Hidden in Snow (The ?re Murders, #1)(16)
Lena keys in another message:
Just wanted to check that everything’s okay? Love Mom She presses send.
The constant mom anxiety that never really goes away is gnawing at her. It makes Harald smile. Amanda’s eighteen —she’s officially an adult. She can do what she likes, he says.
It’s time for Lena to let go.
Not while she’s living at home, she always replies.
As long as Amanda is living under her roof, Lena wants to know where her daughter is.
She stands there with her phone in her hand, unable to explain why she’s so uneasy. ?re is a safe place, a good place to grow up in. The most common crimes are driving offenses and drunken tourists getting into a fight when they’ve partied too hard.
But things can go wrong. Car accidents happen everywhere, even in quiet places. With all the snow that fell last night, visibility would have been poor. If Amanda was walking home late, she could have been hit by a vehicle.
The image of an unconscious body in a ditch flickers through Lena’s mind.
“Stop it,” she murmurs to herself.
Should she call Harald, see if Amanda’s contacted him instead? She does that sometimes when she knows Lena will be on the warpath. She selects his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. No doubt he’s in a meeting as usual.
She hadn’t intended to call Amanda but does it anyway, although her daughter hates Lena trying to reach her during the school day. The phone rings and rings, but there is no answer.
She must be in class. Or maybe she didn’t bother going in at all; she might still be fast asleep at Ebba’s. There’s a simple explanation.
Lena hears a knock, and a woman pokes her head around the door. It is Cia, one of her regular patients, who has a bad shoulder, which benefits from ultrasound treatment.
“Is it okay to come in?” Cia asks.
“Of course.” Lena puts down her phone. “Good to see you.”
Her body is crawling with anxiety, but she forces herself to smile.
Everything is fine. It has to be.
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17
Harald Halvorssen closes his notebook with a little bang. He is sitting behind his desk; the head of finance has just left the room after a budget review.
It wasn’t good news. There are far too many gaps and not enough money to go round. The political coalition of four parties comprises strong-willed individuals all pulling in their own direction.
The situation isn’t new in ?re. The last few terms of office have seen various forms of political upheaval.
Traditionally his own Center Party has dominated, with occasional interruptions by a red-green majority. Now he’s dependent on the latest upstart party, For the Good of Western J?mtland, which promotes local issues and holds the balance of power.
Somehow he’s going to have to make everyone understand that further cuts will need to be made. ?re is growing like few other rural communities, but the tax rate is already high.
He leans back on his chair and links his hands behind his neck. His belly sticks out. Work takes up so much of his time that he doesn’t get around to exercising as much as he used to. These days he would never complete the Vasaloppet cross-country ski race in six hours as he used to.
His gaze falls on the framed photograph on his desk: the whole family up on ?reskutan. It was taken last Easter, with the sun shining brightly as it often does in April. They’d taken a packed lunch. The twins were excited and could hardly stand still; even Amanda was smiling at the camera.
Harald sighs. He doesn’t understand why she and Lena fight so much. Lena typically speaks her mind when she gets annoyed, and Amanda reacts by slamming doors and yelling. He tries to mediate as best he can, but sometimes it’s like a minefield; whatever he does, he upsets somebody.
It’s easier to handle the opposition in the council chamber than to get his wife and daughter to agree.
His phone buzzes; a message from Lena.
Can’t get hold of Amanda, has she contacted you?
Harald glances at his watch. Quarter to five. Where has the day gone?
He quickly replies:
No.
Another message arrives in seconds.
She hasn’t been in touch! Do you think something could have happened?
Harald sighs again. Lena gets worked up too easily. This isn’t the first time Amanda has ignored her mother’s texts.
Secretly he sympathizes to a certain extent; Lena can be too controlling. She always wants to know exactly where he and the kids are; otherwise she becomes stressed and starts catastrophizing.
He’s about to respond with some reassuring words when there’s a knock on the door.
Mira Bergfors is his right-hand woman. Her long black hair shines in the glow of the overhead light, framing her finely chiseled features.
Harald feels fortunate to have such a beautiful PA. She’s thirty-one, married with a three-year-old daughter named Leah.
“You’re a free man,” she informs him with a smile. “Your next meeting has been postponed, so you can go home.”
Harald rarely gets away from the office before six thirty or seven; this is a rare luxury. It’s Friday and Lucia, but he had a meeting booked at five.
“Excellent,” he says, returning Mira’s smile.
“I was thinking of leaving too.” She turns away, and Harald can’t resist admiring her well-shaped backside in the black jeans that fit like a second skin.