Tanglewood Grotto (The Bavarian Woods Book 2)

by Susan Finlay

  She shook her head, wondering if Ingrid had noticed Ryan’s attentions. What would Ingrid say if Ryan and her granddaughter became romantically involved? Would she react the way Birgitta had and try to squelch the relationship? Sofie hadn’t had a chance, except for a few minutes of whispering, to talk with Ingrid in private since they arrived at Werner’s house.

  Still, even assuming she and Ryan had their attentions elsewhere, it seemed a bit odd to Sofie that neither Max nor Konrad had spotted them and called out. The route from Möbius to Riesen was a fairly straight trail; unless they had reached Riesen ahead of Sofie and Ryan leaving town. Sofie shrugged and decided the mystery would be solved in time.

  RYAN GLANCED OVER at Sofie as they rode toward Riesen. Her face still looked pale, which worried him. She’d had several shocks over the past day and a half—discovering she may be the adopted granddaughter of a man she’d thought was dead, returning home and finding her husband’s ex-wife and daughter had time traveled, and then hearing that both her son and her husband were missing. Her fainting spell, while understandable, was not a good sign and probably meant it wasn’t safe for her to ride a horse. What if she fainted again and fell off the horse? Dad wouldn’t want her risking herself or her unborn baby, but what could he do about it? They thought he didn’t know about the pregnancy. Yeah, right. As if they could really keep that a secret when they lived together in a tiny cabin. He was pretty sure Tobias knew, too, and that the kid wasn’t happy about it. He was supposed to be the baby in the family. And of course this new baby was Max’s and Sofie’s together. That would make it special. Yep, Ryan wouldn’t be surprised if Tobias had run away to get their attention. He could be hiding right near their village.

  Sofie was a good mother, and seemed like a good wife from what Ryan could tell, except that sometimes she was too damned stubborn for her own good. Ryan shook his head. She barely listened to when her husband gave her advice; she certainly wouldn’t give much credence to advice from an eighteen year old, that’s for damn sure. Yet he expected his dad would read him the riot act if anything bad happened to her while with him. It was a no win situation.

  Turning his attention back to the search for his father, he said, “Hey, Sofie, if Dad went to Riesen to look for Tobias, he would have gone to Gramps’s house for help, right?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “But if he made it there, why did the horses come back without him and Konrad? That must mean that they never made it to his house.” He stared straight ahead.

  “Are you thinking someone may have attacked them? I’ve heard rumors about robbers in the area.”

  “I dunno. Possible, I guess, but that doesn’t make sense, either. I mean, wouldn’t someone attacking them have taken their horses? Why else would someone attack them? It’s not like they had a lot of money or anything else to steal?”

  “That’s a good point.” Sofie looked pensive for a moment, then added. “Unless it was Vikktor. What if Vikktor kidnapped Tobias? If Max and Konrad got close to finding him . . . .”

  Ryan turned his head and looked at Sofie, feeling a knot in his stomach. “Oh, man! You think that old man could have ambushed my dad and Konrad? That’s definitely possible, from what I know of the old man. If the horses bolted, they would have just wandered back home.”

  “Hmm. Yes, that could explain their disappearance, but I hope we’re wrong.”

  “Me too. I guess we should go to Karl’s house and see if they’ve been there. If they haven’t, we’ll have to check with . . . hell, I don’t know who to check with. Feldgendarms? Maybe Werner can help us figure out what to do.”

  As they neared the town wall, Ryan said, “Why would Vikktor want to kidnap Tobias?”

  Sofie didn’t say anything immediately. “I don’t really know. If he has a problem with Lotte, what do Tobias and I have to do with that? And something else that bothers me is that he told Karl he didn’t send Lotte back to the future, because she could get him into trouble with the law there, but that doesn’t really make sense to me. Not when I really think about it.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, first of all, she couldn’t prove anything. Second, up until now she supposedly didn’t know what he was doing. Third, the police would think she was crazy and they would ignore her ranting.” She stopped, obviously in thought. “Oh, and fourth, why not just bribe her with something that she wanted—like taking her to see her son and her oldest brother?”

  “You’re right. What the hell is going on here?”

  They rode into Riesen in silence. At the clock shop, they knocked and knocked, but no one answered. Sofie checked the adjacent shops and was told that Karl and his granddaughter had gone to visit her parents.

  “Wait,” the middle-aged woman next door said as Sofie was walking away. “I almost forgot. Two men came here earlier today, looking for Karl and for a little boy.”

  “Do you know where they went?”

  “Sorry.” The woman shook her head.

  “How long ago were they here?”

  “Right after the big storm.”

  That was hours ago, Sofie thought. That explained why they hadn’t crossed paths. She had stayed indoors talking with Werner and Helmut while the storm was creating havoc. They’d waited close to an hour before they’d ventured outside and then they’d spent another hour riding from Riesen and back again, not to mention the time spent in Möbius talking with Jenny and Lisa and Ulla.

  “Where do we go now?” Ryan asked as they remounted the horses and left Karl’s street.

  “I guess we’ll see what Helmut and Werner know. Maybe they can help us.”

  TOBIAS SCREAMED AT the sound of something scraping across the floor and pulled his legs up from where they’d been dangling over the side of the crates, wrapping his arms around his knees. Tears dripped onto his cheeks as he listened for more scrapes. What was down there? He’d felt a furry animal earlier, and was pretty sure that one was a rat.

  He remembered his mother and Max talking about the cellars in Riesen when they’d first arrived in the past. They’d both checked out cellars, looking for a place to hide out. The first two they’d checked had been filled with people of various ages, living in poverty amongst pigs, goats, and other farm animals. Max had commented that those cellars had stunk even worse than the streets, because of the animal and human dung and urine and unwashed bodies in the confined space. They’d continued searching for a place to sleep, and eventually found a cellar that was used to store merchandise of some sort. They didn’t stay long enough to find out what, because in the morning, men came to cart away some of the crates and barrels.

  It was light outside, Tobias could tell. If only he could reach the window and look outside. Maybe he would be able to recognize where he was. Was he in Riesen or in some other town? It had to be a town, he was pretty sure. Or maybe not. Some country houses had cellars, too. More likely a city house, though.

  No more scratching. That was good. He squinted his eyes and looked around the dim room, but it was still too dim to make anything out. Why hadn’t anyone come down here, though, to bring him food or water or to torture him or whatever they planned to do with him?

  He hugged his knees tighter, wondering yet again why someone would take him. What did he do to deserve this? Back in the future he would have used his mobile phone hours ago to call for help, when he first regained consciousness. That is, if the kidnapper didn’t get the phone. Maybe those phones gave kids a false sense of security, he thought. Maybe he wouldn’t really be in any better position if this had happened in the future.

  Feeling so scared and helpless, his tears began anew. “Please come and get me, Max. I won’t run off again. I promise.”

  When his tears ran dry, he strained to hear anything coming from overhead or from outside. Someone must be around here. Whoever it was who knocked him out must be here. Maybe servants, too. The big country houses—or manor homes, as they were called in this time period—would have lots of servants. Mayb
e one will come down here to get something or set me free.

  The crates he’d found here were empty, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any filled ones somewhere else down here. He’d mostly stayed near the window, because it was pitch black everywhere else and really scary. If he’d had a way to make a fire, he would make a torch and then go hunting through the cellar or whatever this place was. He nodded to himself. I’m a brave kid. I would do it if I had more light.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  INGRID STOOD IN the background listening to Sofie, her voice strained and shrill at times, telling Werner and Helmut about her missing son and husband and her theory about what might have happened to them. Helmut was shaking his head and pacing across the parlor floor, acting as if he wanted to rush out and strangle Vikktor. Werner was the only one who seemed calm. And why is that, she wondered. Does he know more than he’s telling?

  Something that had been bothering Ingrid ever since they’d arrived at his house was, how did Werner happen to be living in Sofie’s house—or more accurately Vikktor’s old house? Seemed very strange. And where were the original owners of the house? She and Sofie had figured maybe the original owners were Sofie’s ancestors because, according to Vikktor, the house had been in the family ever since it was built. Of course Werner was family, but according to Werner, he and Vikktor had become enemies thirty years ago—and, again, according to Werner—that was when Werner was living far away from here.

  “Where would Vikktor have taken them?” Helmut turned and asked Werner. “Does he have a house? Does he have a place where he operates his business?”

  “How should I know this?” Werner asked. “I have not seen him or heard from him in thiry years.”

  Sofie’s eyebrows narrowed. “You gave up looking for me almost immediately? You didn’t know where he would have gone with a baby? No ideas at all?”

  So Sofie had suspicions about him, too.

  “I searched, of course. But Vikktor is difficult to catch. He never stays in one place very long.”

  “How do you know that?” Helmut asked, joining in. “If you have not had contact with him in all those years, how do you know that?”

  Werner sighed out loud. “I have searched for my brother, that’s how I know. I have asked people who know him. Including Karl Kimmel. If you want to know where Vikktor is, ask Karl.”

  “We tried,” Sofie said. “He sent us to Dinkelsbühl. Now he’s gone to visit his wife’s son and daughter-in-law. And that’s another thing—why would he leave on that kind of trip while his great-grandson is missing? They told us at our village that Max and Konrad had gone to Karl’s house right after they discovered Tobias was missing, so we know Karl knew about it.”

  “Again, how should I know this? I live in the same town as Karl, but I am not his keeper.”

  Sofie sighed out loud, and Ingrid wanted to go to her and wrap her arms around her the way she always did when Sofie was upset or worried—well, before Sofie pushed her out of her life. Ingrid wasn’t sure how Sofie would react to her efforts to comfort her now. Ingrid chewed on her bottom lip.

  Helmut stopped pacing. “Sofie, what if your son tried to follow you to Dinkelsbühl or if someone took him there and then your husband figured that out or got a tip and went there, too? If Vikktor did kill Johan, as I suspect, then he might have snatched your son there.”

  “You think we should go back to Dinkelsbühl?” Sofie asked.

  Helmut nodded.

  She looked at Werner. He only shrugged, so she asked, “Will you come with us, or am I of no interest to you anymore?”

  He looked taken aback. “Bu—but—I didn’t say I would not help you. I will come, but I have to take care of a couple personal matters first. Give me an hour.”

  Sofie agreed. As Werner took off through a doorway, closing the door behind him, she turned to Ryan and asked him to ride to Möbius and let Stefan, Wilhelm, and the others know where they were going. Ryan took off immediately.

  Ingrid didn’t know where Werner was going or what his personal business was, but she felt more than ever as though she didn’t know Werner at all. Are all the Sonnenberg men secretive, she wondered?

  “Helmut, are you going to take your son and daughter back home?” Ingrid asked.

  “No, I think it is safer for them here right now and it will give them a chance to visit with family. You should stay here, too, and get to know your grandchildren.”

  “You don’t want me to go with you on the search?”

  “Nein. I worry about you and the twins. I would feel better if all three of you stay here. Besides, we will travel faster than you would like,” he said. “Time is precious when searching for a lost child.” He glanced toward the closed door as he said the last part.

  Was that a comment on what he thought of Werner for not searching harder for the kidnapped baby?

  Ingrid, Sofie, and Helmut talked for a while about his children, their mother, and his father-in-law. An hour and a half later, Werner came back and announced that he was ready to go to Dinkelsbühl.

  Sofie found Ryan, who had returned from taking care of their horses, and asked if he wanted to come with them. He nodded, then said goodbye to Johanna and Peter.

  Ingrid watched as Sofie, Helmut, Ryan, and Werner rode down the street. She said a silent prayer that they would find Tobias and Max. Walking into the road, watching the group disappear around a curve in the trail, she tried to remember what Werner had said about his arrival in the past, but her brain seemed immersed in a thick fog. It worried her, as this condition was occurring with increasing frequency the last couple of years.

  Ah, now she remembered. It was about Karl’s father, Mathias Kimmel. Werner said Mathias had started using the family’s time portal during the first war. Well, at least that’s when he’d disappeared—or supposedly been killed in battle, or whatever reason his family had been given for his disappearance. Mathias’s mother supposedly told him everything about the portal. He’d known about the portal since he was a teen. For all anyone knew, this could have been going on for generations. Yet Mathias never told his own son, Karl, about it? That was unlikely. But it was possible, she supposed, but his family still might have written information about the portal somewhere in that old house. Just because Werner didn’t think there was anything written, that didn’t make it so. For that matter, she didn’t trust Werner to tell them the truth any more than she trusted Vikktor or Karl. She spat on the cobbled street, then turned and walked back into the house. They are all weasels. The lot of them. She shook her head as she opened the door and walked into the house.

  Where was everyone? She peeked in the kitchen. No one. She shrugged and wobbled up the stairs. Oh well, didn’t feel like talking to anyone, anyway.

  She laid down on her makeshift bed and closed her eyes. Thinking about Helmut and their various conversations back in Dinkelsbühl, she wanted to kick herself, realizing he had never answered the question about how he had ended up in the past. Why hadn’t she asked him again? She rolled over and promised herself that would be the first question she would ask the next time she saw him. May as well sleep now. Nothing else to do. Before she could fall asleep, she had a feeling that someone was nearby and opened her eyes.

  Johanna was stooped over and looking down at her. “Sorry, Oma. Are you all right?”

  Ingrid nodded.

  “Would you like to talk for a while, or would you rather nap?” Johanna asked.

  Ingrid raised up to a sitting position and patted the floor beside her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  JENNY HOLLANDER WATCHED the young women working on dinner preparations. She’d tried to offer her help, using a mixture of hand gestures and her meager German skills to get her offer across to them. It seemed they’d understood, but only motioned for her to sit and watch. Maybe they thought she needed training, as if she didn’t have decades more cooking experience than these kids. Most of them didn’t look much older than her own kids. Oh well, their loss. Sure, she didn�
�t know how to cook with some of their ancient-looking tools and odd-looking ingredients, but she could no doubt figure it out.

  Magda, Brita, Karin, Ulla, and Eva—she’d been introduced to them earlier and made an effort to remember their names, but wasn’t quite sure who was who, except for Magda. They were all working in the communal kitchen and jabbering away in German so fast it made her head spin. She’d taken some German classes in high school and college, but she could only catch snippets here and there. It felt as if they were tossing balls back and forth high up over her head and she could only touch a few of them. She felt frustrated and helpless. Sometimes, when they grew quiet, she would intercept glances coming her way, and then the jabbering would start again, no doubt they were discussing her and what a problem she was going to be for Max and his new wife.

  She hadn’t been sure of her feelings for Max when she’d embarked on the trip to Germany. They were mixed feelings, for sure. Sometimes, during the long flight, she would remember the good times they’d had, when the twins were first starting school, and they’d all lived in a small house furnished as cheaply as possible, because back in those days their income was meager. She and Max had talked at length about their future, dreaming he would one day design and build their dream home. Only he’d never gotten ‘round to it. He was too busy with his job—his career, he’d called it—and couldn’t spare the time. That was the way with Max. She’d had a career, too, but she had kept a vigilant separation between her work life and her family life. She hadn’t missed out on their kids’ growing up the way he had. That’s part of the reason she’d ultimately given up on their marriage. Sure, Max’s income had gone up a lot because of his devotion to his career. Eighteen years in, he made twice as much money as she did, and he liked to throw that at her whenever they got into arguments, especially near the end of their marriage. Yes, they’d bought a bigger and more prestigious house, but it wasn’t their dream home. It wasn’t designed and built by Max, as he had promised her.