“Did I hear you talking to someone a while ago?” I asked him cautiously. I took a quick shower as soon as I woke, hoping to be dressed by the time Henry woke up, but almost as soon as I stepped under the stream, I heard Henry speaking quietly in the hallway. By the time I was dressed, he had returned to his room.
“Yeah, I called Walt to let him know I’d be late,” he said. He took another bite of his apple, and I noticed the 1401 BA SE scrawled in ink on the back of his hand. What did that mean? Was it a lumber thing—a reminder to do something at his job? “Then I called the police. Someone is coming round shortly.”
“What?” I said, as my heart sank. “Henry, no. I know last night felt real, but it was just one of those dreams you used to have. You’ve never even met Jürgen Rhodes. How would you know what he looks like?”
“How many other German men in this town have a beef with you, huh?” Henry said, frowning. “I know what I heard.”
“When you woke us up, you were in the kitchen, thrashing around against no one,” I said uneasily. “You know I’m not a fan of those Germans, but in this case, the intruder was in your imagination.”
Henry’s brows knit for a moment. Then he paused.
“Well, it won’t hurt for the police to come and check the house.”
Hell. How was I going to get through to him? I didn’t even have time to think about it, because a quiet knock came from the door. I scurried after Henry when he rose quickly to answer it.
The police officer was middle-aged and sharp-eyed. He stood in my foyer and peered into the living room, notebook in hand. Henry introduced himself, then pointed to me.
“Officer Johnson, this is Lizzie Miller. Mrs. Calvin Miller. Cal was here last night, but he’s at work at Redstone Arsenal now. He works on the rocket program there.”
“I’m Detective Johnson, Mrs. Miller,” the police officer said. “Pleased to meet you.”
“And you too,” I said weakly. Then I added, “My husband and I really didn’t see a thing.”
“Sounds like the intruder came in, realized he was outnumbered, and left,” Johnson said grimly. He glanced at Henry and added, “Probably didn’t expect to find two men here. You’re sure the intruder was this Jürgen Rhodes?”
“Pretty sure,” Henry said. Then he paused. “It was dark. But he had a German accent and Rhodes makes perfect sense. My sister had an argument with his wife last weekend.”
The officer excused himself as he moved past me, glancing into each of the rooms. Henry followed him, and I followed Henry.
I tried to see the house through his eyes. My home was a picture of perfect order: expensive furniture and artwork, carefully selected and arranged, highly polished floorboards I mopped every single day, the drapes I kept free of dust, the windows I cleaned once a week.
Surely the police officer could see that this was not the site of a break-in and attempted assault. Not a single item was out of place. Even so, Henry spun the officer a story as he walked through the house.
I don’t sleep well since the war. I was in bed, wide-awake. Heard a sound. Went to investigate. Saw Rhodes in the house. Chased him. A bit of a scuffle in the kitchen—pinned him against the fridge. Lizzie and Cal heard the noise and woke up just after Rhodes ran out. Probably out the back door. We never lock it.
This whole encounter was so absurd, I was starting to wonder if I was dreaming.
“I didn’t…” I interrupted as Johnson looked closely at the latch on the back door. “Cal and I really didn’t see or hear any of that. Not a thing.” What was I supposed to do in this situation? I had to tell the officer that Henry was imagining things, but I didn’t want to inflame him, and I certainly didn’t want to embarrass him.
“You probably slept through it,” Johnson said dismissively. He puffed out a breath of air, then looked between me and Henry.
“These Germans worry me,” he told Henry.
“Me too,” Henry said.
“You’re a veteran?”
“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.”