reminding her again of a shy boy, ‘I’m a German, which appears to be synonymous with enemy in this town. Even my language is verboten.’
‘I’m not like the people here. And you’re not the enemy, not to me. You left Germany to get away from Hitler. You’re not a Nazi.’
A shiver skittered across her shoulders. I don’t think so, anyway…
‘No, I’m not,’ he said, and she felt a little better to hear him so vehemently deny it.
‘Well, then, let me help you. I’ve lived in this town my entire life and I know how screwy it can be. And don’t you know that there is always something in need of fixing at a museum? Celia has a list that stretches from here to Canada, but none of us have the time or the skills to do it. We can make you earn your keep until they find the diary and clear your name.’ She folded her arms. ‘There. Now you have a reason to stay, right?’
‘Well, yes.’ The corners of his mouth lifted. ‘That would make things easier.’
Easier for him, maybe. But for her? She’d just shaken a hornet’s nest, effectively putting herself right back where she’d started. So much for following Dad’s advice!
But resolution stiffened her spine. This was the right thing to do. It had to be.
‘So what do you say, professor? Willing to stay and brave the slings and arrows of Meadow Hills?’
He poured coffee into a mug, the steam hitting him in the eyes as he looked at her. ‘I don’t know that I have much choice. But are you sure about this?’
She wasn’t. At all. ‘Of course. The diary will turn up and everything will be all right. You’ll see.’
‘You make it sound very easy. But I must ask you one thing.’
‘What’s that?’
He cradled the mug in his hand and took a sip. ‘I would rather no one knew about the FBI except you and me. It would give people the wrong impression.’
Except she’d dearly like to know what the right impression was. Her stomach flipped as she considered the very real consequences of what she’d just promised. Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe those accusations weren’t so far off the mark, and the FBI had a very good reason for pursuing him.
‘I don’t like to keep secrets,’ she said, then nearly laughed hysterically when she realized she was keeping the biggest secret of her life. ‘But you’re probably right. The less ammunition these people have, the better.’ She tried to give him a cheerful smile, but it didn’t quite form on her lips.
He regarded her, his dark eyes searching. ‘Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.’
The air felt charged between them and Jenni turned away from his gaze. Ever since she’d discovered boys in junior high, she couldn’t resist a good-looking face or the charm that inevitably came with it. And it always, always landed her in trouble. Danny dead not even three months and here she was, alone, at night, with another man.
But the last time she’d been in this room, she’d been leaning against this very counter, and Rafe had come up to her, those oh so intoxicating Cajun eyes of his full of heat. He’d put an arm on either side of her, and she’d watched in anticipation as his lips came down on her mouth. That first kiss, after being without a man for so long, had felt like the lick of flames. She’d wanted more. And she hadn’t pushed him away…
This was different. No more being selfish, damn it. She had Marty to think of, the unborn baby. Time to grow up and quit following fluttering heartbeats and dreamy eyes and start thinking with her head. Professor Koenig might compete with Gary Cooper or Errol Flynn in the looks department, but she adamantly refused to think of him in those terms. Their relationship was strictly business.
‘Don’t mention it,’ she said, hoping she sounded nonchalant. ‘Get a good night’s sleep and stop by the museum whenever you’re ready. We’ll get you started on some projects.’ She gave him a quick smile. ‘So long, professor.’
Before he could respond, she strode out the door and t
o her car. There, down the street, she saw a parked black sedan. The FBI agent.
She climbed into her Buick, trying to ignore the way her breath came in short little gasps. What had she just done? Entangled herself in a potentially dangerous situation, was what!
She hit her fist on the steering wheel. ‘Little fool!’
CHAPTER SIX
For the first time in years, Max dreamed of another woman.
Jenni.
Of course, Ilsa wouldn’t dare let him off so easily, and she’d sauntered into the gossamer tendrils of illusion, wearing a white satin dress that glided along her curves. She urged him to touch her again, where the bend of her collarbone met her shoulder, and he couldn’t resist her pale flesh.
Now, as he shivered on the back porch, blowing smoke through his nostrils, he could still feel her silken skin, and worse, the hot breath of her whisper in his ear.
I will never let you go. You are mine.
Max let the morning cold seep into every pore, desperate to numb the next images in his dream.
Jenni crying. Jenni pleading with him to save her. Jenni dying in his arms. Ilsa laughing, her fingers stained with Jenni’s blood.
Because Jenni had offered to help him, she’d unwittingly aligned herself with the villain in this drama. Everyone in this town stood against him, and they both knew it. He had to give her a chance to back out of her commitment. It was the only fair thing to do, even if it did leave him alone in this fight.
Her surprise visit last night had touched him at first, but when she’d confessed to eavesdropping, hot anger had threatened to overwhelm him. After leaving a country infamous for spying on its people, finding such behaviour in the middle of the United States appalled him.
Of course, he didn’t see any malice in her actions, and he was sure she’d not told anyone about it, otherwise Chief Thompson and Lowe would be knocking on his door.
Still. It rankled.
He pushed his cigarette butt in the bucket of sand next to the door and went back inside, rubbing feeling back into his arms. He couldn’t figure Jenni out. He saw such vitality in her, yet she hid something. Everyone had secrets, sure, but hers weren’t anything simple. Such secrets took a toll on the body, almost like an invisible weight strapped to your shoulders. He knew because he carried that same heavy weight himself and saw it in the pinch of her forehead and the way she massaged her neck.
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