“Any ideas where she might be?”
Ina slowly turned in a full circle, her eyes searching. When she stopped, she eyed Gage. “Did you two have a fight?”
“No, not really. We had a discussion that was…complicated.”
“About what?”
“Not relevant, Ina. Any friends she may have stayed over with? Guy friends?”
“No,” Ina said dismissively. “She really likes you, Gage.”
“Thanks.”
“Screw this.” Ina lifted her phone and tapped in a few numbers. “I’m calling the polizei. I’m sure they’ll say—oh, hello…yes, I’d like to report a missing person.”
Ina spent the next few moments getting transferred twice. In the end, the polizei took Katja’s information but said they couldn’t act for 48 hours unless there were signs of criminal activity, of which Ina couldn’t provide.
Gage held his hand out for Ina’s phone.
“You calling back?” she asked.
He hefted it in his hand—an iPhone. “Katja has an iPhone, just like this one.”
“Yeah, so?”
“If we could access her Apple account, and if she has Find My iPhone turned on, we can see where she is—or, at least where the phone is. She’ll know it when we do, but still.”
“Really?”
Gage explained it.
Ina led Gage to Katja’s kitchen. On the far side of the kitchen was Katja’s desk where she kept correspondence, stationary and the like. Ina opened the top right drawer and removed what looked like a compact brown day-timer.
Don’t forget to find Karl’s brown binder, Gage reminded himself.
Ina opened Katja’s day-timer and flipped through several sections before stopping at a section with what appeared to be dozens of logins and passwords.
It certainly wasn’t the most secure system Gage had ever seen, but he was thankful Katja utilized such a rudimentary password system. They walked back to Ina’s house where she opened her MacBook.
The feeling of dread Gage had been experiencing hadn’t gone away. In fact, it was worse. He watched as Ina tapped in the alphanumeric code.
* * *
Once Katja’s Apple account had been accessed, Ina navigated to the Find My iPhone page and began the search. The system took only a few seconds to show that her phone was online. The map zoomed into what appeared to be a rural area. Ina allowed Gage to use the computer as he zoomed out enough to see she was northwest of Frankfurt.
“She’s closest to a town called Schmitten,” Gage said.
“I’m familiar with it. That’s near Grosser Feldberg,” Ina answered, referring to the highest mountain in the state of Hessen.
“Why would she be over there?”
Ina shook her head, frowning afterward. “No idea.”
The blip on the map was located a few kilometers south of Schmitten. Gage switched to satellite view, noting that there were only a few rural roads leading away from the main two-lane road in that area. There were what appeared to be a number of homes nearby. He knew enough to know that the cell towers used triangulation to pinpoint the phone.
That’s what got Monika killed, he recalled inwardly. Those sick bastards tracked her to our Frankfurt hotel room by her phone signal.
“Is that accurate?” Ina asked, tapping the blinking dot.
Gage was thankful he was with Ina because her words snapped him from his horrid recollection.
“Should be, but out there I doubt it’s as accurate as it would be in a highly populated area with more cell towers. Regardless, it should take us to the general area.” He produced his own phone and flagged the spot on his map. “I’m going. You coming with me?”
Ina seemed somewhat less concerned now. “No, I’ll stay here.”
“You don’t have any idea why she’d be there?”
“I truly don’t.”
“Can you do me a favor and watch the map? If she moves, I need you to let me know.”
“Of course.”
Two minutes later, Gage was roaring to the west, away from the Vogel estate. His map estimated 26 kilometers to where Katja’s iPhone was located. He’d take Autobahn 5 for half of the distance, before turning west on a winding secondary road to the Taunus Mountains.
Out on the autobahn, Gage pushed the Audi to its considerable limits.
* * *
Gage watched the map as it automatically zoomed in when he grew closer. He was now only a few kilometers away from Katja’s phone. The forest was thick here as Grosser Feldberg loomed to Gage’s south. The Taunus Mountains are quite old, not unlike the Appalachians, with broad, tree-covered hills and no jagged peaks. Grosser Feldberg is easily identified, not only by its height, but also by the conspicuous lookout tower and antennas at its summit. The mountain is a common sight from Frankfurt and the surrounding region, and now the dome menaced through dark shadows on one side of Karl Vogel’s Audi.
But far more pressing to Gage was the growing blip on his map. He was now less than a kilometer away, approaching several bends in the road. When he rounded the second bend, Gage witnessed something that made his palms go damp.
On the right side of the road, he saw twin skid marks and several pine saplings bent over where they’d been hit. Gage didn’t brake until the last moment, sliding to the left side of the road and parking the Audi on the grass. He jumped from the car and crossed the road, peering down the steep slope that led to a creek far below.
His worst fears were confirmed.
In a tangle of dead winter foliage, Gage was able to see the distinctive front end of a late model Mercedes…
Katja’s ghost-silver Mercedes.
Mangled.
He bounded down the hill. The drop was steep below the curve, falling approximately 30 meters down to a brook. The earth was soft from rain and snow, nearly making him fall. Gage didn’t care—he descended as fast as
