“Maybe you ought to walk up to the church and get an overview,” a voice suggested from right behind her.

Anette turned around and found herself looking into sea-green eyes. Mads Teigen.

“What are you doing here?” Her surprise made her sound gruff.

“I was the one who called the search and rescue folks. I know Nicklas from the fish place, who saw the boat. I thought you could probably use some assistance.”

Anette contemplated the crewman from Search and Rescue Services and the two volunteers. Mads had a point. It was kind of a ragtag bunch.

“Maybe we could.” She looked at the white church on the top of the hill, shining like a sign in the sunlight. An arrow pointing up to Our Lord, an outstretched hand to a searching soul, perhaps? “Is the view good from up there?”

“You can see most of the island,” he replied.

“Okay.” She pointed to the crewman. “You guys search the harbor! Ask everyone you meet if they’ve seen him! Meanwhile, the fortress caretaker and I will walk up the hill and get an overview.”

She nodded to Mads and asked, “Shall we?”

The road curved its way out of town and looped around the hill, turning steeply upward past beautiful houses with neatly tended patios in terraces going up the slope. They fell into stride, and Anette was thankful to be able to keep up with him without getting winded. At the top of the hill, they reached the church and its surrounding cemetery. Mads stopped with one hand on the handle of the wrought iron fence.

“Did you know that isola originally stems from the Latin word for ‘island’?”

Anette sensed that she was not meant to respond.

“People who go to an island, go specifically to isolate themselves and be alone.” Mads stayed with his hand on the handle, his broad shoulders forming a wall in front of her.

“Is that why you live on Trekroner…?”

He didn’t answer. After a brief moment, he pushed down on the handle and opened the gate into the cemetery at the Church of Saint Ibb.

Anette watched him walk in. Then she followed.

“ANYTHING TO EAT?”

Sara shook her head and ignored the server’s pointed look. She had been sitting for half an hour over a single pot of tea and knew that her bill would not help Paludan Books & Café pay their rent. Around her, groups of friends were gossiping over extended Sunday brunches, and she did her best to shut out their conversations and the aroma of their pancakes. Oscar’s computer sat on her café table beside the teapot. Her mother had ended up staying home with the girls, because Amina flat out refused to go to the swimming pool, and Sara was forced to leave the house to find somewhere to work.