Wading Into War: A Benjamin Wade Mystery Read Online Free

had I gotten myself into?
    A knock sounded at the door.
    Our eyes met. Hers filled with concern, mine probably showed defense.
    “Expecting anyone?” I whispered.
    She shook her head.
    The knock sounded again, louder and more insistent.

Chapter
Seven
     
    I stood and leaned in close to whisper and
caught a whiff of her skin and hair. Any other time, it would have been a nice
distraction. “I’ll get behind the door.”
    She nodded. The edge of her mouth twitched.
    I got in position, readied myself and nodded.
    “Who is it?” she said.
    A muffled voice said, “I have new information on your brother.”
    Her brows furrowed. Suddenly another bad taste formed in my mouth.
    She turned the knob and opened the door. Whoever it was kicked the door
wide. It caught me on the forehead. If that was the intention, it had worked. I
made a mental note to keep my hands up the next time this kind of thing
happened.
    A man dressed in a dark suit stormed into the room. He grabbed Lillian by
the wrist and wrung it behind her. She yelped and her knees gave away.
    “Where is it?” he demanded, his voice an odd accent I couldn’t place
immediately. “It has to be here.”
    I shook my head to clear the stars, then charged the guy. I’m not
anywhere near linebacker size, but I plowed into him just like he was a
quarterback. I caught him off guard and sent him sprawling onto the floor. He
released Lillian’s wrist and she scrambled away from the melee.
    My momentum carried me on top of the guy. I was in the process of getting
up when he elbowed me in the ribs. The wind flew out of my lungs and I rolled
off him, gasping for air. We had landed between the coffee table and the sofa,
so he had to extricate himself. That was all the delay I needed.
    Still heaving for breath, I stood and held up my fists. The man stood and
turned to me. I recognized him.
    He was the shooter, the man who murdered Wendall Rosenblatt.
    He used the momentary pause to his advantage. He put up his fists and
assumed a fighter’s stance. With his leg, he moved the coffee table aside,
giving him more room to maneuver.
    I grabbed the lamp from one of the end tables and hurled it at him. When
he ducked, I moved in. I flew with my right, but he parried with his forearm.
Good thing I was left-handed. My fist crashed into his jaw with a satisfying
crunch. He uttered one word as he fell to the floor.
    “ Sheisse !”
    I blinked at the word. Breathing hard, I turned to Lillian. “You hear
that?”
    She nodded.
    “He’s German. Come on,” I said, motioning to the door, “let’s get out of
here.” 
    She raced around the slumped figure and grabbed her purse from a side
table. Then, hand in hand, we ran to the elevator. The car arrived and we got
in, plunging straight for the ground floor.
    We hurried through the polished marble lobby and out into the gathering
dusk. We ran up Texas Avenue to Travis. Dozens of parked cars angled along the
curb. Mine was along the north side of the hotel. Seeing my Pontiac, I reached
into my pocket to pull out the keys. Then a strange thing happened.
    Doors from three of the parked cars opened simultaneously and out stepped
a half dozen men. All wore dark suits. Their builds told me they were well
muscled. They weren’t holding guns, but I realized they probably had them at
the ready. They effectively blocked our way.
    We turned away and stopped. A man in an Army uniform stood before us. On
either side of him were two MPs, each with a hand resting on their guns.
    “Mr. Wade,” the man said, his voice gruff, “you and I need to talk.”

Chapter
Eight
     
    Despite the threat these men seemed to pose, I
couldn’t help but be relieved.
    Pointing at the hotel, I said, “There’s a blasted Nazi in room 1010!”
    The man’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll check it out. That’s even more reason to
make our escape.” He motioned with his head to a dark sedan with an open door.
“Get in.”
    Things began to falter in my brain. These Army men