Page 30 of A Song in the Dark

chapter Eleven

So that was the secret he’d been keeping from them.

Rick was a spy for the British.

While in one sense it made Chaisley feel better to have him with her—especially after all the encounters she’d had with Nazi soldiers—on the other hand, the thought made her shiver.

She’d never known a spy before. Was there more he was hiding? With everything in her, she wanted to be able to trust this man. “Why didn’t you tell us?” The question was silly, but she needed to hear his voice as he answered.

“I’m not authorized to. I’m not even supposed to tell you now, but I think it’s the only safe way we can work together and accomplish our goals. I believe we are on the same team, and I trust you both. I can help protect you, and you can help protect my cover.”

He was sincere. Gone was any perception that he kept something to himself. In fact, there were notes of relief in his tone. Like it was good to tell someone. To have someone to confide in.

“What goals do you believe we share?” It was important to push now and find out what he really thought. While she hated to put everything in jeopardy, she had to know without a shadow of a doubt that she could trust this man with her life. With Melanie’s life.

The squeak and moan of leather gave her the picture that he was shifting in his chair. Perhaps leaning over his knees.

She leaned forward to show her full attention.

He released a sharp breath. “Goals? To stop Hitler. To keep another war from happening. To save people he wants to eliminate. I can’t believe the filth and garbage that are part of the Nazis’ propaganda and what they say about the Jews and others.

It has gotten bolder and more insulting the past couple years. ”

“Where were you before Amsterdam?” Melanie zeroed in on a great question.

“Inside Germany. It was getting hard to be there and hear the constant propaganda each day. Our best informant was arrested the day I left.” The sigh he released was almost a groan.

“The Gestapo have been at full force the past few months. Rounding up what they call political prisoners and sending them to work camps. In all truth, they are also rounding up those they believe are informants and Jews who were outspoken or had any power whatsoever. A good friend of mine was taken several weeks before I met you. A Jew. A good man.”

The slight crack in his voice was telling. He must be comfortable with them because there was far too much emotion for a man trained as a spy to portray.

“Is your friend all right?” Chaisley’s heart went out to the man.

“I ... I don’t know. That’s the difficult part.

These work camps are terrible. I searched for him, but things escalated and I had to leave.

There has been so much hate and prejudice stirred up that it feels like people have been brainwashed.

No other country wants another war ...

except Hitler. He wants to rule the world and focus on his Aryan master race.

Which means that eventually all people of a different race or color will be subject to whatever he has planned.

And I think it’s much worse than work camps.

Although, how much do we really know about what is happening there? ”

The air in the room seemed to get heavier the longer they talked. And the new melody running through her mind haunted her. Shaded her every waking moment, mingling with her grief. “Why were you assigned to drive for me?”

His hesitation troubled her.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t excited about the job. I didn’t understand why they thought it would be good to take me out of Berlin to drive a pianist around. But then I realized that you would have access to people the SIS were interested in.”

“Is that so?” Was that all she was to him? A way to get close to people he could spy on? It hurt. More than she cared to acknowledge.

“But don’t you see? This has helped all of us. I can help you .” He pleaded—a tone she hadn’t heard from him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Zimmerman. I don’t see .

Frankly, I’m disturbed that you didn’t tell us this right away.

Especially after I was honest with you about everything from the very beginning.

” She didn’t like the way her stomach tied up in knots.

Nor the way she was reacting. But she couldn’t stop the words from rushing out. “Was all of this fake to you? Pretend?”

“Wait a minute.” Had he come to his feet?

“No, this wasn’t fake.” His voice was above her now.

“I’ve come to care for you and Melanie both.

I thought we were all friends. All working together.

All believers.” Now his tone held a bitter tinge as it weighed down on her.

“And you haven’t been completely honest with me from the beginning.

There have been plenty of conversations full of secrets which you have kept from me. ”

The words hit her like an arrow. They had done that. She had doubted him plenty of times. Shared only what she thought he needed to know. Yes, he had a right to throw it back at her.

But why did it have to hurt so much? Her emotions were worse than a pendulum out of control. “I think you need to leave now.” She rubbed her forehead.

“Chaisley ... I’m sorry.” The words were cracked.

Like their friendship.

“Please. Go.”

Berlin, Germany—Tuesday, June 7, 1938

He woke up from the nightmare covered in sweat.

It was her! Up on that stage.

How long had it been since he’d seen her?

Fifteen ... twenty years?

Sitting up on the edge of his bed, he mopped his face and neck with his shirt. He should have known she seemed too familiar.

Now, the question was ... what was he going to do about it?

A lot had changed in all the time that had passed. He’d made something of himself. Was one of Hitler’s right-hand men.

Of course, it appeared she’d made a good life for herself as well. Still, could they reconnect? Was that wise? Surely, she understood what was needed.

Perhaps she wasn’t happy. She might even want to be a part of something as revolutionary as what he was doing.

He glanced at the clock. It was only two in the morning. He needed sleep and plenty of it. As he lay back down, his thoughts tumbled over one another.

He didn’t need to make a decision right away, but it did seem prudent to keep an eye on her.

What if she desperately wanted to get away from what she was doing now but didn’t know how? He could help.

One of his best skill sets was getting rid of those in his way.

Paris, France—Wednesday, June 8, 1938

“Chaisley, we’ve got to talk.” Melanie gripped her shoulder.

“I know.” The past two days she’d kept her concert schedule but other than that, she’d hidden in her suite and cried. Then prayed. Then cried some more.

Why?

She wasn’t sure—other than the fact that she’d felt more for Rick Zimmerman than she’d let on. But now what did she do? He was a spy. There were any number of things he probably had to keep from her.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Mel prodded. “Then I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.”

“We all have secrets, but I don’t know what I think about Rick anymore. I trusted him.”

“I know.” Another squeeze to the shoulder. “I did too. And I still do.”

Ever-protective Melanie couldn’t have shocked her more if she’d slapped her. “You do?”

“Yes. He was there for me in a tough situation. His job demanded he keep a secret from us. I can accept that—I mean, we are fighting against the Nazis, right? And I believe he’s been forthright with us about everything he could.

Especially after you grilled him.” Her light laugh pierced the dark mood in the room. “And I know you care for him.”

Chaisley nodded. There wasn’t any point keeping her feelings from her dearest friend. “Dr. G guessed as much as well. He said he thought Rick was an honorable man. But what would he say if he knew what we know now?”

“I think you are giving Timothy Grafton way too little credit. Why don’t you talk to him about it next time you see him? It would be unusual for both of you to misjudge a person.”

“Why are you on his side?”

“I’m not on anyone’s side. Just trying to help you grasp the voice of reason.” Melanie’s voice traveled around the room accompanying the soft rhythm of her steps.

“What are you doing?” Chaisley didn’t like this feeling of losing control.

“I’m picking up your things from last night. I know how you like things tidy and in their place. This is so unlike you, Chais. Maybe you should just forgive him and move on. This can’t be good for your emotional well-being.”

More proof of her sulking attitude the past couple days. She never left things out. They caused tripping hazards, and she’d have a hard time finding them again. “Have you talked to Rick?”

“Yes, just a little bit ago.”

“Is he all right?” The fact that she cared enough to ask should tell her something. But her stubborn will was in the way of her own logic.

“He’s pretty torn up about how things ended the other night. But he’s trying to hide it.” Melanie didn’t stop her movements.

“Have I really left my things in that big of a mess?”

“For you, yes. But it’s not that bad. I don’t mind.”

She needed to stop making messes. Of her things. Of her relationships. “Maybe we should ask Rick to come talk.”

Her friend sighed. “ Finally . I think that’s a great idea.” Quick footsteps were followed by the click of the door, giving her no chance to change her mind.

Lord, help me be discerning. I don’t know what to think anymore.

The door opened again, and this time two sets of footsteps entered. As they came closer, Chaisley could smell the new shaving cream Rick used. It was oddly comforting.

“I’m sorry, Chaisley.” The humility in his tone was her undoing. “Please know that I would never intentionally hurt you. But I had to follow my orders until I knew you and Melanie could be trusted. I will do whatever I can to gain back your trust.”