Three, Four...Better Lock Your Door (20 page)

"I’ve never dated another journalist before," I said. "I guess I can't have many secrets."

Christian looked at me. I was so attracted to him at that moment. He seemed so vulnerable, so sad and yet so strong.

"Or maybe that's what I like about you," he said. "Your mysteriousness. You have an aura of mystery surrounding you.”

I laughed loudly. "I was just thinking that same thing about you. I can't quite put my finger on it. It's like you’re somehow too perfect."

"Then I guess we're the perfect match."

I laughed again and so did he.

We took a cab to the restaurant. Christian had reserved a table at Brohjoernet - which was an old family-owned restaurant right on the water that served old-fashioned Danish dishes like roasted pork with potatoes and parsley sauce or chopped steak with fried onions. The building was from around 1820 situated with views over the waters and Enoe in the distance. We sat at a table by the window and enjoyed the glistening lights from the cars crossing the bridge to the island. It was dark outside but the many lights from houses and cars on Enoe made the view spectacular. It was like the night was on fire.

I had a steak while Christian had the roasted pork. We didn't find it hard to talk to one another like I usually did on a first date. On the contrary we talked so much we hardly had time to eat. Christian made me laugh. He was charming and funny and he had a twinkle in his eye when he spoke. He was passionate about his work and especially about his time in Zimbabwe. He liked being there, he liked it even more so than being in Denmark, he said.

"It was hard to get back."

"Why?" I sipped my wine.

"Because it is so different here. No one is starving, everybody has everything and they don't even know how to appreciate it. Once you've tried living in a place where there is need and once you've tried what it is like to be able to help these people, to live for others instead of just yourself, then you can't go back. It was the most fulfilling yet the most frustrating time I have ever had. But I'd rather have that than living here where everything is status quo. Where there is nothing at stake. Plus it's really cold here compared to there."

I laughed. "I know. I've always dreamt about doing what you've done. Go out into the world and experience what it is like. I would love to help people like that. To hand them food or help them build a school."

Christian drank from his glass. His eyes were serious, passionate. "It was quite fulfilling. But also frustrating because you can't help everybody. The need is so huge that you can hardly comprehend it. I came there as a journalist expecting to do the organization's newsletter, website and basically help spread the word about what they do in order to raise more money but I ended up doing everything else too. By the end I was also a handyman, a schoolteacher and a nurse."

I ate some of my steak thinking how I was wasting my life making no difference in this world to anyone. But it was hard to go out in the world when you had a child who needed education and a stable environment. When I had been a war-correspondent in Iraq I had somehow felt that I was making a difference. I was telling important stories about how the Danish soldiers were helping the population, how they were changing their lives and how they were fighting to get democracy, something we took so terribly for granted in our daily lives. I had found my job there extremely fulfilling. But then I had Julie and now I was here.

Democracy, I thought and tasted the word while my eyes wandered in the room. Wasn't it my job as a reporter to protect it? Wasn't it my duty to tell the Danish population when power was misused by politicians? I sighed and looked at Christian while he was talking about Africa while gesturing with his hands. I needed this kind of passion back in my life.

But was I willing to pay the price?

I didn't know. Julie was my whole life now. I had to protect her before anything else.

"You’re so quiet all of a sudden," Christian said.

I smiled. "It's just been a busy couple of days lately. It's nice to do something else than work for a change."

Christian smiled and nodded. "I know what you mean."

"I bet you do. It can probably get hectic at the
Express
every now and then," I said. I emptied my glass of wine. Christian poured more in it. I was getting tipsy, but let it happen. I wanted to be relaxed and enjoy this moment. This was a nice restaurant and a nice guy that I was getting more and more attracted to as the night progressed. He kept ordering more wine and little by little I let my guard completely down. I told him about my ex-husband, how we met, how we had grown apart, how he had developed mental issues after coming back from war, how he had become more and more sick as the months passed and how I finally had to leave him in order to protect my daughter.

"That must have been tough on Julie?" Christian asked.

I smiled. I loved that he thought about her before me. I nodded. "It was. She was still pretty young so she didn't understand much of it, but she missed him a lot. Still does."

"So where is he now?"

I shrugged. "Haven't heard from him in two years. He probably left the country to go God knows where. Like you he found it hard to come back. He was an adrenalin junkie. So he kept going back."

"That's really sad," Christian said. "He had everything. A beautiful wife and a wonderful daughter. I don't get people who throw away everything like that. What I wouldn't give to have what he had."

"You're a family man?" I asked surprised. He kept amazing me. He was nothing like I had first taken him for.

"I always wanted a family."

"So why don't you?"

"Well, it just never happened. I'm thirty-seven and I'm still alone," he said. "I guess I made some stupid choices along the way. I thought it would happen eventually, but it never did."

"Haven't you been close? Like engaged to be married or something?" I asked while the waiter brought my dessert. Apple pie with whipped cream. I didn't even think about it twice before I dug in.

 "There have been a few," he said while I ate, "but never anything really serious. I think I have been too involved in my work to really be able to devote myself fully to a relationship."

The warm apple pie tasted heavenly. I drank some wine. Then I looked at him. His eyes had a sadness to them.

"My parents died when my sister and I were only eight," he said. "I guess I find it hard to be close to anyone. I'm too afraid to lose them."

I smiled and put my hand on top of his. The touch made my skin shiver. He had never looked so attractive than he did at this vulnerable moment.

"So you're twins? You and your sister?" I asked. "You said you were both eight when they died."

Christian nodded. "Yes. Yes we are."

"That's nice." I sipped more wine and felt a little dizzy now. Christian smiled his charming smile and I suddenly felt an urge to kiss him.

"So who do you think is the killer?" he suddenly asked me.

"The lobotomy killer? I don't know. But I have a feeling that someone really wants us to think that it's a blond woman."

Christian became serious. "Why would you say that?"

"Wait. Are you only asking because you want a story for your paper?" I asked.

"You got me," he said. "I guess I only took you to dinner to pump you for inside information." He looked at me.

I felt bad. "I'm sorry," I said. "Like I said. I'm not used to dating other journalists."

He smiled. "Well I'll forgive you." He paused. "I was only interested in your opinion. Nothing else. Just making conversation."

"Okay. But if you really want to know then I think it's weird that the killer makes an effort not to leave any fingerprints behind but the last couple of killings they have found hair, long blond hair. It’s a little too strange, if you ask me. Too obvious."

Christian nodded. "You make a good point. But couldn't it just be a coincidence?"

"I don't know. Luckily it's not my job to catch the killer only to write about it and hopefully one day write the article about who it was."

Christian looked at me. Then he lifted his glass and made a toast. "To leaving it to the police to catch the lobotomy killer," he said as our glass touched.

Christian paid for dinner and we started walking along the canal. Huge wooden fishing boats were in the water waiting for dawn to arrive and another work-day to begin.

"There is something that has caused me to wonder about you," I said.

"And that is?"

I looked at him. He smiled again. I adored that smile. "How come you're always so fast to get at the scene of crime? You're always there before me."

Christian laughed. "And I bet you don't like that."

I shook my head. "No, I really don't."

"You're so competitive.  Can't stand to lose, can you?"

I chuckled. "I know. It's bad isn't it?"

"A little," he said. "Not your most attractive side."

"But I really don't understand how you can get there so fast from Naestved?"

He paused. He looked at me. "Why Naestved?" he asked. "Ah, I get it. You think I live in Naestved, don't you? Just because I work there."

"Don't you? It would be the sensible place to live. Close to work and everything."

"Sure. But I don't. As a matter of fact I live not far from here. Right up that street up there and to your right."

I laughed. "That makes more sense," I said. "So you must have a police scanner just like we do?"

He smiled. "Yes. You got me. You didn't invent it you know. Many journalists and freelance photographers own them."

"I know." I paused again. "Say how come I haven't seen your name on any of the bylines in the paper yet?" I asked.

Christian smiled and chuckled.

I nodded. "I get it," I said. "Just like Frederik to take credit for the stories himself. He is the laziest journalist I have ever met. Can you believe he never shows up to anything around here? He just writes the stories often based on tips from people calling in or news-telegrams. I know he hates being stuck out here in the countryside writing stories he doesn't think matter to anyone. I bet he makes you do all the work now, huh? That would suit him perfectly fine."

Christian scoffed. "Well it sounds like you know him," he said.

We both walked on in silence. I felt his hand in mine. I leaned on his shoulder. "This is nice," I said.

He stopped. I felt his hand under my chin. He lifted it gently. Then I felt his lips on mine. I closed my eyes. His lips were so soft. His kiss made my skin shiver. I kissed him back. Gently, awaiting, luring him in. Then he became demanding, insisting. He held my face between his hands while he kissed my face, my neck, and my ears. He moaned in my ear, whispered under his breath.

"I want you badly. I want to be inside of you. I've wanted it since the first time we met."

I touched his face while taking my decision. He was shaking. Then I kissed him.

"Let's go to your place," I said when our lips parted.

C
HAPTER 35

S
HE WATCHED THEM
all night. Watched this nice couple out on their first date together. The woman was sitting right behind them in the restaurant overlooking the water. She watched them eat and drink and listened in on their conversation. She couldn't help it. They were so sweet, so horrifically nice. They talked about all kinds of things. They got to know each other really well. He talked about living in Africa and helping children while working for some organization out there. It was so nice, the woman watching thought to herself. The way he cared for other people. That was really admirable.

The woman looked delicate in her dress that she told him her daughter had picked out for her. She was truly a beauty and he was quite the catch as well.

They ate and drank wine till their cheeks turned reddish. Then the man paid the bill, like the gentleman he was, and they left the restaurant amicably chatting and laughing.

The woman followed them as they walked along the canal. They were chatting, holding hands and then they stopped and to her great joy they finally shared their first kiss. She watched them from a distance while they were suddenly all over each other.  She enjoyed the desire, the lust that surrounded them. She lived for it, she craved it.

It made her want to kill.

But she had to restrain herself standing there by the canal. This wasn't the time or the place. Her time would come soon, she thought as she followed them up the street towards his apartment. She felt like clapping her hands with excitement as she saw them walk inside the building without locking the door. This was almost too easy. What a pity, she thought. Such nice people.

She followed them up the stairs as they stopped to kiss again. It made her smile and giggle on the inside with pure joy. Oh the expectation of what was about to happen. Oh the pleasure this was going to give her.

The man opened the door to the apartment and their lips hardly moved away from each other as they walked through it. The woman giggled and followed them inside. Then she locked the door behind her while she heard them moan and groan in the bedroom where they were already undressing each other, throwing their clothes on the floor. It was almost unbearably arousing and thrilling for her to watch.

The man was sucking on the pretty woman's breasts and drinking from her lips. He was whispering dirty words in her ears that the woman watching could hardly hear but she knew them all too well. They were all the same. They were moaning and groaning the same words. It was disgusting, but also highly exciting to the woman in the hallway peeking in through the bedroom door that was slightly ajar.

The man was penetrating the woman now and she was moaning with desire, crying out for more and more, wanting him to keep on, go faster, do it harder. The woman watching felt a shiver go down her back, the shiver of extreme pleasure.

The sound of the bodies slamming against each other, the cries from the woman as she neared climax, the wildness of the man, the muscles moving, the sweat that caused their skin to glisten. He became wilder and more demanding. He was riding her now. Holding her hair while entering her, wilder and harder.