“It’s nothing to do with me.” He took a sip of his coffee, nonchalant.
Something occurred to her. “But it does have something to do with you, doesn’t it? Jakob is your son, and the wolves are his life’s work. Don’t you care at all?”
Under her questioning stare, he adjusted one sleeve of his fine wool jumper. “I do care.”
She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t look like it to me.”
“Why do you care so much?” he threw back at her.
“Well, because…” She glanced at Fredrik, who was obviously waiting for her reply. She scratched around for the right answer. “Because I think the environment is worth fighting for.”
Alvar laughed. “Really? I was at that party. I think you’re more interested in Jakob than in the environment.”
“And I think my interests are none of your business.” She put her phone in her bag, then stood up and pulled her coat on. “Very nice to see you again, Fredrik.”
He glanced at Alvar, then stood up too, maintaining his so-called manners. “Yes, very nice. See you again soon.”
With a nod, she turned to go, but stopped after one step. Reaching back, she grabbed her cupcake from the plate, then made her exit.
Twenty-Five
Jakob was sitting on the front step of her cabin. From his expression—even darker than yesterday, if that was possible—she knew he wasn’t feeling any better. Which was fair enough.
She wasn’t exactly feeling crash-hot herself, after yet another Jakob-free night. This morning, she’d had to drag herself out of her (empty) bed, and she’d felt every negative degree on her snowmobile trip to the (empty) eagle nest. And only half an hour into work at the volunteer office (also empty), she’d had to give up and come back here for paracetamol.
Now here he was. She stood at the bottom of the steps, so they were at eye level, and offered him a smile. “Hej.”
But she got no smile in return. He stood up, towering over her. “What is this?”
His tone instantly got her back up, but she made herself take a breath. He was going through a tough time, after all. She came up the steps and squinted at the label on the bottle he was holding. “I don’t know. It’s in Swedish.”
“I’ll translate it for you.” He ran his finger along one of the words. “An-ti-freeze.”
“Oh. The stuff that poisoned the wolves.”
“Yes.”
The way he was watching her, waiting…a sick feeling started to creep in, and her headache intensified. “So…” She didn’t know what he wanted her to say.
“I found it under your cabin.”
The silence that followed, and the expression on his face, said everything.
“It’s not mine. And why were you even looking there? Are you listening to Vera after all?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t need to.”
He was still holding up the bottle. How had it got under her cabin? Her mind was racing, but she tried to keep her voice calm.
“There’s no way I’d do that. You know me well enough to know that.” Well, he didn’t really—but they’d been getting there, until things started going wrong with the wolves. “Why would I do something so awful?”
“That’s what I’m trying to understand.”
This was going nowhere. She turned away and opened the door. “There’s nothing to understand. It wasn’t me.”
As she went inside, she heard him following, but he stopped in the doorway. She hung her coat on the hook and took her boots off, all under his doomsday stare.
“Jakob, why would I have told you about the first wolf, if I’d done it myself? That doesn’t even make sense.”
He raised an eyebrow, and she could see what he was thinking—so that no one would suspect her.
“I came here to help.” As she spoke, she tried not to remember that, actually, she hadn’t come to help at all. Not that he knew that. He was still standing in the doorway, looking grim. “Are you just going to stand there, or what?”
“No,” he said. “I’m going to go. And I think you should too.”
With that, he went down the steps and back to his cabin, leaving her in shock.
Where the hell had that stuff come from? She wouldn’t even know where to buy it, or how to ask for it in Swedish. Her brain raced in her pounding head. Who…and how? Then she remembered. That night…Fredrik’s car in the driveway…or maybe the day he’d come by on skis with Malin. He could easily have been around before that. Skied silently onto the property and left the poison without anyone ever knowing, and planted the bottle under her cabin. One way or another, it must have been him.
But if it was, why had he chosen her to implicate? Maybe she was just a convenient scapegoat to hang the whole thing on—just her bad luck to be the volunteer of the moment. Whatever the reason, she was not going to let him pin it on her.
* * *
With Greta and Bengt still away, and no guests, it was very quiet, and the crunch of her footsteps was loud in the still air as she went back up the winding path through the trees to the volunteer office. She sat at the computer and opened up the database. If she was here, she’d do the damn work—until Greta and Bengt came back, anyway. She couldn’t leave until then, and at this point, she didn’t know what else to do. She’d do the work, and hopefully she wouldn’t find anything, and then she could go back to London with no evidence to derail Jakob’s Scottish project. And if that meant she proved nothing to The Shark, so be it. She could say she’d done what was asked of her, up here in the almost-Arctic—a job that none of the others were willing to front up for.
As she was getting started, she heard the door open, and her entire body tensed. But it wasn’t Jakob. It was Stina.
“Hej, Zoe,” she said. “Are you busy?”
Zoe rolled the chair back from the computer, and shook her head. “No. And some company would be good.”
Stina looked doubtful as she perched on the edge of Jakob’s chair. “Well, okay, but…I have to tell you something.” She hesitated, chewing her bottom lip. “I’ve been hearing things…about you.”
Oh, hell. “What things?” But she already knew.
“People are saying maybe you…” She paused, her sweet face conflicted. “I mean, not everyone, but…some people. It’s about the wolves.”
Zoe threw up her hands. “It’s okay. I think I know.”
“You do?”
“I saw Fredrik and Alvar yesterday, at the café. And Jakob came to see me this morning.”
“But he doesn’t believe it.”
“Maybe he didn’t believe the rumours. But he found some antifreeze under my cabin. That’s what killed the wolves. So that’s evidence, I guess.” She shrugged.
“But why would there be…why would you hurt the wolves? He can’t think you did it!”
Zoe shook her head, trying not to let Stina’s astonishment feed into her own disappointment. Because so far, she’d concentrated on being offended and indignant. If she lost her grip on that, it could get messy. She’d let herself get way too deep with him, way too fast, and now she had to drag her heart back out.
“That’s exactly what he thinks. But who else would have done it?”
Stina tapped a finger against her lips, thinking. “Vera said Fredrik told her he heard someone talking about it at the systembolaget, so—”
“Wait. Fredrik told Vera?”
“Yes. She texted me to ask, because she knows I work here.”
“Okay…” Her assumption was being turned upside down. “I thought Vera told Fredrik.”
Stina frowned. “Well, everyone seems to be telling everyone now, so…” Seeing Zoe’s face, she cut the sentence short. “Sorry. But I’m telling them it definitely wasn’t you. I said that to Malin when I saw her in town yesterday.”
“Not Malin too?”
Stina’s expression said it all, and Zoe sank back in her chair.
“Well, that’s just great.” Then she remembered what Jakob had said. “Do you thin
k I should leave now?”
“Why should you leave if you haven’t done anything wrong?”
“Because everyone thinks I did.”
“But they’re wrong, aren’t they? The truth will come out. It always does. Especially in a small town like this.”
The truth will come out. Zoe looked out the big window at the clear white landscape. If only her conscience was as pure as the driven snow outside. Maybe she wasn’t completely above board, but on this one question, she was innocent. Innocent until proven guilty, right? Well, maybe not in the opinion of the Lillavik locals. She’d have to go soon enough, but not like this. All she had to do, somehow, was prove that Fredrik was the culprit.
Stina left her with a hug, and went to get things ready for the next guests. They were arriving the next day, only a couple of hours after Greta and Bengt were due back. Zoe dreaded them hearing the gossip about her, but it was inevitable. She’d have to talk to them before anyone else did.
She did her best to put the thought aside, and went back to the translated report. There was the occasional spelling and grammar error, but it was pretty clean overall, and after a while her attention started to wander. She skipped forward to the most recent entries, which had come in from all around the north of the country. Someone had found wolf tracks in the forest behind their house. The previous entry mentioned an actual sighting—three wolves, spotted from a distance. All good. But the entry before that made her heart stop. A hiker had been attacked by a lone wolf, out in the countryside. He’d survived, but with bite injuries. His friends didn’t have guns, but managed to scare the wolf away. They saw it run off in the direction of the nearest village.
She leaned back in her chair. Jakob wouldn’t have seen this yet—and it was the last thing he needed to find out right now. On the other hand, this information was exactly what she’d been sent here to discover, and exactly what The Shark was waiting for.
She stared at the screen for a while. Then she turned off the computer and went up to help Stina in the guesthouse.
She couldn’t un-see what she’d just read.
Now she had to decide what to do with it. Or not.
Twenty-Six
Bengt got out of the car and went round to open Greta’s door. He reached for her hand and helped her out, the whole procedure as elegant as movie stars arriving at the red carpet, except in khaki pants and puffer jackets. They were glowing like returning honeymooners.
“Welcome home!” Stina waved her flag wildly. She’d insisted on giving them a proper reception, and Zoe had already learned that almost any occasion demanded a Swedish flag.
“Welcome home,” she echoed, fluttering her own flag. Had they already heard the rumours about her?
But Bengt was cheery as usual. “Hej, hej,” he boomed. “Everything okay here?”
“Yes, fine,” Stina said, glancing at Zoe. “All good!”
“Excellent!” He took their bags from the car, and they all set off towards the house.
“Did you enjoy yourselves?” Zoe asked, as they went up the steps.
“We did,” Greta said, giving Bengt’s arm a squeeze. “But what a nice welcome back! And I’m looking forward to seeing my little girls, too.”
“Are Lena and Ebba coming?” Stina asked.
Greta smiled at the prospect. “Yes, Malin has an appointment, so she’s bringing the girls here for the afternoon.” Then she switched into business mode. “Is everything ready for the guests?”
“Yes, there’s nothing for you to do,” Zoe said. “Don’t worry.”
Greta looked from her to Stina. “You girls are wonderful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Stina said.
Zoe felt anxiety rising at the thought of how not-wonderful Greta would very soon think she was. Stina must have noticed, because she took her arm and tugged her back down the steps.
“We’ll let you unpack,” she called to Greta and Bengt. “We’ll double-check the guest rooms now.”
Greta gave them a wave as she went inside.
As they walked across to the guesthouse, Zoe felt butterflies in her stomach. Actually, it felt more like eagles. Maybe that’s where the missing birds were. Either way, she’d have to talk to Greta and Bengt sooner rather than later.
“You’ll be fine,” Stina told her.
“Yes.”
It must have sounded very unconvincing, because Stina gave her arm a shake.
“You will! Do you want me to go with you?”
“Thank you, but you’re right. I’ll be fine. I’ll go back over soon.”
Stina’s phone beeped. She checked the message, frowning. “I need to go. I forgot I have a Skype tutorial for my course—getting ready for my exam tomorrow. Will you be okay?”
“Yes, of course. Go.”
“Thanks.” Stina gave her a hug, and raced back to her car.
In the guesthouse, Zoe did the rounds in the upstairs bedrooms, checking that everything was ready. In the big room where she and Jakob had spent the night, she avoided looking at the bed. Stay mad at him, she instructed herself.
She heard Malin’s car arrive and leave again, and then there was a bustle downstairs as Greta brought the girls in. Giggles and chatter came from the great room, and the old printer in the office sprang into life. Greta must be working already, while the girls played.
There was only so much fussing around she could do upstairs to put the moment off. Eventually, with everything straightened and adjusted twice over, she squared her shoulders and went down to talk to Greta.
* * *
“Mama!”
As she came to the bottom of the stairs, Zoe stopped and listened. Was that one of the girls? She could hear Greta talking on the phone, but there was no noise coming from the great room.
The little voice rang out in the air again, but this time it was a desperate scream. “Mama!”
Her heart suddenly pounding, she ran out the front door, down the steps, and towards the voice.
Towards the pond.
She flung herself down the slope to the water’s edge. Lena was standing on the shore, crying hysterically.
“Ebba,” she sobbed. “Ebba.”
Zoe looked to where she was pointing. Near the middle of the pond was a dark hole in the ice, and in that hole was Ebba, her little face paler than her hair as she clung onto the jagged edge. Oh, no. Even a few minutes would be too long for such a tiny waif in that freezing water. She looked wildly around, but there was no one else.
“It’s okay,” she said, as she kicked off her boots. “It’s okay!”
The words were as much for herself, as for Lena.
As she took the first step onto the ice, she heard a crack. If it had given way under Ebba’s insignificant weight, there was no way in hell it would support her. But it was a pond—how deep could it be? She took a breath and ran towards the hole in her woolly socks, taking the longest, lightest strides she could.
Within two steps, the ice broke through, and she was in the water. Every bit of air was instantly sucked from her body by the wicked cold, and she gasped, desperately heaving oxygen into her lungs. She flailed for the bottom, but there was nothing, only weed grasping at her legs. With a mammoth effort, she started to swim, breaking through the ice as she went.
Ebba.
The short distance became an epic battle as her leaden limbs struggled through the water. Why was this goddamn pond so deep in the middle? There was no sound from Ebba now, just the serious white face watching as help came closer.
Just before Zoe reached her, her eyes fluttered closed, and she slipped under the water.
“Ebba!”
The sound of Lena’s scream in her ears was replaced by the roar of water as she dived under. The water was surprisingly clear, and she could see Ebba’s little figure just within reach. She grabbed her, and hoisted her up until her head broke the surface. The weight seemed twice what such a tiny girl should be.
As she turned for shore, she saw Greta holding a
wailing Lena. And she saw Jakob, ploughing through the water towards her. She passed Ebba to him, and he took her with ease, then reached out a hand. But she waved him away.
“No. Go. Take her first.” She watched him swim away, her own frozen limbs rapidly becoming useless in the water.
He soon had Ebba to shore, and as Greta hurried into the lodge with the precious burden, he swam back and scooped Zoe into his arms. She was ready to protest—why would he help a supposed wolf killer?—but the cold had sapped every ounce of strength from her body. He got them to solid ground, and carried her all the way up to the lodge. As they went in the door, water streaming off them, she was shaking so violently that her teeth were literally chattering. But she could hear the bath running in the downstairs bathroom, and the sound of Greta’s voice.
“Ebba?” she managed, her voice as shaky as her body.
He called out something to Greta, and she replied. The only word Zoe could pick out was ‘okay’. It was the only one that mattered.
“Ebba is in the bath,” Jakob said, heading for the stairs. “She’s okay, but Greta is calling the ambulance.”
All she could do was nod, and let her head sink to his chest. It was freezing, but there was immeasurable comfort in it.
Even though he hated her.
Upstairs, he took her into one of the guest bathrooms, shut the door, and set her on a chair while he turned on the shower. It was over a tub, so it slowly started to fill. He pulled her to her feet again, and set to work taking off her clothes. She would have shoved him away, but the cold had permeated to her bones, leaving her weak and useless. So she stood like a child as he undressed her, occasionally holding her steady when she wobbled. Then he helped her over the side of the tub, so that she was standing under the stream of hot water. She closed her eyes, arms wrapped around her body. She could feel the heat on her skin, and steaming water was rising around her ankles, but the shivering didn’t abate. Inside, she was permafrost. It seemed appropriate.
She opened her eyes as Jakob got in next to her. His skin was cold too, but he held her under the shower, turning her slowly so the water ran over every part of her. After a few minutes, the tub was full up to their knees.
The Near & Far Series Page 17