Winter Passing by Cindy Martinusen Coloma

clerk and the older man look his way. The man spoke to the policeman and the three of them walked toward him, leaving the young woman and maid behind.
    “Is there a problem?” Brant said as they approached.
    “You asked to see Fräulein Evans?”
    “Yes. That must be her.”
    The young woman, obviously Darby Evans, came up behind them.
    “It seems she’s had some trouble today.”
    “Could you please speak English? Is this the man?” Darby asked the officer.
    “I’m Brant Collins. You know, the guy you had an appointment with this morning.”
    She looked surprised. “I didn’t forget. Someone broke into my room.”
    “That is not exactly certain,” the man in the suit said quickly. Brant knew he must be the manager of the hotel.
    “I think it’s pretty certain. After I came down to breakfast, I returned to my room for a moment and found my door open. This woman said a man asked her to open the door—he’d lost his key. At least, that’s what I think. He told her he was my husband, or he acted like my husband. I’m still unsure what she said about that either.”
    The hotel manager motioned for the maid and pointed to Brant. “Is this the man who was in the room?” he asked in German.
    “What?” Brant said.
    “ Nein, nein .”
    “Okay. You may go back to your work,” the manager said to the maid.
    “ Danke, danke .”
    “Yes, danke ,” Brant said and glared at Darby. “I get stood up for a business appointment and suddenly am a suspect in some woman’s break-in.”
    “I apologize but must check all options,” the manager said. “This does not happen at Salzburg Cozy Hotel.”
    “Well, it did,” Darby said. “And where is that woman going? You aren’t going to do anything?”
    “Fräulein.” The policeman spoke in slow, broken English. “Nothing missing from your room. We keep contact with you and hotel and see what happen.”
    Within a minute, the hotel manager said a quick apology and hurried to the front desk, where concerned patrons watched and questioned the desk clerk. The officer also left after giving Darby Evans a business card, an apology for her difficulties, and a promise to find out what had happened. She stared at the card after he left. A long strand of hair fell across her cheek. Darby pushed it behind her ear and looked up at Brant just as he wondered why he was still there.
    “This wasn’t exactly the meeting I had in mind,” Darby said. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”
    Brant didn’t like this either. He’d been prepared to find out what this woman wanted and who she really was. The woman in front of him was nothing like he had expected. Her soft brown eyes with the dark circles beneath them appeared tired from deep within. She bit the side of her thumbnail, then seemed to realize it and dropped her hands to her side. The woman took a breath and attempted a brave look, but she appeared near tears—God forbid that. How could he be shrewd and hard against her?
    Brant had to look away from her eyes. “Why don’t you call my office tomorrow and we’ll reschedule?”
    “Sure.”
    “Fine.” He began to walk away, then turned back. Her gaze hadn’t moved. Was she wondering what to do? Or was this all a ploy to get information from him? Brant hated that he was so suspicious, but lately it seemed he had to watch every strange occurrence. And Darby Evans was one of them. But the maid did say she had seen someone in the woman’s room. “So what are you going to do now?”
    She shook her head slightly. “I’m not sure.”
    “Perhaps you should go lie down or something.” He knew as soon as he spoke that his words sounded uncaring, even condescending—more so than he had intended.
    “Thanks. That should make everything better.”
    “What do you want me to say?”
    “Nothing. This has nothing to do with you. I apologize for missing our appointment. I’ll call your secretary tomorrow. I don’t need or expect anything else, is that what you want me to