Chapter Ten
JIRO WAITED BY the front door, listening to Aurora talk in rapid Swedish as she explained something to her father.
He could barely believe his luck. Aurora had agreed to go with him.
He wasn’t sure what had made up her mind.
When she’d taken that call from Viskten, he was sure she was going to tell him everything about Taro’s disappearance and the blackmailing attempt, then the police would barge in and take over.
Viskten, or even worse, that ineffectual detective inspector from the other night, would take charge and Jiro would lose all control.
If that happened, he was terrified he would never see Taro again.
Jiro knew that giving in to a blackmailer’s demands was the last thing you should do, but right now he was running out of options.
This way, at least he controlled everything that happened in the next few hours.
If Taro died now, it would be on his head, but it was a burden he was prepared to carry if it meant he could keep his family failings out of police hands for now, and perhaps protect Taro and his reputation. It was a matter of family pride.
Jiro wasn’t stupid. If Taro survived and made it back to America in one piece, he might well end up in jail for his criminal activities.
But surely that was preferable to Jiro never seeing his brother again; for him not to have to be the one to break it to his wife and children that their husband and provider was dead; for Taro’s unborn child to never know his father.
Taro had a lot of reasons to keep on living.
One of the most important—to Jiro’s mind at least—was Kenichi’s health.
If he woke up from his coma to find out that not only was his eldest son a gun-smuggling criminal, but he’d been killed by a bloodthirsty Yakuza gang, Kenichi might not survive that double blow.
And Jiro needed his father to get through this.
They might be at loggerheads sometimes, but he would never wish his father ill.
While he waited, Jiro had already donned a jacket, gloves, beanie and boots, all borrowed, courtesy of Karl.
His boots were still wet, and he had to admit they’d been inadequate, and while Karl’s boots might be half a size too big, they were waterproof with ankle protection, and built-in studs on the sole to handle the ice and snow.
Karl’s thick, waterproof jacket came almost to Jiro’s knees, which felt a little awkward and bulky, but Aurora assured him it would keep him much warmer than the blue puffer he’d been wearing.
That hadn’t even been waterproof, which was one of the reasons he’d been so cold walking to find Aurora’s house this morning, as the melting snow had seeped through the fabric.
The other small win he had today was convincing Aurora not to change into her police uniform.
Although the blackmailer/ kidnapper/ whatever they were, had decreed she should be included as the exception on this macabre treasure hunt, they’d also stated no police.
So he figured they probably didn’t want her wearing her uniform, which might attract undue attention.
She was still carrying her gum, however, underneath her jacket, the same as she had yesterday.
“Right, let’s go.” Aurora appeared beside him, the corners of her mouth turned down, in a sign he was fast becoming to recognize as her trying to rein in her emotions.
It seemed Karl wasn’t happy with being left on his own again, and he briefly wondered how she coped leaving him to go to work every day.
She clearly had her own struggles with Karl, and he felt suddenly like his problems with his own father were petty in comparison.
Jiro opened the front door, but before he could walk through it, Aurora handed him something that looked like a pair of plastic soles for the bottom of some giant’s shoes.
“Snowshoes,” she explained, tucking another pair under her arm. I have no idea where we’re going to end up on this wild goose chase, but with the amount of snow we’ve had in the past few days, we may need them.
Jiro said nothing as he threw them in the rear of her car and got into the passenger seat. She got in beside him, and then turned and said, “Now where to?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps just start driving. Maybe head toward the hospital. They might be waiting back there for us.” He wasn’t sure how this all worked, and maybe he didn’t really want to.
“Or they might be tracking you already,” she replied darkly, backing slowly out of the driveway.
But they got their answer sooner than they expected. The second she took off down her road, a ping sounded on Jiro’s phone, and he looked down to read the text.
“Jesus Christ. How did they know where we are?”
“What does it say?” she cut in. “The how isn’t really as important as the what right now,” she clarified, and he guessed she was probably right, although this whole tracking thing was freaking him out.
“Go back to the cabin in the clearing. That’s all it says,” Jiro huffed. Then he looked up and locked eyes with her. “I guess it can mean only one thing.”
She nodded her acknowledgement. There was only one cabin they had both been to in the past few days; the one they had found Kenichi comatose inside.
She drove in silence for a few moments, both of them digesting this new clue.
He wondered what might be waiting for them when they got there.
Would it be the same as yesterday? Would they find Taro drugged and nearly frozen to death inside?
At least the sun had risen above the horizon, and the snow had stopped falling since he’d been inside Aurora’s house, so the roads wouldn’t be inundated again. These dark mornings were hard to take.
Aurora broke the silence. “I really want to talk to Tory. You know the staff member who saw your dad talking to someone in the hut right before he disappeared?” she added when he gave her a puzzled frown. “That stranger could be the clue to this. He could even be the person behind these texts.”
“Okay.” That made sense now that he thought about it. After they’d found his father, their little chat with D?vvet had completely left his mind. “But I’m worried that someone is watching us. Perhaps even tracking your phone? And if we go to Tory’s house, they will know,” she continued.
Jiro stared down at his cell in his hand as it became blindingly clear that this was the reason the blackmailer knew where they were. “Should I ditch it?” he asked, already winding down the window and getting ready to throw it out of the moving car.
“No,” she nearly shouted. “Without your phone, we have no way of contacting this person.”
“Fuck.” He threw it on the floor between his feet, not wanting to touch the horrid thing.
But he knew it meant they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t get rid of the phone, but that would mean whoever was watching them would know every minute detail of where they went and when. Which ruled out a stop at Tory’s house.
“I’ll put in a request with a colleague of mine, Senior Constable Andreas Tuckburg, to see if he will do some under-the-radar work for us.
He should be able to contact Tory and find out what she knows without letting on he’s doing it for me.
I’ve been taken off the case,” she admitted.
He turned to look at her, the first time since they got into the car.
Her dark hair was tucked beneath a light-gray beanie, but a few wisps escaped to frame her face.
Aurora seemed to struggle to tame her hair; it was always getting loose from her low bun, and she was constantly tucking it behind her ear.
But he liked the way her untidy hair seemed to be a constant source of frustration for her.
It gave her a slightly vulnerable look, softening the severe edge of the professional cop persona.
Made her seem more human. More approachable.
“Shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Because I didn’t tell you,” she snapped in reply.
“What does that mean, you’ve been taken off the case?” This could have all sorts of bad connotations. Perhaps they wouldn’t have access to vital information when it became available. She might be excluded from everything the—
“It means I’m really going rogue on this. So you better bloody hope we find your brother,” she said, cutting into his thoughts.
“Oh, God.” He hadn’t realized how much of a bad position he’d also put her in. And now he could read the fear hovering at the back of her eyes. Fear she might stuff this up. Fear of the repercussions she might face later on. Fear that she might lose her job over this.
“I’m so sorry, Aurora.” And he meant it. Perhaps they should forget all about this. Perhaps he should take this to the police after all; maybe they were both in over their heads.
“I know,” she replied with a sigh. Then, as if sensing his doubts, she added, “But I think we made the right decision. Inspector Viskten has been called away to another job, and so they put Dalstrom as lead, and while I should trust my superior officers, after his erratic behavior the other night…” she didn’t need to finish her sentence.
Jiro had as little faith in the detective inspector as she seemed to.
So that was it; they were going down this path, for now at least. He closed his eyes briefly.
This had all gone to shit so quickly. He really, really wished he hadn’t involved her, but she was in it now and seemed intent on following this through, so he should respect her decision. They were a team now.