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The Near & Far Series

Page 22

by Serena Clarke

Malin tugged her coat down and headed for the lake. “Not fine for him.”

  Relieved, Zoe got off her machine and watched as Malin mama bear went to retrieve her girls. Between the wrath of his sister, and the grief he was going to get from Zoe, Fredrik was facing a serious tongue-lashing—and hopefully, the repercussions of his blackmail.

  But as Malin approached, Fredrik suddenly pushed Hakon out of the way. The old man fell awkwardly to the ice, his fishing rod sliding away, and the girls screamed. Fredrik grabbed one of their arms in each hand, holding them hard.

  Malin stopped on the shore, Zoe and Greta right beside her. Ebba had started to wriggle and cry, but Lena stood stock still.

  In Swedish, Malin yelled something to Fredrik. He looked at Zoe, then answered in English.

  “There’s no problem,” he said. Then he glanced at Hakon, who was trying to get up. He gave the old man a shove with his foot, and Zoe gasped as Hakon fell back to the ice. Then Fredrik met Malin’s stare. “I just want you to do one thing for me.”

  Malin stepped onto the lake and started towards him, carefully shifting her weight from one side to the other like a penguin so she wouldn’t fall.

  “You should stop,” he said, and something in his voice made her do exactly that.

  Heart pounding, Zoe turned to the side and carefully took her phone out of her pocket. Trying not to let Fredrik see, she texted Jakob as fast as she could, forgoing punctuation or sense, but hoping he’d understand.

  Help girls danger lake Fredrik hurry

  Then she slipped the phone back into her pocket.

  “Fredrik, please,” Malin said. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Alvar called me,” he said. “After she talked to him.”

  He looked at Zoe again, and Malin and Greta did too.

  “What did you say to him?” Malin’s question was more of an accusation.

  She felt her face flush with heat. “I just…I wanted him to try again with Jakob. Because life’s too short to give up on your family.” Had Alvar decided that he couldn’t live under Fredrik’s thumb any longer, no matter the cost? “And…I told him that you said Fredrik had poisoned the wolves. But you already told Jakob that—you were going to tell everyone.”

  Her expression was daggers. “There must be something else.”

  “No. That was it. Except…” She glanced at Greta. “We talked about Claire.”

  Malin kept her eyes on her daughters. “You know about that?”

  “Yes, I—”

  She stopped as Ebba squealed again. Fredrik was lifting each of the girls higher, twisting their arms. Ebba twisted in his grip, kicking his leg, and he finally let her go. She struggled over the ice to Malin, who held her tight.

  “Tell them the truth,” he said to Malin, his face contorted as he clutched Lena’s arm.

  Malin’s face was white. “The truth about what?”

  “Tell them who poisoned the wolves. I’m not losing Defrost because of you.”

  Zoe’s hand went to her mouth. Had her words got through to Alvar after all? After the years of blackmail and manipulation, maybe the wolves—Jakob’s wolves—were his breaking point.

  “Fredrik, please. This is crazy.” Malin spoke slowly, steadily, but there was a quaver in her words.

  “You are crazy,” he shot back. “Your husband knows it. Everyone knows it. You’re crazy enough to kill the wolves to protect your children.”

  Greta gasped, but Malin shook her head.

  “You want everyone to think that.”

  Then they heard another snowmobile, and Jakob emerged from the trees. He skidded to a stop by the boathouse. He must have been out checking for wolves—Zoe could see the tranquiliser gun slung across his body. As he came towards the lake, he took it off and aimed it at Fredrik.

  Seeing it, Fredrik laughed. Then he picked Lena up and turned to dangle her over the hole.

  “Tell them you did it,” he said to Malin, his voice as hard as the ice under their feet, as cold as the fathoms of water beneath.

  Zoe looked from Fredrik, to Malin, to Jakob. Apparently, they were all crazy.

  “Okay, I did it!” Malin screamed. “I did it! Now let her go!”

  He put her down.

  Then Jakob fired.

  Fredrik screamed as the dart hit him in the back of the neck, and twisted this way and that, trying to reach it.

  With Malin still holding Ebba, Zoe took her chance, and raced forwards, skidding and slipping, thankful for her rubber-soled boots. She scooted out of reach as Fredrik clutched at her, and grabbed Lena. They both fell over, but struggled to their feet, scrambling and sliding away, until Lena was back with her mother and sister.

  “I let her go!” Fredrik shrieked at Jakob, as Malin bundled the girls away. “You’re going to kill me!”

  “No loss,” Jakob said.

  Zoe remembered what he’d said about the tranquiliser—even a small dose can be enough to stop a human’s heart. Oh, shit. She knew now exactly what Fredrik had stolen from Jakob—his inheritance, his father—but surely Jakob wouldn’t actually kill him. She looked at his face, dark and unforgiving. Or maybe he would.

  All at once, Fredrik had composed himself, and was coming towards Jakob. “Give me the antidote,” he called.

  Zoe came closer, but Jakob held up a hand, warning her away.

  “First, I want a confession too,” he told Fredrik. “Tell me why my father gave you everything.”

  “Give me the antidote, and I’ll tell you,” Fredrik countered. “If you don’t, it’ll be too late. I won’t be here to tell you anything, or care about your family drama.”

  That vein throbbed in Jakob’s neck again, but his voice was deathly calm. “Then both our problems will be over.”

  At this, a shadow of doubt came over Fredrik’s face, but he wouldn’t be the one to cave. “No,” he said. “You will have a whole new problem.”

  “Jakob,” Zoe said calmly, as though settling a wild animal. “Do you have the antidote?”

  He shrugged. “No.”

  At that, Fredrik snapped. Despite expecting to drop dead at any moment, he summoned up all his energy, and attacked. Jakob was ready. The men came together, violence exploding in a flurry of slams and punches that had obviously been brewing for years.

  “Stop,” she shouted. “Jakob, stop. He’s not worth it. I know what happened.”

  With one huge shove, Jakob pushed Fredrik to the ice. As he fell, she could see that there were grips attached to the bottom of his shoes. No wonder he’d been standing firm while everyone else was skating. She noticed now that Jakob had the same on his shoes too.

  He turned to her. His lip was split, and there was fire in his eyes.

  “What do you know?”

  But before she could reply, Greta interrupted.

  “Jakob,” she said. “This is serious. We have to help Fredrik. I do not want you in jail for murder.”

  They looked down at Fredrik. There were bright red splashes on the ice around him, from his bleeding nose, but he was still very much alive.

  “Fuck you,” he hissed at Jakob, then spat out a mouthful of blood.

  Jakob smiled, very slightly. “The dart was empty.”

  Then he turned and walked away.

  Thirty-Five

  “Sit still, Fredrik.”

  Greta dabbed at the blood on his face, possibly more roughly than was medically advised.

  “Ungh,” Fredrik said. His nose had ballooned up, but Greta said it didn’t seem to be broken. Privately, Zoe hoped it was.

  Malin was getting the girls settled on a blanket in front of the TV to watch cartoons and have a snack. They seemed remarkably unfazed by their ordeal, and by the presence of their insane uncle in the kitchen. No one had suggested calling the police, and Zoe could see why. With all the complications in this situation, it would open a can of aged and extremely stinky worms. No one was coming out of this looking good.

  After much fussing from Greta, Hakon had packed up his f
ishing gear and headed unsteadily for home. He was indignant, but luckily unhurt.

  “Poor Hakon. That was probably the most exciting thing that’s happened to him for years,” Greta commented as they watched him go. “He’ll have something to tell his wife today.”

  “Thank God he’s okay,” Zoe said, and Greta agreed.

  Then they went back to the house, Greta with the two girls squeezed on the back of her snowmobile, Zoe with Malin behind her. She wasn’t exactly a welcome passenger—Zoe was fuming at being taken in by her double-cross confession about Fredrik being the wolf killer. But it had to be done.

  They left Fredrik to start walking back, now that he was no longer on death’s door. Once the girls were safely inside, Greta went back to meet him on the path, saying she’d better get him safely out of the forest at least, and make sure he was okay to drive.

  When they got back to the house, Zoe came and found them sitting at the kitchen table, where Greta was trying to clean him up. His nose had started bleeding again, and he winced and pushed her hand away as she stuck a cotton ball in it to stem the flow.

  Zoe sat down opposite, and looked right at him. “I know you blackmailed Alvar after Jakob’s accident.”

  “What?” Greta said.

  Fredrik shook his head. “That old fool. He’s lying.” The injury made his voice thick, but the disdain was clear as day.

  “He didn’t tell me. Claire did.”

  At the mention of Claire’s name, Greta tensed over the first aid kit, but Fredrik didn’t miss a beat.

  “She’s an idiot,” he said, adjusting the cotton ball. “She’s as guilty as any of us. Alvar, and Claire, and Oscar.” His eyes flicked to Greta, but she remained silent now, her lips pressed together.

  “You took Jakob’s place in the business.” Zoe said. “And you took his father too. You know things were shaky between them anyway—forcing Alvar to shut him out of the company must have been the last straw.”

  “So dramatic.” He rolled his eyes. “Jakob doesn’t want to sit behind a computer all day.”

  She knew that was true, but it wasn’t the point. “He deserves a father.”

  “He always hated Alvar,” he scoffed. “Even after his mother died.”

  “You really are an asshole,” she told him. “There’s still time for them. You might be a narcissistic, egotistical loner who’s incapable of having a real relationship, even with your own family, but other people aren’t like you.”

  He looked at Malin, who had just come in. “Some people are,” he said.

  But Zoe was on a roll now.

  “Why did you lie to me, even after I rescued Ebba?” she asked Malin. “You said Fredrik fancied me, so he was trying to drive Jakob away. What bullshit. You said you owed me, but you still lied to me.”

  Fredrik snorted, then cursed as a fresh gush of blood rushed from his nose, taking the cotton ball with it. He pressed a handful of tissues against it as he spoke.

  “You lied to everyone, from the day you arrived.”

  “Yeah, we covered that already,” she snapped at him.

  He grinned. “You know, you’re single again now. My offer is still there. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “Oh, piss off Fredrik.” She turned to Malin. “You know the truth about me now, so come on—let’s even the score.”

  Malin looked nervously at Fredrik, but he just shrugged, so she perched on a chair. Zoe sat opposite her.

  “It was you who left the antifreeze under my cabin.”

  She nodded.

  “And did you come here in Fredrik’s car last weekend, to leave poison for the wolves?”

  She hesitated, and Zoe leaned forward. “We know it was you already.”

  At that, she nodded again. “It was me.”

  Zoe had a sudden thought. “Who was looking after your children? Did you leave them alone and drive all the way here?”

  Finally the words flowed. “No! I would never do that. I had a babysitter. I want to keep them safe—and they’re not safe with the wolves around here.”

  “But they’re not a danger to people.” At least she’d thought they weren’t, before she saw that report.

  “Well, there was that attack north of here…” Fredrik pointed out.

  Malin went white. “I didn’t see anything online about that.”

  “Huh. You must have missed it,” he said casually, tipping his head back and dabbing at his nose.

  But Zoe stared at him. “How did you know about that?”

  In the second it took for him to compose his reply, she knew he was lying. “I saw it on a…news website,” he said.

  My God, why didn’t she think of it before? “You posted that report on Jakob’s database.”

  With everything blown open now, he didn’t bother denying it. “It was too easy.”

  “Malin, see?” Zoe said. “The only report of a wolf attacking a human was made up by your screwed-up brother.”

  But Malin wouldn’t be convinced.

  “If you had children here, it would be different,” she said. “I’ll do anything to keep them safe. You don’t even know how many miscarriages I had before they arrived. I can’t lose them.” The tears started, and she grabbed for the tissue box.

  Oh, no. Zoe reached over and patted her arm. She couldn’t even imagine how awful that must have been. She looked at Greta, who nodded, and a look of empathy passed between them.

  But Fredrik groaned, showing zero sympathy. “You shouldn’t even have children. They’ll grow up and be as crazy as you.”

  Malin got up and slapped his face, catching his nose, and he roared in pain. Then she went to leave, pushing past someone in the doorway.

  Jakob.

  Seeing Fredrik there in the kitchen, he turned on his heel and left.

  Despite the pain, Fredrik laughed, and Zoe wanted to follow up Malin’s slap with a smack in the head. But then she laughed too.

  “It is funny, isn’t it? I have my job, but now I don’t want it. You want your job, but now you won’t have it. Maybe you should come to London and work in PR. I think you’re made for it.”

  As she stood up, Stina walked in. She took in the scene—Fredrik bleeding, Greta shocked, Zoe riled up—and confusion and concern came over her face.

  “Malin says you’re leaving. What’s going on?”

  “It’s a long story,” Zoe said, grabbing up her coat from the back of the chair. “Really, really long. Fredrik will tell you.”

  Then she went after Jakob.

  Thirty-Six

  By the time she got out the front door, he was already going back down the path to the cabins.

  “Jakob, wait,” she called.

  He didn’t stop, but his pace slowed a little, and she caught up and walked alongside him. His lip was swollen, but overall it looked like he’d come off better than Fredrik.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He stopped and turned to her.

  “Why was he there?”

  “Greta didn’t want him to drive until she knew he was okay.”

  He looked off to the trees, his jaw clenched.

  “Come on,” she said. “What if he wasn’t okay, and he had an accident and hurt someone?”

  As soon as the words were out, and she saw his face, she realised what she’d said. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “It’s fine,” he said. “I know what you meant. You were all worried about Fredrik.”

  “We were worried about you too, but you left. And I know you didn’t want to see me.”

  His eyes flicked to her face, then away.

  “I’m going, okay? That’s what you wanted. I’m not doing my last week. I’m going today, at two o’clock.”

  She waited, but he made no protest. There would be no last-minute declarations, no sudden request for her to stay after all. But she knew that already. She looked at her watch. One thirty. Half an hour left to breathe the same air as this complicated, compelling man. To look at his beautif
ul, angry face. To fix things.

  “Don’t you want to know what Claire told me?”

  The set of his shoulders eased just a little. “Yes. I do.”

  She nodded. “Come on then.”

  They went down the snow-dusted path, under the bare, tangled branches, and across the clearing to her cabin. Ever the gentleman, he opened the door for her. As they went in, she saw him notice her luggage sitting in the entrance, but tried not to look at it herself.

  “Sit down,” she told him as they took off their coats.

  Twenty-eight minutes. She’d better talk fast. Even if it made no difference to the two of them, she might leave him with some kind of family again.

  She sat opposite him, took a breath, and launched in.

  “Okay, here’s what Claire told me. After your accident, Fredrik found your dad replacing the truck tyres with winter ones, to avoid prosecution.”

  His head jolted back, as though her words had flown across the room and hit him. But she kept talking.

  “I suppose Fredrik saw a chance there. Basically, he blackmailed Alvar into giving him a job at Defrost Digital, and also giving Claire and Oscar money for their own startup project, because she was injured. He’s been holding it over Alvar ever since.”

  She watched as the implications of her words sank in. He was silent, but the anger and pain were evident on his face. She longed to go over and touch him, hold him, kiss the darkness away—but he wasn’t hers to comfort any more.

  “What a freaking mess,” she said. “I was thinking…were you even old enough to be driving the truck?”

  He nodded. “I was old enough. But I didn’t have a commercial license.”

  “So…maybe he was protecting you too?”

  “If he wanted to protect me, he would have made sure the truck had winter tyres.”

  He looked so agonised that she tried to think of another angle. “Or the driver should have?”

  “It doesn’t make any difference now.” He closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose, obviously trying to process everything she’d just told him.

  “Is all this why you left to go travelling? Before you went to university?”

  He nodded. “I just had to get away.”

 

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