I entered the public library, found a computer, and sat down, making sure no one spotted me. I opened Facebook and found the page that had the articles about Morten and me, then I opened Morten’s Hotmail account that I knew the password for. I scrolled down and found the email allegedly sent from me.

  “Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble here,” I mumbled. “Creating a false account in my name and everything.”

  I looked around to make sure no one was watching me, then started a trace to find which IP address the email had been sent from. While waiting for the result, I tapped my fingers and looked around nervously again. The librarian, Mrs. Houman, was deeply buried in the newspaper behind the counter. She paid no attention to me. Still, I constantly felt like I was being watched. But I had felt that a lot lately.

  The result came up and, to my surprise, the IP address was the library, the same address that I was stationed at. In other words, whoever was behind this had used the computers at the library to send the email to Morten. He wasn’t sitting behind a computer somewhere far away ruining my life. He was here on the island somewhere.

  33

  November 2014

  Lisa Rasmussen felt annoyed as she parked the car in front of SuperBrugsen, the city’s only supermarket. She had spent the afternoon in meetings and just got the call that one of the local police officers had turned out to be a pervert and had been suspended for being in possession of some outrageous porn. To top it off, he was Emma Frost’s boyfriend, so the story was all over the online newspapers already.

  Lisa sighed aggressively and looked out through the windshield. It was raining heavily now. It was dark already. On the streetlamp, her poster was getting soaked. Someone had painted a mustache on her upper lip. Lisa felt tired. Tired of this island and its people. She couldn’t believe them. Didn’t anyone have any respect anymore? Especially, Emma Frost annoyed her immensely. She was bad news for the island. All those stories going on right now attracted the wrong kind of attention to the island. And Lisa was trying to get the tourism back. It was her cause, the one that was going to get the islanders to love her.

  Luckily, there still hadn’t been another candidate announced, and she doubted that there was going to be, since there were less than two weeks till the election.

  “You will be mayor, Lisa, no doubt about it. There’s nothing that can stop you now. Don’t worry. Just breathe,” she told her own reflection in the rearview mirror. “They will come to love you. They will learn to. Or you’ll make them.”

  Lisa closed her eyes and calmed down. All this bad publicity was getting to her. How was she supposed to fix things? How was she supposed to get people to return here? This island lived off the tourists. And it was like it kept getting worse and worse. One bad thing after the other. The news of the old man Larsen, who was killed in his home, had spread as well. So had the story of the mayor getting killed in the fire, even though they had told the newspapers it was an accident. Lisa had held a meeting with her people and asked them to figure out what to do about the island’s bad reputation. If she was going to get people to elect her and love her as a mayor for bringing back the tourists and the good reputation of the island, she needed to do something extraordinary. They had to figure out what that could be. But their suggestions hadn’t been useful so far.

  Amateurs. Always surrounded by freaking amateurs.

  Lisa took in a deep breath to calm herself down. She puffed her hair with her hands to make it look good, then put on her election smile before she exited the car. She grabbed a cart and walked through the sliding doors, smiling at everyone and nodding, even if they didn’t look at her.

  “Hello. Don’t forget to vote,” she said to as many people as possible. It was her campaign manager who had told her it was important that she was seen in public doing ordinary chores, but always with a smile and showing her best side. It was all about appearing ordinary, showing she was one of them. According to a questionnaire, that was the only problem the islanders had with her. That she wasn’t local; she wasn’t one of their own. They didn’t like that. So now, Lisa had to show them that she was just like them. Lisa grabbed some cereal, put it in the cart, and continued down the aisle. She nodded and smiled at a couple she passed while grabbing a head of lettuce to go with the lasagna she was preparing for tonight. She hurried past the meat, since she wouldn’t be needing any of that for quite awhile. She had the entire freezer full. When she stopped at the fruit section, a cart was blocking her way. A woman was bent over the apples. Lisa needed oranges and had to pass the woman to get to them, but couldn’t.

  She clenched her fist, but kept smiling. There was nothing more annoying than when people blocked the way with their cart and then took forever to move it. Lisa cleared her throat to let the woman know she was waiting for her. The woman didn’t react. Lisa looked at her while her nostrils flared, but kept smiling. She cleared her throat again, this time a little louder. The woman still didn’t react. She was touching all the apples, feeling them one after another in her hands to see if they were ripe. She even smelled some of them and had her disgusting nose touch them before she put them back. That annoyed Lisa even more. She had to address it.

  “You’re not supposed to touch all of them,” she said.

  The black-haired woman turned her head and looked at her. She was Asian. Lisa bit her lip. She had never liked Asian people much. Never trusted them. Something about their eyes just wasn’t right. They had all kinds of diseases out there in the East, didn’t they? Lisa had always been terrified of getting SARS or MERS, or whatever those diseases were called. Especially, bird flu scared the crap out of her. What those Asians did to those birds to get the disease, she never wanted to know.

  “Excuse me?” the Asian woman asked.

  Lisa wrinkled her nose. “You’re touching all of them,” she said. “It’s gross. Don’t touch those, and certainly don’t put your nose on them if you’re not buying them. Think about others. Besides, your cart is blocking the way so no one can pass you.”

  To Lisa’s surprise, the Asian woman burst out into loud laughter. It was very odd, Lisa thought. Everything about this woman came off as very odd. The woman was still chuckling as she grabbed another apple and put it in her small plastic bag. “I just need one more,” she said. “Then I have five. Five is my lucky number, you see.”

  Lisa sighed and looked at her watch. It was getting late. She had a dinner to cook. “Please, just move your cart a little,” she said. “I’m in a hurry.”

  The Asian woman smiled from ear to ear. “I can tell,” she said. “Your entire aura is completely messed up. You really should calm down a little.”

  Lisa snorted. “I don’t have the time to calm down a little. I’m very busy, as you can see. Now, please, just move your cart.”

  “I could clean it for you, you know?” the woman said. “I could clean your aura. I’m guessing your life path number is all wrong for you. I could help you find a new name and completely change your life. You’ll be surprised when you realize how much it means.”

  Lisa’s eyes glowed in anger. What the heck was this? Who was this insane woman? Never had she heard anything this ridiculous.

  “Listen. I have a family to get home to, that doesn’t see me much, and I have a very important election coming up. I really just want to get to the oranges over there, so I can be done and go home. Do you have any idea who I am?”

  “No.”

  Lisa stared paralyzed at the woman in front of her. She still hadn’t moved her cart. She picked up her purse and Lisa noticed that there was something inside of it. A small face peered out. Lisa gasped and pointed.

  “A…a rat!”

  The Asian woman kissed the disgusting rat on the mouth. It returned the kiss by licking her nose before she put it back in her purse with a smile. Lisa could have thrown up right on the spot. She could hardly speak; the anger was boiling in her throat.

  “You…you…brought a RAT to the supermarket? You have it near the food? You kiss it on the mouth and let it lick your nose? The same filthy nose that you use for sniffing the fruit?”

  The Asian woman shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

  Lisa had no more words. She was so shocked she couldn’t stand being in the supermarket anymore. She grabbed the handle of her cart, then smashed it into the woman’s cart several times until the cart moved sideways enough for her to get through. With a loud whimper of distress and anger, Lisa stormed past her towards the cashier, while thinking to herself:

  No wonder they get all these diseases out there! Well, I’m not having it here. Not on our peaceful island. I’m not. I’m simply not tolerating it!

  As she threw her groceries on the counter for the cashier to ring them up, she stared at the moving objects, still in shock, while mumbling, “I’m such a fool. We just had lasagna last week. I’ll serve sausages instead.”

  34

  November 2014

  When I came home from the library, Morten was sitting in the kitchen. He looked upset.

  “Where have you been?” he asked.

  “I told you I went out for a little bit.”

  “You’ve been gone for two hours,” he snarled.

  “Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had to hurry back,” I said, and put my jacket on a hanger and put it in the closet in the hallway.

  “I’m sorry,” Morten said. “I’m just so frustrated. The chief of police just called and asked me to be in his office tomorrow morning. With the cutbacks we’re facing, I’m pretty sure he’s not going to promote me.”

  I grabbed a chair and sat down. “Oh, you’re afraid he’s going to fire you?”

  “I’m not exactly popular on the force right now. Allan won’t even return my calls. They all think I’m some pervert.”

  “I’m sure they don’t think that,” I said and got to my feet. “Let me make us some coffee. I think I have some butter cookies in the cabinet.”

  I grabbed the pot and poured water into it. Morten looked at me. “Is that your answer to everything? Food? Coffee?”

  “Ouch. That hurt,” I said.

  Morten exhaled. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself. I’m just so…so angry with myself. Why did I open that stupid link? Why did I click it?”

  I put the pot on the coffeemaker and turned it on. Then I sat down again. I desperately wanted to indulge myself in a box of cookies to forget everything, but I restrained myself. Morten was right. Food was my answer to everything. It was becoming an awful habit.

  “Anyone could have made that mistake,” I said. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  “But I should have known it didn’t come from you. How could I have been that stupid?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, sweetie. But looking back won’t change a thing. We need to figure out who sent that email in the first place. We need to stop this harassment before it goes any further. I have no idea who is out to get us, but I am determined to find out and make it stop.”

  Morten looked up at me. “How?”

  “I went to the library,” I said. “I found something out. Whoever sent the email, sent it from the library’s computer. It was the same IP address. That tells me he’s somewhere here on the island. We can find him.”

  Morten looked like he couldn’t believe me. “You went on a computer at the library?” he asked.

  “Yes. Don’t worry. I wore a disguise. No one recognized me. Besides, I was the only one there. I was very careful.”

  Morten looked like he might explode. “Are you INSANE?” he yelled.

  “Sh. Keep your voice down. Dr. Sonnichsen is working with Maya upstairs. I saw her car in the driveway.”

  “Have you completely lost it?” Morten asked very loudly. He was angry now. He was furious.

  “You know you’re not supposed to go anywhere near a computer. If they find out, they’ll lock you up. Are you just trying to ruin everything?”

  I froze. What did he just say?

  “What do you mean ‘ruin everything’? You think this is entirely my fault, don’t you? You think I’m to blame for all this.”

  Morten didn’t answer.

  “Answer me, goddammit!” I said.

  He shrugged. “Well…Yes.”

  I couldn’t believe him. “What?”

  “Well, if you hadn’t hacked into the police files so often, it would have never been discovered, would it? I bet that’s how they found the link on my computer. Because they were searching for material on you, to use in their case against you. So, they stumbled onto that stupid video, and now I’m going down with you.”

  I scoffed. “I can’t believe what you’re saying here. You opened that email. Even though you knew it wasn’t from me. I mean, how stupid can you be to open a link like that? You brought this upon yourself. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Oh, now you’re finally telling the truth, huh? What happened to it could have happened to anyone, don’t be so hard on yourself? Huh? Was that just another of your acts?”

  I looked at him feeling tears piling up. What was happening to us? “Morten…” I said, and reached out my hand to touch his arm, but he pulled it away. “Morten, do you want…”

  He interrupted me as he got to his feet. “No, I don’t want anymore STUPID cake or candy or coffee or buns or whatever you want to fill me up with to make me shut up, to make us forget everything else. It might work for you, Emma, but it doesn’t work on me. I’m losing my job here. I might never get to work again. And it’s all your fault!” Stating the final words in a harsh tone, he stormed out and slammed the front door as he left.

  35

  November 2014

  “Oh, happy day! Oh what fun we had today, didn’t we, little Missy? Yes, we did! We had so much fun!”

  The numerologist walked—almost danced—into her apartment and let the rat out of her purse as she walked into the kitchen and started unpacking all of her groceries. The milk was placed in the fridge first to make sure wouldn’t go bad, then the eggs and the cheese. As she pulled out the apples, she couldn’t stop laughing, thinking about that woman in the supermarket and watching her upset face. What a bonus it had been to be able to tick her off like that. The numerologist knew perfectly well who she was, of course she did. It was that lady from the posters, the one running for mayor, who no longer had an opponent because the mayor had been killed. But it had been a lot of fun pretending she didn’t know. Just seeing the look on the woman’s face was priceless.

  “Yes, she was the crazy one, wasn’t she Missy?” the numerologist said, as the rat came into the kitchen and crawled onto the counter. The numerologist unpacked her bags and handed the rat an apple. She sat in front of the computer while eating one herself. Juices from the apple ran down her hand. The numerologist went online to check out the newspapers. To her enjoyment, they were all over the story of the officer and boyfriend of Emma Frost who had been suspended because of some porn movie on his computer. No one asked how the police were tipped off about the movie. How did they even know to look for it?

  That was between the numerologist and the chief of police in Esbjerg.

  The numerologist took another big bite of her apple and slurped the juices from it, licking its sides. She stared at the articles on the screen and printed a couple of them out for her scrapbook. They were worth keeping. She was so immensely proud of herself and what she had accomplished.

  While she was with Maya this afternoon at Emma Frost’s house, she had felt the extreme tension. Even Maya had been frustrated and angry and had talked to the numerologist about it.

  “It’s just so typical that I have to be punished for my mom doing illegal stuff,” she had said. “I can’t believe her. I can’t believe she would do those things. Why can’t she just be an ordinary boring mom like everyone else? I always get dragged into her stupid problems. It’s so embarrassing. Everybody in school is talking about her. Everybody knows about her. And now they’ll be talking about her boyfriend too? I can’t take anymore!”

  The numerologist had spoken for a long time with Maya about how almost all teenagers are ashamed of their parents, but that she also believed she was entitled to be angry with both of them.

  “It’s very irresponsible of them to drag all of you into this,” she said, while smiling widely on the inside. She couldn’t believe how well her plan was working. It was even better than she had imagined. While sitting with Maya in her room, she had felt such joy listening to Emma and Morten arguing loudly downstairs. They were getting on each other’s nerves. The frustration was thick…almost to boiling. She even heard Morten slam the door in anger as he left the house.

  It was pure music to her ears.

  Missy was done with the apple and climbed on the table. The numerologist observed her with joy. There was nothing like Missy to make her happy. Pets were the best, weren’t they?

  The numerologist chuckled with delight as she thought of her next move. A shiver went down her spine. Oh, how amazing it was going to be. She could hardly wait. It was cruel. It was evil.

  It was perfect.

  36

  November 2014

  He had always been a quiet and easy-going kid. That was what his grandparents had always said.

  “Tommy is such a good kid. Tommy always has a smile on his face. Tommy always stays out of trouble.”

  To most people, Tommy Malthesen was an average sixteen-year-old kid who was being raised by two loving grandparents. Tommy’s dad had died in a car accident when he was five, and his mother hadn’t been able to take care of him properly. So, she had given him to her parents and he had lived with them the last ten years. It had been ten good years for all of them. Especially for Tommy, who had enjoyed having a stable life, even though it meant he only saw his mother once or twice a year. He missed her and, in the beginning, it had been difficult for him to understand why she couldn’t keep him, but like in all other aspects of life, Tommy had never said anything, nor had he complained. Tommy was a good boy, a straight A student at the local high school, even if he wasn’t the type that anyone took any notice of. For him, life was all about staying out of sight. Making himself invisible.