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“Are you ready?” Violet asked Kristen.
Kristen squeezed her hand and nodded. “I think so.”
“You don’t think this is a bit weird?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe, but it feels like closure.”
She was about to meet Mr and Mrs Lindgren at the spot where the real Haiden’s body had been discovered. One of the hardest parts of her recovery over the past couple of months had been mentally trying not to think of Haiden as Haiden. The man who she’d killed at the cottage had been called Filip, and yet she couldn’t shake the idea that it wasn’t Filip who had been killed, but the Haiden he’d been impersonating. She struggled with nightmares in which the Haiden she’d known was still alive and was coming back for her. Even though she’d seen his body, the idea that there had been two of them made it impossible for her to move on.
Haiden Lindgren’s parents had struggled, too, understandably. They’d believed their son to be alive for a month after he’d been so brutally murdered and left in a shallow grave. They wanted to meet the woman who’d lived with the man who’d killed their son and offered to cover the costs to bring both Kristen and Violet out to Sweden for the weekend.
“I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” Violet admitted.
“I have to do it. It’s the only thing I can think to do that will help me move on.”
Violet squeezed her hand in return. “I hope it does, Kristen. You deserve some peace.”
“Thanks, Sis.”
One good thing that had come out of all of this was that her relationship with Violet had been greatly improved. Violet admitted how frightened she’d been, thinking she was going to lose her, and she realised how important her sister and nephew were, and that she’d make more of an effort. She even moved in with Kristen, paying the rent so Kristen wasn’t short on the income. Violet knew that while Kristen needed the money, she also didn’t want to be the only adult alone in the house right now, and she wasn’t about to bring another stranger into her home any time soon.
Kristen had left Ollie with Stephen and Lisa for the weekend while she and Violet flew out to Sweden. She wouldn’t have wanted Ollie to be in this situation. It had all been confusing enough for the poor kid. Stephen was home and doing better. He still had a noticeable slur, but physically he was almost back to his old self. During his recovery, Kristen had got much friendlier with Lisa, and had even confessed to her fear that Stephen had wanted to take Ollie from her before the accident.
Lisa had reacted with horror. “No offence to Ollie, Kristen, because he’s as sweet as a five-year-old boy can be, but the idea of having three kids under the age of six at home full time would be way too much for me to handle.”
Kristen had managed a laugh at that. Lisa was a good woman—better than Stephen deserved, not that he’d ever realise that.
An enquiry into exactly what had happened to allow Filip Nilsson to pose as Haiden Lindgren for so long had been conducted. It involved a proper investigation into who was responsible for the window breaking and tyre slashing that had occurred while Filip had been a resident at Kristen’s house. It turned out one of their neighbours had security cameras which caught the outside of Kristen’s house, and had therefore captured the person who’d been destroying her property.
Rachelle Hurst had eventually admitted that she’d been the one trying to scare Kristen, hoping she could frighten her into leaving the area. She was only charged with a misdemeanour and ordered to pay damages, but she was also struck off the parent teachers association, and there wouldn’t be much chance of seeing her up at the school again—something Kristen was particularly relieved about now that she was back at work. Felix himself was doing better. Young bodies healed well, it turned out, and he’d made surprising advances in regaining feeling in his legs. Of course, they wouldn’t be staying local now. Even with Felix on the mend, everyone knew what Rachelle had done, revealing herself for the absolute bitch she really was, and they’d be moving out of the area.
The owner of the cottage where it had all come to a head also spoke to the police. It seemed Haiden, or Filip, as he now needed to be known, had overheard a conversation the owner had had with an actual friend, offering up the place, and had decided to take it on himself to plan the weekend there. The owner had since had the locks changed and promised to increase the security at the cottage. She imagined he’d probably be doing some redecorating, too. It was hard enough being at her house, knowing that Filip had touched everything, without having to imagine his dead body and the blood splatter every time she went into the kitchen.
Kristen pulled her thoughts from the investigation and focused on the place the events of the past few months had brought her.
The spot marking the real Haiden Lindberg’s original shallow grave—the place where his body had lain for almost a month—was marked by a small cross and some flowers. They’d walked through the forest of spruce and pine trees, about half a mile from the road, before they’d found it. Of course, Haiden Lindgren’s body was no longer here. It had been taken for forensics back when it had first been discovered.
Violet nudged her in the side. “They’re here.”
The shape of two figures made their way through the trees.
Kristen sucked in a lungful of air, steadying her nerves. How would they feel about her? Did they think she was a terrible person for having a relationship with the man she’d believed to have been their son? Filip had killed Haiden before she’d even known he existed, so she couldn’t be held responsible for that part, but perhaps they felt she should have picked up there being something wrong sooner? Nothing she could have done would have saved the real Haiden, though.
She looked up as the couple in their sixties approached, the woman with her arm hooked through the man’s.
The couple noticed the two other women standing there, and both gave a tight smile and a nod. Kristen couldn’t imagine how they were feeling. She’d come here for herself, but she suddenly put herself in their position. How would she cope if this was Ollie’s grave she was standing by now? It didn’t matter how old your children got; they were always your children.
The new arrivals stopped on the other side of the shallow grave. “Kristen?” the man said, looking between them.
Kristen nodded and leaned forward to shake his hand. “Mr Lindgren. I’m sorry we’re meeting in these circumstances.”
“It’s Hugo, please. This is my wife, Brigetta.”
Both of the real Haiden’s parents were blond with blue eyes. Yes, Filip could have easily passed as their son. And, like Filip, their English was perfect and barely held an accent.
“This is my sister Violet. I’m so sorry for what happened to your son.” She found herself blinking back tears. How would things have been if it had been the real Haiden who’d come to live with her? Of course, she didn’t expect for things to have been anything like they’d been with Filip, but maybe they’d have been friends.
“Thank you,” Brigetta said. “And thank you for avenging the death of our boy.”
It felt strange how she felt like she knew their son, even though she’d never met him. It hadn’t been their Haiden she’d known.
“We couldn’t believe it when we found out that bastard had been pretending to be our son all that time,” Hugo continued. “Walking around, using his name. It’s like he was dancing on Haiden’s grave.”
Like a ghost or a shapeshifter, morphing into someone he wasn’t.
And then dancing on his grave.
A shiver ran across her shoulders, and she shuddered.
“I wish I’d got to meet your Haiden,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise something was wrong sooner.”
“It’s not your fault. Filip Nilsson was an accomplished liar and manipulator. You weren’t the first woman to be taken in by him.”
The previous deaths the inspector had referred to had all been women. It seemed he made a habit of making women believe he was something he was not, and then killing them when the women found out. The police had been on his tail, and he’d realised he had to get out of the country.
Just like her, Haiden Lindgren had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Filip had seen how much alike they’d looked, and then discovered his plans to go to the UK to study. He’d killed Haiden and stolen his ID shortly before the coach had left, and simply picked up Haiden’s bag, including his mobile phone, and boarded the coach as Haiden Lindgren. He’d been lucky that no one on the coach had met him before or that his parents hadn’t seen him off at the station.
“I wish we’d driven him to the coach,” Hugo admitted. “But he was twenty-three years old and always was independent. If we’d driven him there, he’d still be alive today, and you wouldn’t have gone through everything you did.”
So, they didn’t hate her, or blame her for what had happened. They were blaming themselves as much as she’d been blaming herself.
“It’s not your fault,” she said, laying her hand on Hugo’s arm.
Violet shook her head. “Only Filip Nilsson is to blame.”
Yes, Filip Nilsson. Not Haiden Lindgren. Haiden Lindgren was dead, and these were his grieving parents. She’d never known Haiden. The only man she’d ever known was Filip, and she doubted she’d ever really known the real him. He probably hadn’t even known who he was himself, by the end.
Maybe she could finally make peace with that.
Kristen hugged Haiden’s parents goodbye, and they thanked her again, though she could never truly accept gratitude for killing a man.
Then she took her sister’s hand and walked away from the grave, finally leaving Haiden Lindgren and Filip Nilsson behind her.
***
KEEP READING FOR THE first chapter in M K Farrar and M A Comley’s psychological thriller series, ‘Crime after Crime’, ‘Watching Over Me’ which is now available from Amazon in ebook, paperback, and audiobook!
SOMETIMES SECRETS ARE better left buried...
Amy Penrose knows how it feels to grow up in a home where your parents harm you more than raise you.
Now an adult, she’s newly qualified as a child psychologist and hopes to help children who’ve gone through struggles of their own.
When a father brings a twelve-year-old boy into her office, she recognises the bruises and the way the boy withdraws into himself. And she wants to help.
But life is never that simple. With a boyfriend at home who believes her career shouldn’t be more important than getting married and having children, and with a boss who seems to want her to stay late all the time, but not for work reasons, and with other patients who need her, Amy is torn.
As she delves into the family’s past, and starts to feel unsafe in her own home, she starts to wonder if this is one child beyond her help.
Get book one is this heart-racing psychological thriller series from NY Times and USA Today bestselling author M A Comley, and M K Farrar.
Watching Over Me
Crime after Crime
Book One