“Right,” Norris responded sounding a little less hopeful than he had a moment ago. “The best chance we have of unraveling who Lia belongs to and where her mother might be is through Branka.”
Jolene looked back at the man they’d arrested. “Why did he take the time to dress in women’s clothing?”
“Disguise.” The chief’s wide shoulder lifted and fell against her own. “I guess we’ll find out. Ready?”
Norris opened the door to the tiny interrogation room and allowed Jolene to enter first. Inside the stuffy space, their perp sat at the stainless-steel table centered in the room. His head and shoulders were now bowed low like a heavy weight was yoked to him. Slowly, his head lifted and he stared up at them with red-rimmed eyes. Sorrow filled their dark depths. Mascara trailed down from his dark, moist lashes onto his rose-colored cheeks, making him look like a drag queen who’d walked a city block in a downpour.
Jolene had no pity for him. Anyone who did what he’d done to Lia deserved none.
When he saw them Mark asked, “Where’s Lia? Where’s my little girl?”
“Safe,” Norris answered.
The closing of the door behind them echoed in the room.
Norris acknowledged the cadaver-pale man who sat next to Mark Banka.
Banka had shrieked for an attorney the moment his rights had been read to him. His corporate attorneys appointed a young local lawyer for the time being, until they sorted out the facts and hired a criminal attorney. Apparently the allegations against Mark had them in a state of shock.
With an inexperienced attorney at his side, Norris and Jolene were going to push the rules as far as they could to learn the truth about Mark and about the identity of Lia’s mother.
“Where are you keeping her? I need to see her,” Mark pleaded, clutching the table’s edge.
“That’s not possible at the moment. You have my word, she’s safe.”
Mark slid his gaze to her and his upper lip curled. “You have her. Don’t you? She’s not your daughter. She’s mine.”
Jolene remained silent, thinking if Lia had been hers, the girl would never be mistreated.
Norris pulled Jolene’s chair back from the table and they took their seats.
Staring at the man sitting across from her, furry stirred in Jolene’s gut. Her sharp inhale of the stale air was hidden by the scrape of her chair as she scooted it forward. She had to remain calm and collected and not let her personal feelings surface during this interview. Over the last week she had become very fond of Lia. They needed to nail this bastard, so he’d never harm her again.
Keeping calm, Jolene looked directly at him. “Mr. Branka—”
“Miss Branka,” the man snapped, cutting her off. “My name is Miss Martha Branka.”
Anger, frustration and even sadness suddenly inundated his glare. His chin lifted higher and he reached up with his handcuffed hands to his shoulder and apparently reached for the auburn hair that was no longer there. “I am not Mark.”
Branka’s head lowered again, pressing his chin to his chest while his attorney whispered in his ear. Branka gave the impression he was becoming submissive but the way his glare remained dark and glued on her, Jolene’s muscles remained taut.
Jolene glanced at Norris whose narrowed eyes were fixed on Branka. His Adam’s apple slid below his collar before he relaxed back in his chair. He flipped open the file sitting on the table in front of him and without exhibiting another sign of surprise he spoke in a calm tone, “You’re Martha Branka?”
Branka’s gaze shifted to Norris. Immediately, his tongue peeked out and swept over his lips.
By the slight sway of his body, Jolene knew without looking under the table the man had crossed his legs at the ankles before he demurely placed his hands on the table and smiled. He acted like a woman interested in the man sitting before her. What was Branka’s game?
“Yes. That’s my name,” Mark responded sweetly.
“Sister to Mark Branka?” Norris asked again to make it clear the man understood what he asked.
“Yes.”
Jolene saw Mark’s attorney shift uncomfortably in his seat, edging away from his client.
Norris leaned forward and took a second to read from the file. The silence comprising the five seconds weighed on all of them.
Without lifting his bowed head, the chief studied the accused. “Your mother is Dinah Branka and your father was Matthew Branka?”
“Yes. I’m their daughter. Mark’s my twin brother.”
Norris cleared his throat and then tapped the paper in front of him. “Our records indicate Martha Branka was stillborn and is buried in Saint Paul’s cemetery in New London.”
Branka’s penciled-in eye brow drew upward. “Your records are incorrect. As you can see, I’m sitting right in front of you. Flesh. Blood. Bone.”
This ludicrous game Branka played wasted time, Jolene thought. “You really expe—"
Probably sensing she was about to pounce on the man for his ridiculous claim to be his dead sister, Norris stopped her from standing by slipping a hand under the table and pressed down on her thigh. Her hot glare met the chief’s cool one and immediately she was reminded she’d get more from Branka with sugar than threats to tear his throat out. She sat back and clamped her lips tight and watched Mark’s body language carefully.
“If you’re Martha. Where’s Mark?” Norris asked quietly.
Branka leaned back on the chair. The handcuffs scraped against the table top when he dropped his hands to his lap. His smile turned devilishly wicked. “He’s locked away in hell.”
There. Jolene swallowed hard before she realized she had. Now Mark’s eyes didn’t only look cold, they shimmered with malice. Norris must’ve seen the depth of darkness in them before and that was why he’d stopped her from calling the man crazy a few seconds earlier.
She’d seen hatred, greed, lust and every degree of desire to inflect pain in the eyes of men who didn’t deserve to ever walk free, but never had she seen the madness that was in this man’s eyes. Was Mark Branka truly insane or was he a great actor?
Jolene placed her arms on the table, leaning forward. “And exactly where is he locked away?”
Branka’s impish glare cut her way. “Close but not close enough for anyone to hear you when you scream out for help. It’s the place he’s kept me for years.”
Norris asked, “Is Mark here in this room?”
“I guess you could say he is.”
“Can Mark hear us?” Jolene asked calmly.
Mark moved his head slowly to the side and back, once as if listening for something. “No.”
“Why not?” she continued, appearing to be very interested.
“Because I won’t let him.”
The amused smile on Mark’s lips caused a shiver to crawl up her spine.
“Can he hear you?” Norris took the lead again, drawing Mark’s attention.
“If I speak to him.”
“Can I speak to him?”
“No.”
Norris arched a brow. “Why not?”
Mark’s mouth pinched into a hard line. “Because I won’t go back there.”
The air in the room seemed to sizzle. So much so, they could almost hear the snap, the pop, the zap that might cause a person’s heart to stop momentarily. Even Mark’s attorney felt it. He rose cautiously from his seat and backed away from his client until the wall stopped his retreat. The young man looked as if he might piss in his pants. Jolene couldn’t blame him one bit.
Mark remained so still even his chest didn’t rise with a breath.
Unflinching, Norris held the man’s flat stare. “Okay. I understand.”
Jolene tapped Norris’ arm. “Can I speak to you a moment, Chief? Outside.”
They rose. Mark’s attorney left a wide berth around the table and followed them until Norris stopped him at the door. “Stay with your client.”
Jolene recognized the lawyer’s move as a reach for freedom... Norris shut the door in his face.
<
br /> Norris rounded on her and swept a hand through his thick hair. His calm temperament evaporated. “Do you think he’s acting?”
His perplexed expression revealed he’d never faced a psychopath with multiple personality disorder before—if Mark Branka were indeed crazy. She still wasn’t convinced the man wasn’t just jerking them around.
Jolene had to give Norris credit for remaining composed while he’d spoken to Branka. The first time she’d run into someone who was certifiably loony she’d nearly blown her cover to get the hell away from the girl.
She pushed away the memories and focused on the present.
“I don’t know.” She barely shook her head while wrapping her arms over her chest. “He’s pretty damn convincing.”
“How do we find out?”
Thinking on the answer to that, Jolene crossed to the two-way mirror while Norris continued to guard the door.
Inside the room, Mark’s attorney remained by the door keeping a watchful eye on his client.
Mark had his handcuffed wrists laced behind his head. He pressed his forearms against his temples as if he were in tremendous pain. With eyes squeezed shut, his lips moved quickly. She’d bet silently too, because his lawyer didn’t appear to hear him.
“Lia is the key.” She turned to Norris. “He took her. He dumped her in a little raft on the ocean. Then he snatched her again. He has to have reasons why he did it at all. Whether he’s insane or not, we need to find out where Lia came from. And where her mother is. We need to press him. Hard. If he truly thinks he’s Martha then we’ll need to get an expert in here ASAP, and if he is toying with us, we might get him to slip up.”
“Okay.” Norris crossed over to her and also watched Mark through the glass. “He saw you in the park with Lia. He seemed threatened by you, like you were trying to replace him as Lia’s mother. You’re the trigger that will set him off.”
“You might be right.”
“You okay with this?”
Jolene knew her uneasiness showed so took a deep breath to help her pull it together for Lia’s sake. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Norris touched her shoulder and squeezed. “I’ll be right beside you.”
“Let’s do this.”
Mark’s attorney remained by the door after they reentered and took their seats.
Norris looked at the young attorney and pointed at the empty chair next to Branka.
Once the man slid onto his chair, Jolene said calmly, “Lia is a wonderful kid. I’m sure her mother misses her.”
“I’m her mother.”
“If you’re her mother, why would you try to kill her?”
Metal clashed against metal when Branka slapped the table. His teeth gnashed together, but somehow, he muttered, “I never did such a thing.”
Jolene latched onto his wild stare. “It was a miracle I spied her on the ocean. You know the Atlantic. She was just a speck in the water. She almost floated out to sea.”
Branka jumped forward in his chair, his fingers scraping the tabletop before curling into fists. “Mark did that to her. I love Lia with all my heart.”
“Mark, huh?” She chuckled under her breath, hoping to infuriate him enough that he’d trip up. He didn’t take the bait.
“Yes. Mark,” Branka answered in the same bereaved tone.
“You really expect me to believe you’re not Mark, playing us?” she pressed. “You look like a man dressed in women’s clothing. Why?”
“Am not a man. I am a woman. I’m Lia’s mother.”
It was Jolene’s turn to slap the table. “No. You’re not. Where is Lia’s mother?”
Branka’s red lips sealed.
Jolene sighed. “Okay. You want me to believe you’re Martha.”
“I am Martha.”
“And you’ve been caring for Lia?”
He bowed his head. “Yes.”
She tilted her head slightly, wanting to see Branka’s eyes. “You love her?”
“Yes.”
“Then how could you let Mark dump Lia into the ocean? You said he was the one who did it, right?”
A tear rolled down Branka’s cheek. “He locked me away. I couldn’t stop him.”
“Like you’ve trapped him now?”
“Yes.” Branka swept the tears away with the back of his hands.
Jolene licked her lips. Branka seemed frail, but she knew how cunning he had to be to pull off what he had done. She didn’t want to piss him off and shut him down if he was deranged and truly thought he was Martha. She wanted the truth. “How do you lock him away and control him?”
Martha looked toward the tiled ceiling and inhaled. “I can’t explain it.”
“So why did he try to kill Lia?” Norris asked quietly.
Mark looked at the chief.
“We want to understand.” Norris’ expression was a picture of sincerity and sympathy.
“He didn’t mean to harm her. He only wanted someone to find her...”
“Why?” Jolene asked.
“Because he said Lia wasn’t mine.”
Jolene let a second pass before she spoke. “But you just told us she was.”
“She is now.”
“What do you mean, now?”
The sound of four people breathing kept silence at bay in the small enclosed area while Branka chewed on his bottom lip.
Jolene lay her hands on the table, palms down and spoke softly, “We know Lia isn’t your daughter. Where did you find her, Martha?”
Tears spilled down Mark’s cheeks. “Her mother didn’t want her. Lia was crying. The woman ignored her. She was too busy shopping.”
Norris leaned forward and keeping his voice even and calm asked, “Where was she shopping, Martha?”
“Obor Market.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Norris glanced at her. He questioned if she recognized the market Branka mentioned. She shook her head.
“I’ve never heard of the place. What city or town is it in?”
Mark raised his eyes to meet the chief’s and then shifted them to her. “Bucharest, Romania.”
Norris exhaled. He dropped back on his chair and looked at her, dipping his head. They had their answer to where they would find Lia’s family.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Sitting in the Dulles airport, listening to the boarding calls for departing International flights, Jolene smoothed back the girl’s soft curls. Lia had been identified as Belinda Ferenc. She’d been abducted by Martha, aka Mark, from her mother Aleksandra Ferenc, then age seventeen, while Aleksandra was working her family’s stand in the Obor marketplace. Mark, or Martha at the time of abduction, had brought Belinda into the United States via his private jet, first landing in Canada and then in a small airport in North Dakota.
It took only a week to locate Aleksandra who traveled the countryside with her family selling their wares. The American Consulate working with the Romania government, located her in Kosice Region. Belinda’s father was listed as unknown. Apparently, an English tourist from the United Kingdom.
From the reports Jolene read, Belinda’s family lived day to day. They had little material wealth but they had family and love. Aleksandra contacted the authorities who were in charge of her daughter’s case every opportunity she had.
Through a translator, Jolene had spoken with her and the woman seemed truly joyous that her baby had been found and that Belinda was coming home to her.
For now, Mark Branka was being evaluated for mental competency before a trial commenced. He sat safely behind bars.
For him, this nightmare started months prior to Jolene finding Lia drifting in the boat lane, when his father died. Feeling he needed to tell his mother of his father’s passing, he’d gone to see her. She’d been admitted into a psychiatric hospital twenty-years prior for claiming Mark had died in childbirth and his twin Martha had lived. The woman had made Mark, as a child, act and dress as Martha whenever Mark’s father was away from home.
Through therapy Mark had suppressed the se
cond identity his mother’s abuse had inflicted on him, but the moment Mark faced her again, Martha had gained control. It had taken him months to fight his way back from the dark hole—and that was when he discovered Lia.
During his interrogation he stated he’d no recall of how she was kidnapped or brought to his seaside home. Apparently, she’d been living at his house for a while and he felt no one would believe him that he hadn’t known about her or that he hadn’t brought her there himself.
Later that night, while he slept, he heard Martha call the girl’s name. He knew he had to leave the child somewhere so he took her to the beach the next morning, before Martha had an opportunity to resurface. He’d hoped someone would find the girl and return her to her family. He hadn’t meant to harm her.
Thinking about his interview caused Jolene to shiver. She swiped her hands over her arms and tugged on her light sweater, the one she wore whenever she flew.
The speakers overhead crackled. “International flight R-743 to Paris will begin boarding at Gate B-7 in three minutes.”
With a sigh and mumbling under her breath, Jolene stood up from the hard-plastic chair and stretched her back before picking up her and Lia’s carry-on bags.
The counter attendant’s voice rose over the terminal’s din while she repeated the announcement for the final call of the first leg of their trip. A trip she’d volunteered for—not wanting to hand Lia off to yet another stranger. A trip arranged by FBI Special Agent Carter.
From Paris they would fly into Henri Coanda International Airport in Bucharest where they would meet with Lia’s family at the American Embassy.
Disappointment that Norris had not shown up to say goodbye added to the weight the carry-ons exerted on her shoulder while she searched the faces of the hundreds of people who raced through the D.C. terminal. She hadn’t really expected to see him—they were beyond the security check after all—but she’d harbored hope she’d see his smile one last time.
He’d promised her he would say goodbye to the little girl before she was returned to her mother. Also, the last three days since Branka’s capture had been a whirlwind and they had a lot of unspoken words hanging between them. They’d had no time to talk about their feelings for each other or if there would be a future for them. She’d no clue when, or if, they would speak again, since she was to fly to her home base in Pennsylvania when she returned. She didn’t expect to return to Cape James any time soon. She had a career of her own. One she loved.
Loved by Darkness Page 24
