Chapter 2
She couldn’t stop the tears now. Tears of frustration, humiliation, and exhaustion from her long flights just to get to Vienna. What does one do in a situation like this? No phone, no money, no passport, no nothing! Was this what it felt like to be homeless?
She thought of her father. She could ask him for help, but the last time they’d talked, while she was in Hong Kong, he’d excitedly explained his own vacation plans.
His summer break had begun last week, and his best teacher friends, Mike and Brad, were just starting out on what they hoped would be their final trek on the Pacific Crest Trail.
They’d been going at it for two summers now and hoped to finish up in Canada by August. More than likely he would be out of cell phone reach by now. Not that she could call him.
With one last hopeless look down the street, she remembered the friendly American barista in the coffee shop, but when she tried the door, it was locked with a Geschlossen sign hanging in the window.
Closed. She peeked over the geraniums to spy lights still on, and the blonde barista counting out the till.
In desperation, balancing the coffee tray in one hand, Meredith knocked on the window until the blonde finally came over to see who was making the commotion.
Meredith mouthed the word “help.” The barista, who bore a furrowed brow, unlocked the door, let her inside, then relocked it. “What’s going on?”
Fresh tears sprung out and, between sobs, Meredith poured out the story. “It was all in my pack and I—I—have nothing,” she gasped. “No credit card—no traveler’s checks—no train pass—no passport—nothing!”
“You need to sit down.” The blonde removed the tray, which was about to spill anyway, setting it on a table then pulling out a stool. “Everything was in their car?” she asked Meredith. “Everything?”
Meredith used one of the napkins to wipe her face.
“Haven’t you ever heard of a money belt?”
“I have one,” Meredith confessed. “In—in my backpack!” Now she was crying again.
“Oh, man. I’ve heard of that happening. In fact, a lot lately. But I never can figure out how anyone could be so stupid as to let a stranger take all their stuff like that.”
“I know. So stupid. I feel like the village idiot—but I believed her. The woman—seemed so—so nice.”
“I bet she did. Scammers are always nice…and smooth.” The barista laid a hand on Meredith’s arm. “And you’re not stupid. I shouldn’t have said that.” She smiled and pointed to her name tag. “I’m Faith Reynolds. Who are you?”
“Meredith…Cardwell.” She blew her nose. “I’m from the West Coast too. Oregon.”
“Well then, welcome to Vienna.” Faith’s tone was laced with cynicism as she grimly shook her head. “Sorry about that. It’s really an amazing city. With a lot of good people. You just got seriously unlucky.”
“What do I do now?”
“Go to the US Consulate.” Faith frowned. “The bad news is the consulate closes at four on Friday and won’t open again until Monday at eight.”
“Does that mean there’s good news?”
Faith grinned. “There is. My aunt works at the consulate.”
“Well, that sounds helpful…but not until Monday morning.” Meredith slowly shook her head then pointed to the tray of coffee and pastries. “I’ll have to survive on that…and the streets…until then.”
“There’s more good news,” Faith told her. “I live with my aunt. And I’m sure she won’t mind having you stay with us until Monday. Her flat’s pretty small, though, and you may have to sleep on the floor. I have the pullout sofa in the living room.”
“That’s okay,” Meredith told her. “Better than the streets.”
“Right, unless Aunt Carrie can come up with another plan.” Faith glanced back at the counter. “I still need to close out the till, but then we can go. The owner is in back, and he’ll finish closing.” She tapped the little white bag. “May as well eat those. We’re known for our strudel.”
“So I’ve heard.”
While Faith finished with the till and wiping down the counters, Meredith munched on the strudel.
It was probably better than it tasted, but in her present state, she couldn’t say.
When it was time to go, Meredith felt like she’d been run over by a truck and was still numb from shock.
Faith took it in stride as she guided Meredith onto the crowded tram, handled her fare, and led her to a seat in the back.
“Thanks,” Meredith mumbled. “I feel like a zombie right now.” She explained a bit about teaching first grade in a rural country for the past couple years, her recent long flights and layovers, and general lack of sleep. “I think I have brain fog.”
“You’re probably in shock. Why not lean back and try to relax.”
“Uh-huh.” A small part of her wanted to look out the window and witness the city sights passing by, but mostly she was exhausted and wasn’t sure she even cared.
This entire trip seemed like a giant mistake.
A catastrophic mess that wouldn’t easily clean up.
But what was the point of obsessing? She took a few calming breaths, shut her eyes, and tried to block it all out.
Maybe she’d been asleep, or maybe she was in a shocked stupor, but when she opened her eyes, she was being nudged and urged to stand up. “This is our stop,” the woman next to her said.
“Oh?” Meredith stood, still groggy from her nap.
She stared at the blonde who was headed for the door then remembered Faith, the barista.
She jumped to attention and followed her just as the tram stopped and the door slid open.
Following Faith out, she looked around, trying to get her bearings and wondering how long they’d been on the tram.
They were still in the city, but it looked more modern with what appeared to be tall apartment buildings.
Faith hitched a strap of a bag over her shoulder. Meredith hadn’t even noticed it before. “It’s about a mile from here, give or take,” she said.
“Okay.” Meredith fell into step with her.
They walked a good while in silence before Faith looked over at her again. “How are you doing?”
“I’m still kinda numb. This is all pretty surreal.”
“Yeah, I bet. Well, Carrie should be home by now. She usually gets there before me. We take turns cooking. It’s mine tonight.” She patted the bulging canvas bag. “Provisions here.”
“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 na?ve 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 facade. 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.”
“You just told me you had almost four thousand dollars’ worth of traveler’s checks.
Believe me, scammers know how to cash those in.
As well as your Eurail pass and passport.
Not to mention your credit card. In fact, we should put a stop to that right now.
You’d be shocked at how quickly they can put those to use. ”
“But I don’t know the number.” Meredith thought about Dad. What would he say if he got stuck with a huge bill?
“No worries. The company should be able to pull it up for us.” Carrie reached for her phone. “Is it a Visa or what?”
“Visa.”
Faith came in and, flopping into an armchair, gave Meredith a weak smile. “It’s a mess for sure, but I told you my aunt would know what to do.”
“Good that it’s Visa.” Carrie pulled out her own Visa card from her wallet, looking for the customer service number on the back. “At least they cover fraud like this. They may already be on it.” She started to dial. “I’ll get this started and then you talk to them.”
After a rather lengthy conversation with Visa, Carrie asked Meredith about her own phone. “Of course, the crooks will sell it too, wipe it clean. But if there’s tracking on it, the police might be able to use it. What’s the number?”
Meredith told her. “It’s just a cheap phone. I was worried I could lose it.” A surge of panic ran through her. “But it had phone numbers in the directory. Like my dad’s. I don’t even know his number.” She felt a lump in her throat. “Although he’s doing the PCT this summer.”
Carrie frowned. “The PCT?”
“Pacific Crest Trail.” She explained how he and two teacher buddies had done it in stages and hoped this would be the last one. “I think they’re somewhere in Oregon. Probably out of connectivity anyway.”
“What about your mom?”
“Her mom’s dead,” Faith contributed.
“Sorry.” Carrie winced. “Anyone who can wire you money? Grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends?”
Meredith felt sick inside. It had always just been her and dad. Pretty bleak to admit. “I, uh, I can’t think of anyone right now. But I’ll try.” Her dad seemed a million miles away. And she felt more alone than ever.
“Well, the consulate may be able to help.” Carrie frowned.
“The trickiest thing will be waiting for your passport, which may be sold by now. These creeps are well networked and work fast. I’m guessing you were one of many victims. For all we know, your Louise and Hans could’ve raked in a hundred grand today. ”
“You’re kidding! In one day?”
“Think how quickly they fleeced you, Meredith. And what they got from you could be worth as much as ten thousand.”
“But I didn’t have that much—”
“You’d be shocked at what a US passport brings in these days.”
“More like sickened.”
Carrie waved her notepad. “I need to get this information to the police. You girls start dinner while I make this call. It’s possible they’ll want to come out and talk to you in person, but I doubt it.” The way Carrie said this last part sounded like a warning for them not to get their hopes up.
As Meredith cleaned veggies for a salad, she felt fairly certain it really was hopeless.
The police would never catch those criminals and retrieve her things, and they probably knew it.
Sure, she was grateful for a place to stay and someone who wanted to help, but what was the point?
She’d been through a lot in life but wasn’t sure she’d ever felt quite this hopeless.
And besides being a stupid fool, what had she done to deserve this?