"I know, Jake. I know."
Jake hung the phone up gently. He stroked his hands through his hair. This shit's getting long, he thought, as he pulled pieces of hair straight up. Dirty too. He rose from the sofa, quickly undressed, and went into the bathroom to take a shower.
As the shower was getting hot, Jake looked at himself in the mirror. He noticed he'd lost a few pounds. His muscles were a little less defined; probably due to his lack of working out since arriving in Europe.
After the shower, he walked out into the living room, naked, rubbing his head dry with the towel.
Toni stood at the door, watching him.
Jake finally noticed her and just stood there looking back at her. He felt a warmth rising within him.
She kept her gaze on his eyes, but had to notice him growing.
"Is Kurt with you?" Jake asked.
"No. I'll have to go pick him up in a few hours."
"That should be enough time," Jake said as he moved closer to Toni.
Her breathing became slower and deeper; her chest rising with each breath.
Jake dropped the towel, grasped the nape of her neck, and kissed her anxiously.
Squeezing his firm buttocks with both hands, she thrust him closer to her.
He released his kiss and nibbled along her strong jaw and down her neck; then back up to her ear.
She stretched her head backward. "Jake," she sighed.
He slowly unbuttoned her shirt and unleashed the front latch on her overflowing bra. Her breasts escaped into his awaiting hand. He caressed her gently, discovering her firm, rounded form, as he had so many times before.
Toni kicked off her shoes, and Jake helped her slip out of her skirt.
Their lips met again as they lowered themselves to the smooth blue tapestry.
He slowly entered her.
"Yes," she cried softly. "Pronto, pronto."
He picked up the tempo. Smoothly, quickly, forcefully.
She arched her back and forced her lips upward with each stroke.
It was as if they had never parted ways. They had always been so good together.
After a long while, they lay united, embracing, her soft face against his stubbled jaw.
CHAPTER 29
The white tiles shone brightly from the overpowering florescent ceiling lights. A large nurse in white strode confidently down the corridor with a silver tray in her hands. An antiseptic odor permeated the air, enough to give a headache to the uninitiated.
Herbert Kline squinted into the small window of the hospital waiting room door. A blonde woman sat in tears. Across from her, an old man leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands cupped over the end of a wooden cane.
Herb started to push his way through the door, but hesitated. He wasn't good at comforting, he thought. That's probably why his marriage had failed. He wouldn't allow himself to lend emotional support to a woman who justly needed it.
Slowly he entered through the heavy wooden door. The old man didn't move, and the pretty blonde continued to weep.
"Entschuldigen Sie, Frau Kaiser," Herb said standing in front of the woman. "My name is Herr Kline. Jake Adams is my friend."
Finally, she looked up at Herb; tears streaking her high cheek bones. "Is Jake here?" she asked softly.
"No. I just found out that your husband, Walter, was here less than an hour ago."
"You're the Customs Officer?" she asked.
"Yes." Herb quickly flashed his identification to prove who he was, and hopefully put her at ease. "How is your husband?"
She shifted in her chair and crossed her legs in the opposite direction. "The doctors won't commit themselves one way or the other. He has a lot of internal bleeding."
Herb noticed that she found strength in talking about Walter's condition. "I'm sure he'll be fine," Herb said. "This is the best Krankenhaus in Koblenz…perhaps in all of Rhineland-Pfalz."
She nodded.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"I don't know much. I came home with Jakob, my son, after spending the evening with my parents. Walt decided at the last minute not to come with me. He said he had some things to clear up on a case he's been working. When I came home, he was gone. His computer was on, the lights were on, but that was it. I thought he might have taken a walk. He does that from time to time. I put Jakob to bed, and then started to worry when he still wasn't home. I called his assistant to see if he had gone there, but he hadn't."
"So, how did they find him?" Herb asked softly.
"A young couple found him this morning lying in the street less than five blocks from here. I…I didn't recognize him when I saw him." She covered her eyes with her hands and shook trying to hold back the tears.
Herb placed his hand on her shoulder. "We'll find the bastards who did this." He knew that he wouldn't have to look far. Gunter's men had done just what they were told. Get the information, but don't kill him, Gunter had said. What could Walter Kaiser have known to make him hold out that long? Perhaps only Jake and Walt could answer that…and maybe Gunter now.
"How did you get here then, Frau Kaiser?" Herb asked, trying to displace some of the tears.
"One of Walt's men drove me from Wiesbaden."
Herb saw a flash of white at the door through the corner of his eye. A doctor waited as Herb had, not knowing if he really wanted to enter. Herb quickly went out to greet the silver-haired doctor.
"Are you Walter Kaiser's doctor?" Herb asked anxiously.
"Yes. Are you with the Polizei?"
Herb didn't say a word. He simply flashed his credentials quickly and slid them back into his pocket. "Well? How is he?"
"Pretty banged up," the doctor said. "He lost blood internally and through numerous cuts and lacerations. He looks like somebody dragged him behind a Mercedes at high speed on the Autobahn. He has broken ribs, a broken nose and jaw. A few fingers were snapped like twigs. Whoever did this must enjoy giving pain. It appears that Herr Kaiser resisted heavily."
"Has he said anything yet?"
"Yes, he keeps mumbling something. It's hard to make out, but I think he's saying, Johnson, and Boss. I don't understand what that means. Do you?"
Herb thought for a moment. Johnson? He's dead. What could Johnson be the boss of? That makes no sense. "No, it makes no sense to me," Herb finally said. "But I'll guarantee one thing. I'll find out who did this. May I speak with him?"
"Yes, for a moment. But I'm not sure how much he'll understand."
Inside the private room, tubes protruded from nearly every opening on Walt's body. A machine pumped a bellows up and down and acted as Walt's lungs. He could have been any man, Herb thought. He had never met Walter, but was sure he looked nothing like the frail entity lying before him. Would he trust a stranger? Herb scanned the room to be certain they were alone, and then moved next to the bed.
"I'm Herbert Kline, a good friend of Jake Adams, and an agent with the German Customs Office," he started. "I know the men who did this to you, and will make them pay dearly. But first, I need some information from you."
Herb looked around again. He had to find out what, if anything, Walt told the men.
Walt's face was heavily bandaged, and his eyes were swollen nearly shut. So it was hard for Herb to know if Walt's eyes were even open. Finally, the same words that the doctor had heard came out softly. "Johnson…boss."
Damn it! What in the hell does that mean? "Johnson is dead!" Herb said adamantly.
"Boss…." Walt said desperately.
Johnson…boss. "Johnson's boss?" Herb asked.
Walt attempted to nod his head.
Who in the hell is Johnson's boss? Did he mean Gunter? "Gunter Schecht?"
Walt shook his head sideways.
A monitor the size of a lunch box kept track of Walt's pulse and heart rhythm, and was now producing an erratic and fluctuating wave setting off a buzzer.