Chapter Sixteen
M?RTEN GLANCED AT the clock on the wall in the squad room.
It was just after three. He couldn’t find the enthusiasm he needed to complete the paperwork for the break-and-enter down on L?nggatan Road.
The wealthy resident hadn’t been present at the time, but the intruder must’ve known about her impressive collection of diamond jewelry, because they’d targeted the safe without touching anything else in the house.
All M?rten could think about was Summer.
Maybe he should head home early this afternoon.
There wasn’t much going on at work anyway.
It’d been a slow couple of days, apart from the break-in, and the paperwork M?rten still needed to catch up on from before he left to go on holiday to do.
The Chief had been riding his ass all week to get it done.
Chief Inspector Rydberg was still unhappy about Jacob’s defecting to America.
And even though it wasn’t M?rten’s fault, it seemed because he’d been his police partner for so long, that Rydberg was taking his dissatisfaction at losing one of his best cops out on M?rten as the next closest thing.
M?rten put down his pen. Yes, he’d go home early, surprise Summer, Rydberg be damned.
Maybe they could take a picnic out to Moro Beach, where he could show her some of the archipelago.
It was a bit of a drive, but it shouldn’t be too crowded.
Or maybe they could find somewhere more secluded and have a replay of last night.
At the mere thought of the previous evening, his cock sprang to attention.
M?rten quickly wiped away the image of Summer lying in the long grass, head thrown back in abandon, as he moved inside her.
Shit, the last thing he needed was to get a hard-on at work.
He slid his gaze sideways toward the desk that Aurora sat at on his left.
She had her head down, a set of headphones on, as she wrote out yet another report on the jewelry heist. Thank the Lord she was so fixated on her task, she hadn’t even noticed him daydreaming, let alone working himself into a later.
He returned to his paperwork until his libido had subsided.
But he wasn’t really concentrating. All he wanted was to get home.
Summer was a distraction from his work, but not necessarily an unwanted one.
M?rten had spent the last few years working long hours and weekends, building his career, his focus on his job, to the detriment of his personal life.
Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing if he took a step back for a few days.
Summer was only here for one more week, so maybe he should make the most of it.
“Hey, Aurora,” he said as he pushed his pile of paperwork to the side.
“Yeah, boss.” She lifted her head, pulling her headphones to the side, and looked at him with her intense gaze, reminding him of an eager puppy, straining to be allowed off the leash.
“I’m taking off for the day.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He had to hide his smirk at her crestfallen expression; she’d been hoping he was about to tell her they had a new job to attend.
Had he ever been this keen when he’d been a rookie?
He couldn’t remember. She readjusted her headphones with a sigh and went back to stabbing impatiently at the ream of forms on her desk.
His phone vibrated in his pocket just as he stood to slide his chair away from the table. It was Jacob. M?rten grabbed his bag and headed for the door, answering with a cheery, “What’s up?”
But he got the opposite of a pleasant reply from Jacob, whose tone was somber. “We think Tyrone King might be in Sweden,” he said without preamble.
“What?” M?rten stopped dead in the middle of the hallway.
“We got a hit from one of his aliases late yesterday. It looks like he boarded a flight to Stockholm two days ago.”
Shit. This wasn’t good. “And you’re just telling me this now?” M?rten was on the move again. He needed to get his car. Needed to check on Summer. He took the stairs to the underground car park two at a time.
“Sorry.” Jacob sounded grim. “This guy has a lot of aliases. It’s taken us a while to track them all down.
It was Miller who found it. She only came across it this morning, and when we cross-referenced it…
” M?rten could imagine Jacob’s face, his mouth tight with contrition.
This wasn’t his fault. Or Miller’s. Not exactly.
But it was still a giant stuff-up. There could be only one reason he was coming to Sweden.
“What identity is he traveling under?”
“Amir Kingadams. We think it’s his middle name, along with an addition to his last name.”
Simple yet effective, M?rten thought. He made it to the parking lot and ran to his car.
“We’ve got agents checking cameras at both airports to confirm, but I wanted you to know as soon as possible,” Jacob continued.
“Thanks. Keep me updated. I’m on my way home now.” M?rten ended the call, and as he jumped into his vehicle, he tapped his phone to pull up the app and check on Summer’s location. It showed that she was still at his house, and he let out a gust of relieved air.
Once he was on the road, he tried to call Summer, but it rang out and then went to voicemail. He tried again with the same outcome. This time, he left a message telling her not to leave the house and that he was on his way home. She could be in the shower, or taking a nap. He wasn’t worried. Yet.
Fourteen minutes later, he pulled into his gravel driveway.
The house looked quiet and serene. But when he pushed the front door open, his stomach lurched.
Summer’s bicycle rested on its stand in the middle of the room, but there was no sign of her.
Only his head moved as he took in the rest of the space.
A mug was smashed on the kitchen floor. Signs of a struggle?
Everything else seemed normal, nothing else broken or out of place, but M?rten’s guts were churning with alarm.
Summer wasn’t the type of person to leave broken crockery lying on the floor.
“Summer,” he called out, but he was already striding toward her bedroom.
Without knocking, he pushed open the door.
It was empty. Then he went to the bathroom.
The door was ajar, and he already knew what he’d find before he got there.
More silence. Then he saw Summer’s phone on the kitchen table.
She wouldn’t go anywhere without her phone. And now he had no way of tracking her.
“Shit, shit, shit.” He had his cell out of his pocket even as he darted up the stairs to his bedroom, although he knew she wouldn’t be there.
“She’s gone. She’s fucking gone,” he shouted into the phone. Part of him wanted to punch the wall, wanted to scream at Jacob. If the FBI had done its job, this would never have happened. He wouldn’t have left her alone if he’d known Tyrone was in the country.
“Shit.” Jacob didn’t ask what M?rten was talking about or even if he was certain.
He knew there was only one person M?rten cared about this much to make him swear like that, and that his ex-partner would’ve already conducted a thorough search of the house.
M?rten didn’t panic about nothing. “Have you called it in yet?”
“No.” M?rten’s breath was coming in short, sharp pants.
He needed to regain control of his emotions.
He was no good to her if he was a physical and emotional wreck.
“Fuck, what if he’s killed her?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Before he could govern the thought. A pain so sharp it was as if someone had sliced him with a knife shot through his chest. He couldn’t think anymore. If Summer was dead…
“M?rten.” Jacob’s voice was just as sharp as the imaginary knife stabbing straight through M?rten’s heart. “Get on the phone and call in backup. Now!” There was an edge to Jacob’s tone M?rten had never heard before. “Then call me back.”
The urgency in Jacob’s voice cut through the stupor clouding M?rten’s brain.
“Yep. Yep. Will do,” he replied. He was standing on his front porch with no idea how he had got there.
Staring out into the surrounding forest, still hoping to see her miraculously walk out of the trees in one piece.
She could be anywhere by now. It was his fault she was missing. He hadn’t done enough to protect her.