Bon Bini Beach: A Thriller Page 19

  She slouched down and turned around in the chair, her legs hanging over one armrest and her back leaning against the other, so she could continue reading in a relaxed manner.

  The diary was filled with scattered notes. Sometimes short pieces and sometimes longer, always full of abbreviations and unfinished sentences. It was clear that one some days Lilian had more of a need to write than on others, because there were gaps of a few months where there was nothing, while there were also sections of a few days with lengthy entries.

  Dominique read about quarrels between Lilian and her parents, usually identified by the letters H and G. About worries about tests and later final exams. About classmates and school friends. About how hard it was for her to adjust when she’d first moved to Amsterdam.

  But because Lilian labeled the people around her with abbreviations or made-up names, it wasn’t always clear whom she was referring to. It took her quite a while to figure out that Remi was Lilian’s name for her. She started to giggle. “Do-re-mi—how cute, Lil!” she said out loud. She read about Lilian’s recollection of various events they had experienced together, but that she had remembered very differently than her best friend had. She came across a few very harsh opinions, which really surprised her. Like the entry about how Remi could behave like a spoiled little child who found it perfectly normal to manipulate others into doing what she wanted and for things to always go her way. Or that Remi was used to saying the most horrible things about her girlfriends, but if the tables turned on her, even the slightest provocation could send her over the edge and she’d become angry and grumpy.

  Embarrassed, she read about the huge party that Remi—meaning her—had organized after she finished her propaedeutic and had rented out a trendy bar in the Spuisstraat—of course with her father’s financial help. And how Lilian had blown off her own propaedeutic party at the last moment, because she couldn’t offer much more than some beer and wine in her own room and was afraid no one would come.

  Dominique stared ahead pensively for a while. It was hurtful to read things like this, certainly when they came from your best friend, whom you’d known your entire life. But the most painful part to her was that this same friend was apparently so afraid of her possible reaction that she didn’t dare make any of these accusations to her face. That hurt far more than the accusations themselves.

  She continued flipping the pages and came closer to the section regarding the last semester. Lilian grumbled about the lack of suitable places to study at the library, the pressure to look for a new living space, questions about what major to pick. Painfully, Dominique read that there was no use discussing these problems with Remi since she was too busy and preoccupied with her various clubs and groups that she simply refused to listen to the troubles of others.

  She lowered the notebook and sighed: “Come on, Lil, am I really such a bitch?”

  But she had to continue reading, whether she wanted to or not. Lilian wrote about a party, organized by Dominique’s boyfriend at the time: Remi and I were supposed to go there together, for a little while, and then head home together afterward. But on the way there he called her to ask if she would join him and a few of his friends to some other party in Amsterdam South. So, I ended up going home alone. When I passed the American, on the Leidseplein, on my bike, I bumped into AT by total coincidence.

  The initials AT appeared on a few different pages. Dominique couldn’t stand the fact that she had no idea who that was. From Lilian’s notes, she could make out that at first it was all a bit awkward between them, but that it suddenly got all hot and heavy after a few dates. In two different places, Lilian noted leaving particular parties early because of an appointment with AT.

  Dominique felt like kicking herself. As a student board member, not attending an event was simply not done. During the past few months, there had been an overflow of parties and events. But she had somehow missed the fact that Lilian, whom she thought she knew better than anybody else in the world, had gone off to meet up with a man on those nights.

  She racked her brain: Who the hell was this AT guy? Why couldn’t she connect Lilian to a guy they both know? The only student board member with the initials AT she could think of was Anthony Terweij, a guy who had been on the bar commission with her last year. But that couldn’t be him, because Anthony was gay and lived with his boyfriend and their cat. Besides, Lilian’s abbreviations weren’t necessarily tied to the first and last names of the person in question. For example, she referred to Lisa Karneveld as RL, because since grade school people had called her Red Lisa, in order to distinguish her from Lisa Bruggen, better known as Long Lisa, who was known as LL in Lilian’s diary.

  Why hadn’t she paid more attention? How was it possible she never picked up anything about Lilian and this AT? And that she had no idea who this guy was? She couldn’t make out from the diary if Lilian was in love with him or not. But it was clear that there was something serious going on between them.

  She was startled when the phone began to buzz in her hand. She picked up quickly. It was Lilian’s father.

  “Dominique, maybe it’s better if you come here. We are at the police station. It seems that the police were able to get the FBI involved after all.”

  59

  During the car ride Dominique paid no mind to the beautiful scenery; her eyes were glued to the notebook in her hands. In the meantime, she had figured out that inform R must mean “inform Remi.” So Lilian must have planned to tell her something important during their vacation together. Maybe she was in love with this AT? Whoever he was.

  But if Lilian was so in love with AT, why did she hook up with Marc here on the island? Or did she think that it was acceptable because it was just a fleeting holiday romance?

  Dominique was furious with herself for not knowing the answers to these questions. Apparently, she didn’t know her best friend well enough to figure them out, or worse: not having noticed that these things were even going on.

  Was she really such a spoiled brat? Was she really so self-involved?

  The taxi ride was much faster than she had expected, and they stopped in front of the police station.

  “Do I need to come and pick you up later?” Leroy asked.

  “I really have no idea. I don’t know what’s going on anymore.”

  “Okay, just call me when you’re ready then.”

  She smiled at him gratefully and left the taxi, Lilian’s notebook pressed to her chest.

  Inside the police station lobby, Lilian’s parents were already walking toward her.

  “Hey, Do, we saw you arrive,” Lilian’s mother said.

  “About an hour ago, Snellen came to tell us that the FBI is involved after all,” Lilian’s father explained. “The FBI is now monitoring the station and can keep an eye on all incoming and outgoing email traffic from the police station. So if the kidnapper makes contact again, they can track his location immediately.”

  “Even if he uses a sprocy,” his wife added.

  “You mean a proxy,” he corrected her.

  “Yes, whatever that is.” She grabbed Dominique’s arms. “Oh, Do, this is really good news. Finally something is happening!” She seemed to have completely forgotten how angry she’d been at Do the past few days.

  “Yes, I’m very happy too,” Dominique quickly assured her as she handed her the notebook. “Look what I found. It’s Lilian’s notebook.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Lilian’s mother held on to the notebook with both of her hands. “Shouldn’t we give this to the police?”

  “I don’t know,” her husband said. “What do you think, Do?”

  “You could probably run it by Snellen, but I’m not sure how useful it will be to him. It’s filled with short notes about her life in Holland. Nothing related to Aruba. And it’s also very personal.” She hesitated for a moment. “There’s, uh … a lot of private information about her and me. I didn’t get to finish it all yet, but I would really like to read all of it. Do you mind if I photocopy a few p
ages?”

  Lilian’s mother exchanged a few quick glances with her husband, who nodded at her. A bit reluctantly, she handed the notebook back to Dominique, who asked the receptionist at the counter to make some photocopies of the last few pages, which she had not read yet.

  When she handed it back, Lilian’s mother pressed the notebook to her chest, as if she was never going to let it go. Dominique looked at her and thought she looked very old and tired, making her feel even more empathy for her.

  “Have you managed to get any sleep at all, Mrs. de Groot?”

  Lilian’s mother smiled sadly. “No, not really. I actually wanted to stay at the police station. We’re pretty much camping out here in the lobby all day. But Henk insisted that we sleep in a real bed at night.”

  “Yes, otherwise by the time Lilian comes back you will be completely exhausted,” her husband said cautiously.

  “Oh, don’t worry—I will find the energy then!” exasperated.

  Dominique knew this routine all too well: the endless bickering between Lilian’s parents, which actually wasn’t bickering, but simply their way of communicating with each other. Lilian hated it, because she felt that they really were fighting, but denied it by being all friendly about it. Dominique wasn’t sure if her friend was right or wrong about this.

  “So now what’s going to happen?”

  “We wait—what else is there to do?” Lilian’s father said with a grimace.

  “Shall we do that here, or do you want to go to the city center and have a proper cup of coffee somewhere? That’s got to be better than what they serve here, and you could get a little fresh air?”

  Again, the same sad smile appeared on Lilian’s mother’s face. “You go ahead, dear. We’d rather stay here.”

  Dominique realized there was no sense in arguing the point or trying to convince them otherwise. She made Lilian’s parents promise to call her as soon as there was any news and headed outside.

  Leroy’s taxi was long gone. But she didn’t mind; she felt like walking. Preferably along the water, to let the ocean winds really clear her head for a moment.

  60

  Sand and ocean. The sun was almost at its highest point of the day when Dominique reached Enlightenment Island. All roads in Aruba lead to this place, she thought. Apparently, it’s my destiny to be here during this vacation. She decided not to fight fate and entered the hotel.

  She walked to the hotel restaurant through the large hotel lobby. While she looked around for an available table, she noticed Dave seated near the kitchen door. He was sitting at a long table with two young women, one of whom she recognized as Amanda, the cheerleader in the group.

  Dave stood up and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

  “Come sit with me?” he asked.

  “No, thanks. You’re sitting with other people.”

  “This is the employee table. We’re just having a bite to eat together. But now that you’re here, I’d rather sit with you.”

  True to his word, he excused himself from the two girls, who just went on with their conversation. He slid his tray with his plate and utensils to the other end of the long table and also moved his coffee and orange juice there.

  “Have a seat,” he said, making an inviting gesture toward the empty seat across from him.

  She could hardly refuse his offer. As soon as she sat down, Dave motioned for a colleague, who came to take her order and served it with great speed.

  “You always need to give customers plenty of time to order something. But employees need to eat fast, because our breaks are short here,” Dave explained, grinning.

  “Are you on a break now, too? You usually work late, don’t you?”

  “Yes, usually I do. But I always have breakfast here during the course of the morning. Not only because it’s free, but also because sometimes they have extra shifts for us. Like Chuck and Jerome have now: they were extra lucky because they got here earlier than me—otherwise I would have scored those extra hours.”

  “Do they just keep working until late at night then?”

  Dave nodded. “It’s not really a big deal, those few extra hours. Whether you’re walking around here at eight o’clock or twelve o’clock really doesn’t make a difference or make you more tired. Plus, the pay is really good.”

  “Aren’t you surprised to see me here?”

  “Nah, Oranjestad is like a small village. You bump into each other everywhere.” He grinned. “Besides, I know you find me irresistible, and you just can’t get enough of me.”

  “Yeah, right!”

  Once again, she noticed how quickly this guy got her to laugh.

  She felt a lot better now.

  “So, how is it going lately?” he asked,

  She shrugged her shoulders and took her time taking a large bite from her eggs over easy, before answering him. “Lilian is still missing. The good news is that the FBI is helping to trace that email now, just like Jerome suggested.”

  “That’s really good!”

  Dave had finished eating a while ago but purposely lingered over his coffee.

  “So now what?”

  “Well, you know, we wait and, meanwhile, I continue to make myself even sicker with worry about Lilian.”

  He nodded. “It must be so hard. What do you do all day?”

  “Try to figure out who could have kidnapped Lil. Back and forth to the police station. But Lilian’s parents are there, too, and I feel so damn guilty when I see them. I mean …”

  “Because Lilian was kidnapped and you weren’t while you’re here on vacation together?”

  “Yeah, exactly! The whole vacation was my stupid idea—it’s really bad.”

  Dave watched her eat her eggs for a while.

  Then he asked, “Do you think you’ll come to La Mamba tonight? Or did I freak you out by kissing you again yesterday?”

  She put down her utensils and grabbed his hands.

  “Listen, Dave, I think you’re a great guy, and you always make me laugh. I’m not sorry that I kissed you at all, not that first night or last night. But Todd only just left, you know? And I …”

  “Of course, sorry I even …”

  “No need to apologize.”

  A large grin appeared on his face.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I was wondering if I should apologize ahead of time for the kisses I’m going to give you tonight.”

  She laughed so hard she choked on her food.

  Dave was still patting her on the back when her phone rang.

  Lilian’s father, she saw on the display. Still short of breath, she answered quickly.

  “Do? It’s Henk. You need to come right now. It’s urgent.”

  She jumped up from her chair.

  “I have to go,” she announced.

  “No problem,” Dave said, also getting up. “You don’t have to pay for anything; all of this is on the house.”

  “Thanks. I need to get to the police station as quickly as possible.”

  “Shall I bring you?” he offered. “My rental scooter is right outside, and I’m off duty anyway.”

  It was an offer she couldn’t refuse.

  A few moments later, she pressed herself against Dave’s back while he maneuvered the scooter though the Oranjestad traffic.

  61

  “Shall I go with you?” Dave asked as he dropped her at the police station’s front door.

  “No, thanks; I’ll manage on my own.”

  She said good-bye by kissing him on the cheek and hurried inside.

  There, she found Lilian’s parents in deep conversation with Snellen.

  When they saw Dominique arrive, they motioned for her to come over quickly.

  With one eye on the two people being helped at the counter at that moment, Snellen lowered his voice. “This morning we received a new email from the kidnapper.”

  “He’s threatening to cut off Lilian’s pinkie if we don’t pay immediately,” Lilian’s mother whispered. She had a wild lo
ok in her eyes.

  The people at the counter turned around, slightly disturbed.

  “A pinkie!” Lilian’s mother repeated.

  “But my father said he would take care of the money?” Dominique said worriedly.

  Lilian’s father nodded. “It arrived yesterday. But the police thought it was better to wait to make the payment until we’d received another email.”

  “That’s right,” Snellen confirmed. “Otherwise, we’d lose the opportunity to track the kidnapper. Especially now that we have the capability to do so.”

  Lilian’s mother’s eyes were spitting fire. “Mr. Snellen, if it turns out later that this bastard hurt our Lilian, then …”

  “Easy, Gerda, easy,” her husband quickly intervened, grabbing her arm. “Let’s not fight with each other! We all need each other.”

  It was clear that it took everything inside Lilian’s mother to contain herself. Dominique could clearly see that not much more was needed for Lilian’s mom to have a complete mental breakdown. She felt so bad for the poor woman, but at the same time she was also afraid she was going to take all that anger out on her at some point.

  “We completely understand your situation, ma’am, but it seems that this case has become even more complicated.”

  The three of them looked at him with great surprise.

  “We just received word that another young woman has been kidnapped,” Snellen reported in a very serious tone. “An American woman this time. From Savaneta, a place just south of the airport.”

  Snellen ran his hand across his face. The second kidnapping was quite a big setback for the police. “Now it’s a question of waiting until we receive word from the FBI,” he said.

  “Waiting? That’s all we’ve been doing!” Lilian’s mother snapped. “We’re really good at that. I think we should just pay. Then at least something is happening!”

  “It’s a matter of minutes now, ma’am,” the policeman pleaded with her. “Then we will know more, and who knows? Maybe you won’t have to pay at all.”