Chapter 6

Tempelhof Airport - Berlin

Monika Sterne sipped a coffee as she scanned the front page of Der Spiegel. It had been much easier than she'd expected. The setup was perfect and the American had been easy to manipulate. Then he'd become - what did the Americans call it? Clingy. Yes, that was it. Wanting too much of her time and attention, not to mention her body.

But Gerhard would have taken care of that loose end by now. In fact, his flight from Zurich should be arriving at any moment. Then they would escape the dreary cold of winter and head to a more hospitable climate. Maybe the south of France or Santorini or even California. She'd been to the states many times. They could easily blend in. Many Americans were essentially rootless and moved around a lot.

She finished her coffee and picked up her oversized black leather handbag. Sewn into the lining were new passports in the names of Gary and Monika Franklin. It would be an adjustment. But had she not been doing that since she was fifteen?

**
"You need answers?" asked Natalie. "What about me? I'm the one whose husband is missing. I'm the one being harrassed and threatened at gunpoint!" Her hands were planted on her hips, a frown marring her perfect face. Her vee-necked pink tee shirt pulled taut across her breasts. Paolo's attention slipped for a moment before he remembered his duty.

"You're telling me you don't know what this stuff is?" He gestured to the contents of the storage unit.

"No clue." Natalie proceeded to tell him about Randall showing up with the key that morning. His face gave nothing away as he listened.

"Did Randall give you that gun?"

"No."

They stared at each other for a beat. "I'm waiting," said Paolo.

Natalie pursed her lips and sighed. "Okay. Mr. Trendel gave it to me."

"Trendel. Your neighbor who moved to Tampa."

"Right. On moving day he walked over and just gave it to me. Said his daughter wouldn't let him have it around the grandkids. That I could use it for protection when Jeff was traveling. I don't know where he got it or if it was registered or anything." Now that she'd started, Natalie seemed unable to stop.

"One time he told me he'd had some trouble with the law in his younger days. I never asked him about it. He always seemed like a nice old man, working in his rose garden. You know, he won prizes for those roses."

Paolo stared at her in amazement. "Dammit, Natalie. Did you ever think it might be stolen? Or maybe it's tied to some unsolved crime?"

"No, I didn't think much about it. I just threw it in the trunk and, well, kinda forgot about it."

"What if you'd been in a wreck and the cops found that? Can you imagine the kind of trouble you'd be in?"

"I wasn't thinking," said Natalie, folding her arms over her chest.

"No shit." Paolo thought of his buddy, Ernesto, a Miami-Dade homicide detective. Maybe he'd ask him to do some discreet snooping about Trendel and his gun. He glared at Natalie. He wanted to believe that she was an innocent in all this. A protective urge surged through him. In the past, he was always able to separate his personal feelings from the job. Now he had a strange sensation that the lines were about to become blurred.

"What's happened to you, Natalie? You used to be a nice girl in high school."

"I'm still a nice girl!" she insisted, voice rising. "Maybe I just made some bad choices." Maybe not only the gun, but Jeff, too, she thought.

"Your home has a security system. You should be fine with that."

"It didn't stop your people from getting in," she sneered.

"That's our job."

"Nevertheless, I think I would feel safer with a gun."

"Do you even know how to handle one?" Paolo asked.

Natalie curled her fingers and pointed her right index finger. "Point and shoot. Like my camera. How hard could it be?" she smiled.

Paolo blew out a frustrated breath. Then his cell phone rang. Caller ID showed it was Marco from headquarters. He stepped away and turned his back to Natalie as he answered. "Yeah?"

"Miami-Dade discovered the torched body of a man in the trunk of a rental car at the airport less than an hour ago. From the general description, it could be Jernigan. I'm headed there now."

"Okay. As soon as CSI shows up, I'll head out," said Paolo. He ended the call and snapped the phone shut. He made sure his "FBI mask" as his family called his blank look was firmly in place before he turned to face Natalie. Fortunately, the CSI van pulled up at that moment and two agents jumped out and began getting equipment out of the rear of the van.

"After you talk to these guys, I want you to go straight home and stay there."

"What's wrong? Was that call about Jeff? Did you find him?"

"There's been a development. I don't have any details yet. Maybe it's nothing."

"But . .

"But nothing." Paolo gripped her shoulders. "Do as I say. I'll be in touch later."

Paolo stalked away, got in his car and headed toward the airport. If the body was Jernigan, someone was trying to send a message. Natalie could be in danger. Keeping her safe was now as important as solving the case.

While stopped for a red light, Paolo flipped throught the directory of his cell phone. When he found the number he was searching for, he paused. This might come back to haunt him, but it seemed like the right thing to do. He punched in the number and waited throught six rings. Finally, a man with a voice like gravel answered.

"Hey, Louie. It's Paolo. I need to buy a gun."