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Authors: Estelle Ryan

3 The Braque Connection (18 page)

BOOK: 3 The Braque Connection
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Chapter FIFTEEN

 

 

 

“What’s eating at you, Jenny?”

I liked the expression. It accurately described how I was feeling. I sank deeper into the passenger seat of Colin’s SUV and stared at the street ahead of us. We were going home after a few more hours of searching Hawk’s computer. “The numbers.”

After a moment, Colin huffed a laugh. “You will have to be more specific than that. Which numbers?”

“Oh, sorry.” Being distracted did not aid my communication skills. “Those numbers in the frames on the website are troubling me. There is this deluge of new information coming in and I don’t have time to process, analyse or make any sense of it. For example, I don’t know what to think about the traces of C4 by the woodwork equipment. And Edward wasn’t helpful.”

“Yeah, Millard wasn’t happy about Edward’s answer either.” He glanced at me and smiled. Manny had cursed excessively into the phone while listening to Edward. “Especially when Edward said there were many other chemicals in the warehouse that could be used to build a bomb.”

“And most of it is as harmful as the dishwashing liquid I use.”

“Vinnie has been complaining about the industrial-strength stuff you have. You should buy him some pink plastic gloves to protect his hands.”

“Why pink?” I looked away from the road and frowned at Colin. “Actually, why should I buy him any gloves? I have never asked him to clean anything for me.”

“He likes it. It relaxes him.”

“Oh. I understand that.” I did. My recent bathroom-cleaning episode spoke of my intimate experience in this matter. Recently it had become inconvenient when Vinnie’s constant presence in my apartment resulted in much less cleaning for me to do. In the last six months I had grown used to hearing keys opening my front door at all times of the day.

I looked back at the road, enjoying the familiarity of the journey home. Colin, Francine and Vinnie never abused the liberties they took entering my home on a whim. They didn’t leave anything out of place and respected my bedroom as a place sacred to me. With the exception of this week, Colin had spent a few hours every night with me in my room, always returning to his apartment after our lovemaking. It had been at my request. Most times I felt unprepared for the intense emotionality of my relationship with him. The thought of sleeping next to him made me feel far too vulnerable to consider accepting his nightly offers to stay over.

“Jenny?” Colin’s voice had the quality of having called me a few times. It happened often.

“Hmm?”

“What else is bothering you?”

“I don’t like feeling vulnerable.” The truth escaped my mouth before I stopped to think. “Forget about it. I was thinking about something different.”

“What were you thinking about?”

I bit down hard to prevent any more spontaneous confessions. “There is something else that bothers me about the case.”

Colin looked away from the road long enough for me to read his expression. Sometimes he did that on purpose for me to see his opinion on something I had said or done. He was displeased that I didn’t want to talk about my feelings, but was going to allow me to change the topic. He turned his attention back to driving. “What’s bugging you?”

“Where is Kubanov?”

“Um… I’m not sure exactly what you are asking.”

My brow furrowed in annoyance at another lapse of clear communication. “In every previous case it was easy enough to spot Kubanov’s influence. Apart from a lot of conjecture, there is nothing so far to directly connect him to any of this.”

“But you believe that he is behind all of this?”

“Do you?” I turned in my seat, the tree-lined street forgotten.

“You know I do.” His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Those six days he had me in his basement taught me a lot about the man. One of those lessons was that he was not going to stop until he got the revenge he feels we deserve.”

“The mind of a psychopath.” My heart rate increased at the memories of the torture Kubanov had subjected Colin to. All because Kubanov had felt slighted when we had put a stop to his far-reaching art forgery business. From a psychology point of view I knew he was fixated on this and would not easily give up. Colin was right. “But where is the evidence that he is behind this?”

“It will come, Jenny. With an ego like his, Kubanov wouldn’t tolerate us not knowing that he is pulling our strings.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Pulling strings is an expression explaining one person, the puppet master, controlling the puppets.”

“Marionettes and a manipulator. A good analogy.”

“Except we are much smarter than puppets and won’t allow him to pull our strings for too long.” Colin found a parking place close to our apartment building. He turned off the engine, but his body language indicated he had no plan to leave the vehicle. I studied him for a few seconds. He swallowed a few times, his lips compressing. He wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how to start. A heavy feeling settled in my stomach.

“I know we haven’t talked about this, but you said you were still too angry with me.” The tremble in my voice was barely audible, but I felt the nerves in my entire body. I didn’t take time to interpret the surprise on Colin’s face, but spoke even faster. “You promised not to leave me. Compared to dating neurotypical people, I know it must be extremely difficult for you to be with me. I experience a large degree of anxiety and panic when you move something out of its place. I insist on a lot of things that are clearly obsessive behaviour and am not emotionally communicative. According to studies, most men don’t like the extreme emotional fluctuations of women, but you’re not most men. I have never even asked you what you would prefer, mainly because I don’t care. You see? I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Jenny. Stop.” Colin took my hands and pulled me a bit closer to him. “Look at me.”

I took my eyes off my trembling hands. I had been avoiding his face, not wanting to see that I was right. But Colin waited until I looked at him.

“Look.” He dropped his face a little bit closer to mine. “What do you see?”

One thing invaluable to me was Colin’s willingness to patiently wait while I studied him. He never flinched away, never hid from me. I was taken aback by what I saw.

“You’re confused. Why are you confused?”

“Because I don’t know what brought on your lengthy explanation.” His smile was gentle. “Want to tell me what’s happening in your head?”

“You’ve been avoiding a conversation about me going with Vinnie to Hawk’s warehouse. I don’t know why. When you stopped here, I could see you wanted to say something you were not comfortable with—”

“—so you jumped to a conclusion.”

I winced. “I did, didn’t I?”

He nodded. “Yes, and it wasn’t a jump, it was a huge leap. And it was in the wrong direction. I didn’t want to talk about Hawk’s warehouse because I was angry. I know when I debate, argue or talk with you I need to have rational arguments. While still angry, it would be difficult for me to stay calm and rational. If challenged, I would’ve answered, ‘Because’. Not a good answer to give to you. It would only have led to senseless arguments.”

“Are you still angry?”

“I’m still pissed that you went there and put yourself in danger, but not as angry as two days ago.”

My throat felt thick with emotion. This was what I didn’t like about being emotionally involved with someone. The vulnerability.

“Are you still looking at me?”

My face must have conveyed my incredulous response, because he nodded.

“Good. See that what I’m saying is true.” He took a deep breath. “I’m nowhere near your IQ and there is a mountain of differences between us, but I’m pretty sure I know you. And I’m pretty sure that you are trying your best to not love me, to not love anyone. But it’s too late, Jenny. I see it. I see that you love me.”

I started shaking my head and couldn’t stop. “No. It’s not true.”

“What? That you love me or that you’re trying not to?”

My childhood of emotionally distant caregivers, disappointed and disapproving parents came rushing to my memory. The last time I had committed emotionally to someone was at the age of five. It had been an exceptionally traumatic experience when that nanny had left like all the others, calling me a freak. What Colin was asking of me was too much.

“Aw, Jenny.” He leaned back, putting distance between us. “You really don’t make it easy, do you?”

“Please don’t give up on me.” My whisper was so soft, I was surprised he heard me.

I saw the internal struggle on his face before he moved closer to me again. The nonverbal cues of his emotions were unmistakeable. “I’m not going to give up on you, Jenny. I love you.”

I couldn’t help it. I gasped. No one had ever told me this and I certainly had not expected to receive this sincere gift on this specific day. It truly was a gift. I didn’t know how to respond. “I need time to think about this, to catalogue this.”

His smile was sad. “Ever considered not micro-analysing everything?”

I shuddered. “Not possible.”

“Okay.” He laughed softly, but there was no humour in it. “Then let me tell you what I was about to say before your huge confession.”

“I didn’t con… Sorry. I’m listening.” I didn’t want to add to the sadness I had already caused.

“There’s a party in your apartment at the moment.”

All emotions were forgotten. My apartment was being destroyed. “Who? Why? How could you agree to this?”

“Slow down.” This time there was humour in his laugh. “It’s your birthday party.”

“You know it’s my birthday?”

“We all know it’s your birthday, Jenny.” He leaned over and kissed me until I forgot about my emotional discomfort. I didn’t forget about my apartment though. One last, chaste kiss and Colin moved back. “Happy birthday, love.”

“Thank you. Who is in my apartment?”

“The usual suspects. Vinnie, Francine, Millard and Phillip. Francine is the one who started this whole thing. She wanted to go big and have a huge party, but Phillip convinced her to keep it small. They went through a lot of effort to make this surprise party for you.”

“But it’s no longer a surprise. You’ve just told me about it.”

“Because I know how much you hate surprises. I thought giving you a few minutes to prepare for what was waiting for you might be better for everyone.”

“Oh God. What is waiting for me?”

For some reason Colin thought my reaction was amusing. “You don’t have to sound so horrified, Jenny. Vinnie baked a cake, made dinner, Francine put up some birthday decorations and, well, I don’t know what Millard is doing there.”

“Apart from the decorations, it sounds like a normal dinner.” I lifted both shoulders. “Why is this different? We see each other every day.”

“But we don’t celebrate every day.”

“Why would you want to celebrate my birthday? It’s a strange ritual that personally I think people only use as an excuse to socialise and get drunk.”

“You might very well be right, but in this case, we want to let you know that you are special to us by celebrating the day you became part of humanity.”

I was stunned. In all of my thirty-five years I had never had people wanting to celebrate my existence.

“And”—Colin looked pleased with himself—“Vinnie and Millard promised me they would not pick fights with each other tonight. That might require Vinnie to stay in the kitchen all night and Millard to lock himself in the bathroom, but hey, they promised.”

The thought of those two men restraining their innate need to nettle each other made me smile. “I would like to witness that.”

“I thought you would.” He put his hand on the car door handle. “Shall we go?”

I nodded and followed him to my apartment. He hesitated at the door, waiting for me. I took a few deep breaths, preparing myself to not react to any changes made inside. Anything out of place was only temporary and I could have a therapeutic cleaning session once everyone left. That thought was positive, one I planned to remind myself of throughout this birthday party. I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

“Surprise!” Francine jumped in front of me, shaking huge colourful pompoms. I stepped back against Colin’s chest, trying my best to school my features into a pleasantly surprised look.

“Aw, Jen-girl. You really are a bad liar. That is not a surprised face.” Vinnie stepped closer and pulled Francine away from me, telling her to stop scaring me. She continued shaking the pompoms with a happy smile. All I could think of was the obsessive search I would go through if the string holding the tinsel together broke. Vinnie pushed Francine behind him. “Come on. We’re set up here by the sofas.”

I looked to the left and saw Manny and Phillip standing in front of one of my sofas. The double doors to the balcony were open. A summer breeze cooled the interior marginally. It was a hot day. Above the doors hung a colourful banner wishing me a happy birthday. Lifting my gaze to that sign had brought the biggest form of decoration to my attention. Everywhere I looked, balloons were touching the high ceiling. They had to be filled with helium to float despite the amount of tinsel weighing them down. My apartment looked like a children’s party venue.

BOOK: 3 The Braque Connection
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