Songbird Under a German Moon (30 page)

“Yes. I suppose I believe that more than I used to.” She leaned forward, the edge of the table pressing against her ribs. “Frank, why are you saying this?”

“I'm saying it because I have something to tell you.”

Betty studied his gaze, and she could tell she wasn't going to like what he was about to say.

“I used you, Betty. I used you to get to Kat. To get to the others in the Festspielhaus.”

Betty felt her chin drop, but her heart dropped further. She stared into Frank's eyes and knew it was the truth.

Betty swallowed hard. “Why are you telling me this?”

Frank reached for her hand and then changed his mind and pulled it back. “I think you should leave. There's nothing for you here. You'll never be anything but a back-up singer. And”—he lowered his gaze, but not before she saw sadness there—“I don't want you staying around for me.”

Betty hid her trembling hands under the table. “Yes, well, thank you for telling me the truth.”
It was just like Kat had said.
She looked away, hoping the tears wouldn't come. Then she stood. “I need to go now. I have work to do. And…” Her voice rose. “And even if I'm never anything more than a back-up singer, it will be enough. In—in time, God's plan will…” She covered her mouth with her hand and hurried away.

It will work out. God's plans will work out,
she thought as she hurried outside. But even as she thought that, pain filled her.

This is not how it's supposed to be.

Lord, I can't handle any more.

Who do I have now? Who do I have besides You?

Frank strode home, not looking to the right or the left. He'd sat in class that morning, but he hadn't learned a thing. His thoughts had been on Betty. Finally, just before lunch, he'd decided the most logical thing to do would be to let every romantic thought of her go. No—more than that, he needed to force her away. It had seemed like a good plan at the time. No family needed to go through the pain of losing a daughter, a sister, like his family had gone through with Lily. Now he wasn't so sure about his decision.

She needs to leave. Needs to go where it's safe.
He couldn't live with himself if anything happened to her.

Yet, if that was the right choice, why had he felt so bad about what he'd said? The pain showing in Betty's eyes had obviously cut to her heart, and seeing that made him wonder if he'd done the right thing.

Frank approached his house, pulled the key from his pocket, and unlocked the door. Then he strode up to his room to get his camera. He was halfway across the room when he noticed something on his bed. A white envelope.

Did Art get into my things? Did he pull out the letters and read them?

Frank hurried over and opened the envelope. He recognized the script, but the words were new.

The singer may be just first. A warning of what is to come. Her death is sad mystery. The new Songbird holds the knowledge of the answers, if she looks upon the photographs. She will see truth.

How did this get here?
Frank's heart pounded in his chest and his hand reached for his gun. Was the mysterious messenger still around?

He was right about one thing—Kat's murder was perhaps just the first. He knew something else too.
Songbird
—was this note saying that Betty might have the answer? Was it possible that Betty would see something he missed by looking at the photos? Frank had never shared top secret information before, but this seemed like a shot worth taking.

I need Betty. She's a key to this somehow. If this is correct, I need her to look at the photos.

Betty watched Oskar as he set up the stage for the evening's events. He seemed lost in his own world as he hoisted the large wooden backdrop and set it in place. As Betty watched, she wondered what she was doing here. She wondered why God would do this to her—make her go through all this pain. She had already faced so much, and now she had to face Frank's rejection.
He didn't care about me. He just cared about using me to get to the others.

“Do you think we should run through the numbers?”

Betty turned at Dolly's voice.

“The band's getting all set up,” Dolly continued. “And from what I hear, Mickey's landed in Nuremberg and is on his way.”

Betty nodded, remembering that drive. Had it only been a week since she headed here with stars in her eyes? That didn't seem possible.

“I'm game for practicing. I want to do as good a job as I possibly can.”
While I'm still here—
she wanted to add. Maybe Frank was right. Maybe she didn't have anything to stick around for.

Betty looked around. She saw the band, dressed in white suits and blue shirts, but she didn't see the third wheel of their trio. “Where's Irene?”

“Probably hiding in the orchestra pit, smooching with Billy.”

“Billy? Are you kidding? I didn't know they were sweet on each other.”

“Oh, I think he's liked her for a while, but it's only recently that she started liking him back. I think Kat's death, and her feelings for Edward, have made all of us want to have someone special in our lives.”

“I can agree with that.” Shirlee piped in from where she had been practicing her dance steps on stage. “I've been with the USO for two years, and even though I'm used to the word
obey
, I hope sometime when I use it in the near future it'll have a ‘love, honor, and ' in front of it.”

Betty chuckled, surprising herself, and then she stepped forward to the edge of the stage and looked down into the orchestra pit. It made her stomach quiver to see the big cavern. It was as if a cave existed under the first row—and it was dark beyond that.

“I'm not sure I see anyone,” Betty said.

“Not there, underneath,” Dolly pointed. “The pit goes way back, under the stage. I heard from Oskar that the
Ring
orchestra needed over one hundred and fifty musicians.”

Then, remembering Oskar was on stage, Dolly turned to him. “Is that right, Oskar—one hundred and fifty?”

“What? Oh, yes.” Oskar finished setting up the scene, and then moved to them. “It was a sight to behold.”

“Don't say
was
—I'm sure it'll happen again. Maybe after we leave, some of the old performers will come back.” Dolly placed her hand on her hips. “Things aren't going to be like this forever. Believe it or not, we will go home someday.”

Oskar's eyes narrowed. Then he lowered his head. “I wish that were the case, but I do not see this happening. The world has changed.” His lips pressed together into a thin line, and Betty could tell he wanted to say more, but held back.

“I bet it was magical,” Betty whispered, looking around the auditorium. “The music must have been overwhelming. I can imagine it moved the listeners deep inside their souls.”

Oskar nodded. “Wagner alone knew how to use the music and the words to change people. Those who watched, listened—left different. That is why they came—so many came—faithfully over the years.”

“I can imagine the singers and musicians enjoyed the experience equally as well.” Betty dared to take another step, her toe touching the edge. “How did the musicians get down there?”

“There is no need to go down there.” Oskar's voice was firm. “There is no need.” With that, he turned and walked away, back behind stage.

“I think Irene is going to get in trouble if she's caught,” Betty whispered to Dolly. “I guess that leaves out me asking him for a tour.”

“That's strange,” Dolly said, her gaze following Oskar. “He's always been eager to show us around before—but you're right. Let's hope Irene doesn't get caught.”

Betty was pacing backstage in her red velvet dress and black satin pumps when Mickey showed up fifteen minutes before the show was set to start. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes looked puffy, as if he hadn't slept all night.

Seeing his weariness, Betty wanted to work harder—wanted to prove that bringing her on hadn't been a mistake. Made her want to put a smile on his face and maybe help him forget for a few minutes that he'd just buried Kat. It was the least she could do before she flew the coop, which she was beginning to consider more and more.

The rest of the performers must have had the same thing on their minds, because everyone seemed to be in top form. Betty noticed the sweet grin Irene gave Billy as their trio walked on stage. It made her think of Frank, and she searched the crowd looking for him. She found him, sitting up in the box that she'd heard had, at one time, been Hitler's private box. She noticed he was looking at her, watching her, and she quickly looked away. A sadness filled her, joining with a thousand other sad thoughts that she'd been collecting lately.

The first set of songs and dances went off without a hitch, but halfway through the trio's second number the lights went out. The stage lights, the auditorium lights—everything dropped to a black so thick it almost felt alive. The rest of the musicians and singers stopped, and Betty's voice rang out, the note carrying clear and bright as a songbird, through the hall. She stilled and the silence seemed to breathe. Everyone held, waiting, as if wondering what to do.

“The army must not pay its bills either,” Betty said, projecting her voice. “What do you think, Dolly? Irene? Should we take up a collection?”

Men's laughter carried around the room.

When the lights still didn't come on a minute later, Betty heard Irene sigh.

“Sorry, I'm afraid we won't be able to go on,” Irene said.

“I can help with that.” The beam from one soldier's flashlight hit the stage near Betty's feet. It was amazing how one little light could do so much to break the darkness.

“Yeah, I can help too.” Another flashlight clicked on, followed by dozens more.

Betty looked to Dolly and Irene, then the band, noticing the large smiles on their faces.

“Okay, boys, I've always been a sucker for spotlights,” Betty said. “What do you think, Wally? Can you take this one from the top?”

“Sure can, Songbird.” With that, the band started. At that moment, it didn't matter that Betty was singing as part of a trio. Or that Frank didn't care for her as she cared for him. She was singing under the light of flashlight beams and to the applause of nearly two thousand men. She was where she was supposed to be. And she knew things were right, really right, because in her heart—for the first time—she felt as if God were right there—clapping along.