“Stop beating yourself up,” Gage said. He hugged her with his left arm. “Shh, c’mon now. You’ve got to forgive yourself before you can move on.”
“He always gave me money. I didn’t like being with him, but I needed him to make ends meet.”
“I get it, believe me. We’ve all done things for money we wouldn’t normally do.”
She took the lid off the coffee and took a few large sips.
“Ursula, now that Karl and Claudia have passed…why not find another job?”
“I will. It’s just…”
“Yeah?”
“I waited to find out what might happen with you.”
Gage felt miserable. He had no idea that Ursula’s interest in him was genuine. Although he didn’t want to trample on her feelings, he felt the need to be candid.
“I find you attractive and charming Ursula…”
“But,” she interjected.
“Yes, there is a ‘but’ coming. It’s just that I’m not staying here. As soon as my work is over, I’m leaving and heading back to the U.S.,” he said, his mind briefly picturing Katja as he wondered if he were telling the complete truth. But he didn’t think he would stay here for Katja, either—not that she’d want him to.
Maybe she’ll want to come back to the States with me?
No…don’t think that way. Don’t set yourself up for a letdown.
“Okay, Gage,” Ursula whispered. “I understand. I’ll start looking for a new job.”
“You don’t have to, but I would if I were you. I don’t know what the future of the estate will be. And I’m sure I can have the Vogels give you an excellent reference.”
“Yeah…”
“Ursula, last night you said Karl was always making notes. Where did he write them?”
“He had a leather binder. Kept it beside him always.”
“What color?”
“Brown.”
“Any idea where it is?”
She shrugged.
“I’ll look for it.”
“Have a nice day,” she said dismissively. Ursula kept the sheet and blanket wrapped tightly around her. She made her way to the bathroom and stood in the doorway. Without turning, she again apologized for her actions.
“No need to be sorry.”
Ursula shut the door.
Gage said goodbye through the closed door as he departed the hotel room. The conversation had been awkward and depressing. He was glad to be out of the room but felt a great deal of empathy for Ursula. He walked two kilometers at a brisk pace back to the parking deck at Konstablerwache. The cold air again invigorated him after the heavy conversation in the stuffy hotel room.
Though the day was mostly clear and setting up to be pretty, something hung over Gage like a pall. After examining his mood, he decided it wasn’t his empathy for Ursula. As Gage headed north out of Frankfurt, he realized it was something else—something instinctive.
Or am I just blue today? I’m not prone to depression, but this tangled web of dysfunction and despondency might be dragging me down.
He recalled Colonel Hunter’s warnings about this being a messy affair. Once again, the colonel was correct…
Gage reminded himself to search for Karl Vogel’s brown binder. He’d gone through the man’s effects two times but had never seen a binder. Could he have hidden it? No—he’d been bedridden. So, he couldn’t have hidden it, could he? Perhaps Claudia had stored it somewhere.
Or, maybe she’d destroyed it? She was detail-oriented—she’d have known it contained sensitive information.
When Gage reached the Vogel estate, he parked the Audi and went inside. He hurriedly showered, brushed his teeth and put on fresh clothes. Then, ready to face the music, he crossed the courtyard and rapped on Katja’s door. There was no answer.
Gage walked around the back to her garage, noting that each of the doors was closed. He peered through the side window, seeing that her Mercedes was gone.
Gage phoned the front gate. “You guys seen Katja today?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you both come on at seven?”
“Yes.”
“I saw her leaving yesterday evening,” Gage said. “Will you check to see when she came back?”
“Sure, hang on,” the guard answered. “Here it is—one sec. Okay, she actually hasn’t returned since she left last night around seven-forty-five.”
Frowning, Gage said, “Heinrich told me she’d left word about when she’d be back.”
“Yes, sir. Says here she noted two or three hours.”
“Did she give a destination?”
“No, sir.”
“Before I arrived here, did Katja do this type of thing very often?”
“Never in my experience, sir, but I’ve only been here for a little over a year.”
“Okay. If you see her, tell her I’m looking for her, please.”
While he wasn’t concerned—Gage did find this rather peculiar. He hung up and phoned Katja. Six rings occurred before her voicemail picked up.
He repeated the action. Again. Again. Again.
Then he went to Ina’s. She answered the door with a napkin in her hand. Gage had interrupted her meal.
“You seen Katja?”
“No.”
“Any idea where she is?” Gage asked, quickly telling Ina the story. Ina frowned.
“That’s not like her.”
“That’s what Peter said,” Gage replied, referring to the guard.
“Let me finish eating and I’ll come right over.”
“Thanks.” Confused, Gage walked to the manor house. He sat on the chair in the entrance hall and tried Katja again. Still no answer.
He texted Katja:
Where are you?
There was no response.
A feeling of dread began to slither up Gage’s spine.
* * *
Gage and Ina spent 20 minutes calling Katja and attempting to figure out where she’d gone. Ina let them both into Katja’s house. They checked for notes or anything that might have clued them into her whereabouts. They found nothing.
“She didn’t say anything to you about leaving?” Gage asked.
“We didn’t talk yesterday.”
“Does her not coming back and not answering concern you?”
“Somewhat. This isn’t like Katja. She used to do stuff
