“I can help cook,” Meredith offered meekly.
“Are you a good one?”
“Not bad. I grew up cooking for my dad after my mom died.”
“I’m sorry. I mean about your mom. Not about your cooking skills.” Faith chuckled. “I’m sure you’re better than I am. Especially after a long day slinging coffees.”
“I’d be happy to help,” Meredith offered. “The least I can do.”
“I may just take you up on that. Carrie hates to cook too. Sometimes we go out, but Friday nights get busy for restaurants, and she’s usually tired after a long week.”
Meredith pointed to the shopping bag. “Want me to carry that for you?”
“Nah, we’re almost there.”
By the time they’d climbed to the fourth floor—Faith had claimed the elevator sometimes was slower than molasses—Meredith was fully awake.
“It’s just a one-bedroom apartment,” Faith said. “Rent is so high here. But it’s comfortable.” She unlocked and opened the door, calling out for her aunt. “I have a surprise.”
A middle-aged woman appeared, wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and flip-flops. “Huh?” She studied Meredith, waiting while Faith offered a condensed explanation.
“Oh, that’s terrible,” Carrie told Meredith. “And your first day here too.”
“She has a money belt in her backpack,” Faith tattled as she unloaded food onto the small breakfast bar. “Along with all her other valuables.”
“Live and learn, eh?” Carrie shook her head. “Believe it or not, it happens to a lot of travelers. Particularly Americans. Not sure if it’s because we’re more naïve or trusting or what. But these scams are really on the rise this summer. And it’s only June.” She turned to her niece. “Did you call the police yet?”
“I didn’t even think of that,” Faith admitted.
“Well, we should do that.” She turned to Meredith. “Do you speak German?”
“Not well.”
“Why don’t you tell me your story with all the details you can remember? We’ll write it down, and I’ll explain to the police in German. It’s good to have it on record. Just in case they track down the thieves and recover your things.”
Meredith brightened a little. “Do you think they will?”
Carrie shook her head with a frown. “To be honest, they rarely track down these con artists, but more information helps.” She pointed to a small sofa. “Have a seat while I get a pad.”
“I’d hoped to help with dinner,” Meredith said.
“After we get this done,” Carrie insisted.
“Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you,” Faith called from the tiny kitchen. “I’m just putting stuff away.”
Meredith tried to remember as best she could, but some of it was fuzzy. “I don’t know car makes and models well enough to say,” she told Carrie. “Maybe a Mercedes or BMW? And I think it was black, but I’m not positive. The sun was shining, and it was a dark color. The interior was leather, and I’m pretty sure that was black.”
“And you think this Louise person was older? Like how old?”
“I don’t know. Her hair was gray and short. But she didn’t really look too wrinkly.”
“Probably a wig. A disguise to make her appear old.”
Meredith considered this. “Maybe so. But she really did seem wealthy. I don’t understand why she’d need to steal.”
“Of course, the predators have to look wealthy. To make you trust them. But it’s a façade. The car is probably a rental. And their classic MO is to prey on young victims who appear to be traveling alone. Americans and Brits are the most common target.”
“I still can’t wrap my head around it,” Meredith confessed. “To dress up like a rich old woman and use a rental car just to steal from me.”
