The Pieces We Keep(124)

After several days of pondering Robert’s words, she had been tucking Jack into bed when he asked about his grandparents. Can we go visit them before we move? he’d asked, and she was reminded that he knew nothing of what had occurred. Of course we can, she’d answered, a verbal reflex. In the late hours of the same night, she had concluded it was time to reach out. Though part of her still harbored resentment, it was impossible to discard compassion in light of the couple’s past.

At this point, it was a toss-up as to which meeting tomorrow would clench the prize for tension and awkwardness, but as a means for proper closure they were tied.

The phone rang.

Tess salvaged the cordless from the mound of books and checked the screen. “It says Shuman. Do you want it?”

The name didn’t sound familiar—at first. Then recognition set in. Audra had forgotten all about the woman’s voice mail. Cringing from her blunder, she answered the phone and finally connected with Taylor Shuman.

“I’m so sorry. I completely meant to call you back. With summer break starting, and everything else, it’s been pretty hectic.”

“I totally understand,” Taylor said. “I was just worried you didn’t get my message, so thought I’d better try your home number too. I do have some information for you, if now’s a good time.”

The polite thing to do, obviously, was hear the woman out. Then Audra would thank her profusely and assure her it was the perfect amount of details to finish a family project. Another way of saying there was no need for more.

“Now is a great time. I’d love to hear it.”

“Wonderful. I have the file right here.” Papers faintly shuffled over the line. “Let me tell you, Sean was right about this guy, Jakob, being a challenge to track down. It became a personal mission of mine. I even recruited a friend to help out. He’s an archivist at a military museum and has a knack for uncovering this kind of stuff.”

The more Audra learned of people’s wasted efforts, the worse she felt.

“Anyway, it took some digging, but we did locate a file that was recently declassified. Actually, it might have been the one you had trouble viewing online. Turns out, he was, in fact, one of the spies convicted in that saboteurs’ case in 1942.”

Audra grappled with the statement. She hadn’t expected the connection. No article she had read ever included him. “Are you sure about that?”

“I’m looking at a summary of the case right here. It states that Jakob Isaak Hemel was tried by a military—”

“I’m sorry. Did you say Isaak? As in, his middle name?”

Tess scrunched her brow at Audra, direly curious from catching a single side of the conversation.

“That’s right. Apparently he was tried in a separate case. That’s why he wasn’t listed with the others. According to this document, he was declared guilty and given—hold on, where’d it go?—oh, yeah. He was sentenced to fifteen years of hard labor in prison.”

“So ... he wasn’t sent to the electric chair.”

“Looks like he got off for collaborating. Only two others in the group weren’t executed. Eventually, at different times, the three were deported to Germany. And that’s the most intriguing part.”

Audra pressed her hand to her temple, fully aware that she wasn’t prepared for the rest. “What is?” she asked.

“There’s no record of him after that. Not a shred of evidence he ever made it there.”

At the suspenseful pause, Audra sank further into confusion. “What does that mean?”

“Honestly, I don’t know if they’re linked in any way, but there was a memo in Jakob’s file. It mentioned a missing plane over the Atlantic within a few days of his release. An Army transport. From what we can tell, something about it was covered up, though we don’t know what.”

A shiver ran through Audra’s body from scalp to toes. She gripped the phone tighter.

Tess demanded in a whisper, “What’s wrong?”

But Audra couldn’t answer. Her mind was too consumed by the thought of her son in the next room, a young boy who once again threatened all that she believed.





58


Vivian would have outright rejected the idea just years ago.

But much had changed since then, and the task of becoming a dutiful housewife had become her penance.

Her bouts of nausea had fully waned. Though her pregnancy was eleven weeks along, the small swell of her belly was simple to hide. At Gene’s insistence, they had yet to announce the news, not even to family. It was only the first trimester, he had pointed out.

If in actuality he was hoping a natural mishap would eliminate the need, she could hardly fault him. In her own darkest moments–prior to the day a fluttering brushed her insides, a discernible whisper of life-she could not deny having had the same thought.