Hidden in Snow (The ?re Murders, #1)(51)

She goes out onto the road and looks around, then returns to the garden. At last she finds him.

Ludde is lying on his side next to the garage wall. His fur is covered in snow, and he isn’t moving.

Lena rushes over. “Ludde!”

When he sees her he tries to raise his head, but with little success. He doesn’t even bark; he simply whimpers when he sees his owner. Lena has to half carry, half drag him back into the warmth of the house. He weighs around sixty pounds; it takes a huge effort to get the limp body into the hallway. They collapse together just inside the door.

Lena sits up, sees Ludde’s dull eyes. The pupils are pinpricks, and he is drooling in a way she has never seen before. White mucus drips onto the floor. His breathing is rapid and uneven, and fitful shudders pass through him.

“What’s happened to you?” Lena cries.

She runs her fingers up and down his limbs, his belly, but finds nothing that can explain the state he’s in. He has no injuries as far as she can tell; he’s not bleeding. It’s just as if all the strength has seeped out of him.

While she lay sleeping.

Self-loathing bubbles up in her breast, but she has no time to wallow in shame. She needs to wake Harald so that he can look after the twins while she takes Ludde to the vet.

She races up the stairs, flings open the door, but the bedroom is empty. The bed is untouched; the pink blanket is still on the floor where she threw it yesterday.

She was sure that Harald was still asleep. He can’t be gone too . . .

Lena clutches the door handle, tries to stop herself from panicking. The most important thing right now is to get a hold of a vet.

Where’s her phone?

When did she last use it? Presumably last night, but it’s not in the back pocket of her jeans. Could it be in Amanda’s room? She runs to her daughter’s room, scrabbles around in the bed, finds it among the crumpled sheets.

They usually go to the nice vet in Unders?ker. Feverishly she googles the number, calls as she hurries down the stairs and drops to her knees beside Ludde again.

Please, please let there be someone in the clinic even though it’s so early!

The phone rings, but no one answers. Eventually the call is disconnected. Lena stares at the phone, tries again.

This time an answering machine picks up. After some hesitation she describes Ludde’s symptoms as best she can.

She begs them to call her as soon as they get this message.

It’s hard to talk; she is in tears, and her voice is thick with emotion.

Ludde whimpers piteously. His breathing is labored now.

As if he is dying.

The thought is unbearably painful.

Not Ludde too.

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53

Daniel was back at the station at six thirty in the morning.

Now he is sitting at his desk, trying to catch up with the reports of various interviews that were conducted yesterday.

The team has begun to work through those who were at Ebba’s party. The attendant from the top station of the VM6

chairlift has been questioned, but she hadn’t seen anything suspicious. Nor had she noticed Amanda on the chair when the lift started up in the morning. Forensics are still trying to get into Amanda’s computer, and a colleague in ?stersund is going through the family’s finances and use of credit and debit cards.

They are also checking to see whether Amanda’s phone has connected to one or more of the cell towers in the area, but it usually takes a couple of days for the information to come through.

Anton comes in and sits down. “I just had a weird call.”

“Okay?”

“It was a woman who introduced herself as an investigator with Stockholm City Police. Her name is Hanna Ahlander, and she deals with domestic abuse. She said she had some information about Amanda, or rather her boyfriend, Viktor.”

Daniel frowns. “Why would Stockholm be interested in our case?”

“Apparently she’s up here for personal reasons and has found out something she thinks we ought to know. Since she’s worked in that particular field, I asked her to come in.

Better to hear whatever it is face-to-face, I thought.”

Anton rubs his eyes. He must be every bit as tired as Daniel after the weekend’s activities. However, he doesn’t have a baby waking him up during the night. Anton is single and lives alone. During the three years they’ve known each other, he’s never mentioned a girlfriend.

“She’ll be here soon,” he adds.

Daniel is still thinking about Ylva Labba’s preliminary findings. She saw no signs of sexual abuse, which means there must be other reasons behind Amanda’s abduction.

He gets to his feet.

“Come with me to the conference room.”

An overview of the material will help him to think more clearly. Virtually the entire noticeboard is covered with pictures now, new photographs taken from different angles.

Daniel studies the close-ups of Amanda’s body. The pale figure is covered with a thin layer of snow. She is curled up, as if she made one last attempt to get warm before she died.

“Why were you taken?” he murmurs. That’s the big question.

Anton reattaches a picture that has come loose at one corner. “Could we be looking at blackmail?” he wonders.

“Some kind of revenge? Retribution?” So many possibilities.