Chapter 28
Ella unclipped her life preserver as Leif caught the dock at Ringpynten.
They’d only made small talk since leaving Jomfruland.
Mostly Leif had frowned at the clouds with a faraway look in his eye, and that was fine with Ella because she didn’t want to talk either.
She debated whether she should tell him about Ragnar’s warning that her questions about the past could affect Leif too.
She felt no loyalty to Ragnar, but she doubted any good could come out of telling Leif.
Besides, she planned on leaving soon. Once she did, she’d probably stop chasing the past altogether.
The boat engine idled, and waves broke against the rocks. Ella was much more confident on the dock now; she was getting her sea legs.
“I’m glad we went on this trip,” she said. “I met Nina. I swam in the sea. And I learned several things about my mother. Thank you for bringing me. I’m happy I met you.” She wrapped her arms around Leif.
“I’m glad too.” He rested his forehead against hers, and she raised her mouth to kiss him, but he only gave her a peck on the cheek. As he stepped away from her, his gaze moved to the dark waters, where it stayed.
“Is everything OK?” she asked with concern.
“Yup. I just have a lot on my mind, with Erik and all. I can’t stop thinking about the things Ragnar told us last night.
I’m not sure what to make of it all. Ragnar tends to exaggerate to make the story more interesting for both him and the listener.
It could be that he and my father and the other local men barely knew Sara.
So I need to speak with Erik, and he’d better give me answers. ”
There was a sadness to Leif that hadn’t been there when they first met eleven days ago.
She wondered if all her digging into the past had put a strain on him.
She considered again that it might be time to get back to her life in Colorado.
She could scatter some of Mormor’s ashes around Ringpynten, then bring some back to Boulder, find a nice spot for her in Little Bird, and show her just how successful she’d become.
Taking care of Mormor’s ashes was the one thing she still hadn’t at least attempted to do, and once that was done, she’d fly home.
But how could she leave Leif? It seemed like she had discovered her other half somehow, as if they were soulmates—if one believed in those things.
Not to mention the way the air crackled continuously between them.
But if she stayed, she knew she’d continue asking questions.
Maybe that wasn’t the right thing for Leif.
“How about I come and get you at four,” he suggested. “We can find Erik.”
“I’d like to see you, but I’m not sure I want to talk to him. Maybe it’s best to focus on the now.”
He said nothing. His brow twitched with an emotion she couldn’t read.
When Ella reached the cottage, she turned to wave goodbye, but Leif had already steered into the channel. She had a feeling that leaving would be tougher than she’d expected.
The smell of something rotten hit her as she stepped into the foyer. She dropped her bag on the shoe rack and clamped her nose between her fingers. The air tasted like ammonia and smelled of spoiled fish.
She walked into the kitchen and froze. Fish overflowed from the sink—fish with bulging eyes and gaping holes and jellied intestines.
Her eyes watered at the stench, and she gagged and backed away from the horror until she bumped against the stove.
Red streaks drew her gaze to the refrigerator: Go home—written in what she assumed was fish blood—was the message across the front panel.
Her vision grayed at the edges; she saw spots and thought she might faint but caught the stove handle for support. Don’t freak out. Think.
From where she stood, she could see into the sitting room.
The vandal had dumped a huge cod on top of her sketches, which were stacked on the table.
The scotch she’d left there was gone. Had Inger done this?
She couldn’t rule out Charlotte either. Honestly, anyone could have done this, but why would they?
She wondered if they were still in the cottage, and sweat beaded on her back.
Scared and outraged in almost equal measure, she eyed the door in case she needed to escape.
A fly buzzed around a single dead cod lying on top of her sewing machine, but everything else was quiet.
She grabbed rubber gloves from the cabinet and the large washing bin to use as a trash can.
Breathing through her mouth, she snapped on the gloves, snatched the bloodstained fish from the sink, and flung them into the bin.
It was clear that somebody desperately wanted her gone from Lyng?r.
She rushed to the sitting room, where she inspected the urn that held her grandma’s ashes and was relieved to see that the vandal hadn’t damaged it.
She retched as she began scooping up the monstrous cod lying on her sketches.
Guts dangled from the fish, the metallic scent of blood filled the air, and her stomach heaved.
Dropping the cod into the bin, she wished she had hazmat gear.
She looked wistfully at the sketches, but they were covered in fish slime and beyond saving. She threw them away too.
Ella heard a creaking sound from somewhere upstairs, and she reflexively looked toward the ceiling. Her arm hair stood on end and a chill shot through her. Whether or not there was still an intruder, she didn’t want to be there a second longer.
She ran outside, still clutching the bin, but she had no plan: There was no phone to call anyone, and she didn’t even know what the heck to do with the rotting fish carcasses she was carting around. Gulls flew in and begged for the fish.
“Have at it,” she said sarcastically as she dumped it all on the ground and rushed toward the hill that led to Mia’s store.
It was the only place she could think of going.
She couldn’t remember ever feeling this vulnerable and alone.
She began to sob. Her doubts about leaving Norway vanished—she didn’t need this headache.
She had braved the water, but she saw no reason to stay for this.