Tanglewood Grotto

by Susan Finlay

  Ja, this Helmut could be him. What about Helmut Furst’s son? He looked exactly like her son. But if Helmut was her son, why didn’t he seem to recognize her? Then another thought struck her—instead of this man being her son, might he be one of her ancestors?

  The deep creases in his forehead told her he was upset, understandably considering his father-in-law’s murder.

  Sofie looked at Ingrid and said, “I guess we should go now. I’m sorry he is not your son, Oma.”

  The man looked surprised, and then squinted his eyes at Sofie. “You are her granddaughter?”

  Sofie nodded. “Uh . . . I never met her son, her Helmut. He . . . uh . . . was her oldest. He left home before my mother was born.”

  He looked more closely at Ingrid and then at Sofie. “What are your names?”

  Ingrid fidgeted. If she told him her name was Ingrid Wagner, he wouldn’t recognize her, even if she was his mother. Think. What would happen if she told him the truth—that she was Lotte Furst? Maybe he would know that she was his mother and he would wrap his arms around her and invite her into his home. Or maybe he would run to the Feldgendarms and tell them—tell them what? That his mother whom he’d fled from in the twentieth-century had time traveled to the past and found him. Why would he do that? Nein. He wouldn’t. But what if he mentioned her to them during a routine interrogation and what if they knew about Birgitta’s murder? Sofie and Ryan had given them their real names and the location where they lived. If the Feldgendarms arrested Ingrid, might they also arrest Sofie and Ryan and their family for harboring a criminal?

  Ingrid turned to leave and hoped Sofie would follow, but instead, Sofie put her hand on Ingrid’s arm. “I’m Sofie Sonnenberg Hollander. The man we’re looking for is my great uncle, Vikktor Sonnenberg.”

  Herr Furst gasped.

  His son and daughter rushed forward, “Are you all right, Papa? What’s happening? Who are these strangers?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MAX AND HIS half-brother, Konrad Hoffmann, were sitting on their horses in a meadow west of Riesen. Konrad’s wife and the others from their village were searching for Tobias locally, in hopes that Max had missed something, some sign of him. Max and Konrad had gone back to Riesen to check with Karl, who sadly told them that no one he’d spoken with in Riesen had seen the boy. They were now trying to decide whether to search for more caves in the area or to head toward Dinkelsbühl.

  By all accounts, Tobias hadn’t been seen by anyone in at least six hours. He’d never been away from home that long. Max knew Tobias missed his mother, but he didn’t really think the ten-year-old would try to travel so far away on his own. It would be far too dangerous, and Tobias was well aware of that. But Tobias also knew the danger of exploring caves in the area. Another option was that something had happened to him—a wild animal could have attacked him, but they should find evidence of that. The final option was that someone had kidnapped him. Vikktor? Could Vikktor have snatched him the way he’d snatched Sofie from her parents when she was a baby? But if he snatched the boy, why? What was in it for him? Max squinted his left eye. Well, hell, what was in it for him to snatch the baby, Sofie, all those years ago and raise her by himself? They’d never gotten an answer to that question.

  Konrad said, in broken English, “We check for höhle, ja?”

  Max pursed his mouth. He’d been planning to search for caves in the area to see if he could find any clues about the time portals, but he hadn’t had the time. Last night he’d dreamt that Tobias was exploring inside a cave and got trapped by falling rocks.

  “Ja.” Max took the lead and headed toward Lotte’s cave. He wanted to get a closer look at it to see if maybe there was an opening he’d missed that might lead deeper into the underground. If not, he would try to follow the slightly hilly terrain and see if ‘his’ cave and ‘Lotte’s cave’ were part of a series of caves. There were sloping grass-covered mounds throughout the area, some with a sheer rock side, and then a flat grassy plain at the bottom. That’s where he figured they were likely to find caves.

  SOFIE STARED AT the son and daughter. Of course she’d seen photos of Lotte’s—Ingrid’s—son and these two teens looked like him. No question. She would have to find out more, but first they needed to make sure Herr Furst wasn’t having a heart attack. His coloring didn’t look good and perspiration was dripping down his face. “Maybe we should get your father to a chair. He looks as if he might faint.”

  The son helped his father into the parlor, with everyone else following.

  “Are you all right, Papa? Should we get the surgeon?”

  “I just had a surprise. I will be fine. Let me rest and talk with these people. Go on and do your chores.”

  “What’s going on?” Ryan mumbled.

  Sofie whispered, “I’ll tell you later. We may be on the right track, after all.”

  The son and daughter hesitated, obviously not wanting to leave their father’s side until they were sure he was all right. Sofie understood that. Of course they would take extra precautions considering they’d just lost their grandfather.

  Helmut’s color returned and he patted their hands and smiled reassuringly. “Go on now. I will be fine.”

  The daughter said, “Yell if you need us, Papa. We will be nearby.”

  Herr Furst watched them leave, then turned to face his visitors. “I have so many questions. How did you get here?”

  Wanting to be sure he was Ingrid’s son, Sofie asked, “Are you the son of Emil Furst, a professor from Gottingen?”

  He nodded. “This cannot be happening.”

  Pressing on, she asked, “How long have you been here?”

  He stared, daze-like at Sofie, and she wondered if he might not be fine after all. After a few moments he said, “I left home shortly before my eighteenth birthday, that’s the age of my twin children. I didn’t think I would ever see my family again.”

  “Did Vikktor send you here?”

  “Don’t speak to me of that man. He is dangerous.”

  Ingrid moved closer and said, “How did you get here, then?”

  Now he looked at her, really looked for the first time. Sudden recognition lit up his eyes. “It is you. You have changed much, but I can see the mother I knew in your eyes.”

  Ingrid burst into tears and covered her face.

  What was going on in Ingrid’s mind at being reunited with her son after more than thirty years? Sofie wondered. Max and his mother were reunited after twenty years and it had been an emotional experience for both of them, but neither had burst into tears. Sofie hadn’t put herself in their places, not really, probably because she hadn’t known either of them for very long. This was different. She’d known Ingrid her entire life. This was more personal. She felt tears well up in her own eyes, and she swiped at them.

  Helmut stood up and pulled his mother into his arms. “I am sorry I stormed out of the house that day and never returned or let you know I was all right.”

  “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. We were both in mourning. I should have eased up on you.”

  After a long hug, he pulled back and wiped his own eyes.

  Ingrid, taking in her surroundings, suddenly blurted out, “I have two grandchildren! Oh and such beautiful children they are, too. I can’t wait to get to know them.”

  Helmut’s eyes widened. “I had not thought of that. It will hard to explain to Peter and Johanna. I have told them that my family is gone. Now I have to tell them the whole shocking story, and it will not be easy. Please give me a day. We are getting ready to bury their grandfather—my wife’s father—and they need to get through that first.”

  “Finding out they have a grandmother might help them get through the grieving process,” Sofie said. “Not that I mean she will replace the grandfather that I’m sure they loved. I just mean that your mother might help fill a void in their lives. Let us know if we can help.”

  “Danke. You may be right. It could help. But I really do not know how to
tell them my fantastical story. They will probably think I have lost my mind.”

  Sofie said, “I understand your dilemma. We actually went through this a few months ago, shortly after we—well, you know—got here. My husband found his long-lost relatives, too, and we had to explain things to their families.”

  “We have much to talk about,” he said. “Where can I find you?”

  “We are staying at Gasthof Dinkelsbühl,” Sofie said. Glancing at Ryan, she saw a questioning look in his eyes, reminding her that they only had enough money to stay through tonight. “Uh, we will only be there tonight, though.” A part of her hoped he would invite them to stay with him and his family, yet a niggling thought occurred to her. What would the Feldgendarms think if they found out? Would they say they killed off Herr Stumpf so they could move in on the family?

  “I will be in touch with you tonight or tomorrow morning, then.” He stood up and began walking toward the front door.

  They followed him, and as they walked outside, a disturbing thought occurred to Sofie. Helmut knew his mother’s real name and if he told anyone, including his children, about her, that information could get back to the Feldgendarms. She turned around and said, “Uh, we should tell you that we’ve been questioned by the Feldgendarms. It seems that since we are outsiders, we are automatically considered suspects in Herr Stumpf’s murder. We didn’t know him and we had nothing to do with his death, I can assure you.”

  “I understand. I have my own suspects, but we do not know anything yet.”

  “Something else,” she added, biting one fingernail and hoping she could trust him. “Your mother is going by a different name. She can’t use her real name. It’s a very long story, but suffice it to say she wrote a letter confessing to murdering a woman a few months ago to save a friend who killed the woman to protect his grandson. She is not guilty.”

  He raised his eyebrows and then looked his mother in the eye, before looking back at Sofie. “I am glad you told me. Mother and I have had our differences and have quarreled plenty, but I know she is not capable of murder. Not unless she has changed drastically over these thirty-two years.”

  Sofie nodded. “Who do you think killed your father-in-law? Could it have been Vikktor? Did Herr Stumpf know Vikktor?”

  His jaw tightened. Apparently she’d struck a nerve. “We will talk more about this later,” he said. “I must attend to funeral arrangements right now.”

  “Of course. We look forward to talking again.”

  As Sofie, Ingrid, and Ryan walked back to the gasthof, Sofie told Ryan what had transpired.

  He said, “Do you trust the guy? What if he talks to the Feldgendarms and tells them who she really is?”

  “Why would he do that? She’s his mother?”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. You said he ran off and left his grieving mother before he turned eighteen. Why would he do that if he loved her so much? Doesn’t sound to me like they had the best relationship, you know what I mean.”

  “You and your father had difficulties, too, as I recall, but you still loved him and took care of him when he was injured.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t run away from home. I knew he would be devastated if I did. What does it say if Helmut ran off and didn’t care what it did to his mother? I’m just saying he might not be as happy to reunite, as she is.”

  Sofie glanced at Ingrid, who had apparently heard and understood much of the conversation, because she was biting her lip as she walked.

  “Why did your son run off all those years ago? Did you two have a big fight? Were there problems between you two?”

  “It was long ago. I barely remember.”

  “Don’t give me that excuse. You have a plenty good memory. Tell me.”

  “All right,” she said. “Give me a minute to catch my breath.” She sighed and stopped in the middle of the street. “I will tell you everything I know, but not here. We can talk back in our room at the gasthof, or better yet out in the woods where there’s no risk of anyone over-hearing, ja?”

  “Fine. We can walk outside the gate to the wooded area alongside the town wall.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  JUST OUTSIDE THE thicket that half-hid the entrance to Lotte’s—Ingrid’s—cave, Max and Konrad hobbled their horses to rest in a nearby grassy valley. They yelled for Tobias, but getting no response, started a small campfire and lit two torches from it. They carried the torches into the small cave and searched every inch top to bottom; no Tobias and no sign of opening to another chamber or tunnel. Damn. They left their horses to graze and walked through the valley on foot, following the low ridge, carrying their torches, and searching for any signs of other cave openings. The valley floor dipped in a couple places, but mostly remained fairly level, while the ridge varied considerably, sometimes rising much higher, as much as fifteen or twenty feet, and sometimes dropping to only half a dozen or so feet above the valley floor. After about twenty minutes of walking, they came upon another thicket of small trees and tall bushes, similar to the area outside of Lotte’s cave. Could all those leaves and branches be hiding another cave opening?

  Max stopped and leaned in to try to get a view of what lay behind the thicket, careful to hold his torch away from the plants so they wouldn’t catch fire. Nope, the brush was just too dense to see. He called out to Tobias, but again received no reply. He needed to get in deeper and pull back some of the branches to get a better look, see if there was another cave back there. “Can you hold this?” he asked, passing his torch to Konrad.

  He ventured into the thick bushes, pulling back masses of dead branches and dried leaves. Once inside the close quarters, he decided it was much worse than the bushes that hid and obstructed the view of Lotte’s cave. Wilder, thicker, taller. Was this natural or had someone been here before and created this barrier?

  Struggling to clear his way, Max endured numerous scrapes and cuts on his arms and a couple on his face, but by God he wasn’t giving up until he got through the tangles and to the backside where the hill started.

  Woohoo! There it was, finally, he thought, as he entered a narrow clearing just next to the ridge’s rock and dirt wall. Rough and uneven to the touch. He stood in the narrow dirt-covered clearing and tilted his neck back to view the top of the ridge. Sunlight, what little there was today in the heavy gray-clouded sky, daggered in through narrow spaces above the rocky wall and the undergrowth. He estimated the top to be about eleven feet up, which would make it about three feet higher than near Lotte’s cave.

  It was still hard to see in this tight clearing, almost cave-like, with the thicket of plants blocking most of the light on one side of him and the rock wall blocking most of the light on the other side. If it was like the other two caves, Lotte’s and the one he had emerged from into this century, there would be an opening in the rock near the ground. Problem was, it was too dark to see much detail. He needed his torch back here, but that was not possible. And, if there was a cave, he still wouldn’t be able to explore it without some light, even if he could find an entrance.

  To his right were huge boulders, stacked up against the wall. They likely prevented further access from that direction. The narrow area to his left, against the ridge wall looked possibly accessible. He forced his way over to where there was even less light, almost like the trail went into a tunnel. Or a cave!

  His heart raced. Perhaps if there was a cave, he and Konrad could get the torches in from further up the ridge without setting everything on fire.

  Well, only one way to find out.

  Carefully, he inched his way further along the space between the wall and the plants mostly by feel, often scraping into one or the other. He was really in the dark now. He looked up. Whether someone had cut branches and draped them over the top—from the bushes to the top of the rock wall—or whether this was natural occurring arbor, he couldn’t tell, but it was like nighttime in here. As he took another couple of steps forward, the undergrowth seemed to retreat back a few feet, giving him more roo
m to maneuver. A sudden rush of cold air on his legs brought him to a standstill. He turned toward the rock wall and stooped down.

  “Oh my God! There is a cave. Yes!”

  He peeked inside, feeling cool air, but couldn’t see a damned thing.

  Gotta get those torches in here somehow, he thought. He continued to move beyond the cave, hoping to find another way out. Fortunately, the darkness began to abate and the undergrowth gave way to more open ground. Stepping away from the ridge, he could see Konrad waiting in the distance.

  Max shouted his name and waved his arms to get his attention, and Konrad rushed toward him.

  SOFIE SAT ON the grass next to Ingrid and waited for her to tell her why Ingrid’s son had run off all those years ago. Why was Ingrid taking so long? Was she trying to think up some fake story to tell them like she’d done on other occasions? How was she supposed to ever trust the woman again?

  Ryan gave Sofie a look that told her he didn’t trust Ingrid, either. Not that it was news. He’d never been a fan of hers, even before Birgitta was murdered and Ingrid left them to time travel back home.

  Figuring that Ingrid needed prompting, Sofie said, “Please tell us what happened when Helmut left home. What was going on that made him want to leave?”

  Ingrid sighed. “I haven’t told anyone before. It was such a long time ago, and I’ve tried to forget it all.” She was speaking in English, surprisingly good English, with a heavy German accent. “Karl told you that Vikktor was stuck here in the past for thirty years, from 1949, and that when he finally got home, he brought you, Sofie, with him. You were only four months old then.”