by Estelle Ryan
“But she never saw you again,” Manny stated.
“No.” Colin shook his head. “I stayed in New York for another four months before I left for Italy.”
“To continue your illustrious criminal career.”
“Which has no bearing on this specific discussion.”
“Don’t get your knickers all twisted up, Frey.” Manny waved his hand to dismiss the thought. “Most of those crimes you committed are way past their statutes of limitations. Unless you killed someone?”
Had I not been one of the top nonverbal communications experts in the world, I would not have caught Colin’s micro-expression of guilt. Sixteen years ago, Colin had broken into a museum’s conservation centre to retrieve a stolen painting. It had been at the beginning of his and Vinnie’s friendship. Vinnie had joined him to keep an eye out for the few security guards who lazily did their rounds.
One of those guards had changed his route and had come across Vinnie. The older gentleman had been so startled by the huge, muscular man, clearly dressed as a burglar, that he’d had a heart attack.
When CPR didn’t revive the old guard, Colin had phoned a detective at Scotland Yard who had been on his trail for a few months already—Manny. Colin had sent Vinnie away and waited for Manny. Once the paramedics had arrived, Manny had taken great pleasure in arresting Colin.
No sooner had they arrived at Scotland Yard than Interpol agents came and told Manny to hand Colin over to them. Manny had been livid and had promised Colin that their paths would cross again one day. Colin had told me this story three times and each time he smiled when he got to the part about their paths crossing. And each time his voice was full of irony as he called Manny his friend.
“Only the guard.” Colin’s face lost colour. “I’m responsible for his death.”
“You didn’t kill him, dude.” The corners of Vinnie’s mouth were turned down. “We’ve been over this many times. I’ve made peace with the fact that the old guy’s heart would’ve given out on him anyways. We were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Colin shook his head and raised one hand. “We’re discussing Olivia, not that.”
“Then discuss this Olivia,” Manny said. “Why are you telling us about this?”
“I saw her in Szentendre yesterday. After you guys left for lunch. I was looking at the artworks in one of the shop windows and when I turned around, there she was.”
“Where were you, Doc?”
“Next to Colin.” I had a lot to add to Colin’s story, but decided to wait for him to recount it his way.
“Did she recognise you?” Francine asked.
“Immediately.” Colin’s hand tightened around mine. “She hasn’t changed much. Her hair is a bit longer and she seems shorter for some reason.”
“She was wearing flat-heeled shoes.”
“Please tell me they weren’t running shoes.” Francine said the last two words while glaring at Roxy. I recognised Francine’s attempt for what it was. She was trying to lighten the atmosphere.
I shook my head. “They were elegant leather shoes.”
“See!” Francine threw both hands in the air. “Beautiful women wear beautiful shoes.”
Roxy pressed her hand against her chest, her expression insincere affection. “You think I’m beautiful.”
Francine tried to control the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth and failed. She winked at Roxy and turned to Colin. “So why are you worried about seeing Olivia? I mean, it could just be coincidence, right?”
Manny made a show of straightening and slowly turned to Francine. “You, the queen of conspiracy theories, used the word ‘coincidence’.” He slumped back in his chair. “The end of the world is nigh.”
“I honestly don’t know what to think.” Colin raised both shoulders and shook his head. “The probability of seeing her in this tiny village in Hungary does seem unlikely. But the stuff Jenny saw is the real issue.”
Everyone turned to me. When I didn’t say anything, Francine snorted. “That’s your cue to continue the story, girlfriend.”
“Oh.” I looked at Colin. His lips were tightly pressed together, his eyes revealing his distress. He nodded and I turned back to the group. “I saw a man watching Olivia.”
Some of the tension left Colin’s face as he chuckled softly. “Tell them everything you saw, love.”
Experience had taught me that ‘everything’ didn’t always mean everything. I took a moment to decide which details of yesterday’s event were pertinent. “While Colin was looking at art in a shop window, I noticed a man sitting at a café trying to appear inconspicuous. He was watching Olivia.”
“Watching like a stalker or like a cop?” Vinnie asked.
“Not a stalker.” I shook my head. “There was a professional interest in the way he was observing her as she walked towards us. But he is only one of the reasons I’m concerned. When Olivia recognised Colin, I saw the typical emotions expected when a person comes across someone who’d caused you pain.” I stopped when both Francine and Roxy cleared their throats and glared at me. I frowned. “What?”
“They think you’re being insensitive, love.” Colin squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry about it. Tell them what you saw.”
“Fear.” Recalling Olivia’s mouth dropping open, her tense lips and the dread around her eyes brought a tightness to my chest. “The kind of fear someone displays when they believe their life is in imminent danger.”
“Before I could ask her anything, a delivery truck behind us made a noise. Jenny and I turned to look at the commotion and when we looked back, Liv had disappeared.”
“And the man watching her?” Manny asked.
“He must have followed her.” Colin looked at the villa door leading to the veranda. The muscle tension on his face relaxed as he smiled. Nikki was walking towards us with Eric on her hip.
She tilted her head when no one said anything. “What’s going on here?”
“Did you pack everything, punk?” Vinnie got up and held out his hands towards Eric. But the baby wasn’t interested. He’d seen me and was leaning forward to get out of Nikki’s arms.
She walked around the table and stopped next to my chair. “Yes, I packed everything. I swear, it’s like packing for seventeen adults. This little monster needs more stuff than I ever did.”
Eric was almost horizontal in his attempt to reach me. I took a few calming breaths and pulled my hand from Colin’s. At Nikki’s enquiring expression, I nodded. “I’ll take him.”
Nikki laughed when Eric almost fell from her arms to get to me. It had taken me weeks before I felt comfortable holding Eric. I wrapped my hands around his ribcage and tried to settle him on my lap. He didn’t want that. He wiggled and turned until I allowed him to face me.
My focus was now completely on the little person in my space. The others were telling Nikki that we’d been discussing our plans for the day once she’d left. She didn’t believe them. I didn’t care. Eric was staring straight at me with an intensity as if he could understand what he saw on my face. Like most non-neurotypicals, I almost never made eye contact and frequently avoided Eric’s curious gazes. Yet now I looked at him looking at me.
He wiggled to get closer and I relented, bringing him eye level with me, making sure he wasn’t close enough to put his mouth on me. The one time that happened, Colin had barely caught him in time when I’d gone in a total shutdown from the hot, wet saliva on my cheek. A small smile pulled at my mouth as I analysed the relaxed muscles around his eyes and mouth. He was happy and felt safe. A familiar warm feeling spread in my chest.
Eric opened his chubby hands and rested one on each of my cheeks. He lowered his head and I pulled away. A small frown marred his previously happy expression. I scowled at his mouth. “No kisses. No kisses.”
His corrugator supercilii muscles pulled his eyebrows even closer and I sighed. Hoping irrationally that he’d understood my repeated order, I moved closer. Immediately the muscles around his eyes and mo
uth relaxed once again. Not taking his eyes off me, he leaned forward and rested his forehead on mine, our eyes only two centimetres or so apart.
I froze. Eric was a social baby and loved physical contact with everyone around the table. Yet there was something unique about this moment. I’d never observed him initiating such intimacy with anyone but Nikki. There was no conceivable way that Eric would be able to recall this moment, but I knew that allowing him this moment of affection would shape him as an adult.
It was shaping me.
It felt like we sat like that for hours, but in reality it was less than sixty seconds when Eric relaxed in my hands and wiggled again until I settled him on my lap. That was when I realised it was quiet around the table. I looked up to see everyone staring at us.
Nikki was wiping tears from her eyes, Francine was taking photos with her smartphone and Vinnie was kissing Roxy’s curly hair. The gentle expressions of affection were the only reason I wasn’t alarmed.
“That’s possibly the sweetest thing I’ve seen in my whole life.” Roxy leaned against Vinnie.
“And I got a few really good photos.” Francine swiped the screen of her smartphone. Her expression softened even more and she turned the screen towards Manny. “I think we should print this one and get it framed.”
“Ready for the road, Nikki?” Émile Roche came out of the house, carrying a laptop bag. “We’d better get going if we want to stop in Vienna for cake and coffee.”
Émile’s light blue eyes sought Eric. The laughter lines around his eyes deepened when he saw the baby on my lap. At seventy years old, Émile was still very active. Margot, his wife of forty-four years, was just as active. She’d hurt her back playing tennis two weeks ago and returned to Strasbourg to their specialist. I imagined it was another reason Émile wanted to go back. His devotion to his wife and family was strong.
He walked to me and touched Eric’s cheek with the tip of his index finger. “You’re going to miss your auntie Genevieve, aren’t you?”
Eric smiled at Émile and rested his cheek against my chest. I stared at his fist tightly gripping my thumb.
“I’m ready, Émile.” Nikki got up from her seat next to Francine. “Let me smooch everyone, grab my firstborn and we can blow this joint.”
Émile chuckled and shook his head. He had taken an immediate liking to Nikki and she to him. They’d spent most of the week talking about their shared love for old gangster movies. When they’d started quoting the movies, I’d stopped paying attention. It had become too difficult to determine when they were jesting, having a genuine conversation or trying to out-quote each other.
Ten minutes later, we were standing next to Émile’s bulletproof SUV. This vehicle and two just like it that would lead and follow Émile and Nikki were part of the argument she’d used to placate Vinnie and Manny. Both men had expressed their concerns over Nikki and Eric’s safety the moment she’d decided to go home early. The arguing had come to a climax last night.
Roxy had been the one to remind everyone the reason why Émile was returning to Strasbourg. His daughter was giving birth to a boy and he would do everything in his power to arrive there safely. I had confirmed Émile’s sincerity when he’d said he considered Nikki as family and Eric as an honorary grandchild. I knew Nikki and Eric would be safe with him.
“You tell Pink he’d better listen to the doctor’s orders or I’ll put him back in hospital when I get home.” Vinnie gave Nikki another hug.
“I’ll tell him that.” Nikki walked to me. “And then he’ll kick your butt the next time we play Drestia.”
Pink was the IT technician of the GIPN team we frequently worked with. Similar to the SWAT teams in the US, the men and women on the French GIPN teams put their lives in danger on a daily basis. During our last big case, six months ago, Pink had been injured quite severely. He’d been in a coma for four and a half weeks before he started the very slow road to recovery.
Five weeks ago, he’d walked again for the first time. Francine had been there and had shown me the video she’d taken. I’d been deeply upset by the discomfort bordering on pain I’d observed on Pink’s face as he’d leaned heavily on the walking aid, slowly making his way towards the camera. Since then he’d worked extremely hard with his physiotherapist to strengthen his body. At first the doctors had said Pink would never walk again. Then they’d said he would always have difficulty walking, possibly always needing a walker or crutches. I didn’t know what the doctors’ latest prognosis was. Pink had proven them wrong the first time. I hoped he would do so again.
When he’d started making significant progress, a lot of arguments had erupted about where he would go once released from the inpatient rehabilitation facility he’d moved to after his long stay in the hospital. His team leader and best friend Daniel had insisted on Pink moving in with him, but everyone agreed Daniel’s modern apartment was not suited for someone in recovery.
Vinnie had announced that Pink would move in with us. On Vinnie and Nikki’s side of our joined apartments was an unoccupied room Vinnie used as his home gym. That same day he’d moved his equipment into his bedroom and got Nikki to help him arrange the room and take pictures to send to Pink.
No matter how much Pink insisted on going back to his own place, Vinnie would hear nothing of it. I’d grown tired of the constant bickering and had told Pink he would be wise to stay with us for a few weeks. There was more than enough space in our joined apartments and if ever I felt overwhelmed by the many people in my home, I would retire to my bedroom and lock my reinforced bedroom door. All three locks.
His micro-expressions when he’d agreed had been enlightening. He’d resisted out of concern for me and was relieved when I’d reassured him that he would be wise to make use of Vinnie and Nikki’s offered help.
Three days after we’d arrived here at the villa, Pink’s doctors finally permitted him to go home. When he’d phoned to say he was being released, Vinnie had wanted to leave immediately. Nikki had convinced him that Pink already felt guilty for intruding in our space. Having Vinnie leave this long-awaited vacation would only exacerbate that guilt.
She hadn’t made any rational argument for her being the one to pick Pink up at the hospital and settle him into his new room. I still didn’t know her true reason for ending her vacation early to help Pink, but I was proud of her.
We walked to the front of the villa. The SUVs were parked in the circular driveway, the bodyguards chatting next to them. Nikki took Eric from me and secured him in his car seat. She handed him the green dragon, then straightened and walked to me. She stopped in front of me. “Gonna hug you.”
I appreciated the warning and took a moment to brace myself. She threw her arms around me in her usual exuberant manner and held me tightly against her. I took a deep breath and put my arms around her, awkwardly patting her back. The hug lasted for a mere twenty seconds, but my uneasiness at such physical closeness was already turning into panic. I took a step back when she released me. “Keep me updated on your progress.”
“I’ll send you loads of photos from the road.” She looked at Eric shaking the dragon in our direction. “If this is the same as our trip here, he’s going to sleep most of the way.”
It took another ten minutes for everyone to bid their farewells. I found such emotional moments most uncomfortable and unnecessary. We would see Nikki and Eric in another five days when we returned to Strasbourg. Such long embraces and tearful goodbyes seemed excessive. I was glad to watch the three cars leave the long driveway—not glad to watch Nikki go, but glad for the melodrama to end.
Manny and Vinnie were talking about Pink’s physiotherapy, and Francine was begging Roxy to go shoe shopping with her today. I leaned closer to Colin and simply enjoyed standing in the morning sun, listening to my friends.
I turned towards the road when the gentle rumble of a car drew my attention to the driveway. My first thought was that, despite Nikki’s numerous assurances, she had indeed left something behind. But it wasn’t
one of the three large black SUVs that entered the property.
By now everyone was watching the light grey sedan making its way towards us. Vinnie reached behind his back and rested his hand on his weapon that was holstered there. Manny stepped in front of Francine and nodded at the two bodyguards who came around the side of the villa. They spread out behind us, their hands also resting on their weapons. Whoever was in the car should by now know he or she was not getting a warm reception.
The sun was reflecting off the windscreen, making it hard to see the driver. I squinted and saw the sleeve of a man’s blazer. The sedan slowed and turned to park in front of us. I inhaled sharply and clutched Colin’s hand. Dark edges entered my peripheral vision.
I didn’t want to shut down now. Not out here and not when I knew this was important. So I mentally played Mozart’s Symphony No. 6 in F major with great determination.
“Doc?” Manny didn’t take his eyes off the vehicle. “Do you know our visitor?”
I swallowed past the tightness in my throat as I watched an athletic body exit the vehicle. “It’s him.”
“Who, love?” Colin asked softly.
“The man from the café. The man who was watching Olivia.”
Chapter THREE
I managed a few shallow breaths as the man got out of his vehicle. He was wearing jeans, a dress shirt and a blue blazer. He moved with the easy grace of someone who was very fit. What he’d managed to hide yesterday was the confidence in his movements. He looked at me and nodded as if confirming something to himself. He closed the car door, his body language attempting to bring the message across that he was relaxed. He was not.
He was alert and curious, and the tension around his mouth and in his shoulders increased when he noticed the two bodyguards and the many hands resting on holstered firearms. With a sigh he raised both hands. “I come in peace.”
Manny nodded towards the man’s hip that was clearly visible now that his raised hands had moved his blazer. “That’s not what that pistol on your side tells me. A P9RC if I’m correct. Hmm. That weapon has quite the reputation for its aim being off.”
