Hidden in Snow (The ?re Murders, #1)(17)



He knows what it’s like to caress that soft body.

He suddenly realizes they’re at work. He quickly adopts a neutral expression and raises a hand in farewell. “Have a nice weekend,” he says.

He starts a message to Lena, then changes his mind and calls her instead. She answers right away, sounding agitated.

“I still haven’t heard from Amanda! I’ve texted her and called her several times!”

“Have you spoken to Ebba? Maybe she went back there after school,” Harald ventures, trying to calm her down.

“I tried earlier, but she didn’t pick up.”

Harald looks out of the window. It’s stopped snowing, and a pale crescent moon shimmers against the dark sky.

“I’ll stop by Ebba’s house on the way home and check,”

he says. “I was about to leave anyway.”

“Okay.” Lena sounds a little better.

“Listen, don’t worry so much.”

“But what if something’s happened to her?” Lena says.

“Something bad?”

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18

It’s beginning to feel like the weekend at ?re police station.

Daniel is in the staff room with the two local officers, Anton and Raffe. They don’t really hang out together, but they get along well. It’s become a habit to have a cup of coffee on a Friday before it’s time to go home.

It’s been a quiet week; they can tell the season isn’t yet in full swing. However, Daniel is still looking forward to a few days off. He’s wondering if Alice is old enough to take on a trip. They could ski to Fr?? mine with her safely tucked up in a sled and have lunch in the café.

Anton is in full flow, telling them all about a new alto saxophone he’s hoping to buy; he plays in a jazz band in his free time. He’s interrupted by the district communication center, which is based in Ume?.

Anton takes the call while Raffe flicks through a magazine that has been left on the table. His full name is Rafael Herrera; his family came over from Chile as refugees in the seventies. He grew up in Str?msund and is a keen snowboarder. He even competed at the national level on the junior team.

Both he and Anton have been stationed in ?re for considerably longer than Daniel, although Daniel is the only one who actually lives in the village. Anton has an apartment in Duved, while Raffe is in the church village of Kall, because that’s where his girlfriend comes from.

Anton hangs up and turns to his colleagues.

“A girl from ?re seems to have been missing since yesterday evening. She went to a Lucia party, but hasn’t been heard of since. She didn’t show up in school today.”

“How old is she?” Raffe asks, scratching his ear.

Just like Daniel he has a short beard, but Raffe’s is almost black while Daniel’s is paler, tending toward ginger.

“She turned eighteen in September. Her mother called it in.”

“What’s her name?” Daniel asks.

Anton checks his notes. “Amanda Halvorssen. She’s at the high school in J?rpen and lives on Pilgrimsv?gen in ?re.”

“And where did this party take place?”

“Five minutes from here—Trollv?gen.”

“She’s probably at a friend’s,” Raffe says, yawning.

“And she’s forgotten to call her mom.”

Raffe is probably right, Daniel thinks. Most teenagers who are reported missing have simply ended up at a friend’s place. At that age they don’t think, their impulse control is poor, the frontal lobe not fully developed. The ability to analyze consequences is lacking in every way.

He remembers what he was like back in the day in Sundsvall, the parties where he got too drunk and passed out on someone’s floor. His single mom was sitting at home, worrying herself sick, but that didn’t stop him.

He takes a gingerbread cookie from the tin in the middle of the table. The lid shines in the glow of the red Advent candle bridge on the windowsill.

“Her parents have called everyone they know,” Anton informs them. “No one’s seen her since last night.”

Daniel glances over at the window. The sun went down several hours ago, and it’s at least minus twenty out there.

The forces of nature shouldn’t be underestimated.

“Apparently her mother sounded very worried,” Anton adds.

Daniel frowns. In the city, they wouldn’t investigate after such a short period of time, unless there was a reason to suspect that a crime had been committed. The norm is to wait at least twenty-four hours, but he doesn’t like what he’s just heard.

Partying kids and minus twenty degrees isn’t a good combination.

He finishes his coffee and gets to his feet.

“I think we should go and have a chat with the family,”

he says. “Just to be on the safe side.”

Anton also stands up. “I’ll come with you.”

Anton grew up in ?re, and he knows all about the dangers of the weather. How small a human being is in relation to nature’s bitter winds and icy temperatures.

Around here a teenager who isn’t warmly dressed can freeze to death in a few hours.

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19

The latest message from Lydia lights up the screen of the phone in Hanna’s hand.

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