said Patrik. ‘After you’ve been assigned a search area, I’d like you to walk about an arm’s length apart. And move slowly. I know it can be tempting to try to search the area as fast as possible, but there are so many places in the woods where a little four-year-old might be hidden, or … uh … might hide, so it’s better to take your time.’
He raised his fist to his mouth and coughed. ‘If you should … find something,’ he said and paused.
He didn’t know how to go on, and he was hoping the people gathered here would understand without him being more specific. He started over.
‘If you should find something, please do not touch or move anything. It might be a clue, or, well, something else.’
A few people nodded, but most kept their eyes fixed on the ground.
‘So stay where you are and phone me immediately. Here’s my number,’ he said, taping a big piece of paper with his number to the wall of the barn. ‘Go ahead and type it into your mobile. Everybody understand? Stay where you are and phone me. Don’t do anything else. Okay?’
An older man at the back raised his hand. Patrik recognized the man. His name was Harald, and he’d owned the bakery in Fjällbacka for years.
‘Is there any …’ He stopped and tried again. ‘Is there any chance this is not a coincidence? With the farm, I mean? And the little girl? And what happened …’
He didn’t need to say anything more. Everybody understood exactly what he was getting at. Patrik wasn’t sure how to reply.
‘We’re not ruling out anything,’ he said at last. ‘But for the moment, the most important thing is to search the woods nearby.’
Out of the corner of his eye, Patrik saw Nea’s mother come out the front door carrying a bundle of clothes in her arms.
‘All right. Let’s get going.’
The first group of four went over to Gösta to get their assigned area. A helicopter could be heard approaching above the treetops. It wouldn’t have any trouble landing because there was plenty of space on the farm. People began heading for the woods, and Patrik watched them go. Behind him he heard the helicopter make its landing, and at the same time the police vehicle bringing the dogs from Uddevalla turned into the farmyard. If the girl was out there in the woods, they would find her. He was convinced of that. But there was another possibility: she hadn’t got lost. And that’s what scared him.
They’d been searching for the girl all night. More and more had joined the search, and Harald could hear people all around him in the woods. The police had done a good job, and there was no lack of volunteers. The family was well liked, and everyone knew the little girl with the reddish blond hair. She was the kind of child who refused to give up until she won a smile from anyone she happened to meet in the shops.
He felt bad for the parents. His own kids were grown now; two of his sons were helping to search. He’d closed the bakery. It wasn’t a busy time anyway, since the summer holidays were mostly over and there were long intervals during the day when the bell over the door didn’t ring. Although he would have closed even if there was a flood of customers. He felt a pain in his chest at the mere thought of the horror Stella’s parents must be going through right now.
Harald randomly poked at the bushes with the stick he carried. Their task was not an easy one. The woods covered a big area, yet how far could the little girl have gone on her own? If she was even in the woods at all. This was only one of the possibilities the police were considering. Her face had appeared on all the news broadcasts, because it was just as likely she could have been coaxed into a car. If so, she’d be miles away by this time. But Harald refused to think about that. Right now his task was to help search the woods, along with all the others whose footsteps and voices he could hear through the branches.
For a moment he paused to breathe in the forest scent. He rarely ventured into the outdoors these days. The last few decades he’d been busy with the bakery and his family, but when he was a young man he’d spent a lot of time outdoors. He promised himself to get back in the habit. Life was short. The past day had been a constant reminder there was no way of knowing what lay around the corner.
Only a few days ago Stella’s parents had no doubt thought they knew what to expect from life. They had lived each day without pausing every other moment to rejoice at what they had. Same as most people. It wasn’t until something happened that people stopped to treasure every second they had with those they loved.
He set off again, walking very slowly, one metre after another. Up ahead he caught a glimpse of water in between the trees. They had received detailed instructions about what to do if they came upon a pond or lake. They were supposed to notify the police, so they could drag the water or send divers in if it was deep. The water he was looking at right now was calm and smooth, except for a few dragonflies landing on the surface, spreading tiny little rings around them. That’s all he saw. The only other thing visible to the naked eye out on the small lake was a tree trunk that had fallen into the water, felled by wind or lightning several years earlier. He went closer and saw that the roots of the trunk were still clinging to the shore. Cautiously he climbed up on the broken tree. He saw nothing but the calm surface of the water. Then he slowly lowered his gaze to look down at his feet. That’s when he noticed the hair. The reddish blond hair floating like seaweed in the murky water.
Sanna was standing in the middle of an aisle in the Konsum supermarket. During the summer she usually kept the garden centre open as long as possible, but today she hadn’t been able to keep her mind on her customers. For once all the questions about how often geraniums needed to be watered seemed too stupid for words.
She gave herself a shake and looked around. Vendela was supposed to come back from staying with her father today, and Sanna wanted to make sure she had plenty of her favourite foods and snacks on hand. One week her daughter was vegan, the next she would eat only hamburgers, and after that she might be on a diet and merely gnaw on a carrot while Sanna babbled on about how young girls needed to eat or risk succumbing to anorexia. Nothing was permanent, nothing was the way it used to be.
She wondered whether Niklas had the same problems with their daughter. Taking turns having Vendela stay with them every other week had worked out well for many years. But now Vendela seemed to have discovered the leverage she wielded. If she didn’t like the food, she would say it was better at her father’s place, and that he let her hang out with Nils in the evenings. Sometimes Sanna felt utterly exhausted, and she wondered why she’d ever thought the early years of Vendela’s life had been demanding; the teenage years seemed to be ten times worse.
It was as if her daughter had turned into a stranger. Vendela always used to be on at her mother the minute she spotted her sneaking a smoke behind the house, and she’d frequently lectured her about the risk of cancer. But lately Sanna had noticed that Vendela’s clothes reeked of cigarette smoke.
Sanna glanced around at the shelves and finally made up her mind. She’d go for something safe. Tacos. And she bought both ground beef and tofu, just in case this turned out to be a vegan week.
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