“I don’t know.” He cast his gaze down. “I…”
Just then they both heard a noise outside. They looked at the window. Someone was coming.
40
“We don’t use these very often,” Gerd said as she unlocked the cabinet. “Mostly for drug testing, those rare times we find someone who seems high. It’s faster to take the sample out here than to drive people in. Oftentimes it keeps things from escalating as much too.”
In the bag: disinfectant, test tubes, needle kit, Band-Aids, labels, the obligatory form to fill out. Everything you needed.
Siri stood behind her, hesitant. “But we don’t have a warrant.”
“That’s a good point.”
Gerd looked around and her eyes lit on the bulletin board, full of old fliers and reminders.New emergency number: 112! Lock the door when you leave! Updated routines for processing suspected sexual offenses.A pun someone had clipped from a newspaper:It’s hard to explain things to kleptomaniacs. They take everything, literally.
“Here.” She pulled down the routines for processing sexual offenses and folded the paper in thirds. “This will do. Now we have a piece of paper to wave around. Do you want to collect the sample? I’ve noticed you’re good with your hands. Nimble fingers.”
“No, I’m fine.”
Siri didn’t say more. What was about to happen didn’t sit right with her. Not only was it against protocol, this kid was only eighteen.
They drove through the dark and up to Skavböke, where theyparked on the road. Siri turned and saw a shadow in the darkness, crossing one of the fields.
It looked like Sander, but she wasn’t sure and didn’t mention it to Gerd.
The house was dark and quiet. Linda Persson’s car was in the driveway. The light was on in Killian’s cabin, dangling there lonely but warm.
“Hey,” Gerd said, the collection kit in her hand. “I don’t think he’s alone.”
They caught a glimpse of a dark mane of hair inside. Someone pulled on a shirt. Gerd raised a curious eyebrow and approached, knocked gently on the door. When it swung open, he stood there looking sheepish, with no shirt and jeans that hung from his hips.
“Good evening, Killian. We need to talk to you.”
Behind him, Felicia Grenberg, wearing only a sweatshirt and panties, was trying to find something.
“Hello there,” Gerd said cheerfully.
Felicia stopped mid-motion and smiled self-consciously. “I was just about to go.”
“We can wait,” said Gerd. “No rush.”
They stepped into the cabin. The heavy scent of bodies struck them. There could be no doubt about what had been going on in here. There was still a blanket on the floor, rumpled and warm.
On the floor, aside from the blanket, a rug had appeared since Siri’s last visit. It was a rough black tongue stretching across the pale wooden boards.
Felicia found her white jeans but lost her balance as she put them on. Killian reached out to keep her from falling over. The two teenagers exchanged glances, and Killian couldn’t help but laugh.
Once Felicia left, Killian seemed unsure of what to do. He had put on a T-shirt.
“Hardly anyone knows,” were the first words to come out of his mouth. “We want to keep it a secret. For as long as we can. We both feel that way.” Killian noticed the sample-collection kit in Siri’s hand. “Is that why you’re here, though?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Gerd, as though this errand were a burden on her. “I’m sorry to show up unannounced like this, but it really couldn’t wait. We need a blood sample from you.”
“Why?”
She looked at the spartan furnishings and sat down in a chair after testing it for stability.
“You could use some cushions,” Gerd said. “How’s that nose of yours?”
