The Killing Forest by Sara Blædel Read Free Book Online

worrying about a German shepherd biting my ass.”
    “Charlie’s not aggressive. He just has to get to know you. Give him a chance.”
    Eik went on to say that the photographer who had set up the camera blind in Boserup Forest had called while she was talking to Rønholt. “He’ll call back.”
    Reluctantly, Louise grabbed one of the square dog biscuits and held it out. The dog growled from deep in his throat.
    “Come on, give it to him!” Eik said. “Or else he’ll think you’re stringing him along!”
    “This is bullshit!”
    Eik broke out laughing. It flustered her that he looked so great when he laughed; she ignored Charlie’s growling and held out the biscuit, which disappeared in a second. The dog began licking her hand.
    “What did I tell you?” Eik said, gesturing for her to give Charlie another one.
    The dog rested his big head on her lap. “Here!” She pushed him gently and dropped the biscuit on the floor to get him away, but as soon as he ate it, he was back.
    “Oh, look. He loves you,” Eik said. He folded his arms and looked on with obvious contentment as she gave Charlie the last of the goodies. Louise shook her head.
    The phone rang. She wiped her dog-slobbered hand on her pants. “That’s perfect,” she answered when the photographer offered to meet them in the forest and show them the camera that had captured the boy. “We can be there in an hour.”
    Eik caught her attention. “Is the boy in any of the photos we haven’t seen?”
    Louise repeated the question to the photographer, and thanked him when he offered to look through the pictures before meeting them.

8
    C harlie was asleep in the back of Eik’s rattletrap Jeep Cherokee when they entered the forest west of Roskilde forty-five minutes later. They had passed the driveway to Camilla and Frederik’s place, but trees blocked all views of the big manor house.
    “You think this is it?” Eik asked as he signaled with his blinker. A red barrier closed off the forest road, and a sign expressly forbade all vehicles on the private property.
    “I think it’s a little farther,” Louise said. She reached into the front pocket of her bag and pulled out the scrap of paper with directions. “There’s a parking lot and a path leading to a small area with benches.”
    Several hundred meters down the road they saw the parking sign and pulled in.
    “Don’t even think it,” Louise said when Eik made a move to let the dog out. Instead of opening the door, he reached out for Louise and pulled her close.
    “Don’t you think you two can be friends?” He hugged her, his odor filling her nose. She closed her eyes for a moment and enjoyed it, until she heard a car on the road slowing down. She broke away from him just before a light-blue Fiat 500 pulled in and parked beside Eik’s dirty four-wheel-drive.
    The photographer was in his late fifties and partially bald, his gray hair like a wreath gracing his round head.
    “You’re early,” he said, smiling as he tapped his watch. “I thought we were meeting in two minutes!”
    “Right, you’re right, you’re not late,” Eik said. He walked over and introduced himself.
    The photographer slung a camera over his shoulder and locked his car. Something about him made Louise think of her father, an ornithologist, who had the same energetic look when he took off with a pair of binoculars around his neck.
    “You never know what you’ll run into, so I always carry a camera with me,” he explained.
    Louise smiled at him. He took off, waving them down a slope instead of following the gravel path. “This way,” he said, holding back a few limbs for them. “We’ll circle around the edge of the forest until we hit a stretch that juts out into a field. That will take us to the camera.”
    Louise followed Eik. She swore when she stumbled over a root.
    “I have three bases here in the forest,” the photographer said. “They’re placed to capture specific animals. For instance, the boxes I