Mikael scratches his whiskery beard as I stare at the shelves. “Get one of everything,” he says, keen to be out of here.
I eye the bars of Tupla chocolate near the checkout. He pauses to fumble with his wallet and, as the checkout lady turns away, I grab two bars and shove them in the pocket of my coat. When she turns, all she sees is a red-faced idiot girl, embarrassed by her big brother’s presence as she scans the sanitary items. Living in the wilderness has aged Mikael, and his beard covers most of his face. As for me, in my plaits and this stupid smock I’m the picture of innocence.
“Don’t worry,” she whispers and gives me a maternal wink. “It will get easier.”
I wish with all my heart that she could see who I am. I open my mouth to speak, but already she is handing Mikael his change. His fingers bite into my shoulder as he guides me outside. I am a quiet soul, unused to human interaction. My only love is Kukka, the horse that I fight to protect. The horse with a scar running down her beautiful neck. That was my last escape attempt, when I jumped the confines of the paddock fence and tried to leave with her. It’s healed over the course of the year. I have a similar scar on my stomach, as Mikael didn’t want to mark my face. The sound of my beautiful Kukka in pain hurt far more. His cruelties were enough to break the last threads of my spirit. But still there are times like these, when we are out in the open, when I hope. Hope that someone recognises me. Hope that someone takes Mikael away. Hope that Kukka and I can live the rest of our lives in peace.
The journey home is made in silence, and I gaze in wonder at the falling snow. We pass children playing and a giant black dog running off his leash. The children are dressed in different-coloured coats, red, blue, and yellow. I watch them laughing, chasing, falling over and getting up again.
We return to what is now my home. I carry my purchases from the car. Mikael has been to the hardware store. He is a regular there, always making things that you can’t buy in the shops. A ball of dread knots my stomach as we enter our cabin. I’m allowed a once-monthly trip to the supermarket as long as I behave. But my breathing has become out of sync. It feels strange to be out of my room.
I used to stare at the CCTV cameras in the hope that somebody would recognise me, but Mikael knew what I was up to. He gave me such a beating when we got back. Now I walk with my head hung low. Besides, there are no “Missing” posters. If peoplearestill looking, someone would have recognised me by now. Mother lives in England. Mikael said she has started a new family without me. “Out of sight, out of mind,” as they say in the UK.
At least I’ve been able to study. After Johanna died, Mikael bought me every book I asked for and more. Some days he could be kind. He has many different faces and I’ve not yet seen them all. I’ve learned about law. I know everything about horses, my first love. I escape through my books every day. I’m still here, still alive, and nobody except Mikael cares.
Chapter 61
Elea stared out into the dizzying snow, her windscreen wipers working hard to clear her view. The flurry was ending as quickly as it started, but more would come soon. She had turned off the main road and was now being bumped in her seat as she negotiated the track to the cabin where Anu was holed up. It would not be long before her colleagues caught up with her. She didn’t realise that she’d accidentally called Mitch until it was too late. He would have heard the background sounds of the airport. Swann would have dropped everything to hunt her down. She didn’t blame him. He was more afraid for her than for the person she was chasing. Afraid of what Elea might do and of the career she would put at risk. Because he must know that she was chasing someone. Why else would she have come home in such a rush? At least she’d got a decent head start.
She inhaled a sudden breath as the cabin came into view in the clearing. One window boarded, a light behind another. A small rusted yellow car. The broken-down outside porch. She had a blurry memory of her initial door-to-door enquiry, one of many they had made in the hunt for her daughter. Elea had insisted on a return visit, with a proper search to be carried out. She had planned to return herself, but the local neighbourhood officer, a woman on the cusp of retirement, had attended the location and brought a probationer to tag along. The woman who lived here was a recluse, with a sister in Helsinki, if Elea’s memory served her right. Nobody suspected the quietly spoken woman who lived in a rundown wooden structure near the woods. There was still no evidence to say that she’d had anything to do with it, but Elea felt like she was close.
She turned off her headlights and slowed the car as it approached the address. Gently she pressed the brakes, biting her bottom lip as she pulled up a short distance away. Her feet sank into the snow as she stepped outside and, quietly, closed the car door. She was near. The sky sparkled above her. She glanced around the yawning abyss. At the dilapidated wooden cabin planted like a mushroom in the snow. At the backdrop of woodlands that seemed to stretch on forever without a neighbour in sight. She breathed in the silent isolation. Had her daughter been brought here, all those years ago? Yanked from that yellow car? Dragged through the snow? But she had visited; she would have known if Liisa was there...wouldn’t she?
Elea forced herself to keep moving. She stilled as the steps of the cottage creaked, barely daring to breathe as she listened for signs of life. Slowly she tugged on the door handle, surprised to find it open. She supposed you could do such a thing when you lived in the middle of nowhere. She pushed through the screen door. There wasn’t a sound in this place. Nothing except the strong, pulsing rhythm of her heart. Her gun was nestled securely in its holster, ready if she needed it.
She walked through the cabin, adjusting to the darknessand seeking out the hiding places from which someone could ambush her. She entered a large open-plan room, a soft lamp in the corner guiding her way. A thick, cloying dampness caught the back of her throat as she was hit with layers of festering smells. Damp books. Smoke. Rotten food. Mouldy furniture. She quickly stifled a cough. This place had not been lived in for years. A wooden crucifix hung crookedly over a dirty fireplace. Loose strings of cobwebs danced from the rafters, and the bookcase housed an array of...She peered through the dim light, her heart tugging at the sight of an old law manual next to a horse encyclopaedia. Their pages were mottled with mould, curling at the edges. Elea pushed her rising emotions down.Tough times don’t last, her father’s voice spoke in her mind.Tough people do.This was about survival now.
Her senses on high alert, she explored the old cabin, every muscle in her body tense. She glanced at the tracker one more time on Maria’s phone. At the small blue dot, which lay outside this space. Satellites didn’t always get it right, but Anu could be in an outbuilding. She shoved her phone back into her pocket and gripped her Glock. Should she call out for Liisa? Reassure Anu that everything was OK? As she walked through the silent space, Elea listened to her gut. Anu didn’t know she was coming. He had run for a reason. She couldn’t risk making him act it out.
She stopped as the repetitive creak of a door flapping on its hinges cut through the silence. Adrenaline flooded her veins, keeping her senses sharp as she reached the rear of the cabin. The kitchen was a haven of mouldy food wrappers and rusted soup tins. An old fish carcass stared out of a nearby bucket. A dreamcatcher hung from the ceiling. And still Elea did not call out. She rubbed her sleeve against her runny nose, maintaining her grip on her gun with the other hand. She was not dressed for these temperatures. She glanced at the clothing hanging on the back door. Male and female coats. A long pink knitted scarf. A pair of flowery boots. A bridle. A hat. She could not dwell on them now. The door creaked open, revealing a single set of footprints denting the snowy track. It led into the woodlands. To Anu, and to God only knew what else.
Elea followed, each step breaking the fragile stillness as snow crunched beneath her feet. The noise had an oddly rhythmic quality, and she regretted not taking the scarf on the door as shards of cold air stabbed her throat. There weren’t just layers of snow in Finland, there were blankets, with sheets of hardened ice beneath. The swish of blood in her ears was relentless as the cold chilled her bones. Where was Anu? Were these the footprints of a man who couldn’t tie his laces, but was capable of murder?
A flash of white. A sudden screech tore through the air. Elea’s grip tightened around her gun as an owl flew, fast and low. “Jesus!” she whispered on an inhale. She had to get into cover. She was a moving target out here. She walked past the outdoor paddock and the rickety stable within. Her eyes were streaming with the cold, her cheeks and nose slapped red. Everything about this place was hostile. She carried on until she reached the shelter of the woods and kicked snow off her boots against a thick tree trunk. The trees seemed to go on forever. They offered no guidance in her journey, just more of the same. She felt the heat of dozens of eyes boring down on her. There was wildlife in these woodlands, but it was keeping its distance for now. Her ears pricked to the sound of lone sobs. There, in the moonlight, was a figure kneeling in the snow.
“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry. We weren’t the right fit, were we? No matter how hard we tried.” The man seemed oblivious to the cold, his gloved hands clasped together, his head bowed in misery.
Elea cursed the broken branch that cracked under her foot. He spun round and took in the sight of her. It was Anu. Not the blonde haired twelve-year-old boy who had disappeared, but a grown man. He was exactly as Maria had described, but was wearing his dead father’s hat and navy coat. Anu hadn’t been there for his funeral. He had missed so much.
Elea raised her gun. “Hands over your head!” she commanded, her words echoing through the watchful forest.
But the man before her didn’t move.
“Where is my daughter?” Elea shouted, taking a few more steps. “What have you done with Liisa?”
“You look like her,” Anu said, his head tilting to the side. Fresh tears glistened on his cheeks. Everything about him was off-kilter as he delivered a mechanical smile. “Have you figured it out yet? Do you know who I am?”
“I know exactly who you are, Anu. You’re the bastard who took my daughter. What have you done with her?”
“Stay where you are!” Anu shouted, as Elea took another step. He was sitting on a mound of snow beneath a tall pine tree. He stared, exhaling a bitter laugh. “So you care about your daughter...Nobody gave a shit about me.”
“What?” Elea’s frown deepened, her eyes never leaving Anu’s.
“Mama said you investigated my case.” His eyes flicked to the cabin beyond the woodlands. “I stopped to help her. She took me home. Then she never let me go.”
Elea took a breath as the pain played out on his face. She needed to change tack. Anu would only lead her to Liisa if she empathised with him. But, inside, her fury burned. She pushed her personal feelings down and slowly lowered her gun.
“Then tell me. Who took you, Anu? What happened?”
