Chapter Six

Hogan stormed back into Barracks Two, startling the men out of their gin game. "Kinch, radio our people in Hammelburg. I want to know what they know about Leidel as soon as possible."

Carter folded his cards. "Couldn't the doc help us out since he's this guy's cousin?"

Hogan shook his head. "They lost contact when Leidel entered the service."

Kinch left the table and walked quickly to the tunnel entrance. It yawned open at his command, but he turned away from it and met Hogan's eyes. "You think Leidel's trouble after all, Colonel?"

"Maybe. Something about his attitude caught my attention," Hogan admitted. With a wry smile, he added, "Of course, most of it was on his sister to begin with. Much nicer scenery there."

Newkirk abandoned his winning hand and jumped up from the table. "About the sister -- "

"What a living doll," Carter sighed, leaning his chin into his palm.

"Yeah, a doll I'd like to have tucked up all nice and cozy in my arms," Newkirk declared.

Hogan avoided the coming interrogation by escaping into his quarters. Risa was beautiful, but the other member of the Leidel family currently held his interest.

He wondered, as he slapped his door shut to block out Newkirk's pleas for "details, guv'nor, details!" if he had made a mistake in taking Klaus Leidel so lightly.

HH*HH*HH*HH*HH*HH*HH*HH*HH*HH

"What is wrong with you?" Risa stared across the car. "I have never seen you act like that."

And so it begins, Klaus sighed inwardly. Choosing not to answer for the moment, he pulled the car to the curb in front of her building and turned off the engine. The return trip from Stalag 13 had been made in silence -- Risa throwing piercing looks his way, which he had studiously ignored -- or tried to. And now, she was waiting for an answer and by the fiery glint in her eye she intended to get it.

"I don't know what you mean." He gingerly rubbed at the base of his skull to be sure his head was still attached. A roaring headache had taken root the moment Klink had put bow to violin. He had wondered why Hogan seemed eager for Klink to play for them. He had gotten his answer.

Impatience flared in Risa's eyes. "I am talking about your treatment of Colonel Hogan. Why were you interrogating him?"

"I was merely making polite conversation."

"You forget how many times I have heard you make 'polite' conversation, Klaus. This wasn't one of them. You were interrogating him. Why?"

"Who is the interrogator now?" Klaus muttered before he could stop himself.

"So you admit it!"

"I would have no reason to do such a thing."

Her lips pursed into a frown. "Even after Colonel Hogan left, you continued questioning the Kommandant about him and all aspects of his background."

"That was for your benefit," Klaus retorted.

"Mine?"

"You seemed to appreciate my distracting the Kommandant's affections before Hogan's arrival."

Her expression softened. "I did. But after the colonel left, you focused the conversation solely upon him. The Kommandant changed the topic several times, yet you always steered the conversation back to Colonel Hogan."

"You're imagining things." A fifty soldier parade had started in Klaus' head. He gritted his teeth against the pounding in his temples, concentrated on the conversation. "I was trying to keep the Kommandant from an encore performance. By only the wildest stretch of the imagination could that man be called a violinist! Stradivarius is probably rolling in his grave from the things he did to that instrument!"

With forced nonchalance, he exited the car and went around to the other side to help Risa out. He opened her door and offered his hand, but she ignored it. Head aloft, eyes front, she glided past him up the steps and into the building, leaving him standing beside an empty car. Exhaling slowly, he looked skyward, shoved the door shut and trailed after her.

She was just hanging her wrap when he arrived at her apartment. Pointedly ignoring him, she went to her small stove and set a kettle of water on to heat, then disappeared into her bedroom. He flinched when the door closed with a resounding thud. Dropping his cap on a small table near the door, he wandered over to the couch and sat down. Propping his elbows on his knees, he carefully cradled his aching head in his hands.

The water came to a boil a few minutes later, setting the kettle to whistling. The sound drilled through his head. Knowing she could hear the noise through the closed door, he peeked between his fingers toward the bedroom, but she did not appear. After a few seconds of the torture, he shot across the room and removed the kettle from the burner. The whistle wound down in a mournful wail.

Risa chose that moment to finally emerge from her bedroom, now comfortably clothed in a midnight blue dressing gown that made her blonde hair appear to glow with an inner light. With a murmur of thanks, she took the kettle from him and poured two cups of tea. After handing him one, she slowly crossed to the couch and curled into one corner, tucking her feet beneath her. His lips twitched in private amusement. Perhaps a cease fire had been called.

"Risa, I was curious about him. That was all." That is the truth. For the most part, he thought, glancing down at the hot tea and wishing it were beer.

"That doesn't explain your reaction to him."

He sighed and walked over to take a seat on the couch with her. "I simply . . . " he shrugged, stalling for time while he searched for an answer she would accept. " . . . didn't like him."

She regarded him over the rim of her cup for several seconds, then carefully set the cup down and folded her hands in her lap. "So your belligerence --"

"Belligerence!" His skull split in two from the force of his yell. His eyes slammed shut and he silently made a promise to himself.

We'll see which of us is the better prankster, Hogan. The next joke will be on you.

"Your belligerence," Risa calmly repeated, brushing back the heavy drape of hair that had fallen into her eyes. "was simply an immature response."

His eyes cracked open and he regarded her set expression. She was trying to goad him. Two can play this game, little sister. My pride has been sacrificed for greater things than this.

"Yes."

She gaped at him. "Yes?"

"Yes," he nodded, being careful of his aching head. "And since we are discussing reactions, let's examine yours. Klink did not make a favorable impression, but Hogan did."

Risa's cup rattled against its saucer when she went to take a sip of tea. "My impression of the Kommandant is one I would rather not discuss. As for Colonel Hogan …" her voice grew wistful. She missed the look of incredulity Klaus gave her as he set his own cup aside.

"What is it about him that is so special compared to the other men that trail after you like love-starved puppies?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"I would like to. Your swooning took me completely off guard and --"

"Swooning?!" She looked ready to fling her cup in his face. He hastily waved his hands between them to keep from taking a shower in tea.

"Poor choice of words. Your appreciation," he corrected, "surprised me. It's not as if you lack handsome suitors. Take Hermann, for instance. He hardly pales in comparison to Hogan."

Her finely arched eyebrows winged upward and she pulled back slightly. "Hermann? Klaus, I've told you, he is --"

"A soldier! Yes, he is a soldier! So is Hogan! And an American P.O.W., at that!" At the hurt that flashed across her face, he brought his voice and his exasperation under control. "Risa, do not let familiarity and what happened to Father color your perception."

She gazed back at him, uncomprehending.

"Open your eyes, little sister. Stop looking at Hermann as though he were a friend and a soldier who might be killed in war and start seeing him as a man who might love you." He frowned inwardly, surprised at his own words. When had he decided to take on the role of matchmaker for his sister and his best friend? And were his motives strictly altruistic? Or was he simply using Hermann to distract her from Hogan? What a ridiculous thought! It's unlikely that she'll ever see Hogan again.

Risa ducked her head and stared down into her cup. "And if I do?"

He slid closer and placing the tip of a finger beneath her chin, brought her head up again. "You will be very pleasantly surprised." Hermann had been smitten with Risa since their childhood. Over the years, his boyhood crush had developed into the deep, passionate love of a man for a woman. He was one of the bravest men Klaus had ever met -- except when it came to professing his love to Risa.

Klaus left the couch, deposited his untouched cup of tea in the sink and then returned to stand in front of her. She looked up at him, still too stunned by the revelation about Hermann to speak. Giving her an affectionate smile and hoping his pounding head didn't fall off in the process, Klaus leaned over and kissed her cheek. The faint scent of gardenia lingered on her skin. It had been their mother's favorite perfume. As always, the thought of their late mother sent an arrow of grief through his heart. He took a steadying breath, aware of green eyes watching.

"I've got to go."

She nodded. "Thank you for accompanying me tonight, Klaus." She grabbed hold of one of his earlobes and playfully twisted. He laughed softly and pulled free.

"Sleep well, little sister."

He placed another kiss on her cheek, retrieved his cap and left the apartment. It was late, but he had one more stop to make before seeking his own rest.

To be continued . . .