Chapter Four #2
“We need to talk to this woman,” Jiro said, leaning across the table to look Aurora directly in the eye.
This wasn’t good enough. Tory’s observations of another man raised more questions than it answered, and they couldn’t just leave it there.
“She might remember something else about the guy.” Jiro wanted to condemn Dávvet as well and ask him why he hadn’t volunteered this information to the detective inspector earlier.
But then he remembered how the cop had just waltzed in and taken over.
Dávvet hadn’t had the opportunity at first, and then Dalstrom had acted like such a know-it-all, the reindeer herder probably took offense and decided, fuck him.
“Hmm.” Aurora made a noncommittal humming sound that could’ve meant anything.
“Do you have Tory’s home address?” Jiro asked impatiently, his eyes not leaving the big man’s face.
“Like I said, you can come back and talk to her tomorrow,” Dávvet offered, pursing his lips, which made his beard bristle slightly.
“Thank you, we might do that,” Aurora conceded, dipping her head to study her notebook.
What? Why was she not pushing to find out this woman’s last name?
Her home address? It wasn’t too late. They could speak to her tonight.
But Aurora changed the topic, saying instead, “I also had a quick question about the fencing around your property. Do you have any?”
“Nope, not really,” Dávvet replied. “Everyone around here knows where their boundary lines begin and end; there’s no need for expensive fencing. And our reindeer are allowed to roam freely across all lands to forage for feed, so there’s no need to keep them in. Or out. Why?”
“I was just wondering how easy it would be for someone to access your property if they didn’t come in by the road.” Jiro saw Dávvet’s eyes narrow at Aurora’s question. “Perhaps in a vehicle. Or maybe a snowmobile,” she continued.
“You think someone took the old man? Why would they do that?” Dávvet cut straight to the chase.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Aurora held up her hand, palm facing outward. “We simply need to follow all avenues; that’s all.”
“No car could gain entry to my property across country. Not even a 4WD, and not on any of my back access roads—the snow is too deep at the moment. If a snowmobile came close to any of my buildings, I’d know about it.
My dogs would warn me if there were any strangers around.
” The big man sounded so confident, Jiro found it hard not to believe him.
But how would his dogs know the difference between a busload of tourists and someone who wasn’t meant to be here?
“How close would they have to come before your dogs sounded a warning?” Aurora asked, her tone implying that she believed his dogs could tell the difference.
“A good couple hundred meters,” he replied, tilting his head slightly to one side as he considered the question.
“Okay, that helps a lot, thank you.”
“I never considered the option that he might’ve been taken,” Dávvet said quietly as if to himself. “Is there something going on in your father’s life that would put him at risk? Dávvet was glaring at Jiro now, his direct question taking him by surprise.
“What? Of course not.” He glared back at the reindeer herder.
But this guy wasn’t stupid, he caught on pretty quick to the implications of what Aurora had asked.
And now Jiro considered the implications.
If this were an abduction, it might mean there was more than one man involved.
The insider, wearing the cruise jacket, and then an outsider, bringing in a snowmobile to transport his father away.
Could one man have set this up and then carried it out himself?
Jiro very much doubted it. His mind whirled with all the different permutations.
“Is my family in any danger?” Dávvet half-stood, looming over the table and over Jiro, his fist clenched at his side. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Something I need to know.”
“No, no, not at all,” Aurora interjected. “Please sit down, Mr. Lindgren.” She had remained seated, but Jiro could see her hand grasping the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as she readied herself for action if it were needed.
What the hell? This was getting out of hand very quickly. And this guy was scary. He wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.
“Like I said before, we just want to cover all bases. These are just normal questions that have to be asked. I am absolutely sure that you and your family are in no danger whatsoever.”
Dávvet switched his intense gaze to Aurora, studying her face for many long seconds, before he finally re-took his seat.
Jiro had to applaud her steely reserve; the woman had backbone.
He also had to applaud her ability to lie through her teeth.
Or perhaps it was just sheer optimism, hoping against hope that she was correct and this was nothing more than a simple man wandering off into the snow, and there was nothing more clandestine going on.
But Jiro was starting to have his doubts.
His brother’s phone message this morning had been playing on his mind all day.
Was this what Taro’s vague phone message had been about?
A warning of some kind. There was a niggling suspicion there.
He needed to phone Taro and ask him exactly what he meant.
Actually, he needed to phone Taro and fill him in on the day’s events.
He couldn’t leave his brother in the dark now that his father was officially missing.
Jiro listened as Aurora placated the big man some more, reiterating that she would be in touch if they heard anything, anything at all.
And thanking him profusely for his time.
She was also a born diplomat, it seemed.
He contributed nothing to the conversation, too busy turning everything that’d just been said over in his head, and seething over what hadn’t been said.
At last, she stood and offered her hand to Lindgren, and Jiro followed suit.
But the man’s candid lack of reserve from when he first invited them into his kitchen had evaporated, replaced with barely concealed wariness, and it seemed he couldn’t get them out of the door quickly enough.
It was snowing hard now, and the cold hit him like a sledgehammer to the face—he’d forgotten for a few moments about the snowy night that waited for them right outside the door to the warm kitchen.
Aurora didn’t linger; she took off through the snow toward where the cruiser was parked a few hundred meters away under the trees, pulling on her hat and gloves as she did so.
“Wait.” All his irritation came back as he stomped through the snow after her.
There were so many things he wanted to say, he almost wasn’t sure where to start.
So he started with the thing that irritated him the most. “Why did you let him fob you off like that? Can’t you force him to tell you that woman’s address?
Tell him he’s obstructing an investigation?
We need to see Tory. She could have vital information,” he argued.
Aurora stopped in her tracks and turned around so sharply, he almost ran into her. “How I question a witness is not up for debate,” she said, dark eyes turning flinty and hard. “You need to remember that.”
His anger flared quick and hot. “Who are you trying to kid? You’re just a rookie cop. You don’t know what you’re doing any more than I do.”
“Don’t I now?” she hissed. He could see the dark wisps of her hair escaping from beneath her beanie, blowing across her face in the light still seeping from the windows of the house.
And he could see the furious set of her jaw.
The way she stood up to her full height, chin lifted in defiance.
But he could also see the hurt lurking in her gaze.
Shit. Perhaps he’d overstepped just a little.
She took a step toward him, and he could see the effort it cost her to rein in her temper.
“You need to understand something. Things are different here in northern Sweden. Lule? is effectively a small country town. The locals here are tight-knit, and protective of each other. If you overstep the boundaries and force an issue, they might tell you what you need to know at the time. But then you will get nothing from there on in. Dávvet is wary of giving us an address for Tory for some reason. It could be something as simple as she has a prior conviction or misdemeanor and he doesn’t want to get her in trouble.
Or perhaps she’s hiding out from an abusive ex; who knows?
Whatever it is, we need to respect that.
So, no, I was never going to force the issue tonight.
And if you don’t like it, you can find another way back to town.
” Her voice was as cold as the snow falling around them.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “You’re right, I don’t know how things are up here.
I just thought…” he lifted a shoulder in a part shrug.
He’d gotten carried away. A small flame of hope had been ignited that maybe this Tory woman knew more than she was saying.
And hope was a terrible thing. Rookie cop or not, Aurora didn’t deserve his wrath.
She was doing the best she could. And that was a whole damn lot better than what the detective inspector had done.
He shouldn’t be making her feel like she was lacking.
It wasn’t fair. She was the only one who was helping him, and now he felt like a right jackass.
He knew she wouldn’t really have left him here in the cold and that her threat was an empty one, but he was stupid to have forced the issue.
“Hmm.” She spun on her heel, her reply doing nothing to convince him she’d accepted his apology, and they continued toward the car in silence.
Somewhere out in the dark night, a wolf howled.
The long, mournful sound was drawn out and ethereal, floating over the treetops, tugging at his heartstrings.
The sound was so reminiscent of the wolves he cared for back in San Diego, howling out their ancient songs.
Both humans stopped to listen. He tipped his head back, letting the snowflakes fall on his face, land on his eyelashes and cheeks.
It brought everything back into perspective.
Reminded him that there were bigger things than just his petty worries out there in the world.
He drew in a deep breath of freezing cold air, letting the last of his anger go on his exhale, listening to the answering howl of another wolf, this one farther away.
He didn’t know much about the Swedish wolf population, but he did know it had come back from near-extinction in the early sixties. So he was probably extremely lucky to be hearing this small pack talk to each other in the night. And right then, he decided he needed to find out more.
“Aurora.” He waited until she turned to face him. She was merely a shadow beneath the trees, and he couldn’t make out her features. “I’m truly sorry I said that. I didn’t mean it. You’re doing a great job.” He held his breath, needing her to believe he was sincere this time.
“Okay,” she sighed, but when a woman sighed like that, he knew he wasn’t really forgiven.