“He was French, a businessman named Yves. Nice fella. She had him here when Herr Vogel was traveling. She tried to play it off like he was a business associate, but I could tell.” Thomas stared off in the distance. “He owned a real estate company that specialized in retail properties. That’s how come she met him, back when she was in the business. Years later, he caught some of his people laundering money through his business and when he tried to stop it, he got himself killed.”
Gage connected the dots with what Claudia told him. “Did you know the man, personally?”
“I only met him a few times, very briefly. All things considered, he seemed like a good enough fella.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Long time. Maybe twenty-five or thirty years ago?”
“When was he killed?”
“More recently, but still quite a while ago.”
“Thomas, would anyone you know have any desire to hurt Claudia, or would they have wanted to hurt Herr Vogel?”
“Not Missus Claudia…not that I can think of.” He scratched his chin. “I can’t predict who would have wanted to hurt Herr Vogel. But I can tell you this—it seemed like everyone was happy when he died.”
“Was Claudia?”
After a moment, Thomas shrugged.
“Did Herr Vogel have any friends?”
With a snort, Thomas shook his head. “There were plenty who acted like friends. Politicians, mainly. Some of his senior managers, too.”
“But no true friends that you’re aware of?”
“Herr Vogel loved one person—himself.” Thomas frowned. “Why were you asking about people who might have wanted to hurt Herr Vogel? He died of a bad heart.”
“I’m just trying to get a mental picture of any possible threats for Claudia. That’s all.”
“Makes sense.”
After a bit more chitchat, their meeting adjourned. Tomorrow, Thomas would give Gage a full tour of the estate.
Gage considered Thomas a strong ally in his mission to protect Claudia.
* * *
Though he’d had the benefit of a lie-flat seat on his flight to Germany, Gage retired early during his first night at the Vogel estate—it had been quite a day. Of course, since he went to sleep early, he awoke well before sunrise the following morning. In the hallway, he checked the tiny thread he’d left on Claudia’s doorknob. It was still there. Gage promised himself that today he would learn how to use the security system properly. Decades old spycraft was not the best method to ensure his employer’s safety.
Gage went downstairs and brewed a pot of coffee with the high-end coffee machine, already spoiled by the excellent java it produced.
Wearing a sweatshirt, athletic pants and sneakers, he stood in the main foyer, drinking coffee and staring out the window at the cold blackness of the late autumn morning. Dry leaves swirled in the courtyard—the forecasted rain had never come.
But Gage’s mind wasn’t on the weather. No. It was awash in this job and all the weighty things he’d learned in the past day.
Karl Vogel was not a nice man—at least, according to his caretaker of many years. And there were things about Karl that it appeared his wife didn’t know. Claudia had said he was faithful. Thomas said he wasn’t—not by a long shot.
Who to believe? And did it matter?
These pieces of information mattered.
Gage had learned that the two Vogel offspring were suspects in their father’s death—at least as far as their mother was concerned—and were currently in jeopardy of losing their quality of life and inheritance.
He’d also come to the conclusion that Claudia Vogel was strong, determined and had a flair for the dramatic.
But the one thing that bothered Gage more than anything was the fact that he had no proof whatsoever that Karl Vogel had been murdered. No one did.
Well, except for Claudia. And how reliable is a pinprick on the neck and elevated levels of potassium in the blood? Gage made another mental note to look into this.
As the caffeine went to work on his central nervous system, Gage also fleetingly wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into.
He wanted to call Colonel Hunter for advice but decided to wait. Surely, there was more to learn in the coming days. Perhaps he could reason with Claudia. Maybe there was some way her attorneys could create a document that would only cut the daughters out of the will if indelible proof were found that demonstrated one of them had actually killed their father. Regardless, he knew better than to bring such an idea up while she was still fresh in the throes of—
Gage’s train of thought was cut off by a flash of color in the darkness. He focused his vision through the window by the front door, watching as a woman stopped running and began walking with her hands on her hips.
Ina.
She wore a tight pink running jacket and a matching head wrap over her ears. Both her gray paneled running crops and shoes reflected light, illuminating her motions. She cooled down for a moment before she looked at him and waved. Gage waved back, feeling slightly awkward for gawking through the window.
And here she comes.
Ina walked to the door and attempted to open it. Gage unlocked the two bolts and opened the door. Without waiting for an invite, she pushed her way in.
“You’re up early,” Ina said in English.
“Good morning to you,” he answered in German, following her. She walked to the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of water from the pantry.
“Cold water in the refrigerator.”
“I don’t like cold water after running,” she answered perfunctorily. She walked back into the foyer and stretched her calves by using the bottom stair. Ina sniffled several times before going to the restroom. He could hear her blowing her nose. When she emerged, she swigged her water and gestured to him. “Tell me about yourself.”
“What would you
