Dandelion Girl

by Isa Hansen

  “I actually found something out,” she said. “Something that happened a long time ago that needs to be reported. It’s pretty serious.”

  She observed his expression when she said it: “Had something to do with this group: Vi fem.”

  Hans stared at her, the air between them radiated thick and charged. Before he had time to respond, she scampered past him to join her classmates. They had been unaware of the conversation and the class chatter carried on as usual.

  Celia found a seat. She kept an eye on the hall. Hans was still out there.

  She realized that her hands were trembling. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She shouldn’t have done that. But it was too late now.

  She craned her neck, she couldn’t see Hans anywhere.

  It wasn’t until five minutes later that he entered the classroom.

  He was out of sorts all throughout the lecture.

  Meanwhile she tried to stay poised, act normal and at least pretend to focus on her studies. When the lecture part of the class drew to an end, she packed up her things and headed out of the classroom.

  She didn’t look at Hans when she walked past his desk, but she knew his eyes were on her. She hurried to drop her things at her locker and get out of school.

  ***

  Some time later she was waiting in the lobby of the police station.

  A clock ticked loudly from one of the offices alongside the hall that spanned out from the lobby. The station looked newly renovated with bright colors and recessed lighting.

  Celia opened up a women’s magazine from the stack next to her. She idly flicked through the gossip-filled pages.

  When she first arrived at the station she made an initial report at the front desk, after which she’d been told by a receptionist to wait. Finally a police woman finally stepped over to her.

  “Celia Lindberg?”

  She looked up from her magazine.

  The police officer gave brisk directions and pointed to one of the rooms up ahead.

  Celia set the magazine aside and made her way toward the row of offices. She stepped into the doorway of a small room where a man sat behind a paper-strewn desk, hunched over an iPad. She lingered by the door, hesitating. The man looked up and nodded toward the empty chair on the other side of the desk. Sitting up straight now, he was a broad, large-shouldered man. He looked familiar to Celia, though she couldn’t recall where she’d seen him before.

  “Hello Celia,” he said in English with a British accent. “Please sit.”

  She was startled to hear him speaking English. She had introduced herself in Swedish when she arrived at the station.

  Celia pulled out the chair and sat down warily. The man watched her with calm, piercing eyes. He had a shadow of a beard, thick and pronounced slanting brows, and dark hair that was gelled back.

  “I thought we should be introduced,” the man said. “I’m Petter Blom.”

  ***

  Petter Blom.

  It only took Celia a moment to place the name and then the face.

  Petter from Vi fem.

  As recognition must have spread over her features, Petter spoke:

  “You know who I am.”

  “Yes.”

  He pushed the iPad aside and folded his hands, index fingers touching in a pointed steeple. “You’ve been poking around in places where you have no business.” His voice was steady and smooth.

  “You’re not a police officer,” she said, trying to focus her thoughts. “Why aren’t you in England?”

  He sighed, as though her presence was a nuisance. “Look, Celia. Let’s not beat about the bush. I’m aware of your … let’s just call it investigation—you’re trying to find out what happened to Liv.” Petter paused and observed Celia. “Let me give you a piece of advice, free of charge: there’s nothing there. It’s time for you to stop your search.”

  Celia’s thoughts whirled.

  Hans must have tipped Petter off that she was going to the police. That was the only way their meeting could have been set up like this. She stammered, “How did you know I was coming here?”

  “I have little birds who speak to me,” Petter said. “Never mind that, you want to know what Vi fem was? It was nothing. Silly kids doing silly things. That’s all. So just leave it, OK?”

  “Why are you so worried? Did you do something to Liv?” The words escaped before she could stop herself. She fidgeted with regret. Clearly she was caught in a downward spiral of stupid.

  Petter cocked his head to the side, ever so slightly. “I’m not going to repeat this, so listen closely,” he enunciated. “There is nothing in Liv’s past that concerns you. Whatsoever.” He tilted his chin down, his stare hard under the slanted brows. “Do you understand?”

  Celia felt herself nod.

  “Good. Now why are you here?”

  She frowned. “What?”

  “Why are you at the police station?” Petter tapped his fingers against the desk. “What are you here to report? Because somehow I don’t believe you’re here to report some long ago crime that only exists in your own head…”

  “Oh.” Celia swayed in her chair. “No. Someone tried to steal my bag last night. Attempted mugging.”

  Petter considered that for a moment. “All right.”

  He rose from the desk, circled around to Celia and planted a hand on her shoulder. She could smell his aftershave. He spoke in a low voice: “I’m working on a new venture in Gothenburg—close enough to pop round if necessary.” Then he added, “You know, the thing about this place … it tends to swallow troublemakers.”

  Celia shifted her body away from him. He kept his hand on her but didn’t apply any pressure to the touch.

  “Karlsson’s on desk duty,” Petter said. “He’ll be in to take your statement.”

  With those words he patted Celia’s shoulder and left.

  She twisted around in her seat but he was already gone.

  A minute later a police officer entered the room. He looked to be close to retirement age—was skinny and blond with a receding hairline and dressed in the traditional Swedish police colors of blue and black.

  Celia assumed that this time she was dealing with a real police worker.

  Maybe he was Petter’s pal Karlsson, Celia didn’t know; the officer didn’t bother to introduce himself. Instead he went straight to asking a string of questions, typing notes into the computer at his side. If he thought it strange that a tech CEO interfered at his workplace, he wasn’t showing it. In a neutral voice he asked what time she was approached and attacked. Where and how did it happen? Did the attacker say anything? Could she remember anything about him or her—any details? Did she recall anything that could point to the person’s identity?

  Celia answered the questions to the best of her recollection, but her mind was reeling from her conversation with Petter.

  He obviously pulled some serious weight with the local police authority. Who knew where else he held influence. Though the question was: why did he care so much?

  Celia finished giving her statement to the officer, packed up her things and left the station.

  Back out on the street, Celia tried to figure out what to do next.

  That’s when she saw it. The strangely familiar car. It was parked across the street, half a block from the police station.

  The car took off almost immediately. She caught a glimpse of the driver as the vehicle sped away. Her focus darted from the driver to the license plate, catching only fragments of each.

  PUL was all that she noted from the license plate.

  The driver was wearing a wooly hat and scarf that concealed the hair and neck, but the shoulders had a man’s build. Or it could have been a broad-ish woman. Celia’s mind went to Katja. She had a build that could fit.

  So what was this? A class reunion? Everyone from Vi fem hanging around for a social gathering? Celia didn’t understand all the forces at work around her, but one thing was becoming increasingly clear. She had embarked upon something that p
eople in Björkby wanted left alone.

  CHAPTER 22

  On the weekend that followed, Ebba, Oskar, Zari, and Celia got together to wrap up their work on the house for the season. It had been a temperate autumn so far, and by dressing warm, they’d been able to continue their work despite the lack of a functioning furnace in the house. But now the group decided that with limited light and a forecast of colder weather ahead, it was time to pack up shop.

  They continued their work in the living room as a final project for the year, leaving the more involved kitchen and bathroom renovations for springtime. Over the winter they’d figure out what to do about fixing an outdated plumbing system and installing a furnace. That’s where things would start to cost a lot of money. Potentially they’d leave the cottage as a summer house for the time being.

  After packing up their tools, the four of them sat down by the small square kitchen table. Celia got up to pour water in the kettle that had been left in the cupboard from her grandfather. Tea, biscuits, and an overripe orange was all she had to serve.

  “I wonder…” Zari said to Celia, her eyes becoming serious. “Do you think the person who went after you in the park could have been Petter?”

  Celia shook her head with certainty. “No, the body type doesn’t fit. That person was tall and thin. Petter is way too large and broad.”

  “Tall and thin.” Zari frowned. “That just leaves half of Sweden’s population.”

  “Honestly, though—” Celia flicked on the stovetop heat, “I’m not sure that person wasn’t just a rando. Just some mugger, you know?”

  “So let’s assume the mugger was a rando.” Ebba leaned one-elbowed over the back of her chair. “The fact remains that you’re getting some strong reactions from the Vi fem group. That tells us we’re on the right track.”

  “Yeah,” Celia said. “There has to be something pretty big hidden there for Petter to make an appearance like that. It was so obviously a power play.”

  “Maybe it all comes back to the fire,” Oskar said. “Liv knew they started the fire, or maybe she was in on it but wanted to confess. So they went after her.”

  Celia leaned against the stove. According to the article she found in Liv’s book, and according to subsequent research that she’d conducted, no one died in the fire, no one was hurt. “I’m not saying a fire wouldn’t be a serious offense, but if Liv did want to come clean, would that be enough for the group to go after her—to actually kill her?” She turned up the heat under the kettle to speed up the boiling time. “I have no idea what the legalities would be in the States if underage kids were caught burning down a public building. Do you know what would happen here in Sweden?”

  “I don’t know what would have happened back then,” Ebba said, “but these last years there’s been an ongoing trend with teenagers burning down schools. When the kids are caught, their parents are slapped with fines of 25 to 100 million kronor.”

  Celia did the math in her head. 100 million kronas would be about 15 million US dollars. She raised her brows. “Dayum.”

  Ebba gave a little shrug. “It’s not real. It’s not like they’re ever going to collect that money.”

  “But still, imagine the social consequences of that,” Oskar inferred. He picked up the orange from the table and twirled it around. “Imagine putting your family into such grave debt. And think what everyone around you would say: your friends, relatives, employers, people you were dating, or trying to date, anyone. Being charged with something so serious would stay with you for a very long time.” He let the orange roll to the middle of the table.

  Celia returned to her seat. “Although I wonder how concerned you’d be with that sort of thing if you were the type of person who’d start a fire in the first place.”

  “People do dumb things,” Ebba said. “This could be a case of doing dumb shit and regretting it later.” She pushed the orange in Zari’s direction.

  Zari’s hand clamped down on it before it could roll off the table. “But would you kill a girl over it?”

  The question hung in the air.

  “Let’s say they did,” Celia said, working out a scenario. She pushed her emotions over Liv to the side, letting her cogent side take over. “Would they have forced Liv to put on a bathing suit and then dragged her to the lake, making it look like an accident?” She immediately shot down that idea. “No, that doesn’t sound right.”

  Ebba shook her head. “More likely, they knew she was going swimming and followed her. Took the opportunity while they had it.”

  “It still doesn’t pan out.” Celia shifted her weight, resting her chin against the palm of her hand. “Katja said she felt Liv was scared of someone, and Hans said he doubted Liv’s death was an accident. If Vi fem truly was responsible for her death, why would they have talked like that?”

  Zari said, “Exactly. Why point to their own crime?”

  “Unless it was Petter who did the killing and the others weren’t involved,” Ebba suggested.

  The teapot on the stove made a whistling sound.

  Celia rose to turn off the heat and used a towel to handle the teapot. “Petter does seems pretty crazy. Like he might be violent.” She recalled her visit with Viveca Sörensson. Liv’s mother had been alarmed by Petter’s demeanor, even back when he was young.

  She poured water into their cups. The heat steamed up in smoky white twirls. She continued to think out loud: “Maybe the fire in itself wouldn’t have been enough to warrant them going after Liv, but I swear, there’s something twisted about that group … based on what I know of them, it seems like Petter and Katja were the alphas. I feel like we should focus on them.”

  “Although sometimes it’s the quiet ones you need to be more careful of,” Ebba countered. “They’re sometimes the ones to snap. I wouldn’t discount Hans for a second.”

  “I wouldn’t either,” Oskar said. “Added to that, he and Liv were a couple. That adds another dimension.”

  Celia sat down with her tea, fixing her stare out the window. The sky had turned a deep shade of blue—almost as blue as the lake. It was that afternoon glow of the cold season that was so beautiful and haunting. “Liv was vulnerable,” she said. “Any one of her friends, including her boyfriend, could have taken advantage of that.”

  She went silent, thinking about the way Hans would look at her. It was pretty unsettling. On top of that, he now also seemed comfortable poking into her private life. That wasn’t good.

  She had a feeling that when Hans looked at her, he wasn’t seeing her, Celia, at all.

  No, he was seeing Liv.

  She wrapped her hands around her warm mug, losing herself in her thoughts.

  When she came out of her mental blur, she noticed Oskar. He was sitting with his back to the window—behind him the sky and reflections against the lake were turning ever deeper and darker blue. His eyes were set on her.

  Blue on blue.

  She met his gaze, her heart skipping a beat.

  She’d caught him looking at her like that before, but usually after their eyes met, he’d bashfully glance away.

  This time he didn’t look away. She didn’t either.

  ***

  Getting ready for bed that night, she was taken over by worry. Had she made a mistake when she implied to Hans that Oskar was her boyfriend? Was Hans more dangerous than she initially thought? She finished undressing and reached for her phone. She tucked herself into bed and texted Oskar.

  Hey, I did something a few days ago…. I was talking to Hans who apparently thinks you and I are a couple. Well, I was annoyed with him for being obnoxious, so I kind of went along with it and now he thinks you’re my boyfriend. That might not be good. :(

  Restlessly, she waited for Oskar’s response. Would he be mad that she referred to him as a boyfriend? Would it be awkward? Her heart was beating in a strange pattern. Couldn’t he just answer already?

  Her phone beeped.

  Text back from Oskar.

  I don’t mind if he th
inks we are together…

  Celia typed a response.

  I don’t mind either. But I get this really off vibe from Hans. Like he thinks I’m Liv. Like he can’t separate me from her. And if he’s possessive and potentially dangerous….he might get jealous and try to do something to you.

  Oskar responded: If he is crazy and dangerous I would be worried about you, not me.

  She wrote back: Please be careful tho. Promise?

  He wrote: I will. You be careful too.

  She sat for several moments with her phone, rereading the texts. Her heart was beating faster with their back and forth messages, just like it did when their eyes met earlier that day.

  Dammit. She needed to stop this.

  She couldn’t go there.

  Life was way too complicated as it was already.

  Because while everything crazy was going on, an insight had been dawning on her. She’d realized something about herself. Something she didn’t have the nerve to tell Oskar.

  She needed to keep a safe distance between them. No matter how much her heart tugged.

  She sent a final message.

  I will. Good night, Oskar.

  His response came a second later.

  Godnatt Celia.

  CHAPTER 23

  Celia dreaded her class with Hans on Monday morning. She thought about skipping it, but she couldn’t avoid him for the rest of the school year. Also, she was undeniably a little curious about how he’d respond to her. Would he act weird, mention Petter, pretend like nothing had happened?

  All throughout class, it seemed that the latter was his choice of action. Hans gave away nothing, he behaved like a completely normal teacher. He barely even looked at her. But when the class period was over and she was on her way out, he said: “Celia, stay behind please.”

  She tensed and slowed to a halt.

  Alex who was walking next to her caught her eye and gave her a questioning look. By the time the rest of the class had left the room, Alex was still there, in the doorway.