“Hello.”The voice was deep, rich and oh so familiar, and she almost danced a little jig of joy.
“Mårten, thank God.It’s me,” she yelled, not sure how long the connection would last, suddenly scared that she wouldn’t be able to get her message across.“They got me.Paige and her eco-terrorist friend, Nathan.”She had no time for niceties.“I escaped and stole one of their phones.But I don’t know where I am.Can you trace this phone?”she asked urgently.
There was a second’s hesitation before Mårten’s explosive reply nearly had her holding the phone away from her ear.“Jesus Christ, Summer.I’ve been so worried.”Then he seemed to collect himself; she could almost imagine his handsome face going from expressive to impassive as his cop brain kicked in.“If I were at work, then yes, I could track you.But I’m at home right now.”This time his tone was less agitated, more commanding, even as her heart sank at the news.She’d been counting on him tracing her.“Can you tell me if you can see anything distinctive, anything out of the ordinary nearby?A large building or a road sign.Something that might help me figure out where you are?”
“No.”Summer stopped walking and turned in a large circle.“I was being held in a small shed.I might’ve been on an abandoned farm, but I’m not really sure.Now all I can see are just lots of trees and the open field I ran through to escape.There’s nothing.It all looks the same.”She began to panic all over again.How was Mårten ever going to find her?She could be anywhere within a two-hundred-mile radius, secreted in the forest where no one would find her.Paige had been right; there was no escape from this isolated place.
“Hang on.What’s that noise?”Mårten’s voice was sharp and urgent.
For a second, Summer didn’t know what he was talking about.She’d been so fixated on the sound of his voice she barely heard anything around her.Then she looked up, spotting a shape in the sky through the tangle of branches.“Yes, I see something.It’s a big white bird, lots of them, actually.They’re circling overhead.”She squinted through the trees, looking in the direction that the birds were flying.There was a sparkle, like sunshine glinting off water.“I can just see a lake in the distance.It looks like they might be heading there.”
“Good, that’s good,” Mårten said.“They sound like they could be a whooping swan.The bird has quite a distinctive call, and they often have nesting sites on inland lakes around Luleå.I need you to head toward the lake.I’ll—”
The phone went flying as Summer was knocked to the ground, the air leaving her lungs in a loud whoosh.
“You fucking bitch.You’re going to die for that.”She felt the cold bite of a knife blade against her throat and she froze.“Now you’re going to do exactly as I say, or you’ll die, and no one will find your body.Do you understand?”The blade was so tight against her neck, Summer dare not move her head to nod in agreement.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Nathan removed the knife and dragged her to her feet.“Walk, bitch,” he commanded, and she did as she was told.Had Mårten got enough information from her phone call to find her?She might not live long enough to find out the answer.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MÅRTEN WAS DRIVING like a maniac, but he didn’t care.He was in his personal vehicle, which had no lights or sirens, and he was weaving through the traffic and speeding up the motorway as if the devil was on his tail.Which he very well could be.
His phone buzzed in its cradle on the dashboard, and Mårten stabbed a finger on the answer button.It was Jacob.“I reckon I might have a clue,” Mårten said without waiting for Jacob’s greeting.“I’m heading over to check it out now.”
“Where?Are you alone?”
“I’m driving toward a lake called Långnästjärn, about half an hour out of town.And yes, I’m alone.Rydberg didn’t think my lead was strong enough to follow up.”Mårten couldn’t hide his scathing tone.“He’s still got a forensic team at my place, as well as people canvassing the area to see if anyone saw anything.And he’s tasked Aurora and Tuckberg with looking into CCTV footage.But it’s all happening too slowly, Jacob.”
It’d been five hours since Mårten had returned home to find Summer missing.Rydberg had been quick to set up a crime scene and a search area; Mårten couldn’t fault him on that.And Tuckberg was good at his job; if there was anything to find on any of the cameras, he or Aurora would find it.But it’d take time.And time was Mårten’s worst enemy.He couldn’t just stand around and do nothing.
“I realize you’re anxious.”Jacob’s tone was soft.“But you shouldn’t go without backup.”
“I had no choice,” Mårten barked.“You should understand that, of all people.”Mårten was referring to the way Jacob had dropped everything when Nikki had been in trouble, going against explicit orders and boarding a plane to America just to protect her.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Jacob sighed.“So, does this have something to do with Summer’s phone call?Where did you get your intel?Why does Rydberg think it’s not worth sending a team?”
Mårten had phoned Jacob soon after Summer had been cut-off mid-sentence.Of course he’d tried to get her back.He’d rung and re-rung that number, desperate to hear her voice.What’d happened to her?Had she just run out of reception?Or had something more sinister befallen her?He’d never felt so helpless in his life.
The phone she was calling from turned out to be a burner, so there was no way anyone at HQ could pinpoint its location.It was so frustrating that he was practically yelling when Jacob answered.Jacob had calmed him down, telling him it was a good thing she’d called; at least they knew she was still alive.He then told Mårten that he was jumping on the next plane to Stockholm; he thought he could be of more help on the ground in Sweden.Mårten didn’t ask if he had the FBI’s permission, because Jacob often did things whether or not he had permission, and Mårten wouldn’t have been able to stop him anyway.A tiny part of Mårten was also relieved; having his friend and ex-partner here to help in the search would make him feel a little easier.
“It was something you said that got me thinking,” Mårten replied.“About your use of local knowledge, local geography, local connections might be beneficial in the search, which was why you wanted to come.”Mårten heard an intake of breath on the other end of the phone, as if Jacob was about to comment, but he didn’t wait for his answer.“I called your friend, Petar, over in Jokkmokk.I asked if he could use his Sámi connections to pinpoint a particular spot from the hints Summer gave me.”Those few precious moments he’d talked to Summer on the phone kept replaying in his mind over and over.He desperately hoped he was right.
“Okay,” Jacob replied slowly.“And Petar came back with a possibility?”There was no censure in Jacob’s tone.And while Mårten hoped he hadn’t stretched the friendship too far by contacting Petar without first consulting Jacob, he knew his ex-partner would’ve done the same thing.
Mårten had met Petar once or twice, had even stayed at his house when they’d spent a weekend out hunting moose and then got too drunk to drive home.Mårten also knew that although Petar wasn’t a police officer, he’d be discreet.He knew not to talk about anything Jacob or Mårten discussed with him about a case.So, while Petar had sounded surprised to hear Mårten on the other end of the phone, he’d quickly agreed to help.
“Yes.I told him about the whooping swans flying overhead, and that she was somewhere near a small lake, perhaps even being held on an old abandoned farm.He’d said to leave it with him for a bit, and he’d ring around some people who might know something.He got back to me an hour ago with the name of this Lake Långnästjärn.Supposedly it’s one of the main areas where the swans have a nesting site outside of Luleå.”
“Pardon the pun, but are you sure he didn’t send you on a wild goose chase?”Jacob asked.“There could be plenty of whooping swan nesting sites nearby.”
“Yes, I know.”Mårten was almost stumbling over his words as his excitement grew.“But he also said that a rumor has been passing around the Sámi grapevine of someone squatting on the old Nilsson farm, which has been empty for over a decade.Of lights shining in windows late at night and of a car parked at the back of the house over the past few days.The report came from one of your reindeer herders, who’s been camping near the lake for the last week with his small herd.”
Mårten almost held his breath as he waited for Jacob’s answer.If he didn’t think there was merit in the information, Mårten would start second-guessing himself.
“Right,” Jacob said, taking time to digest the news.Because of his Sámi heritage, Jacob would know even better than Mårten that many of the native Laplanders still lived a semi-nomadic lifestyle.They’d been given free rein to graze their reindeer without restriction across state-owned as well as privately owned land.And their social network was extra-strong to keep the nomadic community linked.
