Read Online Conspiracy of Blood and Smoke by Anne Blankman - Free Book Online Page B

Inside was Mama’s bedroom, where Mama had showed her how to hem skirts, the two of them laughing together at Gretchen’s uneven first attempt. Her own bedroom on the third floor, where she’d found her cat lying on her pillow, its neck broken. And Reinhard’s room on the floor below, where she’d accused him of killing Striped Peterl to get back at her. Where Reinhard had punched her in the face and thrown her to the floor, and when she’d begged him to stop, she had barely been able to speak around the blood pooling in her mouth.
    Trapped air burned in her chest. She hated herself for thinking of her brother again, for letting the memories overwhelm her, just as Alfred had warned. Reinhard is dead , she reminded herself. She’d seen his SA commander kill him on Hitler’s orders because, thanks to her investigation into Papa’s death, the Müller family had become an inconvenience. Nothing could bring Reinhard back. He couldn’t hurt her anymore.
    That was a lie. He could still hurt her, and she knew it. Every time she thought of him, the familiar, old panic clawed its way up her throat until she was gasping. With a massive effort, she turned away from the boardinghouse, her eyes stinging. Keep going , she ordered herself. Do this for Daniel . His name forced her legs to move, slowly at first, then faster.
    Inside the massive park, the snow-whitened fields were turning blue in the deepening dusk. Gretchen hurried along the curving paths, the back of her neck prickling. At the supper hour, the walkways were crowded with men on their way to their rented rooms or to a beer hall for a cheap meal. She didn’t hear the tweet of police whistles or the rumble of wagons from thestreet; perhaps the arrests were over, at least for the day.
    Ahead stood a thicket of chestnut trees. Between their trunks, Gretchen saw the sun tipping over the horizon, a blazing ball sinking into black. In the final seconds of daylight, she made out a figure standing within the ring of trees: slender, dressed in a three-quarter-length coat, a cloud of dark blond hair peeking out from under a fashionable porkpie hat. Eva. She had come, just as she had promised. Love for her old friend surged through Gretchen. After everything that had shoved them apart, she had still been able to count on Eva.
    There was no one else near the trees; no brown blur of SA uniforms under the leafless branches. Still Gretchen hesitated. For Daniel , she told herself and moved off the path, ducking under the low-hanging branches to reach the center of the clearing. Snow crunched under her feet, and Eva whirled at the sound, her eyes wide. Then she smiled and ran forward, flinging her arms around Gretchen. Through the heavy layers of their coats, Gretchen could feel the bones in Eva’s back.
    “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again!” Eva pulled away, tears glittering in her eyes. Sobs rose in Gretchen’s chest, and she gripped her friend’s hands. She couldn’t stop staring at her. In the chiseled angles of her face, there was nothing left of the plump girl she had been. “Nobody seemed to know what had happened to you—some people said you must be dead, and Adolf said we weren’t allowed to mention your name again.”
    Gretchen froze. “Adolf? You call him Adolf?”
    “Of course.” Eva smiled. Tears had cut tracks through the powder on her cheeks, showing the pale skin beneath. “What else would I call my beau?”
    Gretchen’s fingers slid from Eva’s. Hitler hadn’t thrown Eva over. They were still dating. She backed away, reaching across her body with her free hand to touch the side of her suitcase, feeling for the bulge of the revolver. Her gaze swept the bare trees. In the dusk, they looked like black skeletons, and on the pathway behind them, a couple of dark shapes ambled along. She recognized the shape of the men’s heads; they wore knitted woolen hats, not peaked SA caps. She was still safe, for the moment. But Hitler’s men might be