“I know what Boar said, but I’m not leaving this Nazi or his car on your farm for the Germans to find.” Cold wind whipped through his undershirt, causing goose bumps to crop up on his arms. He handed the clothing to Madeleine, then stepped to Dietrich and began to unbutton his tunic.

“No,” Madeleine said.

Ollie finished unbuttoning Dietrich’s tunic, noticing that the man’s body temperature was already beginning to cool. He slid the Nazi’s arms from the sleeves. As he attempted to pull off the tunic, the clothing remained stuck to Dietrich’s back. He swallowed, rolled the body over, and lifted the tunic over the scythe that protruded from his spine. Burying a wave of nausea, he slipped on the tunic, then retrieved Dietrich’s cap and pistol.

Madeleine grabbed his arm. “You must not do this.”

Ollie pulled away, then opened the trunk of the car, only to find that it was barely big enough to fit a small bag, let alone a Nazi. With no other option, he grabbed Dietrich by his jackboots and dragged him to the car. Struggling to lift the weight with his bad shoulder, Ollie flopped the body onto the floor of the back seat. He covered the Nazi with a black leather trench coat that had been neatly folded on the passenger seat.

Ollie looked at Madeleine as he fastened the top of the tunic. The collar tightened against his neck. “I need you to trust me.”

Madeleine squeezed her handkerchief. Louis pressed against her leg.

“Make sure Boar doesn’t do anything stupid.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “He’ll listen to you.”

Reluctantly, she nodded.

“Find Guillaume’s friend. Tell him that we leave tomorrow. If I’m not back by morning, have them go without me.” Before Madeleine could respond, he got into the car and shut the door. As he reached for the ignition, he noticed the key was missing. He found it by leaning into the back seat and searching Dietrich’s pants pockets. His hand shook as he inserted the key into the ignition.

CHAPTER 43 - AIRAINES, FRANCE

CHAPTER 43

AIRAINES, FRANCE

Flight Lieutenant Boar tried using the back of a spoon to see his reflection, but the pewter was too tarnished. He threw the utensil back into the sink and went to Madeleine’s bedroom. Although he rarely left the confinement of the kitchen, other than sleeping under the floorboards, he knew exactly where her room was located by the creak of her footsteps. He found what he was looking for above a washbasin—a chipped gilt-framed mirror. He stepped toward his reflection. And saw a monster.