Gage answered her question truthfully. “I was at Frankfurt International Airport. Someone driving what I think was a BMW 3-series hit me on the top level of a parking garage. The car was blue, and might have been an M-model.”
He had to give the women credit. Even though they probably already knew this, they didn’t react to his admission.
“You left the scene,” the younger one said. She’d introduced herself as Detective Winter and Gage assumed her to be in her late thirties. She was the shorter of the two, with olive skin, brown hair and brown eyes. Her curly hair was down and went well with her dark outfit of a skirt and sweater. She wore a basic amount of gold jewelry and her nails were painted reddish orange. At any other time, Gage would have found her attractive. But, at the moment, he was too tired and in too much pain.
Speaking of pain—Gage’s left butt cheek throbbed with each beat of his heart.
“I did leave the scene,” he grunted, “but I was bewildered, and I also needed medical attention.”
Unimpressed, Detective Bräden arched her eyebrows. “Really? Do you know that in Germany leaving the scene of a crime is against the law?”
“I needed medical attention, badly.”
“Did you go to the hospital?” Winter asked.
“No. I came here.”
“Then who gave you the medical attention?” Bräden demanded.
“I did.”
The two women frowned as they looked at one another.
“Are you a medical professional?” Bräden continued.
“I have extensive medical training,” Gage answered. “Am I being charged with a crime?”
“Possibly,” Winter said.
“Are you charging me right now?” Gage asked.
“Not yet,” Winter answered. “We’re here to discuss what happened as we gather information.”
With a bit of pain, Gage retrieved the pot of coffee and three mugs, along with cream and sugar. Winter added a splash of cream to hers. Bräden and Gage took theirs black.
“Do you know who drove the car that hit me?” Gage asked.
“No,” Winter answered.
“Why aren’t you out there looking for that person?” Gage asked.
“Other officers are working on that,” Bräden replied with a humorless smile, her expression saying, “We’ll ask the damn questions.”
Winter jumped back in. “Please tell us what happened after you were struck by the car.”
“It nearly killed me. Tossed me up in the air like a rag doll. Once I was able to move again, I limped downstairs and saw the car that hit me smash into a car that was at the pay exit.”
“Yes, we’ve seen the security video,” Winter replied. “You didn’t appear to need medical attention then.”
“I was probably operating on adrenaline,” Gage answered. “I don’t remember much about it other than the extreme pain.”
He felt silly giving such descriptions, but he was doing his best to avoid any sort of detainment.
“Did you have a pistol in your hand, Herr Hartline?” Bräden asked.
“A pistol?”
“Ja.”
“I don’t think so,” he replied, screwing up his face. “Where would I have gotten a pistol?”
The two detectives made eye contact. Winter sipped her coffee before she spoke. “In the video, you hurriedly limped to your employer’s car, the Audi, and you reemerged with what looked to be a pistol before you ran down the stairs. You were holding it in the video when you emerged from the stairwell. You then tucked it into your pants and covered it with your shirt and jacket.”
Gage shrugged. “Jeez, that’s weird.”
Bräden spoke next. “Is the pistol in the car?”
“I don’t think so,” Gage answered. “I’m not really sure about any of this. A pistol…are you certain?”
“Yes, a pistol,” Winter replied.
“All I recall is getting hit and then trying to figure out why someone hit me. Maybe I have a concussion,” he theorized, rubbing his head.
“Thought you had extensive training?” Winter asked.
“Concussions are tough to self-diagnose.”
“Did you see who was driving the car?” Bräden asked, cradling her mug, visibly frustrated.
“No.”
“Anything? A man? A woman? More than one person in the car?”
“I didn’t see anything distinctive about the driver,” Gage replied. “I think I remember seeing a silhouette through the rear windshield, after the wreck at the pay exit, but that’s it. It could have been the headrest.”
“Did the person appear tall?” Winter asked.
Again, he shrugged. “I’d be guessing. Everything about what happened is fuzzy.”
“Anything else that could be helpful?” Winter continued.
“I really have no idea.” Gage eyed the two women. “You said you’ve seen the video. Have you run the car’s license plates?”
Winter looked at Bräden, who nodded. “Stolen,” Winter replied.
“The car was stolen?”
“The plates,” Bräden answered.
“Is there any other way to identify the car? Maybe from the GPS or maintenance system?”
“If there is, that would far supersede our abilities at the Hessische Polizei,” Bräden responded. “That said, we’ve already requested that our technical department look into the possibility. Thank you.”
“Do you have any enemies here, Herr Hartline?” Winter asked.
“Enemies? Wow. Not that I’m aware of.”
“No one you can think of who might want to do you harm?” she persisted.
“No.”
“Why did you go to Nice for just one day?” Bräden asked, drinking her coffee as her icy eyes remained fixated on Gage.
“Just for some sun.”
Winter curled her lip. “For only one day?”
“I thought a day trip might be fun.”
“The weather in Nice this time of year is quite chilly,” Winter added.
“But it was sunny.”
The detectives joined eyes. They
