Slowly We Die. Emelie Schepp

you sure?”

      “You need to eat.”

      “What about you?”

      “I’ll eat after you do.”

      Emma padded out of the bedroom.

      Henrik shifted Vilgot in his arms and rocked him. He felt the baby’s tiny hands and stroked his soft head. Then he let his gaze wander around the room, and his thoughts returned to Danilo Peña.

      A shiver suddenly went down his spine, as if someone were watching him from behind. He turned and looked out the window toward the dark yard. The glow from the closest streetlight stretched over the smooth lawn to the open area in front of their townhouse.

      He couldn’t put a finger on his sudden uneasiness, but something made an icy chill creep up his spine when he thought about Danilo Peña out there somewhere.

      He looked at Vilgot again and saw that the baby was asleep. His heart was pounding as he laid him in the crib. Then he left the bedroom and went downstairs, going first to the entryway and checking that the front door was locked.

      Not just once.

      Twice.

      * * *

      The tomato soup was simmering in the kitchen.

      Jana Berzelius left the pot on the induction cooktop and reduced the temperature. She still wasn’t hungry, but she thought she should probably eat something anyway. She pulled the hollow-edged carving knife out of the knife block, cut a thick slice of leftover sourdough baguette and stuffed a piece of it into her mouth as she flipped through channels on the wall-mounted television in her kitchen to find the news station.

      As she removed the simmering soup from the cooktop to the counter, she heard her cell phone ring from the bedroom. When she went and picked it up, she saw a familiar name.

      Twice earlier that day she had ignored Per. This time, she knew she had to answer. She put the phone to her ear as she walked back to the kitchen.

      “I think you’re avoiding me,” he said loudly to compensate for the noise in the background.

      “What makes you think that?” she asked.

      “Well, first of all, you didn’t let me into your office today. Second, you haven’t answered my voice mail.”

      “I’ve been busy. Something came up that...”

      “I can hardly hear you,” he interrupted.

      “It was nothing,” she said.

      “I waited for you to come back, anyway.”

      Jana sighed, opened a cupboard and stretched on her tiptoes to reach a soup bowl.

      “Why is that?” she asked.

      “I was going to tell you something about a person in whom you might be interested...”

      “A person?”

      “Yes, a person who is now an escapee.”

      “And who is that?” she said.

      “Danilo Peña.”

      The bowl slipped from her hands and broke on the tile floor. She tried to process the significance of Per’s words, but it was hard to compose her thoughts as they raced around in her head. What? How had her nemesis, Danilo, escaped? It couldn’t be true. Per must have said the wrong name, she thought.

      “Could you say that again?” she said in an attempt to stay calm.

      “You remember Danilo Peña, right?” he asked. “The Thai women, narcotics smuggling?”

      “I remember,” she said curtly.

      “He escaped from the hospital today.”

      She leaned forward, supporting herself with her hand on the kitchen counter.

      “And what are the police saying?” she asked.

      “At the moment they have no knowledge of where he could be but believe that he’s still in town. I’d love to tell you more over dinner.”

      “Dinner?” she asked.

      “Yes—I left you a message about dinner. Asking if you’d like to come to my place for filet mignon tonight.”

      “Oh, well...I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

      “But you have to...”

      “...eat, I know.”

      Suddenly, she heard something knocking and stiffened. Slowly, she went out of the kitchen, looked down the dark hallway at the jackets and shoes and then into the bedroom.

      “Hello?” Per said.

      “Yes?” she replied.

      “You don’t even have to walk. I can come and get you, and later I’ll drive you home.”

      “It’s only a mile, Per.”

      “How can you say no to filet mignon?”

      “I don’t know...” she said, walking back to the kitchen. The light from the television colored the tile floor red, blue and white.

      “I have a hard time understanding you sometimes,” he said, and she realized she’d fallen silent again.

      “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said, hanging up.

      She looked at the remains of the broken dish and picked them up, one after another, and tossed them in the garbage.

      Then she stood at the kitchen counter to cut another piece of bread, but the knife wasn’t there.

      She looked around, thinking that maybe she had put the knife back in the block, but the slot was empty.

      She muted the television. She listened carefully to the sounds of the apartment, but she heard only her own breathing.

      Her hand steady, she took a second knife from the block, gripped it securely and moved slowly toward the dark entrance to the living room.

      The adrenaline pulsed through her body and heightened her senses, as she became more and more convinced that she wasn’t alone in the apartment.

      Her eyes scanned around the living room, seeing the contours of furniture, and then the wall. She hesitated for just a moment before reaching out and flipping the light on.

      What she saw made her blood freeze.

      She stood still, unable to move, not fully comprehending what she was looking at.

      The man on the sofa smiled at her.

      “So we meet again,” he said.

      Danilo.

       CHAPTER

       FOUR

      HER BLACK NYLON skirt had inched up too high around her waist. She yanked it down, knowing it was far too short to be appropriate, but at Harry’s, no one cared about appropriateness. They only cared about long, sexy legs.

      Which Mia Bolander had known for a long time that she didn’t have.

      But she had a pretty smile!

      Her teeth were chattering as she crossed the tram tracks. She hadn’t bothered wearing a jacket. The fee for the coat check was too high—three dollars a night would add up to a significant monthly expenditure.

      The chilly evening breeze played with her hair as she turned off Sandgatan. She looked at the construction cranes standing there and thought about how the naked blocks of concrete would soon become incredibly expensive condos. The ground floor was reserved for businesses and was sure to contain a pizzeria.