“I would really like to get out of this cold.” Colin stomped his designer boots. “I wasn’t really thinking I had to hike through the snow when I got dressed this morning. My feet feel like they’re dying.”
Something Colin had said triggered an extremely negative emotion in Manny. His lips thinned and his hands fisted in his coat pockets.
“Okay, old man.” Vinnie walked closer and bumped fists with Daniel while the latter talked on his phone. “I’ve got ears and eyes all over the place looking for gossip about this kind of MO.”
“And what?” Manny swung his angry gaze from Colin to Vinnie. “You want a pat on the back?”
Vinnie’s eyes widened, then he smiled maliciously, turned his back on Manny and said over his shoulder, “Yes, please.”
“Bugger off, criminal.” Manny stomped over to his sedan and opened the door. He paused and looked at me. “See you in the team room. Don’t make me wait.”
He got in his car, started it and on high revolutions left the parking area. Vinnie stared at Manny’s car until it was out of sight and looked at me. “What the fuck, Jen-girl?”
I took a step back. This was a completely new situation for me.
“Let it go for now, Vin.” Colin took my hand and squeezed. “We’ll talk about Millard later. Let’s just go to the team room.”
“No way, dude.” Vinnie put his fists on his hips. “That old man better have a fucking good reason lashing out at me like that. I’m so pissed at him right now. I think it’s better if I hang back with Dan.”
“I won’t be long.” Daniel finished his call and nodded towards the tourists. “As soon as they’re done, Pink and I will come in too. The crime scene techs are going to be busy here for some time still and I agree with you.” He looked at Colin. “It’s freezing out here.”
Colin nodded and opened the passenger door for me. “See you guys at the team room then.”
He got in and started the car without speaking to me. I quietly stared out of the window until we reached the city centre. This time I didn’t even notice Colin’s driving or how many cars were on the road with us. My mind was on a loop, trying to find a logical way of dealing with this new situation. When we drove past the European Parliament, I twisted in my seat to face Colin. “I don’t know what to do.”
He glanced at me. “About Millard?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” He overtook a truck with ease and glanced at me again. “What did you see? No. You know what? Don’t tell me. Millard knows you saw whatever is eating at him. I bet he’s hoping like hell you won’t tell me or anyone else.”
“So what do I do?” Friendship was still a relatively new concept to me. Before Colin had entered my life, I had never had friends before. As a child, I’d been too isolated and socially inept to make friends. Phillip had been my boss for a long time before I learned how to relate to him on a deeper level. Colin, Vinnie and Francine had taught me most of the friendship skills I had. Still neurotypical friendships remained mostly a mystery to me.
Colin thought about his answer for a short while. “If you were in Millard’s shoes and he in yours, what would you like for him to do?”
“A hypothetical situation?” I considered such an event. “I would prefer for him to let me deal with my emotions and share it with the others when or if I’m ready.”
“Then do that for him. Trust Millard to work through his own feelings and talk to us when he’s ready.”
“You’re saying ‘when’, not ‘if’.”
He snorted. “Yeah. It might be the optimist in me, but I’m thinking that despite his British reticence, Millard knows we care and want to be there for him.”
“Vinnie is angry.” It had been evident in all his nonverbal cues.
“Vin will be fine.” Colin slowed down and glanced in the rear view mirror. “He knows Millard is picking the strongest of us to dump his sadness on. This is new for us too. Vin obviously needs to calm down so he won’t punch Millard when the idiot lashes out again. But he’ll handle it. Don’t worry.”
That was just it. I was worried. I didn’t know what was going on with Manny, only that something had happened after we’d left to meet with Hassan and it was causing him tremendous emotional anguish. Moreover, I was deeply concerned that his way of dealing with his pain by taking it out on Vinnie might damage their relationship.
It was ridiculous how irrational my thinking was at the moment. I felt responsible for maintaining the emotional equilibrium of the group. I shook my head at myself in disgust and turned back to look out of the window. Colin was right. I needed to trust Manny to know how to work through his own pain. And I needed to trust Vinnie to manage whatever abuse Manny was going to aim at him.
Despite this new development, I no longer longed for the days when my life was void of friends and the wealth of emotions and experience they brought into my life. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose one of them. I wondered if Caelan was coping with the loss of his friend. Did the intensity of the emotions he was experiencing confuse him or had he learned how to understand and deal with it?
I wasn’t able to ease Caelan’s grieving, but I could do everything in my power to find out who had killed Jace and stop that person. My mind was already cataloguing every bit of evidence we’d gathered so far and prioritising which I should peruse next.
Colin’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen clearly displayed where the phone was in its holder on the dashboard. He smiled at me. “It’s Johan Klein.”
Chapter ELEVEN
“Johan, I’m glad to hear from you.” Colin’s accent shocked me and I glared at him. He was speaking with a heavy Scottish accent. He winked at me, then turned his attention back to the road. “How are you?”
“I’m well, Isaac. Just a bit surprised to hear from you.”
Johan Klein was speaking to one of Colin’s aliases. Isaac Watts was known for the hundreds of hymns he wrote in seventeenth-century England, not for the poems or the textbook on logic he wrote. I disliked it immensely when Colin went under a false name. Deception was not a strong point for me and having to remember all his different aliases was exhausting. He enjoyed it.
“Well, the other day I saw a painting that came from your talented hands.” Colin’s tone was calm and respectful.
“You flatter me. What did you see? Where?”
“It was a stunning Roubaud.”
“Hmm.” His reply was quiet and he paused before continuing. “Yeah, that.”
Colin lifted one eyebrow and glanced at me. “Tell me more about this Roubaud.”
“Why?” The suspicion in Johan’s tone was so obvious that even I picked up on it.
“Come on, Johan. You know that I can’t resist finding out about something when I’m intrigued.”
“Word is that you’re turning people in.”
Colin snorted. “Turning people in? What does that mean?”
“That you’re working for the cops now. You’re ratting your friends out.”
I frowned at Colin’s phone and tilted my head in an irrational attempt to hear better. I was concerned. Even though Colin didn’t actively work at maintaining his reputation as a notorious thief, he’d been excessively careful not to let anyone find out he was indeed working for Interpol as well as our team.
Colin didn’t appear worried though. He uttered a sound of derision. “Who said what to you?”
“Nobody said anything specific. It’s just that a few of the forgers you were in contact with are now in jail.”
“For forgery?”
“Uh... no.” Friendliness returned to his voice. “They were arrested for murder, grand larceny and fraud.”
“Things you know I have zero interest in. I only care about art.”
“That you do.” The smile that accompanied his words hinted at history between him and Colin. I thought about this for three seconds and decided I didn’t care. I wanted to find this killer who tortured people before throwing them away like trash.
“So tell me more about this Roubaud.” Colin glanced in the rear view mirror and frowned before he turned into a side street. “You know I want all the juicy gossip.”