The German Wife(54)

“Yes, sir.”

“Pacific theater?”

“No, sir,” Henry said. Then he drew in a breath and straightened his spine. “Europe.”

“Thank you for your service, son. Must be troubling to have them walking around the streets of this country.”

“It truly is, sir.”

“Extra cautious from now on, all of you,” Johnson announced, sliding his notebook back into his pocket. “Keep all the doors locked. And if you hear anything, you call us right away.”

“Thank you, sir,” Henry said grimly. We all walked back along the hall to the front door in silence. My heart was thumping wildly against my chest. I had to fix this—I just didn’t have a clue how.

When the officer pushed my front door open, I panicked and blurted, “Are you going to arrest him?”

Detective Johnson turned back to offer me a gentle look.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Mrs. Miller, but it would be very difficult for us to do that when none of you saw him clearly. I’ll make some inquiries and we’ll keep an extra close eye on your house with a night patrol for a few nights in case there’s any more trouble.”

Henry glanced down at the numbers on his hand and added helpfully,

“He’s at 1401 Beetle Avenue, sir. In case you decide to interview him.”

As the officer scrawled the address down, I looked at my brother in shock.

“How do you know that?”

“His address is in the public phone book, sis. Just looked it up to save this busy officer from hunting it down, that’s all.”

I looked from Henry to the detective, sucked in a breath, and tried one last time. “Sir, Cal and I really didn’t hear anything—”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Mrs. Miller,” Detective Johnson interrupted me kindly. “You’re lucky your brother here is a soldier. He’ll keep an eye on you.”

He tipped his hat and walked along my porch, then down to his car waiting in the drive.

“Henry,” I whispered uneasily, “why would Rhodes come to his boss’s house in the middle of the night to cause trouble? It makes no sense. He wasn’t here last night. No one was.”

“You were asleep,” Henry said gently. “Just lock the house while I’m gone, okay? And if you’re home alone, don’t answer the door unless you’re sure who it is.”

My gaze dropped to that number on the back of Henry’s hand and I blurted, “Just promise me you won’t go to Rhodes’ house.”

Henry sighed impatiently.

“I’m not about to go looking for trouble. I was just trying to help, that’s all.”

With that, Henry pulled his cap on and left for work. I stood on the porch and watched my brother disappear down the street, sick with concern, but as soon as he was out of sight, I forced myself to go inside and call Calvin.

“Henry called the police, and a detective came by this morning,” I blurted, as soon as Calvin picked up my call on his office line.

“He what?”

“Maybe there was someone here?” I said hesitantly. “Henry seems so sure about it.”

I heard Calvin breathing over the line, and I could easily imagine his pensive expression. “He was fighting thin air, sweetheart. You saw that as much as I did.”

“I told them we didn’t hear anything. I told the officer at least three times,” I said heavily.

“Is there going to be any trouble from this, Lizzie? Should I warn Jürgen? Should I call the station and try to straighten it out?”

“I asked the officer if they’d arrest Rhodes and he said they couldn’t because none of us had seen him clearly. He just said they’d keep an eye on the house, maybe make some inquiries.”

“Lizzie,” Cal said quietly. “Will you talk to Henry? Please? As a matter of urgency, sweetheart. He needs to speak to a doctor. This is serious now.”

I agreed to speak to Henry that night, then spent the day wondering how I was supposed to do it without embarrassing him or setting him off.

Henry beat Cal home from work that day. He tousled my hair as he came past me in the kitchen, and I nudged him away impatiently with my shoulder because my hands were covered in ground beef.

“Is that meat loaf?” he said, peering hopefully at the bowl I was working on.

“Sure is,” I said brightly. It was his favorite, and I was trying to butter him up. “How was your day?”

“Great,” he said. “You? No trouble today?”

“Not a peep,” I said lightly. I smoothed the last of the meat into the pan and washed my hands, then slipped the pan into the oven. Henry helped himself to a beer from the fridge and was sitting at the table reading the newspaper. “Henry, listen. I was thinking you might want to see a doctor.”

He looked up at me blankly.

“A doctor? I’m not sick.”

“Well, you said you don’t sleep well now,” I said carefully. “Maybe some sleeping pills—”

“I’ve tried them,” Henry said abruptly. This was news to me.

“You have?”

Henry closed the newspaper and stood, taking the beer with him as he stepped away from the table.

“Those pills aren’t for me, sis. Besides, it’s good that I don’t sleep well at the moment.”