Where the Bones are Buried by Jeanne Matthews

of Reiner Hess.”
    â€œNot…” she stumbled. “Not Hess?”
    â€œHis name is Alwin Pohl, the newest member of the club. I need you to tell me if he is the same person who called on you earlier today.”
    Her thoughts scattered. Why would anyone impersonate a wanted man? Did Hess send this Alwin Pohl to meet her mother? Did he fail to obtain the thumb drive and Hess killed him? Or did he make the deal with Swan, and Hess killed him to make sure he left no witnesses? She wilted onto the sofa beside K.D. “Sergeant Wegener said that the only member of the club who didn’t attend the powwow was the dead man. Does that mean that Hess was there?”
    â€œIt means that six months ago, Hess was drummed out of the club. If you’ll forgive the pun. Your mother didn’t recognize the name Pohl, but she may recognize him when she sees him. Again, do not go out again tonight. I have borrowed the ladies’ phones to run a check on the numbers called and messages left. If there is nothing relevant to my investigation, I will return them tomorrow.”
    â€œBut I need, I want, to speak with my mother tonight.”
    â€œIt will be best to wait. I’ll pick you up in the morning at eleven.”
    â€œAre you ordering me not to communicate with my mother?”
    He expelled an audible breath, like a tire going flat. “Because you are Inspector Ramberg’s friend, and because he is a trusted liaison to the Berlin police, I have accommodated your concerns. But there are rules and I must ask you to abide by them.”
    He ended the call, leaving Dinah in a quandary. If the dead man wasn’t Hess, or a henchman of Hess, then Swan and Margaret were in the clear as far as the murder investigation. As for the rest, they needed to get their stories straight before tomorrow or Lohendorf could arrest them all on a charge of obstruction. She said, “We may as well be back to the stone age and sending smoke signals.”
    K.D.’s eyes glinted in a devilish way that put Dinah in mind of Cleon. She said, “Nobody knows I’m here, if you need somebody to deliver messages behind enemy lines.”

Chapter Twelve
    Dinah’s phone was almost out of juice. She plugged it into the outlet above the kitchen table to recharge and helped herself to the last two inches of red wine to steady her nerves. Just as she inserted the cord, the phone began plinking. Thor’s name appeared on the display.
    â€œHi.”
    â€œHi, kjære . Sorry for calling so late. I’ve been in ’round-the-clock meetings. Maybe you’ve seen the news. A Norwegian citizen was involved in that terrorist attack on the shopping mall in Kenya.”
    â€œNo. I hadn’t heard.”
    â€œIt’s been crazy here and I don’t know when I’ll be able to break away and get home. Did you call Jens Lohendorf?”
    â€œJust as promised. I understand you beat me to the punch.”
    â€œI hope you’re not angry. I wanted to make sure you stayed safe.”
    â€œListen, Thor, I need to…”
    â€œDinah, we haven’t used the word love, but you must know how I feel. Do you?”
    â€œI think so.”
    â€œWell, let me remove any doubt. I love you. We haven’t been together long, and there’s still unmapped territory, things we haven’t told each other. Important things. It’s easy to let the time slide and wait for the right moment, but we need to talk. We need to know that we can trust each other.”
    â€œI understand.”
    â€œI hope you do. Sometimes you’re so impulsive. You make snap decisions and don’t think how they can sabotage our whole future.”
    â€œI said I understand, Thor. I don’t want there to be secrets between us.” Whatever he knew or suspected, he seemed to be issuing an ultimatum. She drank half the wine and nerved herself. This was where her rubbery conscience met the Get-Real Road.