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Magnet raised his head, his eyes met mine, and I agreed.
When he motioned with his head in the direction of the front door, I met him in the foyer. “What is it?” I asked.
“Macht received word there was a fire.”
My eyes opened wide. “Where?”
“He said the address is of your chalet. I’m so sorry, Schön, but according to Macht, it burned to the ground.”
I felt dizzy and grabbed Magnet’s arm. “My chalet? It belonged to my parents and, before them, my grandparents.”
Anger built inside me like a storm, my hands fisted at my sides, and as much as I wanted to scream, I managed to keep my voice low. “That fucking bitch burned down the only thing I had left of my life with my mom and dad,” I seethed. My eyes met Magnet’s. “If it’s the last thing I do, I will kill Anouk Richter with my bare hands.”
“Let’s walk.”
I followed him through the open door. Once we were outside, Magnet put his hands on my shoulders. “Let it out, Schön. Scream, cry, rage, whatever you need to do.”
When my eyes, boring into his, filled with tears, I turned my back to him and screamed. I screamed again and again until I had nothing left. Before I sank to the ground on my knees, Magnet caught me and held me as I sobbed.
19
MAGNET
Schön had every right to be angry. Admittedly, her comment about killing Ehren with her bare hands had thrown me a little until she said the chalet had belonged to her parents. My heart broke for her when she said it was the only thing she had left of her life with them.
While it was logical to assume Ehren was behind the blaze, until a thorough investigation was conducted, we didn’t know that for sure. Which meant someone else might be targeting Schön. As much as I knew she’d hate it, my gut was telling me to get her out of Switzerland and back to Shere, where I had more control over keeping anyone from doing her further harm.
For now, I’d hold her and let her cry for as long as she needed me to. When she drooped, I picked her up and carried her over to a structure that looked like an enclosed gazebo. I kicked the door open with my foot and sat down on a bench with her in my arms. While my mobile pinged more than once, I ignored it. There were twelve other agents who could deal with whatever it was they thought they needed me for.
According to Macht, the compound where we were was as secure as the Trace estate in Shere. Which meant surveillance.
“Schön?”
She raised her head. “Could you do something for me?” she asked.
“Anything.”
“My name is Prisca. Call me that.”
“Of course, Prisca. It’s a beautiful name.” I’d known it, obviously.
“Schmid,” she whispered.
“What about him?”
“I want to look into him. I know he’s in on it. That’s why Ehren got away with as much as she did.”
While I could find it easily enough, it would be quicker and easier to ask her the name of the man Ehren had been involved with.
“Dolan Baumgartner,” Schön said when I inquired. “Long-time grifter. Most said he was attractive and charming, but I never thought so. The escalation of his criminal behavior coincided with when he first became an informant for Ehren.”
“You said you think Schmid was in on it.”
She nodded, shifted off my lap, and stood. “Baumgartner was part of a gang of street thugs that went by the name of Kuppe. Early on, they were small-time. Like I said, grifters. He and one other guy, Frigort, passed on information about the larger gangs. In turn, Richter and Schmid were the heroes for taking down the bigger organizations.”
She paced in the small area. At first, I thought her hands were clasped, but then I realized she was pinching her right hand between the thumb and index finger of the left. I reached out to her, and she abruptly stopped.
“There’s something I need to tell you. I planned to earlier.”
