In one blazing moment, the inside of the lodge is lit up. It’s just a single room, which functions as a kitchen, dining room, bedroom, all in one. My gaze wanders around it, until it finally lands on a young woman, tied up to a chair in the corner. Fynn’s hands remove the ropes quickly, but the handcuffs on her hands are still there.
“Where are the keys?” he asks her, taking off the gag.
Her eyes are still adjusting to the light, bloodshot and red. Her hair is a mess of a bird’s nest, and there are several scratches on her. But, apart from that, she’s alive and well, which isn’t what many who met Sven could boast with. This girl’s pretty lucky.
“Let me do this.”
I walk over to them, and I notice a hair pin in her hair. I reach for it, but the girl flinches, and scurries backward.
“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” I say this as soothingly as I can.
She opens her eyes again, so I reach for the pin and this time, she lets me have it.
“May I?”
I take her by the hands, and pick the lock on the handcuffs easily. One of my talents, I guess, if you could call it that. It’s weird that a cop would know how to pick locks. But, it did come in handy more than once over the years of our service in the force.
“There,” I take them off her cold, trembling hands. “Better?”
She nods. “T-thank you,” she manages to muster.
“Are you alone?” Fynn asks, still on the lookout. It wouldn’t be the first time someone jumped on us from the darkness, just as we were letting our guard down.
“The guy just… left,” she says, not believing it herself. But, a few more seconds assured us that the inside of the lodge is safe.
“What the Hell, Sven?” Fynn grunts, resting his hands on his hips, and sniffing the air again.
“Are you alright?” I ask the girl. “Cold? Hungry? Thirsty?”
She rewards my efforts with a worn out smile. “A little thirsty.”
“Let’s get you back to the car, I have a bottle of water there and a blanket if you’re cold.”
She smiles even more widely at this, then follows me outside. I find the bottle in the glove compartment, and she drinks half of it thirstily. I also take out the blanket and wrap it over her shoulders, knowing it’s not the cold that makes her tremble like that, but still, a warm sensation will relax her muscles.
“We’ll get you back to your home in no time,” I tell her. “Your father is eagerly waiting for your return.”
“Did he send you?”
“Yes,” I nod.
“So, you’re the cops that the guy who kidnapped me clearly stated he doesn’t want on the case?”
I can hear the brittle sharpness with which she cut me just now, but just like with Fynn, I choose to ignore it.
“This is a delicate situation, lady, and - “
“Don’t call me lady, I have a name, you know.”
“Miss Holloway, as I was saying, the guy who kidnapped you isn’t just a small time crook, nor is the thing he asked for simple money. It’s actually - “
“None of her business,” Fynn appears, interrupting me curtly. “We’re just here to get her home. Sven’s not here anymore, so we can get the Hell out of here.”
“But, why did he just leave me like that, after all that effort at getting me here?” the girl asks.
I look at Fynn, hoping he might have an answer to this, because I sure as Hell don’t. This doesn’t look like Sven at all. This is too calculated, like he’s planned out 5 steps ahead, and is letting the situation unravel exactly according to his plan. That feeling doesn’t sit right with me.
“Let us worry about that,” Fynn chooses not to reply to that. “You just relax and you’ll be home in no time.”