Satisfied that she was as clean as she was going to get, she headed to the children's bedroom. She could make out her niece’s sleeping form. Somehow, her niece had managed to get back into bed and go right to sleep as if nothing had happened.
When she looked at Leo's bed, however, the boy was not there.
Lisette felt her heart skip in her chest. Dieter and the fat German sergeant had not frightened her, but the sight of that empty bed did. Where had her nephew gone?
She went into the kitchen, then wandered back to her own bedroom, and then to the twins' bedroom again. The house was too small for Leo to be hiding anywhere.
Lisette ran into the farmyard, calling his name. "Leo? Leo? Where are you?"
She checked the outhouse. Then the barn and henhouse. Nothing.
It would not have been like her nephew to wander off. He had certainly never done that before, and he would not have done that at night, alone.
Lisette recalled the sound of the motorcycle fading in the night. With a sinking feeling, she realized that Dieter and the German sergeant had not left alone. She could not think of any other explanation for Leo’s disappearance. For whatever reason, they must have taken Leo with them.
Lisette did not go back to bed. Sleep would have been impossible. She made coffee and sat at the kitchen table until first light, deciding what to do, and hoping against hope that Leo would come wandering in from some hiding place. Maybe he had been scared by the Germans.
The chickens stirred, the rooster crowed, and Lisette remained alone.
She wished she knew where her brother, Henri, had gone. She could have used his help. But like so many young Frenchmen, he was off fighting the Germans, prying their fingers away from France. That was all well and good, but what about the children?
Getting Leo back was up to her, and her alone.
She would have to confront the Germans at their headquarters to do it. The thought of that filled her with trepidation.
Lisette knew that she could not take Elsa with her. She was walking into the lion's den, after all. There was a good chance that she would not be coming back. With the Germans, there was no telling what might happen.
Her mind made up, Lisette went and woke up Elsa. She gave the girl bread and a cup of milk for breakfast. When Lisette questioned her, it was clear that Elsa had no idea what had become of her brother, nor did she seem especially frightened by what had happened last night.
"Dieter gave me chocolate," she announced. A pout soon replaced her smile. "He said he was taking Leo on an adventure. I wanted to go, but he said it was for boys only."
Lisette could only nod at her niece's childish innocence. "Drink your milk."
"What is wrong, Tante?"
"I must go find Leo. Did anyone say where this adventure was going to be?”
Elsa just shrugged.
There was an old woman named Madame Pelletier who lived half a mile away. Leaving Elsa alone with her bread and milk, Lisette left long enough to bring back the old woman. She agreed to mind Elsa at the house. Lisette wanted someone there, just in case Leo returned on his own, by some miracle.
She scribbled a quick note to Henri, explaining what she was doing. She did not go into detail, of course; Henri would blame her more than the Germans for what had happened. She left instructions with Madame Pelletier to tell Henri where she had gone, if he happened to appear.
"If I can, I will call you," she said, nodding at the old telephone on the wall. By some miracle, it still worked — say what you wanted about the Germans, but the roads, electricity, and telephone service had vastly improved during their occupation of France. Her farmhouse was close enough to the road for a telephone; old Madame Pelletier’s house didn't have one yet.
Upon leaving the cottage, Lisette's first thought was to visit German headquarters. Leo might be there, and perhaps she could lodge a complaint against Rohde — for all the good that it would do. The Germans could care less what French civilians thought.
However, she had not gone far when a vehicle came up the road. She had been expecting a German truck and was taken aback by the large white star on the hood. Americans!
The truck slowed. The sight of a young French girl, walking alone down a road, was enough to get the attention of the soldiers in the truck.
"Need a ride, miss?" the driver asked enthusiastically. He spoke French with a very heavy accent, but was understandable.
Quickly, Lisette explained about her missing nephew. She had to tell her story three times, ever more slowly, before the driver understood it all. The driver then told her in no uncertain terms that she would never make it to German headquarters. There was already heavy fighting in that direction. The Germans, he said, were surrounded.
Lisette's heart sank, thinking of Leo.
"If I were you, I'd try our forward command post. If anyone found a kid, that's where he'd be. Hop in. We're headed there right now."
Lisette thought that made more sense than finding herself in the middle of a battlefield, or than searching aimlessly across the woods and fields. There was also the unsettling thought that if she found Leo, she might also come upon Dieter Rohde. If that happened, it might be useful to be accompanied by soldiers. The GIs eagerly made room for her in the cab of the truck, and off they went.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Well before dawn that morning, Rohde was back in the field where he had prepared his sniper's hides. In the gloom, he looked them over quickly and saw with satisfaction that everything from the hole in the field, to his makeshift shooting blind, to his shooting platform within the hedgerow itself, blended almost perfectly into the landscape. It would take a sniper with the eyes of a hawk to spot anything amiss.
Rohde realized that he did not feel the least bit of guilt about shooting Hohenfeldt. He only regretted not doing it sooner, because it would have saved him a lot of trouble. As for that business with Lisette, what was done was done. He would have preferred to end things differently with her, but he reminded himself that Lisette she was just another tooth in the cog of war. Just like Rohde himself. Just like everyone.
The hour was later than he had planned, not so much because of the errand involving the Staber, but because of the little boy, Leo, who lagged behind at every step. The boy's enthusiasm about going on an adventure was beginning to wane.
"Hurry up, damn you!" he snapped at the boy, his patience at an end. Everything depended upon their being in position by first light. The boy spoke little German, but Rohde's tone needed no translation.
"I'm hungry," the boy whined in response.
"I told you, do what you are told and you can have something to eat."
The child nodded sullenly.
Already, a red dawn showed to the east, a harbinger of another day of war. And yet the countryside around them remained oblivious. Birds began to sing in the trees. A cow lowed in the distance, signaling that it was ready to be milked.
Rohde looked out across the field, toward the distant hedgerow on the other side. As the light gathered, the details of his killing field became more clear.
Now, he just needed the bait.
To catch a lion…
"Come here," he said to the boy with a coldness in his voice that made the child give him every bit of his attention. "Put out your hands."