the walls, much like youâd find in an attic. The only item left in the room that I recognized was the faded rosebud wallpaper. All other traces of my occupancy were long gone or packed away out of sight. I moved closer and pried open the cardboard flaps of a large box, curious about what it held. Dozens of paperbacks were neatly arranged in rows, their covers glossy and brand new. I opened the large box next to it and found a boxful of hardcover books; the third box held Bibles, black covers with gilt lettering. Had my father become an avid reader? Had he turned to religion? I couldnât remember that heâd ever sat down to read anything more than the newspaper, let alone consider theology in any form. In addition to the Bibles, there were mysteries, historical fiction and New York Times bestsellers, light escapist reading.
I straightened and walked over to the window to look at the streaked sky through the boughs of the old pine. I raised the blind and a swirl of light dust drifted around me like flour. Lowering my gaze, I looked across the yard at the trees at the end of our property. As a girl, Iâd spent many hours daydreaming at my desk, which had been positioned in front of the window. For the first time since Iâd entered the house, I felt like Iâd found something of my own. I closed my eyes and imagined myself back in high school with nothing in front of me but a school assignment and possibilities.
If I hadnât been so still, I might have missed the heavy creak of the loose floorboard on the stairs. I held my breath. A second creak even closer, and I exhaled slowly. I whirled around. Whoever had entered the house had done so without my hearing them. The half-open bedroom door seemed like an impossible distance away, and I knew I couldnât get to it before the intruder reached the landing. I was cornered. My breathing was too loud in my ears, but I willed myself to stay calm. If the person creeping up the staircase meant me harm, Iâd know soon enough.
FIVE
T he first thing I noticed about Tobias Olsen as he kicked open the door and stepped inside the room where I was standing was the Glock pistol he held with both hands, pointed directly at my legs. The second was the police uniform under his open leather jacket. I slowly raised my hands and grinned, even though my bottom lip and chin felt like they were quivering uncontrollably.
âHey, Tobias,â I managed to enunciate, since it felt like all the saliva had disappeared from my mouth. âBeen a long time.â
Tobias lowered the gun and squinted at me through pale green eyes. He was over six feet and on the husky side, big enough to put the fear of God into me. âAs I live and die, if it ainât Maja Larson.â He lowered the gun and clicked on the safety before slipping it back into the holster on his right hip. âItâs been over twenty years, but you havenât changed much.â
âThe last time I saw you was high school graduation. Youâve taken up with the law, I see.â
âSorry about your old man,â Tobias said, the corners of his mouth drooping momentarily. âStill, you shouldnât have crossed the police tape, Maja. Figured youâd know better.â
I shrugged. âJust felt like something I had to do.â
Tobias ran a hand through his bristly grey hair as he looked around the room. His eyes rested on the two boxes Iâd opened. âFind anything interesting?â he asked as he crossed the floor to look inside.
âJust some books. This used to be my bedroom.â I didnât know why I felt I had to explain.
âI remember,â Tobias said.
âThatâs funny.â I tried to look into his eyes to see what heâd meant by that remark, but they stayed fixed on the boxes. âI donât remember you ever being in my bedroom.â
âYou had all the guys dreaming. You must have known that, Maja. Every red-blooded