Rebekka Franck Series Box Set vol 1-5

by Willow Rose

  I exhaled and shook my head. "Yes Peter I do believe you'd give me the world. I know you'd give me anything money could buy. But money doesn't buy happiness. And working makes me happy. Like it or not, I'm going."

  I grabbed my bag and put my iPad in it along with my notepad and phone. Then I took my jacket from the closet in the hall. I kissed Julie and held her tight.

  "It's okay, Mommy. It really is." Then she whispered in my ear. "Can't wait for Spain."

  Peter followed me to the door. I turned and looked at him. I stroked his cheek gently. He hadn't shaved since we got there. Stubble looked great on him. His hair was getting gray on the sides.

  "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'll be back tonight."

  Peter sighed and held on to my wrist, then kissed it. He leaned over and kissed my lips. The warmth from his kiss made me almost regret I was going.

  "See you later," he said.

  21

  SEPTEMBER 2001

  SHE BOUGHT HIM A bike. He had been asking for one ever since he was four and his dad asked the question:

  How will he ever ride a bike?

  It had tormented Valdemar ever since and his mother knew that, but up until this day she had refused to buy him a bike just because he wanted to impress his dad. The fact was, it was impossible for the boy to ride a bike and it was way too dangerous. He would only get hurt and his dad would be less impressed than ever.

  It was a bad idea.

  At least that was what she thought until the day she finally gave in to the boy's pressure. Every afternoon when they walked home from school, Valdemar would stop in front of the bicycle store and glare at the many bikes. There was one, especially, that held his attention. It was blue, sparkling blue with a wide seat and, most importantly of all, it looked exactly like the other kids' bikes. It wasn't made for handicapped boys. It wasn't different.

  So one afternoon, Anna finally gave in to those big, pleading eyes. She bought the bike while the storeowner looked at her strangely.

  "He won't be able to ride it, you know," he said.

  Anna looked at the boy who refused to listen to sayings like these. The same boy who had taught himself to use a spoon, who had rebuilt their house by adding things everywhere so he wouldn't need anyone's help with anything, the boy whose life up until now had been a study in engineering.

  Then she smiled. "Oh, he will," she said. "He'll find a way."

  "Suit yourself," the storeowner said.

  Never had Anna seen her boy as proud as when they brought it home and she placed it in the garage where Valdemar wanted it. Now he was working on something in there that he didn't want her to see until it was done, he told her and she was waiting in the living room, biting her nails, wondering what he had come up with. Worrying that his dad would be angry or let him down once again.

  Michael stayed away from the house more and more. Often a week would pass by where they didn't see him. He was on the road, working, meeting clients he told her if she asked. But the trips were getting more and more often now and Anna started wondering what he was doing all this time. Staying in hotels? Eating alone in restaurants? It was no secret he didn't enjoy being at home anymore. He hadn't enjoyed it ever since Valdemar was born.

  Anna sighed and hid her face in her hands. She missed him so much. For six years now she had been on her own with this. She had been alone, abandoned, having to make all the decisions herself, and raising Valdemar on her own trying hard to protect him from getting hurt by his father's resentment towards him. It was heartbreaking and wore on her strength. The constant worrying about her boy had made her old. Her body was skinny, her breasts hanging. Her hair had turned white overnight, right before Valdemar's first birthday. It was the constant worrying, the doctor said. It happened from time to time.

  "At least you won't have to worry about the greys popping up one after another like most people," he had told her to cheer her up.

  "But I look like an old woman. At the age of thirty?"

  "I think you're beautiful," the doctor had told her and Anna had blushed. It had been a long time since anyone had told her she was beautiful.

  While waiting in the living room for whatever wonder her boy had now come up with, she grabbed her long white hair and looked at it. It wasn't too bad. At least she had learned to live with it, just as she had learned to live with the fact that her husband was never going to accept their son and his handicap. He saw it as a failure, like she had failed him as a wife for giving him a son with no arms.

  "If only he could see what I see," she mumbled, as she heard the door to the garage open and Valdemar call for her to come.

  22

  AUGUST 2012

  I TOOK PETER'S BOAT and sailed to the shore where I borrowed Peter's Land Rover to go to Hasle. I didn't enjoy the fact that I left Peter and Julie alone on the island. There was an old fishing boat in the yard they could use to get to the main land if they really needed it, but still, I felt like I was cutting off their only connection to the world outside the island.

  "They'll be fine," I mumbled and checked my hair in the rearview-mirror. I parked the Land Rover across the street from the Hotel Bellevue. The street was packed with cars and photographers; camera crews were crowding outside the building. I drew in a deep breath and looked at my phone. I had received a text from Sune.

  MEET YOU AT THE FRONT ENTRANCE

  I looked at it again with my heart pounding in my chest. Was I ready for this? Was I ready to face him again? I put the phone in my bag and decided I was.

  I walked up towards the crowd of working journalists and photographers. A journalist from TV2 News was in the middle of a live broadcast, speaking into the camera.

  "… while they said after the first incident in Brabrand, they were certain this was nothing but a one-time incident, the police are now wondering if there is actually an organized gang behind these attacks. They are asking the public for help, since the killer left no fingerprints or any trace behind. Back to you Lisa."

  I snuck past her and into the crowd. I elbowed my way, ducked under cameras to not be seen until I spotted him. As usual, he stuck out in the crowd like no one else. Tall and skinny and the only one here with a Mohawk.

  My heart dropped. We had spent so much time together over the last several years. So many great articles, so much fun with our kids, so much love between us. Could I just throw that away? And for what? Pursuing some happiness and family life that I didn't even know if I wanted after all?

  Julie was right. I needed to figure out my life soon.

  I exhaled and walked closer. Sune was already taking pictures. I put my hand on his shoulder. He turned around and our eyes met. For one moment, we both forgot everything. It felt like a punch in my stomach. It completely knocked the air out of me. At that instant, looking into his eyes, seeing him so close to me again, I felt heartbroken. Heartbroken with longing for feeling his arms around me again. Heartbroken for wanting so badly to kiss those lips again. And, worst of all, I sensed he felt it too. He stared at me like he was searching for words, looking for something smart to say, to break this moment between us. I watched his lips part, but no sound came out. All the people around us became nothing but a distant buzz.

  Speak for crying out loud. Say something.

  It was Sune who said the first word. "Hi."

  I smiled. "Hi."

  He bit his lip, then lowered his eyes. And just like that, the moment was gone. "Let's get to work," he said. "What do you need?"

  "I … uh … I was thinking some pix of the main building. The front entrance, maybe even all the journalists in front of it to document how big of a story it is."

  "Already got all that."

  "Great."

  I cleared my throat. I felt like crying. Being this close to him again reminded me of everything we had together. Of all that I had given up to save my marriage. I felt sick to my stomach with longing for him. I pushed it away. I swallowed my tears and my emotions along with them.

  "What's n
ext?" he asked.

  "Let's get out of this crowd. We're not getting anything here that all the others won't have."

  "I hear you."

  We elbowed our way out and walked around the building. "I want to talk to the employees," I said.

  Sune followed me. How I loathed this strange air between us. Why couldn't we just go back to how things were? Why did everything have to change all of a sudden? I hated it.

  We walked around a corner and bingo. Three people who looked like hotel employees were smoking behind the dumpsters. I turned and winked at Sune.

  "There is our story."

  23

  AUGUST 2012

  THE BARTENDER HAD SEEN the girl often at the bar, he told Henrik. She came there to pick up guys and he thought she was a prostitute, but she could just be a girl looking for men. It was hard to tell. Whatever name she had given to Henrik the night they had spent together, he couldn't remember it, no matter how hard he tried. But the bartender knew it.

  Annabelle Svendsen.

  After getting her name it didn't take Henrik long to look her up. There were only two people by that name in all of Denmark. And one of them lived in Elsinore, in the other end of the country. But one lived in Silkeborg, half an hour’s drive from Brabrand.

  Henrik called the police from the car he had rented on his way there and spoke to officer Jansson, asking him how the investigation was going. The officer told him they were very busy, but they would let him know as soon as they knew anything. Henrik considered asking about the girl, about why they hadn't arrested Annabelle, but that would be the same as admitting that he had lied when he said he slept alone that night.

  "So, there are no suspects yet?" he asked. "No arrests made?"

  "No. None so far. We'll let you know, Mr. Fenger."

  "Fucking morons," Henrik groaned as he hung up. Why hadn't they arrested the girl? Well, it was all the same. He was actually glad they hadn't. Or else he wouldn't get his revenge, now would he? In his head, the story was as clear as they get. He had offended the girl, she was angry with him because he didn't want to be her boyfriend, because he didn't want to take her out to fancy vegetarian restaurants and chitchat about beetroot and zumba-classes.

  But why she had chosen to take his kidney? Henrik had no answer to that question. Maybe it was just her way of getting back at him, the freaking cunt. Maybe it was bigger than that. Maybe she was even making money off of his kidney, earning a living on selling his organ. Henrik didn't care what the motive or purpose was. All he knew was that he wanted to see her in pain for what she had done. Unlike the police, he wasn't going to let her get away with it.

  Henrik slammed his fist into the wheel of the car several times in anger, then drove off towards Silkeborg.

  Annabelle Svendsen lived in an apartment close to the center of town. Henrik found a parking space a block or so away and walked the rest of the way so he wouldn’t be seen. As he stood in front of the front door to the apartment building, he wondered how to get inside. He considered just pushing all the buttons to all the apartments until someone thought he was the paperboy and buzzed him inside, when suddenly someone, a young girl, walked out of the door. He smiled at her and grabbed the door before it shut.

  "Thanks," he said.

  The young girl smiled, then disappeared down the street. Henrik walked up the stairs, checking every nametag on the doors on the way up. On the third floor, he found her name.

  A.Svendsen

  Henrik chuckled. It was almost too easy. It was like the universe wanted him to find her. He lifted his hand and put his finger on the doorbell. Then he waited. Henrik fixed his hair and put on his most devilish smile.

  The door opened. The girl looked at him with astonishment.

  "You?"

  "Me."

  "But … What are you doing here?"

  "We need to talk."

  "Sure." Annabelle stepped aside. "Come on in."

  Henrik smiled widely, then walked past her into her apartment. Annabelle closed the door behind him.

  "I'll make us some coffee," she said.

  24

  AUGUST 2012

  "LISTEN TO THIS SENTENCE. The first thing I saw was his arm. When I walked inside the bathroom, his arm was sticking out from above the bathtub. "

  I looked at Sune who was as thrilled as I was. We were sitting in the back seat of Peter's Land Rover, each with our laptops on our laps. I was writing my article and Sune was uploading pictures.

  "Look at this," he said and turned the screen. "Look at the dread in her eyes. You can just feel how freaked out she is."

  "That is a beautiful picture," I said. "Perfect for the story."

  We had landed a scoop. Nothing less. The three men smoking behind the dumpsters had helped us find the cleaning lady who had first discovered the body and she was willing to talk to us in her apartment, not far from the hotel. We were the only ones to find her and get the interview. She had even given me a new story that I wanted to write next week when I got back to work. She was about to be thrown out of the country just because she had left her abusive husband. I promised to run her story and maybe try and wake up the politicians.

  Now I was writing all she had told me about finding the body in my article. When I was done with that, I wrote another article about the police and how they had no clue in this case. I had spoken to them earlier on the phone and gotten the latest details for my articles.

  "How about this one?" Sune asked and showed me another picture of the girl that he had taken while she was talking to me.

  "I love the way she is covering her mouth with her hand," I said.

  "It's perfect too," he said.

  I looked at him and smiled. This felt good. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed working with Sune. He was the only one who always understood where I wanted to go with a story, what kind of emotions I wanted to evoke in people reading it. And his pictures always matched what I was going for.

  Jens-Ole freaked out when he heard we had the girl. "I knew you two would deliver," he yelled. "I knew it. I just knew it."

  I chuckled and put him on speakerphone so Sune could listen in as well. "The articles are almost done. There is one about what the police are doing as well. Just a small one, since they're screwed on this one. They have no idea where to turn, how to deal with this."

  "That's what I thought," Jens-Ole said. "Everybody's doing the police-angle and the possible Eastern European angle, so we're not going to do much of that. I like the personal touch to our stories. I'd like more of that."

  "Well now you have this one. It's really good. She was very honest and brutally detailed. You better read it to make sure it's not too much."

  "I don't see how it could be," Jens-Ole said.

  "Do it anyway, alright?" I said. "I don't want any complaints afterwards."

  "I will. Don't worry. Oh … by the way?"

  I closed my eyes. I knew that sentence. He had more for us. "Yes? You want something else too, don't you?"

  "Well just one more thing."

  "It seems there is always just one more thing," I said, but I didn't feel angry about it. I was happy to be on a story again. I was thrilled to be out on the road and mostly I was enjoying spending time with Sune again. Working on a story gave me the right to be with him without feeling guilty about it. Not too guilty at least.

  "Sara, the sweetheart, has been working hard on this all day and she finally succeeded this afternoon. You can't say no to this."

  "Let's see about that," I said, wondering about Peter and how he was going to take it. "What've you got?"

  "Sara found the kidney-guy. She spoke to him earlier on the phone and he agreed to do a solo interview. You know, details about what happened and what it felt like to wake up missing a part of you and all that. So far, he has only done that one short TV interview on the first day in the hospital. Since then, he has refused to talk to any media."

  "Until now, huh?"

  "It's a scoop. He hasn't done any longer
interviews. This is yours."

  I looked at Sune who was nodding eagerly.

  "Don't think we'll pass on that one," I said.

  "Great. Wonderful. It's in Silkeborg. You might have to spend the night there. He has agreed to do it late tonight. He's staying there, but only tonight, he said. He'll go back to Roskilde tomorrow."

  "Ah, he's from Roskilde on Zeeland. Makes it an even better story for Zeeland Times."

  "It sure does. Meet him at the lobby of Hotel Mercury at nine tonight."

  "We'll be there."

  25

  AUGUST 2012

  "SO … HOW ARE YOU?" Annabelle asked, looking truly concerned.

  What an actress.

  Henrik could play a game too. He smiled and tilted his head. "Never better," he said.

  "But …But I thought you … I mean I saw you on TV. They said you …" Annabelle looked down like she didn't want to say it out loud.

  Nicely played. Making me believe you're all innocent and scared by my story. Very nice. Done a lot of acting before, have we?

  "Ah that. Well, at least I have two kidneys right?" Henrik laughed manically and grabbed a Danish butter-cookie that Annabelle had put on the table in front of him.

  "It must have been really scary walking up like that?" She asked sounding concerned.

  I'm not buying it, bitch. Too forced. Too much.

  "Oh yes it was. It certainly was a frightening experience. What was it the police called it? Oh yes. Unfortunate. An unfortunate experience it was." Henrik took another cookie and chewed it with his mouth open just to annoy her.

  "But you're alright now? I mean they let you out of the hospital?"

  "Except for the fact that I am missing a KIDNEY, yes, I'm completely fine," he said, yelling the word kidney, causing Annabelle to jump. Then he laughed. Henrik picked up the coffee cup and slurped loudly as he drank. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.