Run Run as Fast as You Can (2 page)

My dad exhaled and leaned back in the couch. Maya put her head on his shoulder. The two of them had gotten really close lately and it pleased me immensely, even if I was a little jealous. It was good for her to have a male role model now that her dad had pulled out of her life completely.

"It's like finding a needle in a haystack, huh?" he said.

"It is. But I have a feeling that it will happen one day. I mean these girls can't just have disappeared, can they?"

"Well … yes, as a matter of fact, they can," my dad said. "Not to try and destroy your hope, but they could have been killed and buried in the ground without anyone blinking. They were stolen and sold as slaves to people who did what they pleased with them. People who have no respect for human lives. Did you at least get some stuff for your next book?"

I nodded. "I have so much material, it's overwhelming. Did you see that
Miss Polly Had a Dolly
hit the bestselling list this week?"

My dad nodded. "Yes and I'm very proud of you. I can't believe you now have two national bestsellers."

I chuckled. "Me either." I looked at my dad. I was happy to see him so calm, even if he was still suffering from his broken heart.

"Talked to your mom lately?" he asked.

"I called her from Poland. She invited us to Spain, but, as usual, I refused. Told her we don't have time."

"You should go, Emma. Don't punish your mother for the rest of her life. You'll regret it when she’s gone."

"Do you regret not having spent more time with your mother after all she did to you?" I asked.

My dad shrugged. "I guess not. But still. She is your only mother."

"I hate her for leaving you," I said.

My dad sighed. "Hate is such a strong word. I'm angry with her too, but I still think you need her in your life."

"That might be true, but I'm too busy now to go visit her. Besides, the kids have their school and, with the new book, I want to write about the parents searching for their lost children; I really can't see when I will be able to go."

"I have to say, I'm really looking forward to this one," he said.

"You should see them, Dad. That look in their eyes, the small hope that they might find their daughter again. It's so heartbreaking, especially when the search doesn't lead to anything. But they have been so grateful. Tenna's parents, whom we followed on this trip, were just so thankful that we had found out more about where their daughter had been. I just wish we had found her."

"And how was travelling with Officer Bredballe?" Maya asked teasingly.

"Morten has been so great through everything. He's the one doing all the work, really. I only tag along and interview the parents along the way. He's the one tracking the girls down, through police channels and helpers in the Polish underground. It's like a puzzle, but he has been amazing."

"I bet he has," Maya said.

I ignored her remark. Yes I had been travelling a lot with Morten these last months on these trips and, yes, we had had several dinners and talked for hours in the hotel lobbies, but that was all.

I got up from my chair, then walked over and kneeled next to Victor. "Hi buddy. Mommy's back. How have you been?"

Victor didn't even look at me. I wondered if he had even noticed that I had been gone. He kept writing numbers in his notebook like it was the most important thing in the entire world. I sighed, and rose to my feet again. "So what does a girl have to do to get a cup of coffee around here?"

3

November 2013

L
ISA
R
ASMUSSEN WAS
running as fast as she could on the treadmill at the local fitness center in Nordby. In the body-sized mirrors covering the walls, she could see her butt that still seemed three sizes bigger than before she had her third child.

She had moved to Fanoe Island less than a year ago and was still adjusting to the island lifestyle here. She did enjoy the wide sandy beaches and the fresh cold air blowing from the North, making her feel refreshed and strong again. But everything seemed so small here and people were just so … so incredibly slow. It annoyed her to have to wait for her lunch at the café Mimosa, the only one serving organic, low-carb and fat-reduced, non-gluten food on the entire island. It annoyed her that there was only one supermarket in the entire town and that they didn't sell her favorite brand of tofu.

Lisa sighed as she stopped running. She showered and gathered her things, then drove home. Her nine-month-old baby was whining in the backseat and Lisa tried to calm her down by singing her favorite song.

Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop,

When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,

When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,

And down will come baby, cradle and all.

Margrethe seemed to calm down a little once she heard her mother's gentle voice. It pleased Lisa. She parked the car in the garage, then took Margrethe out of her car seat. She started whimpering again, then she gripped Lisa's hair and pulled it. It hurt, but Lisa kept calm.

Once inside, she put Margrethe in the playpen, then started making dinner. One after another, Amalie and Jacob came home and she fed them sandwiches before she told them to go upstairs and do their homework.

Christian came home a little past six o'clock and wanted a beer before dinner, but Lisa told him he couldn't have it.

"It'll ruin your appetite."

Grumbling he went to the living room and turned on the TV. The new job was going well for him. That was why they chose to move there, because of a job offer he couldn't resist. Lisa was pleased to be able to support his career. She used to have one too, but since they had Amalie eleven years ago, she had stopped working at her career, wanting to be there for her family. It was very unusual in Denmark, where all women seemed to want big careers.

Lisa peeled the potatoes while shaking her head, thinking about her stroll in the park earlier in the day. All that garbage people threw everywhere. It was disgusting. And why wasn't anyone cleaning it up? This was a nice town and should remain that way.

Lisa kept peeling the potato and didn't realize she had cut herself. She gasped as she saw the blood run from her index finger into the sink, dripping onto the potatoes. She looked at the blood running down her finger for quite a while, studying closely how it found its way down and how the drops were shaped at the end. Why some women didn't like to see blood, she couldn't understand. To Lisa there was something so fascinating about it, so alluring that she couldn't stop staring at it.

"When will dinner be ready?" Christian asked, as he stepped inside the kitchen.

Quickly, Lisa turned on the faucet and washed the finger. Then she found a paper towel and wrapped the finger in it before she turned to face him.

"Sorry honey. What was that?"

"I asked when dinner would be ready. I'm starving."

"I'm working on it," she said.

"Could you give me an estimate? Is it like half an hour or an hour? Cause then I'll probably go down to the pub and meet with the guys from work."

"I guess it’s more like half an hour," she lied, knowing he wouldn't have enough time to go.

"So, is it precisely half an hour or most like half an hour? ‘Cause I could easily make it down and back real fast if I left now."

Lisa took the potato peeler in her hand and imagined stabbing Christian with it in his throat. She pictured how he would look at her, startled, taken aback, searching for an answer, while she would just look at the blood running down his torso, wondering if she would ever be able to get it all off his white shirt.

"Lisa?" he said.

Lisa looked at him with a distant smile. "I'm serving salmon for dinner," she said, then turned around and grabbed another potato in her hand.

4

November 2013

I
T WAS COMPLETELY
dark when she opened her eyes. Simone felt dizzy and tried to sit up, but had to put her head back on the floor to not lose consciousness again. It took a few minutes before she remembered.

"Liv," she mumbled and tried to lift her head again. Pictures of her crying daughter on the back seat of the car flickered in front of her eyes. "Where is Liv?" She said a little louder. "Tim?" She called out.

But there was no answer.

"Where am I?" she asked the darkness.

Desperately, she tried to feel the floor around her. Something crackled when she touched it. She stretched out to try and reach further away. It seemed the floor was all covered in what felt like newspapers. Simone tried to crawl across it while feeling her way with her fingers. Her hand bumped into something. It was an edge of some sort. It felt like wood. She touched it and felt it upwards. The wood stopped but now there was something else blocking her way. Something that made her heart stop. It was wire. She felt it again. It had holes that she could put her fingers through. Was it a net? Or maybe some kind of wired fence?

Simone tried to feel how far it went, but the darkness scared her. She was afraid of moving too much and falling and hurting herself. Why was it so dark? There had to be some kind of light somewhere. She turned her head to try and find any kind of light, something coming from a window or under a door. There seemed to be a little light coming from somewhere far away from her, near the floor. Probably a door, she thought. Maybe it was a way out? At least there had to be a light switch near the door, right?

The newspapers crackled underneath her as she moved frantically around, feeling her way towards the light, but was stopped by more wire fence. She was sobbing slightly now, wondering where she was and how she had gotten there, but most of all, fearing that something had happened to her daughter.

Oh, God, please let me see her again. Please don't let anything happen to her. I promise I'll never complain about her crying again, I promise I'll never dream about running away. I didn't mean it, God. I really didn't. I was just tired and exhausted. You know that don't you?

The thought that something might have happened to her daughter fed the growing panic. Where was she? Was she still in the car? Was she still crying in the back seat? Who would find her there?

"Tim?" she called again. "Hello? Is there anyone who can hear me?"

She grabbed the fence and tried to pull herself up to her feet. She succeeded, despite the strong dizziness, only to realize she couldn't stand up straight. Her head hit some sort of ceiling made from more wire. Simone gasped and patted it to feel how big it was. That was when her hand accidentally touched something that made her pull back and throw herself back to the floor with a whimper. She curled up in the corner and looked up to see if she could spot what it was that she had touched. It had felt soft and warm. There was no doubt in Simone's mind that it had been an animal of some kind. Simone shivered and stared into the darkness. She sensed movement. There was a sound. Yes, something was definitely up there. She wasn't alone.

What is this place? Where am I? Please someone get me out of here. Oh, Tim, please find me.

Simone heard more movement from above her and looked up with a gasp. Something touched the net and made a loud noise, like it was grabbing on to it. Simone stared into the darkness and wondered. Those small dots that were constantly moving. Were those eyes looking at her?

Another sound startled her. A small shriek almost like a bird or a baby crying. But it wasn't a bird or a baby, that much she knew. The sound was too different, much different than anything she had ever heard before. Sometimes it was like screaming, then more like a clicking.

Then something came towards her, she saw it move and sensed it come closer, but it wasn't until it grabbed her hair with its claws that she screamed.

5

October 2003

T
HOMAS HAD GIVEN
Ellen the flowers anyway. He didn't know what else to do with them. After running back to his car and waiting till she and that handsome man had both left, he had walked up to the door and placed the flowers on the doormat for her to see when she came home. Crying, he had run back to his car and driven home. Now, he was sitting in his living room, staring at the wall, wondering where Ellen was and what she was doing with that guy.

Thomas looked at his phone on the table in front of him, then picked it up and found Ellen in his contacts.

"Hello?"

She sounded happy; not out of breath like they had been in the middle of something. There was a lot of noise in the background sounding like they were out somewhere. Maybe in a restaurant? Had he taken her to dinner? Had he taken her to
La Petite Cuisine
? Thomas swallowed hard to calm himself down. Why did she sound so happy?

Because she is with him and not you, you freak. What's not to be happy about? He is handsome, he is tall, he pleases her; you don't.

"Hello? Is there anyone there?" she asked.

Thomas opened his mouth with the intent to speak, but no words left his mouth.

"Hello? Who is this?"

Thomas breathed heavily, fighting the urge to cry.

"Who is it?" A voice asked in the background.

Probably him, probably Mr. Handsome. Do you think he is holding her hand while she is speaking to you, do you? Do you think he is looking her into her eyes while caressing her hand and arm the way you dream of doing? You're a fool, Thomas. She doesn't love you. Nobody loves you.

"No one," he heard Ellen's voice reply. "Probably a wrong number. I can hear someone breathing, though." She paused, then laughed. "Hello?" she asked again. "Listen you pervert. I'm not into this kind of kinky stuff. Find someone else to breathe at."

Then she hung up.

Thomas stared at the phone as it went silent, then put it back on the table. He bit his nails while looking at the phone's display, hoping she would call him back.