At some point, I’m going to learn to think before I act or speak. I imagine it will be on my deathbed where I weigh, very carefully, my final words so that I die sounding profound instead of one of those people who say something like, “Can emus fly?” before they enter the great beyond.
Apparently, however, my consideration skills were not in play in the barn that day because as soon as I heard a car approaching, I ran out and started waving my arms as if the people coming to get us wouldn’t know where to come or couldn’t, perhaps, see the giant barn on the barren stretch of field. I was just so excited.
Until I saw the faces in the front seat of the car and realized it was Hans and Greg, who had apparently weaseled his way free even without bail. By that time, they were close enough not only for me to identify them but also to see they were smiling. I had just made a huge mistake.
When I burst back into the barn, Frank was already sitting up. “You went out there.” It wasn’t a question.
“Sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. “What do we do?”
“We get smart.” Frank was up and moving toward the back of the barn.
“Right, the hayloft,” I said as I headed toward the ladder that was resting near where he stood.
He sighed so loudly that I felt it in my chest. “No. If we get up there, we can’t get out.” He pointed toward a small door at the back of the barn. “We run and let them think we hid.”
“Ah,” I said as I followed him to the door just as I heard the car stop in front of the barn. “They’re here.”
I didn’t need to see Frank’s face to know he thought I was the queen of obvious, and it was a good thing because his gigantic back was already disappearing through the door. I followed closely behind and then gently shut the door behind me. We were back in the open, and given that the barn wasn’t that large and had only housed hay, I figured it wasn’t going to take them long to discover we weren’t in there.
Frank gestured to a copse of trees just across a wide field, then started to run. Fast.
I am not a terribly out-of-shape person, and I had even run a marathon as a fundraiser back in the day. But I wasn’t a fast runner, even in a race. My training had consisted of a run for three minutes and walk for two minutes pace. Now, though, I wasn’t going to get that walking break. This was a flat-out sprint.
Fortunately, I had worn shoes with closed backs—my favorite clogs would have been a disaster here—and rubber soles, so I was able to traverse the field pretty quickly. Not as quickly as Frank, who was apparently an Olympic sprinter in his spare time, but still, I gave it my all and ducked into the tree cover in time to turn back and see the back door of the barn open.
“Now what?” I said with a hiss as I ducked behind a tree trunk. “Where do we go?
“Nowhere,” he said and looked off in the direction opposite the barn. “The cavalry is here.”
For a moment, I looked at him and studied his face. “Are the Dutch famous for their horse-riding soldiers?”
He rolled his eyes. “I thought it might help you stay calm if I used American slang.”
“It worked,” I said with a laugh. “I’m now thinking about Dutch cowboys.”
Frank smiled and then led me to the back of the grove. “Do not step out and flag them down.” He chucked me on the shoulder.
I liked this guy, I decided, not just because he had saved me but because, even in this situation, he had a sense of humor. “All right, now, don’t rub it in.”
“Oh, you won’t live this down. Wait until I tell Aaran.”
I groaned and then sighed with delight when I saw Beattie leap out of the back of a police car. Adaire was close behind her. But Frank placed a hand on my arm. “Wait.”
Officer Jonsdottir jumped out of the car and bolted to Beattie and Adaire, pushing them to the ground just before shots rang out across the landscape. A moment later, I heard return fire from off to my right somewhere and caught a glimpse of two figures running in a crouch across the field. “Aaran and Ivan,” I said.
“Yes, now stay down and move,” Frank said, practically dragging me to the car and pushing me into the passenger’s seat as Officer Jonsdottir got Beattie and Adaire into the back and jumped in the driver’s side. “Go!” Frank shouted as he turned back toward the barn and began to run.
The officer didn’t have to be told twice. She spun the car around and gunned it across stubs of wheat, kicking up dust and chaff as we hauled it for a few hundred yards until we came to a roadway.
There, she executed a perfect drift turn and sped up the roadway. Within a few moments, we were back in the city and at the police department where Officer Jonsdottir placed us in an interrogation room, promised us coffee and food, and locked us in.
Only then did I hug Beattie, who grasped me so tight my ribs hurt, before pushing me away from herself and saying, “You’re okay?”
I nodded and looked from her to Adaire. “I am. Frank kept me completely safe.”
Adaire gave me a hug, too. “Feel like talking about it?”
A knock sounded at the door, and a young woman brought in a huge carafe of coffee along with what could only be described as a charcuterie board.
“Let me fortify, and then I need to tell you about a hero sheep,” I said.
An hour later, I’d finished telling my story and had eaten a very good portion of sheep’s milk cheese, another thing for which I was indebted to the sheep of the world. Butterball and I had taken a bit of a nap in one of the very uncomfortable but apparently adequate chairs, and I was beginning to get restless.
I was fidgety, but Adaire was downright frantic with worry for his brother. He paced the small room at least fifty times, and when I tried to get him to sit and let me rub his shoulders, he literally pushed me away, gently but clearly. “I just need to move,” he said.
Beattie took my hand, and we made a small circle with our arms so BB could move, too. Apparently, all the men in the room needed activity. I was completely content to sit for my part. I’d already run and bounced off a sheep for the day. My activity scorecard was full.
After a few moments, the door opened, and Aaran, Ivan, and Frank all came in. Six people in this room would have been tight no matter what, but with these three behemoths in the mix, it felt a bit like a sardine can. It also smelled a bit like a can of sardines, given the amount of sweat we’d all exuded during the day. I was ready to get out of there.
“All okay?” Adaire asked in a far more calm tone than his previous pacing had led me to think him capable of.
“Hans and Greg are in custody, this time without bail,” Aaran said. “Adding the charge of murder for Elena’s death made everything far more serious. We have you to thank for getting that confession on record.”
“Glad to do it,” I said. “I do have one question. After Frank and I got away, how did Hans get to his partner so fast?” It wasn’t an important detail, but it had been bugging me.
Ivan said, “Apparently, they had one of their guys ready to bring Greg to meet Hans. Their rendezvous point just changed when Hans caught you escaping.” He laughed. “I heard there were sheep involved.”
I smirked. “Those sheep were there for a lot of us today.”
That brought a chuckle around the room, and the gift of laughter did its thing, lifting the tension in the room markedly. The six of us made our way out into the main part of the station, and Officer Jonsdottir gave us a quick rundown on the next steps for our two Dutchmen, including extradition and then trial, she expected, in their actual home country of Denmark. Given that the officer she’d spoken to there reported they were under investigation for several crimes, she assured us they would do significant time for their work.
My concern, however, was more about the victims than the criminals. These folks were probably not the most innocent of individuals, given how they were selling their books, but still, they had been conned. “Will the people we bought books from get their books back?” It was the same concern I’d had about the people Swagley had bought from.
“Yes, they have already been contacted, informed that their items were purchased by known criminals, and asked if they would like to have their items returned or donated to the government,” Jonsdottir said. “They have also been told that they need to return the funds they received unless they want to be indicted as part of the criminal proceedings. We expect both sellers here this afternoon.”
“And the books?” I said. I’d left them in the warehouse when Frank and I fled. I wasn’t about to admit it, but in this situation, I was most concerned about the books.
“They’re safe and sound,” Aaran assured me. “We retrieved them along with the rest of the evidence for our case from the warehouse once Frank gave us the coordinates.”
“And the sellers are donating the volumes to the government as part of an agreement that we will not press charges if it comes to light that the books were stolen, which is likely,” Jonsdottir added.
I nodded. “And if the original owners want them back?”
“Then they will receive them back with compliments from the president,” a woman said from behind me.
I turned to see Inga and Gunnar standing there, and out of some sort of instinct, I grabbed Inga and hugged her. She stood stiffly as I did so, but when I pulled back, she was smiling. “I’m really glad to hear that,” I said.
“Are you okay?” Gunnar asked. “We’ve all been quite concerned.”
I nodded. “I am. Tired but okay.” I was suddenly feeling tiredness in my entire body. “I do think I need to sit down, though.”
“If it’s okay, can we all go back to the guesthouse?” Beattie asked. “It’s comfortable, and maybe Poe can get to sleep early.”
Aaran and Jonsdottir exchanged a look, and then the police officer nodded. “I’ll ask a patrolman to watch the house just in case.”
My heart started to pound. “I thought you had arrested them.”
Adaire pulled me into his side as I stood up. “They did, Poe. But it’s organized crime. We still have to be careful.” He stroked my arm as he held me close. “We are safe, though. We’re just being extra cautious.”
He led me toward the door, and Beattie walked alongside me. Behind us, I heard Aaran and the others talking, and given their tones were hushed, I figured it was something they didn’t want us to overhear. I didn’t even try. I was too tired and spent to care.
As we stepped onto the sidewalk, the chilly evening air rejuvenated me a bit, and I felt a bit better. “Can we get some beer to drink when we get back? I want to wind down all the way.”
Beattie nodded. “I think I saw a liquor store just up the street here. Let’s get something.”
Adaire nodded, and as we walked up the street, I was sandwiched between two people who cared about me a great deal. For the first time in days, I felt safe.
That was until I saw Erika Weber approaching us from ahead. I clenched Adaire’s arm and grabbed Beattie’s hand. “Look!” I whispered.
Adaire didn’t even pause. He tugged Beattie and me behind him into the first open door beside us, and we found ourselves in what looked like some sort of ritual supply store for pagans and Wiccans. Candles lined the walls, and I saw the tree of life and pentacles everywhere. At any other moment, I would definitely have wanted to browse, but right now, we had some evading to do.
Fortunately, the owner of the store—a woman with a flowing skirt and curls tied up in a beautiful halo around her face—listened when I said, “We’re being followed. Can you help?” She didn’t hesitate and led us quickly around the counter and into the back room, from where we escaped into the alley through my third back door of the day.
As much as I didn’t want to, I knew our safest bet was to go back the block or two to the police station, so we sprinted, still linked together, up the alley and tumbled into the building’s rear entrance along with a police officer coming in. He looked a bit startled, but he didn’t stop us, even when we bolted past him to find Jonsdottir.
We had just made it to the front of the station when I heard a shout from the street. The officer we’d come in with pushed us to the floor behind a desk, and we hunkered down there while the sounds of fighting took place outside. I had no idea what was going on, but I thought I recognized Aaran’s voice among those shouting.
The officer who’d let us in stood beside us, billy club out as if acting as our private guard. I appreciated the gesture, but the guy looked like Doogie Howser’s skinny cousin. I wasn’t sure what he could do if whatever was happening outside came inside.
I heard someone crash through the front door and ducked lower, hoping that whatever was happening sounded worse than it was. Fortunately for all of us, including the officer who might just have been out of his league, the person who had come in was Frank, and when he saw the young kid ready to fight as he rounded the desk and spotted us, he said, “Good work. Let’s get them to safety.”
I didn’t have to be told twice. If Frank was saying we needed to move, we needed to move. I was even ready for another scooter ride if necessary.
Fortunately, “safety” only involved going further back into the building—this time, into Jonsdottir’s office, which had, I noted, two doors so we wouldn’t be pinned down. I patted myself on the back for having learned something today. I wasn’t, though, quite as quick to give myself credit for needing that tidbit of information several times in a single day. That really felt like the once-in-a-lifetime kind of helpful information.
We settled down onto the floor below the windows of the office and waited. Here, the sounds were more muffled, and I wasn’t sure whether to be grateful to be spared close proximity or frustrated because I couldn’t know what was happening. I decided to just go with vacillating between both feelings.
“What is going on out there?” I asked Frank, who was looming large in the doorway beside us.
Frank looked down at me. “You really want to know?”
I nodded several times, mostly to keep from shaking my head and declining the knowledge. “Yes, please,” I finally said.
“Swagley’s people heard you were here. They were waiting for you to come out.” Frank’s voice was even, but I could see the twitch in his square jaw even from below.
“It was an ambush?” Beattie said. “When is this going to end?”
Frank sighed. “This part will be over soon. Aaran’s got the situation under control now, so it’ll just be a minute.”
I relaxed a little, but then I replayed what Frank had just said. “What do you mean by this part?” I shouted as I looked up at him.
“It’s okay, Poe. You’re safe.” He smiled down at me.
I was beginning to think that people saying I was safe actually meant the opposite, and it wasn’t lost on me that the big man had not answered my question.
“Aaran will tell us what’s going on,” Adaire said confidently.
I saw Frank glance down at my boyfriend when he spoke, and something about that glance made me think Adaire might not have as much reason to be confident as he seemed to think.
Still, for the moment, I did feel safe, and I decided to take advantage of the moment. “I’m so sorry we got separated, Beattie,” I said as I laid my head on my friend’s shoulder. “Were you okay?”
She nodded and put her head on mine. “Aaran got me away from Greg almost immediately, and the rest of their crew was grabbed at the same moment. I wasn’t in any danger, really.” She reached her right arm over and squeezed my hand that gripped her elbow. “I was just worried about you.”
I pulled her arm in close. “I was really okay. Frank saw to that. But let’s not get separated again, okay?”
“Deal,” she said, and we sat in silence with our heads resting together for a few moments while the shouts began to subside, and the sounds of voices turned into the voices of people we knew out in the main part of the station.
“Stay here,” Frank said when the fighting had stopped. Then he turned to the young officer who had stayed vigilantly nearby to assist. “Keep them here until I tell you.”
Little Doogie nodded and took up Frank’s post in the door. I could see almost the entire room around his super-thin frame, but he was loyal and disciplined. That had to count for something.
Eventually, Aaran came into the doorway and relieved the officer before helping Beattie to her feet, where he gave her a long hug. “You okay?” he said quietly with his forehead pressed to hers.
She nodded. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll definitely fill you in, but for now, can we go get a beer?” Aaran said.
I sighed. “Can you go get a beer for all of us? I just want to sit down on something soft.”
“I’ll give you all a lift,” Jonsdottir said from the hallway. “You’ve had enough mishaps today to fill a lifetime.”
I smiled gratefully at her and leaned into Adaire as I heaved myself up from the floor; the weariness of earlier exponentially increased. “Thank you. I don’t think I can walk any farther today.”
While we made our way to the car with Frank as our escort, Adaire called ahead and asked if, by chance, we could move a couple of extra chairs and a television into our room. He didn’t give all the details to our host, but apparently, the man already knew something because he agreed readily. I figured my friends had given him a bit of information—maybe even the police had—when Beattie and I had been kidnapped. Perhaps for his protection, perhaps to suss out if he was involved.
Given that he wasn’t under arrest and we were going back to stay at his home, I gathered he had been cleared, and I was grateful to hear that I could lie down and still have company when we got there. It was going to be cozy in our small room, but I didn’t mind cozy after that huge warehouse and the days I’d just had, as long as at least a few of us could shower.
When we got to the guesthouse, our host was outside with a warm neck pillow ready for me. He slipped it around my neck and then draped the softest shawl around my shoulders before following us up to our room with a carafe of coffee, some of the most American cupcakes I’d ever seen (red, white, and blue forever), and a glass bottle of clear liquid.
He set everything down on a small table in the corner of the room and then pointed to the bottle. “I believe you have something like this in the States. Perhaps you call it moonglow.”
Beattie smiled. “Moonshine. Is that Icelandic moonshine?”
Our host nodded. “Brennivin.”
Just the thought of the pleasant burn of hard liquor relaxed me a bit. “How do you usually drink it?” I asked, trying to be culturally sensitive and kind despite my growing fatigue.
“I like it cold,” he said and held up a shot glass. He poured himself a drink and tossed it back. “You try?”
I nodded. “Is it sweet?”
He shook his head as he handed me a glass.
A quick sniff made me think of the rye bread I’d grown to love so well here, and when I tipped the glass to my mouth, that was what I tasted, too, at least until the alcohol content hit me. I sputtered a bit but got the whole glass down before sitting back against the headboard and letting the warmth sink deep into me.
Within a few minutes, I felt much more relaxed. When Aaran came in with the beer and Adaire poured me another shot of Brennivin, I finally felt my nervous system settle down all the way. Of course, by then, I was also about a half-second away from sleep.
But I really wanted to hear what had happened on the street earlier, so I forced myself to sit up straighter and stay awake while Officer Jonsdottir and Frank said their goodbyes and headed out. Frank was staying nearby just in case, and he assured us Ivan was nearby, too. “You’re safe, Poe,” he said again. Finally, I believed him.
After everyone else had left, Aaran drained his beer and began to explain what had happened. Apparently, as Aaran had said, Weber and some of Swagley’s other people had been waiting for us outside the station. They had hoped to kidnap us, much as Hans and Greg had done, and extract information about their competitors from us.
“So basically,” Beattie said, “you’re saying we could have become pinballs for the various organized crime outfits working here in Reykjavik?”
Aaran nodded. “Kind of. This is why I really didn’t want you all to get involved. Inga and Gunnar didn’t really have any right to ask this of you, especially given their lack of knowledge about the situation.”
I groaned. “Why didn’t you say something?” I was a little drunk and a whole lot exhausted, and apparently, I was also kind of peeved.
“I wanted to. I really did. But I knew if I spoke up, they’d make me leave, and they might have recruited you anyway. I thought at least if I stayed close by, I could probably protect you.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Some job of that I did.”
“Are you kidding?” Beattie said, pulling his hand into hers. “You did a great job. These people were just really determined.” She looked at him carefully. “Were you all aware of Hans and Greg?”
Aaran sighed. “Yes, but not by name or face. We knew a Dutch-based organization had moved into the area, and we knew there was a rivalry with Swagley’s organization, but I had no idea Hans was anyone other than someone taking a horseback ride.”
“Apparently, he sort of was,” I said and explained how he’d said that was all he and Greg had been doing there. “Weber’s presence is what made him suspicious.”
“So if we hadn’t taken that horse tour—” Adaire started.
“Nope. We’re not going there. This was the work of ill-intended, self-interested people. We didn’t do anything wrong.” I was surprised at the strength of my voice. “We are going to hold them responsible in our hearts, and we’re going to let their governments hold them responsible in court.” I smiled as I realized I was channeling my inner Perry Mason. My mom would have been proud.
Beattie raised her shot glass—her fourth if I was counting correctly—and said, “Cheers to that.”
“That’s not exactly how you use cheers, but tonight, I’m willing to give you a pass,” Aaran said with a wink.
“What else are you willing to give me?” Beattie said with a coy smile.
“Nothing here,” I said forcefully. “You two, get a room.” I giggled. “I mean, go to your room.” I got laughing again. “Just leave.”
Aaran and Beattie smiled and stood, quite happy to obey my orders. Adaire sat down on Beattie’s bed and said, “Do you mind if I stay?” He blushed. “Just to sleep, I mean. Nothing else.”
I patted the side of my bed. “Only if you sleep next to me,” I said.
He stripped down and climbed in, and I felt him kiss my cheek as I drifted off to blissful sleep.