Henrik had promised to meet us on shore and there he was, leaning on the hood of the police car, his own car doors open, speaking easily to the driver. As we approached, he got up. Vee put the car seat gently on the ground and stepped forward to kiss him. Elsa threw her arms very tightly around her father, whispered something to him, then stepped back awkwardly, as if embarrassed.

Henrik smiled. “How is my most excellent grandson?” he said, looking down at Franklin. “Ready for a day of soft play and as many smoothies as he can eat?”

“You know those things are basically just sugar?” said Vee.

“Thanks for doing this, Henrik,” I said.

He stepped toward me and bear-hugged me. “Just . . . don’t hand these men any sort of victory.”

“We won’t.”

Elsa was leaning down, strapping Franklin’s seat into her father’s car.

I turned to the police officer. “I need our car for after Garden Island. I’ll follow you.”

Elsa sent me a questioning look. Please, I thought at her. Don’t ask me why.

Elsa nodded.

Vee stared at me for a moment, but got dutifully into the rear seat of the police car.

“See you there, love,” I said.

When we hit the two-lane highway I dropped my speed, let a pair of Teslas fall in between me and the police Volvo. After five minutes I let myself fall out of sight.

By seven I was parked across the road that led to the farmhouse. There were the doves, turning lazy circles in the air above. And there was the Land Cruiser. I had guessed Bror would be here, that he was weary after a weekend of questioning, that the farmhouse would have seemed the easiest option. He would be no match for me now. But here he was, striding across the yard to his car.

I walked to the gate, opened it.

The Land Cruiser drifted forward. Bror glared out. I waved him past, closed the gate.

He came to a stop beside me. “Your car is impeding my car’s progress,” he said.

“It is.”

“Perhaps you are more stupid than I realized.” Any charm, any hold he ever had over me, was gone.

“Perhaps I am,” I said. “Where is she?”

“Do I not make myself clear?”

“You made an implicit threat. Where’s my daughter?”

He got out of the Land Cruiser, stood staring into my eyes. “Move your car.”

“Was that Milla you sent? Standing over my son like that?”

“Move your car.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Was it Milla who recruited Licia?”

“Weak little believe-nothing centrist cuck scum.”

“Nice.”

“Sorry.” He smiled. “That was Licia’s verdict on you, Cal. Her actual words when we spoke on the phone. I had tried to warn her that she wouldn’t like what she found, but she needed to see for herself.”