The Becić Connection

by Estelle Ryan

  His head swivelled back to me, his shoulders relaxed and he exhaled heavily in relief. “Jenny.”

  I blinked at the genuine fear that had flashed across his face. It had been stark. Disturbing. I put my hand over his. “Are you well?”

  He huffed a humourless laugh. “I’m fine. Now, I’m fine. Dear God, love. I was so worried.”

  “Motherfucker!” Vinnie shouted another stream of obscenities at Florian and stormed away. He turned around and noticed me watching him. A micro-expression of relief was immediately replaced by more anger. He stomped to us, shaking a fist at me. “Never again, Jen-girl. Do you hear me? You will never go anywhere without one of us by your side. Never!”

  “Vin.” Colin’s hand tightened on my forearm.

  I patted his hand awkwardly and shook my head, not taking my eyes off Vinnie. “It’s okay. Vinnie was... no, is worried.”

  “You bet your bottom fucking dollar I’m worried. Fuck!” Vinnie grabbed his head with both hands, breathing heavily. “Do you have any idea what it was like to hear you scream? Then him”—Vinnie glared at Colin—“shouting for help? Do you?”

  I shook my head.

  Manny walked over and put his hand on Vinnie’s shoulder. “She’s fine, big guy.”

  Vinnie shuddered and took a ragged breath, his jaw tight. He looked at Manny for two seconds and nodded. Manny squeezed his shoulder once, then shoved both hands in his trouser pockets. Vinnie looked at Colin, then at me. “Next time, punch the bad guy, would ya?”

  I reeled back in horror and turned to Colin. “I punched you?”

  Colin’s expression relaxed for the first time since I’d come to, his smile genuine. He touched his jaw. “You have quite the right hook there, Doctor Lenard.”

  Manny and Vinnie snorted. This was not amusing at all. I didn’t like seeing the humour in Colin’s face. How could I have lashed out at him? “I’m so s—”

  Colin held up his hand to stop me, the humour leaving his face. “No. Don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong, Jenny. It was a crazy few moments. There’s nothing to apologise for. All that matters is that you’re safe.”

  “And that motherfucker is not going anywhere.” Vinnie glared over his shoulder at Florian.

  I turned my attention back to Colin. He sat patiently for a minute while I studied him. Only when I was completely assured that I didn’t see any resentment for having punched him did I relax. I pulled my shoulders back and tried to stand up, but my legs were not cooperating. I sighed and looked back at Colin. “How long?”

  “About forty minutes.” He got up and held his hand out to me.

  I glanced at his dusty hand and looked down at myself. My trousers were dirty, my boots scuffed and when I turned my hands over, I shuddered. There was dirt under my nails. I couldn’t remember my hands ever being this dirty. I swallowed and put my hand in Colin’s.

  Getting up was awkward, but only became painful when my blood circulation was completely restored. The pins and needles in my feet and lower legs were most uncomfortable. I shifted from one foot to the other and looked at Florian. His posture communicated complete defeat. “What did he say?”

  “Bloody nothing.” Manny’s nostrils flared.

  I didn’t always understand neurotypical answers. Sometimes ‘nothing’ meant nothing important, but he might have said some things. Sometimes ‘nothing’ meant not a word. I needed clarity. “Is he refusing to answer questions?”

  “Yes,” Manny answered through tight lips.

  “He didn’t say anything about the Collector?”

  “Are you not listening, missy?” Manny turned completely towards me. “That arsehole hasn’t said a word since Colin beat the holy hell out of him.”

  I took a step back and looked at Colin again. My glance lowered to his hands. His knuckles were bruised and a few were scraped.

  There was no remorse in his expression. “I did what was needed.”

  A surprisingly idealistic part of me wished violence was never needed. That logical discourse ended all conflict. But if I’d learned anything the last few years it was that there was no black and white in life.

  “Wait. What Collector?” Manny leaned towards me. “What the bleeding hell did that man say to you, Doc?”

  I closed my eyes for a second, not wanting to recall those moments of sheer terror. On a shaky inhale, I looked at them. “He said that it was all our fault. Or mine. His exact words were, ‘You’ve killed them’, ‘it’s all your fault,’ ‘now I can’t stop the Collector’, and ‘they’re going to die’.”

  “The fuck?” Vinnie turned to stare at Florian. “What does that mean?”

  “Who’s this Collector?” Manny looked at Colin.

  “I don’t know.” His hand tightened around mine when my eyes widened. I didn’t know what he didn’t want to reveal, but he definitely knew something about this Collector.

  Manny glared at Colin for a few seconds, then turned and walked back to where Luka was silently watching Florian. A few steps later, Manny stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. “Well? Do you need a written invitation, missy?”

  Colin’s sigh was heavy. “You’re such an incredible jackass, Millard.”

  Manny only lifted one eyebrow and waited. He knew that his rudeness would settle me. I didn’t like that it did, but for now I was grateful for it.

  I took Colin’s hand firmly in mine. This event had really shaken him and I was at a loss how to deal with it. So I did the only thing I could think of. I pulled him along as I followed Manny. “I’m okay.”

  “Well, I’m not.” Colin squeezed my hand, but followed me.

  Manny had stopped next to Luka and both of them moved to the side so I could stand in front of Florian. He was sitting cross-legged on the concrete, his hands cuffed behind him. His lip was bloody, a bruise was deepening its colour on his left cheekbone and his right eyebrow was slightly swollen and also discoloured.

  His shoulders were hunched over so much, I was sure that his arms would’ve been wrapped around his torso in a full-body hug had he not been handcuffed. He was staring at the concrete by his feet, his chin wobbling, his breathing erratic. His colourfully embroidered silk shirt was dirty, one of the sleeves torn.

  I studied his nonverbal cues. They were familiar. I recognised the signs of a looming mental breakdown. I didn’t know if he was neurotypical or how such a breakdown would present in his case. What I did know was that he needed a compassionate approach.

  Manny and Vinnie were never my first option for such a method. Usually, I would leave this to the capable hands of Phillip or Daniel. In their absence, Colin would be a perfect alternative. But the antagonism broadcasting from his body language disqualified him.

  That left me. I was still shaken from my shutdown as well as the fear of Florian grabbing me. I could only hope that I would manage to recall how Phillip and Daniel did so well with people in distress.

  I lowered myself onto my haunches in front of Florian and took a moment to school my expression and control my voice to be gentle. “I can see that you are scared. No... terrified. Am I correct to conclude that kidnapping Nikki and Martin and now grabbing me was motivated by your fear?”

  Florian swallowed, a strong shudder rolling through his body so hard, I almost missed his subtle nod.

  “I thought so.” I sat down in front of him, mirroring his position, but not his cues of fear. I made sure my body language conveyed confidence, kindness and lack of threat. I waited a few seconds until I saw his breathing even out a bit. “You mentioned the Collector.”

  Another shudder shook him and his breathing again became shallow and ragged.

  Luka inhaled, but Manny cut him off with a low grunt. I didn’t look at them and was grateful for Manny’s intervention. It wouldn’t take much to push Florian over the edge. I softened my tone even more. “You’re in fear for your own life. Hmm. It’s more than that. Who is the Collector threatening?”

  “Sister.” The word sounded like it was forcefully pus
hed through his tight throat. His eyes stretched wide, giving him a wild, panicked look. “She’s all I have.”

  “Why not go to the police?” Luka’s question was quiet, but it affected Florian as if it had been a vicious demand.

  Florian’s entire body shook in fear and he started laughing, hysteria making the laughter sound manic. “He has people everywhere. No one has seen him, but he sees everyone. They know. Everyone knows.” He started rocking back and forth. “He kills. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.” He repeated the last phrase over and over, his voice tight and high. He grunted a few times and his chin dropped to his chest. “My heart. I’m dying. My heart.”

  I shuffled back. I wasn’t qualified to make a diagnosis, but he was more likely to be experiencing a panic attack than a cardiac episode. I looked at Luka. “He needs medical assistance.”

  Luka walked to the edge of the roof and shouted at someone below. Florian was now shaking uncontrollably until he lost control of his muscles and fell over onto his side. My own heart rate and breathing had increased in empathy.

  Colin touched my shoulder and held out his hand to pull me up. I took his hand and then followed him a few steps away from where Manny and Vinnie were looking dispassionately at Florian’s shuddering figure.

  The Croatian medical team came rushing up the stairs and I turned my back on the activity. I was still coming back from sensory overload and didn’t want to add any more stimuli.

  Colin stood next to me, his body language familiar. He was taking cues from me, ready to give me what I needed. Yet his own distress was clear. On impulse, I blurted, “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “Do what, love?” He took both my hands in his.

  I pulled one hand free and pointed at his face, twirling a finger for emphasis. “Make you feel better.”

  He grabbed my finger, kissed it and then pulled me closer until our foreheads touched. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “This is all I need.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. I stood frozen for a second, then put my arms around him and rested my head on his shoulder. His embrace was tighter than usual, but I allowed it. Being in his arms never overwhelmed me or brought on any panic. It was no hardship.

  I listened to his breathing and felt his muscles slowly relax. The medical personnel were talking in Croatian and I heard Luka’s deep voice a few times as well. Manny and Vinnie were talking about Florian, but their voices were further away and I only caught a few words.

  Our quiet moment was interrupted by the ringing of Colin’s phone. I felt the slight vibration where my body was touching his trouser pocket. Colin ignored it, but with every ring, my muscles and mind became tenser. Until I couldn’t tolerate it anymore. “Please answer that.”

  Colin chuckled and moved away. He took his phone from his trouser pocket and kissed my nose. Great relief settled in my chest. His nonverbal cues indicated that he was calm, composed.

  His eyebrows rose and he swiped the phone screen. “Bree, you’re on speakerphone with me and Jenny.”

  “Hey, Colin. Are you okay? You sound strange. Genevieve, why don’t you answer your phone? Are you okay? You should always carry your phone with you. Did you leave it somewhere far again?” She finally waited for an answer.

  “My phone is in the SUV.” She was right. I should’ve brought it with me. “Why did you phone?”

  She laughed softly. “To the point. Right. I’m in my car now. With the source I told you about. She agreed to meet you.”

  Both Colin and I straightened.

  “That’s great, Bree,” Colin said. “I’ll send you our address in Rovinj. Please tell your source she’ll be safe with us.”

  “Okey-dokey.” Bree lowered her voice. “Look after yourselves, okay?”

  “Okey-dokey.” Colin smiled when Bree chuckled.

  She said a final goodbye and ended the call. Colin waved at Manny and Vinnie to get their attention. Manny nodded and the two started walking towards us. Colin inhaled deeply. “We’ll tell Millard and Vin, and then we’ll head back.”

  Chapter SIXTEEN

  “GENEVIEVE!” BREE STEPPED past Vinnie and walked into the living area of the villa. She was wearing three-quarter-length brown trousers, four layers of colourful long-sleeve t-shirts and tank tops and a bright orange scarf. And a deep green fedora. Behind her followed a petite woman in her mid- to late fifties, looking very hesitant.

  Bree stopped in front of me, her smile wide and genuine. Her desire to hug me was clear in her nonverbal cues. Instead she held out her fist. For a very short while I’d thought fist bumps were absurd, but I’d quickly grown to appreciate their value. They were an excellent alternative to hugs and even handshakes.

  I touched my closed fist to hers. Instead of a quick fist bump, Bree pushed her fist lightly against mine for a few moments. Then she blinked, dropped her fist and smiled at the woman waiting awkwardly. “Come closer, Mira. Everyone, this is Professor Mira Przkalo.”

  “Just Mira.” The professor didn’t offer a handshake or a fist bump, but smiled at Bree when the latter raised her eyebrows in a question. “No, Bree. You still didn’t pronounce my surname right.”

  “Blast it!” Bree rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’m going to keep trying. I’ve got to get that right.”

  “Croatian names can be tricky.” Luka stood up from where he’d been sitting at the dining room table.

  Bree narrowed her eyes at him. Then she looked at Zork next to Luka, still sitting. Her gaze went around the room until she looked back at Mira. She shook her index finger at me. “I trust Genevieve with my life. If she trusts all these people, then we’re golden.”

  “So you said.” Mira’s accent was similar to Luka’s—subtle, but there. She appeared completely comfortable speaking English. She looked at me. “Forgive my distrust.”

  “Nothing to forgive.” Colin was standing next to me and gestured at the laden dining room table. “Vin cooked lunch and we were just about to start. Please join us.”

  “Vinnie!” Bree’s smile grew. “Oh, Mira, you have to taste that man’s godly food.”

  Vinnie’s cheeks reddened until the scar running down his cheek stood out. “Keep on flattering me.” He nodded towards the oven. “I have a surprise for you.”

  “Muffins?” She rushed over to the oven and looked through the glass. “Muffins! Be still, my beating heart.”

  Vinnie shook his head and put another colourful salad bowl on the table. Early morning, he’d prepared two large quiches—one chicken and the other vegetarian spinach and mushroom. He had warmed them up when we’d arrived ten minutes ago. In addition, three salads, all in colourful ceramic bowls, took up all the available space on the table. The sweet smell of the muffins filled the room. It created a very homey atmosphere.

  Bree continued to greet the rest of our team and was gracious but reserved greeting Luka and Zork. Bruno hadn’t joined us for lunch, but Zork had been waiting impatiently for Vinnie to serve the quiche. Each time he’d asked how much longer it would take, Vinnie’s chest had pushed out a bit more.

  I sat down next to Colin and took a controlled breath. This large open-space living area allowed for this many people to gather around the table without making it feel crowded. But I was still sensitive to stimuli after this afternoon. It was with effort that I dished up and didn’t give in to the urge to retreat to my room.

  Instead, I forced myself to enjoy the lunch and observe everyone. It didn’t take too long to realise that Bree was making nonsensical small talk to put Mira at ease. She was also analysing Luka and Zork. I wondered what her conclusions were.

  I turned my attention to the professor. A small slice of the chicken quiche and an equally small helping of the cucumber salad took up space on her plate. She pushed the food around, her expression showing no interest in the meal. The laughter lines on her face indicated a happiness that wasn’t evident now. Dark circles under her eyes and the tightness around her eyes and mouth were only two of many
clues to her fear and distress.

  “Enough.” Manny knocked on the table and looked at Professor Mira Przkalo when she jerked in her seat. “My apologies, Professor. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m also sorry to push, but we are on the clock and need to know what you know.”

  “Mira, please.” She looked at Bree.

  “Tell them.” Bree put her hand on Mira’s shoulder and rubbed it. “Everything.”

  Mira inhaled and lifted her chin. She looked at Manny. “I worked with Professor Radja for many years. Goran Radja.” She swallowed, her hands wringing on her lap. “We were friends. But I never knew he had a brother. Not until that night. I’ll tell you everything, but I don’t want my name to appear in any official report.”

  “Agreed.” Manny raised an eyebrow at Luka when both Luka and Zork shifted in their seats. “We need this information more than we need to reveal the source.” He looked back at Mira. “Continue.”

  Her eyes shifted up and left. “We often worked late. Both of us. Like me, Goran liked the quiet late-night hours. We’d usually take a break around eleven PM, have a glass of brandy or whiskey, depending on who was pouring. Then we’d get back to work for another hour or so. That night, I entered his office like I always did through the other door.”

  “The other door?” Luka’s tone was quiet, his expression gentle.

  “Yes. Everyone used the door from the hallway to get to his secretary’s small office. From there they’d enter his office. But the building is old and there is a door in his office that leads to a small closet that is now used for storage. That closet has another door that opens into the copy room.”

  “Forgive me for saying so, but that sounds very secretive.” Nikki put her knife and fork on her empty plate.

  “It was.” She closed her eyes for a few seconds. “Three years ago, the university suffered a terrible scandal.”

  “Sex scandal.” Bree’s eyes were bright with delight as she glanced at Francine. It was clear that she had to practise restraint not to share everything with Francine. Both of them loved even the hint of a scandal.