Searching for Stolen Love Read online

  ***

  I pulled into the parking lot for the State Hospital Complex, where I could hide the car in a sea of cars.

  I handed the lot attendant a one-euro coin, and he quickly shoveled it into his empty pocket. “Thank you sir.” But I was already out of earshot before the attendant could complete his sentence. I jogged the two blocks to the university.

  I dashed to the faculty office first. I needed time to think and collect my thoughts. Approaching my office, I heard sobbing sounds echoing down the hall. As I walked passed Veronika's door, I returned, and stopped in the doorway.

  Veronika sat at her desk, removing the pictures and carefully placing them into a cardboard box that once stored paper. Her face became pale and wet from her tears, and her hair disheveled. She noticed me and tried to compose herself, as she patted at the tears with her shirt sleeve.

  I slowly closed her door and sat in a chair across from Veronika and whispered, “Veronika, could we please have a talk?”

  “Keith, this isn’t a good time,” Veronika's voice crackled with sad emotions. She almost lost her composure again as the tears wanted to burst forth again.

  “Please, Veronika, it's about Damir.”

  Veronika grabbed the last picture on her desk, placed it gently into the box and quietly sat down. She didn’t look directly at me but stared into space.

  “I don’t know how to say this, but Damir is an evil person.”

  Veronika exhaled a sarcastic sigh and shrieked, “That’s an understatement.”

  “May I ask what happened?” I asked kindly, “Please Veronika; this is important to me.”

  “Damir fired me a little while ago.”

  “Why?”

  “I accidentally stapled a document twice. Damir became upset with two staples in the document. He became quite irrational.” Then she imitated Damir's voice sarcastically, “Do you know how much it would cost if you had stapled every document twice? That would add up over the year. I cannot have my employees wasting expensive office supplies.”

  “I’m so sorry. This is completely ludicrous. What will you do?”

  “I don’t know Keith,” as tears began flowing down Veronika's face again. She continued to stare absently into space.

  “Veronika, I’ll make this short. Damir sells drugs. He uses the drugs to finance the university. I suspect he may have killed many people too.”

  “What?” Veronika stopped crying. It felt like someone punched her in the stomach. She stared and studied my eyes, ascertaining whether I was playing a cruel joke on her.

  “Do you know anything about this?” I asked seriously.

  “No, not the drugs, not the murders.”

  “What do you mean, not the drugs and not the murders?”

  “Damir is very unstable. I heard last year, he threatened to kill the Mayor of Tuzla. Mayor wanted to take the university's building, demolish it, and build a new hotel. Damir was furious. Supposedly, he went with his drivers to the mayor's office and actually threatened him.”

  After composing her thoughts, she added, “I also have heard he stole $75,000 from a relief agency to start the university.”

  “I see Damir has his hands on everything. What happened to the case with the mayor?”

  “Damir almost got into trouble. He bribed some top officials in the Bosnian government to make the charges go away. Mayor also decided to stay away from Damir and his university, and he wants nothing to do with him, because Damir is too crazy.”

  I asked in a soft, sincere voice, “What happened with the relief agency?”

  “Well, I heard Damir helped some European relief agency. They helped feed the refugees after the Bosnian War. Damir volunteered as a liaison with the relief agency because he served as an officer in the Bosnian army and was a decorated war hero. Then the relief agency found someone stole some of its funding. They thought it was Damir, but they couldn’t prove it. Then suddenly, Damir showed up with a suitcase of money and started this university.”

  “Damir is one huge dirt bag. I have never seen such a slimy piece of shit,” I snapped.

  I paused for a minute in pensive thought. Then I cleared my throat, “I apologize Veronika for my course language. The more I learn about him, the more evil the man becomes.

  Then I know you’ll not definitely like this story. Damir's criminal behavior is extensive. I believe he kidnapped my girlfriend. Her name is Yelena, and she’s Serbian. I believe one of the drivers delivered Yelena to the Russian mafia in Montenegro.”

  Veronika's face writhed in surprise, “Oh no! Say it’s not so! That poor girl!”

  “Unfortunately, it’s true. I’m searching for her.”

  “I know Damir hates the Serbs, so I wouldn’t put it past him. I know he does business in Budva, Montenegro. He knows people down there.”

  “Budva?”

  “It’s a resort town in Montenegro. People say it’s a very beautiful place.”

  “Could he have contacts in other cities other than Budva?”

  “I don’t think so, Keith. Sometimes, when I contact the drivers, they’re in Montenegro, somewhere around Budva. As far as I know, they never go anywhere else.”

  “Do you know where Damir is right at this moment?”

  “I left his office a half-hour ago. I imagine he’s still there. Why?”

  “I need to talk to him,” while my face twisted into a wicked smile.

  “Damir doesn’t allow you to speak to him. He always speaks to you. He has his large driver, Adnan, sit outside his office door, making sure no one enters his office without an appointment. Besides, it’s dangerous to see Damir. He fires anyone who upsets him.”

  “I still need to talk to him. I’ll give him my letter of resignation. I decided it’s time to move on. I can’t work for him or his university.”

  “Just be careful. I heard rumors that his drivers are armed. Adnan may have a gun. You may need to shoot your way past Adnan, but it was weird today. I haven’t seen Adnan for a few days. Damir must have sent him on an errand.”

  Veronika happened to glance down at my abdomen as her eyes widened.

  I reshuffled the front of the coat to hide the gun handle.

  “Perhaps you can see him without an appointment. Just be careful.”

  I reached inside my jacket and grabbed one bundle of euros.

  I placed the bundle of money on Veronika's desk and stated, “Veronika, I want you to take this...”

  “I can’t take this money, Keith!” Veronika feigned disapproval.

  “Please take this money. Besides, this money does not belong to me. I stole it from Damir. Think of it as a contribution to your retirement plan or a severance package. It should be around 10,000 euros. I’m giving this money to you; no strings attached.”

  “Thank you,” Veronika replied softly, gratefully. She became mesmerized as she stared at the money.

  “I’ll turn in my letter of resignation. You take care of yourself.” I quietly rose from the chair and approach the door.

  Veronika's stopped sobbing, and she sat still. As she studied the bundle of money, her smile deepened. Then she snatched the money and tucked it into the inside coat pocket. Then she mumbled to herself, “It’s a nice day after all.”

  As I closed the door, Veronika said, “Thank you Keith.”

  I went to my office to reload my gun. Then I headed to the administrative office to turn in my letter of resignation.

  Walking down the corridor of the administrative wing, I scanned the hall and saw the deserted hallways, vacant desks, and closed doors. Most staff departed for winter break, enjoying time with their families.

  All the doors were old covered with a fresh coat of enamel paint, except the last one. I approached the last door where a new mahogany door stood with a polished brass knob. Then I read the golden placket attached next to the door, Damir Kovacev, President.

  I quietly approached Damir's Office. I glanced at the vacant desk, next to Damir's door, making sure Adnan was not
lurking around.

  Once I reached the door, I grabbed the gun's handle and slid the Smith and Wesson from its hiding place. I looked behind me, making sure the coast was clear.

  Nobody was here today, leaving the corridor empty.

  As I reached for the door handle, my heart rate started to accelerate, and I heard my beating heart as it geared up for action.

  I grabbed the door handle tightly and pushed the door open. Door swung inward and banged against the wall. Then I charged in; pointing my gun at Damir's head.

  Damir raised his head and stared at me. His smile widened, as he seemed oblivious to the gun. He announced in a civil, respectful tone, “Please come in, Keith. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

  I glanced down at my hand to make sure I held a gun and not a banana. The gun’s polished steel glistened under the office light. I used my other hand to close the door gently and moved to several feet from the front of Damir’s desk.

  He folded his hands together and rested them on that folder of resumes, still smiling.

  I stopped three feet away from the front of Damir's desk and kept pointing the gun at Damir's head.

  “Like I said, I’ve been meaning to talk with you. You’re my best employee.”

  “What,” as confusion filled my voice?

  “I just saw the student's evaluations from last semester. You have the highest rankings. Students like you. I also saw you submitted a new research paper. I only glanced at the abstract, but the paper looks excellent.”

  “Where’s Yelena?” I asked in a firm, assertive voice.

  “I hope you’ll continue to teach at the university. I have high hopes for you. You’re my best employee,” Damir said in a jocund manner.

  “WHERE IS YELENA?” My voice began to rise in anger.

  “I hope you find Bosnia to be a nice place to live. I hope you’ll continue your tenure at the university,” Damir stated jovially, completely oblivious to the gun.

  “WHERE IS YELENA?” My voice rose to a scream. Emphasizing my point, I used my thumb to pull the gun’s trigger back as a metallic click echoed through the room.

  “Keith, oh Keith. You’re not the first person to point a gun at my head. You just put that gun down and return to your office. Then we’ll forget about this little indiscretion. You’ll find I can be a generous, forgiving man. I always take care of my employees, especially my best employees,” Damir stated in a jovial tone.

  Keith's face reddened as anger coursed through his veins, “WHERE IS YELENA?”

  “Oh, that’s the name of that Serbian bitch? Keith, I didn’t know. Besides, you’re better off with a Bosnian girl. They make better wives than Serbian women. Serbian women are not faithful to their men.”

  Anger flooded my conscience. My inner voice screamed – just shoot him. You know where Yelena is.

  Then I replied, “WHAT?”

  “Serbian women make terrible wives. I can’t have my best employee dating a Serbian woman. So put that gun down and return to your office. Then this weekend, we can go out, and I can introduce you to some nice Bosnian women. Bosnian women are much better than Serbian. Trust me; I know. At one time, I had the most beautiful Bosnian woman. Her name was Emina.”

  I shook with rage, “I WANT YELENA! IF YOU DON’T TELL ME WHERE SHE IS, I’LL KILL YOU!”

  Damir's smile contorted into a grimace. His voice became cold, emotionless, “Keith; I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m asking you one last time. Put that gun down and go back to your office. This is your last warning! Trust me, my friend. You don’t want to make me angry. I can be one vengeful cruel motherfucker!”

  Rage boiled in my blood while my reasoning and conscience shut down. I screamed at the top of my lungs, “TELL ME WHERE YELENA IS,” and I shot a bullet above Damir’s head.

  Before I realized what happened, Damir hopped onto the desk and leaped onto me, knocking me down.

  Fists began pummeling my face.

  I shot the gun again, but the punches kept landing on my cheeks, eyes, and chin.

  I pulled the gun’s trigger again and the punches stopped.

  I pushed Damir off me and scooted away from his body.

  A hole formed in the center of Damir's abdomen, and blood began oozing out. His eyes became lifeless as he froze his eternal stare at the ceiling.

  Logic and reasoning swam back into my head. I tilted the gun backward to examine it. The gun was hot. Then I saw a wisp of smoke rise from the gun’s barrel. Everything seemed surreal, where I became stuck in a bad dream. I hoped this nightmare would end, and I would awaken in a cold sweat in my bed, but the bad dream continued. I must traverse this nightmare until the end. I couldn’t awaken yet.

  That was reality. I murdered another person.

  I scorched my hand when I touched the hot barrel. Then I slipped the gun into my winter coat pocket and approached Damir's desk.

  I reached for a Kleenex on Damir's desk. I tipped toed backwards to the office door, keeping my eye on Damir.

  He lay in the center of the office motionlessly as a pool of blood widened, growing across the surface.

  Once I reached the door, I used the Kleenex to wipe the door handle. Before I shut the door, I studied the spot where I stood in front of Damir, scanning the floor, making sure I didn’t drop anything.

  I noticed several splotches of blood near the chair in front of Damir's desk. I lifted my arms and then my legs, inspecting them for cuts or injuries. When I was satisfied that it wasn’t my blood, I quietly closed the office door and wiped the outside door handle with my Kleenex.

  I scanned the corridor, and I didn’t see another living soul around. Then I retreated down the corridor and walked outside into the cold January air. I had some errands to complete before heading to Montenegro.