The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

THE CAR TURNED off the main road and continued along the tractor path, which led straight into the woods. Dark had fallen, and only the cold beam from the headlamps showed the way. Here the pines were taller than usual on Gotland. They stood close together, with thick brush in between, their branches reaching out for each other to form a shield from the wind when storms swept across the island. Although right now there was no wind. The solitary car jolted along, only to stop in the glade near the small marsh, which was actually little more than a boggy patch of land. The moon shone round and white above the mirror-smooth water. Mist slowly rose up from the surface towards the sky, where it dispersed and vanished into an empty nothingness.
    The couple tumbled out of the car, already immersed in their game. She clung to him, lips against lips, body against body, feverish hands reaching under their clothes. She laughed, and the sound travelled across the water, ricocheting between the gnarled tree trunks and the boulders, aimlessly scattering here and there, as if coming out of nowhere. An old willow stretched out its branches over the black and cold water, grazing the motionless surface.
    She leaned against the trunk, spread out her arms and closed her eyes. The smell of damp earth in her nostrils, the cool, dewy air against her bare skin excited her even more. When he bit her hard on the shoulder, she cried out, pulled out of his grasp and ran off towards the woods. Up on the hill across from the marsh, he caught up with her and pressed her against a pine tree. The bark scraped at her back. His eyes glitteredin the dim light. Slowly he began unbuttoning her clothes. He ran his fingers along her shoulder until the cloth gave way and fell in a heap at her feet. She hadn’t bothered to wear a bra. She had been longing for him for days.
    She shivered. His face was so close. In the moonlight it looked like the face of a stranger. They didn’t speak during their game. He sighed as he slid his hand over her body, touched her breast, stopped, circled. He carefully caressed her with his fingertips, following the line where her ribs joined, moving down to her navel, then wandering upward again. Slowly, back and forth, until she began to moan with desire. Without her noticing, he leaned down to the bag sitting in the grass at his feet. With his hand behind his back, he cautiously rummaged among the contents until he found what he was looking for. The minuscule, nearly transparent thong she was wearing barely covered her sex. You naughty girl, he thought excitedly. You knew what was coming. He circled her navel with his tongue, then cautiously bit the lower part of her stomach, which was smooth and firm, like a boy’s. Then he moved up, caressing her, holding the blindfold behind his back. He kissed her breasts, reached her slender throat. Such a vulnerable spot, he thought as he tenderly nibbled and licked the delicate skin. He could feel her veins under the tip of his tongue, her blood vessels just below the surface. Then he raised his arms and in a flash tied the blindfold around her eyes. The black mask covered them securely. He knew that everything had now gone dark for her.
    ‘What are you doing?’ She giggled uncertainly. ‘What are you up to?’
    Her hands automatically flew up to her head. Her palms glowed white. He thought they looked like two lost birds, fluttering through the air without knowing where to go.
    ‘Now, now,’ he admonished her. ‘Take it easy. Never a danger if you’re careful with a stranger,’ he hummed, taking the phrase from an old nursery rhyme. At the same time, he pulled out the rope, which had been hidden inside the bag. The clumsy fumbling of her hands stopped abruptly when he took a firm grip on them, tying the rope tightly around her wrists and hoisting her arms above her head.
    A moment later she was tied securely, bound to the tree, and unable to escape. She was helpless, in his power, which was something he enjoyed. It was just the two of them here, the trees their only audience. Far away from everyone and everything. A separate universe. He did as he liked. She was tied to the tree, unseeing, like a newborn baby.
    And he exploited her vulnerability to the fullest.

THE MOMENT THAT Andrea Dahlberg turned on to their usually peaceful residential street, she was struck by a feeling of unease. The affluent community of Terra Nova, just outside of Visby, was an area where nothing