“It’s good that Wulf will know you’re safe,” Dieter said.
“Yeah, I wish I could havecalled him from that cell, but you’re right. We needed to make one call to someone who could help us, not just reach out for fun.”
“Yeah,” Dieter said. He chewed on his lip, wanting to talk, but the words he thought of seemed wrong.
Flicka said, “I think Wulfie will come around at some point. You guys have too much history to lose your friendship over a name.”
His hand holding the steeringwheel cramped. “I hope you’re right.” He didn’t think she was.
“You miss him,” Flicka said.
He turned the car around a gentle curve, following the thick traffic on the wide highway. “It isn’t like we were married or something.”
“No, but it’s as deep as that,” she said. “You were friends, best friends, the very best of friends, until you weren’t.”
God, that felt like a knife in his back.
No, it felt like a knifewoundin his back, a violent emptiness where muscle and blood should be, but weren’t.
Dieter swallowed hard. He couldn’t imagine his mouth saying these things to anyone, except Flicka. If he could talk to anyone, he could tell her how much his heart hurt. “When Gretchen and I divorced, it wasn’t this hard. Nothing was right, there, from the beginning. I knew I couldn’tforce that to work, no matter how hard I tried for Alina’s sake. It was doomed from the start.”
She said, “It was the same with Pierre and me. It seemed so logical on paper because I was floating through my life without feeling anything. So I married him. Of course, it didn’t work out. I think everyone knew he was using me, though I don’t think many people knew why. I’ll bet Therese Grimaldidid. Christine probably didn’t. I don’t know what Abigai Caillemotte thought about me.”
He picked up her fingers and held them to his lips, kissing the backs of her fingers as he spoke. “I hate that he did that to you.”
“I didn’t like it very much, either.” Her voice was light, but there was a world of hurt in there, he could tell.
Dieter said, “I don’t think Wulfram knew about Pierre’s otherwife. He never told me about her, anyway. I’m sure he would have told you.”
“I don’t think he knew about her, but he tried to warn me off, anyway. We had several very quiet, serious conversations about Pierre, but no one can talk me out of anything, you know.”
Dieter smiled behind her hand. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Flicka slipped her fingers out of his grip and lightly backhanded him onhis arm.
Dieter chuckled.
She asked him, “Is your real birthday October twenty-sixth?”
“Raphael Mirabaud’s is. I’m not sure who I am.”
“You’re Dieter Schwarz,” she told him, firmly.
“Okay, I know who I am, but I’m not sure which birthday to use.”
“You’re such a Scorpio. You’re not a Virgo at all. I don’t see how we’re going to get past that.”
He picked up her hand and wound his fingersaround hers. “Maybe we’ll figure out a way to reclaim my birthday.”
“We were in Las Vegas in October. We should have done something for your birthday.”
“I brought cupcakes home that day, just because.”
She nodded. “I remember. That’s good, I suppose.
“Your birthday is coming up in a few months.” February twenty-second, if he remembered right.
“Yeah. Whatever. I’m totally a Pisces: serene,able to move with the shifting tides, and fluid.”
Except when the napkins were polyester. “Of course you are, my love.”
They drove toward Geneva, where Dieter’s family awaited them.
Raphael Mirabaud’s family.
He needed to warn Océane what was coming.
