Buried Angels by Camilla Läckberg Read Free Book Online Page A

her hand, placed it on his genitals, and began rubbing. The farmer’s eyes soon took on a glazed look, and she knew that she had him in her power.
    ‘Do we have a deal?’ she said, slowly unbuttoning his trousers.
    ‘We have a deal,’ he replied, placing his hand on top of her head and pressing it down.

 
    The diving tower at Badholmen loomed as majestically against the sky as it always had. Erica cast aside the image of a man gently swaying from a rope attached to the tower; the last thing she wanted was to be reminded of that awful event. As if trying its best to distract her from such dark thoughts, the small islet of Badholmen was sparkling like a jewel in the water off Fjällbacka. The youth hostel out there was very popular and often fully booked during the summer, and Erica could understand why. The location and the old-fashioned charm of the building made an irresistible combination. but today she wasn’t really able to enjoy the view.
    ‘Is everybody here?’ Feeling her stress levels mounting, she looked around her, counting the children.
    Three rambunctious figures wearing bright orange life-jackets were capering about on the dock.
    ‘Patrik! Maybe you could help out a little here,’ she said, catching hold of the big collar on Maja’s life-jacket as her daughter dashed past, running dangerously close to the edge of the pier.
    ‘Then who did you think is going to start up the motor?’ Patrik threw out his hands, his face flushed.
    ‘If you get the kids into the boat first, before they fall into the water, then you can start the motor.’
    Maja was squirming like a worm to get loose, but Erica had a good grip on the loop of her collar and held on tight. With her free hand she grabbed Noel, who was chasing after Anton on his chubby little legs. Now at least there was only one child running wild.
    ‘Here, come and get them.’ She hauled the boisterous children towards the wooden
snipa
boat tied up at the dock. Clearly annoyed, Patrik climbed up on to the deck to grab Maja and Noel. Then Erica spun around and hurried after Anton, who had taken off in the direction of the little stone bridge between Badholmen and the mainland.
    ‘Anton! Stop!’ she shouted, but he carried on regardless. Despite his best efforts though, Erica caught up with him in the end. Shrieking hysterically, he struggled to break free as she carried him back to the boat.
    ‘My God, why on earth did I think this would be a good idea?’ she said as she handed the sobbing Anton to Patrik. Perspiration running down her face, she untied the mooring line and jumped into the boat.
    ‘It’ll be better when we get out on open water.’ Patrik turned the ignition, and for once the motor started up on the first try. He leaned over to untie the aft mooring line as he used his other hand to keep the boat a safe distance from the next vessel at the dock. It was no easy task to make their way out into the harbour. The boats were crowded together, and if they hadn’t had rubber fenders, neither their own boat nor their neighbours’ would have been able to avoid damage.
    ‘I’m sorry about snapping at you,’ said Erica as she sat down after getting the children to settle on the floor of the boat.
    ‘I’ve already forgotten all about it,’ Patrik shouted, slowly shoving the tiller away from him, which made the boat swing around with the aft towards the harbour and the bow facing Fjällbacka.
    It was a radiantly beautiful Sunday morning, with a clear blue sky and mirror-smooth water. Shrieking gulls circled overhead, and when Erica looked around, she noticed that people were eating breakfast on several of the boats in the harbour. No doubt plenty of people were also still in bed, sleeping off the booze they’d consumed the night before. Saturday nights involved a good deal of drinking for the visiting youths. I’m glad those days are past, she thought and then glanced with much greater tenderness at the children who were now sitting