HEJ, MY LOVE

DOG LIFE

Elsa told no one else but Jonas about Sierra being alive. She couldn't leave him tortured by doubts. Her brother deserved to be appeased. The man barely landed when he received devastating news. The inspector asked her colleagues interrogating Rut and Lars to insist on Sierra's death. The trick usually worked on suspects. With a little luck, remorse and guilt would force them to speak.

It worked on Lars, who explained how he regularly updated Rut on Sierra's and Jonas's life without giving it much thought. Elsa shook her head in disapproval behind the interrogation room's glass when Lars explained the event that led him to tell Rut Sierra's whereabouts.

The man proved once more how his genitals led his reflection. There was nothing worse than a cisgender white male's testimony regarding these types of cases. The motives were always silly and without grounds. If it wasn't for sex, it was vengeance. Money usually motivates women.

On the other hand, Rut proved how her genitals could cause the downfall of a kingdom. She refused to speak until her lawyer arrived. From then, the interrogation became a skit one could call The Tonight show with Rut Nielssen. Teary-eyed and battering lashes, the woman attempted to reel in the sympathy, "he blackmailed and harassed me for months. I didn't know what to do. He said he'd kill me if I didn't. He killed Sierra; it could have been me. I was petrified."

Rut was just another ruthless soul trying to save what she could for the investigators. It wasn't hard for them to distill she was the brain and Lars a mutt in her hands.

To make sure they were not mistaken about the role each played, the investigators confronted Lars and Rut with one another.

A foul blame game began between them as they bickered like hens in a farmyard.

"You lied to me."

"What? You're the one who used me, Lars. You hired me so you could fuck me."

They kept their upper body leaning forward and backing away on the table. From the outside, it looked like a you-can-hate-me-now remix of John Travoltas and Oliva Newton-John You're The want That I Want at the fair scene.

"We needed a project manager; you're one. You applied with the intent of getting Jonas. When you're plan backfired, you screwed me. You played with my sentiments, Rut."

"Don't say you didn't want to fuck me."

Elsa's colleagues gave her stares of empathy. Being part of her family looked like a life endeavor.

Though they confessed, Elsa made sure they were held till the max time allowed. She didn't want Rut to tip off the Gauthiers.

Hans and his girlfriend, too, were heard as witnesses. Instead of a sermon, Hans got a comforting hug from his mother. And a good tap on the back from his father for doing the right thing. His parents were so grateful he was safe that they welcomed his girlfriend with honors.

It was the golden time for the police, who hurried to examine Jonas's car and Rufus. The more the hours passed, the more the traces of evidence and leads disappeared.

The doctors gave Sierra something which knocked her out cold. It was the only solution they had to calm the hysterical woman. No testimony could come from her. Everything rested on Rut's testimony.

Morning dawned, but the night held Jonas hostage in his mind

In the meantime, Bertrand sought a way to leave the country. Sweden shared five borders with Denmark, twelve with Norway, and a little less with Finland. The neighboring countries held some, Sweden controlled some alone, and other border crossings had alternate management. Every border had its means, car, ferry, or train.

Since he ditched the car, he opted for the train, which he imagined would have less control than the airport.

All cried out; Leone only managed to sniff. The boy wiped the mucus of his runny nose on his coat. He had not slept; his full diaper worsened the already difficult situation. Bertrand had to act fast. They were in the station's toilet. He had the plastic syringe already prepared; he forced Leone's mouth open and pushed the solution inside, and attempted to shut Leone's mouth. Though it tasted sweet, Leone tried to spit everything out. 

Nothing good could come from this evil person who killed his dog. Poor Rufus was brave. The boy still saw how the dog fought. He wanted to help Leone; the boy was sure of it. His dad always told him that if one did something wrong, something bad happened to them. Thus Leone hoped the horrible man would pay. Leone wished for the bad guy to cry.

"Leone, écoute papa, bois [Leone, listen to dad, drink]."

Dad? Excuse me. You are not my father; Leone thought while he protested.

"No," Leone yelled and pushed away Bertrand's hand. Leone had no intention of making things easy for Bertrand. A few minutes passed, and the boy began to feel drowsy. Even if he did not absorb all of Bertrand's cocktail, the stress and fatigue did the rest.

Bertrand wiped Leone's face and proceeded to cut. The boy in the bulletins had long hair. He had to modify the detail; he didn't like it anyway. If Jonas could not teach and maintain Leone's masculinity, he was not fit to be his parent. Women and men were to remain in the positions God put them. A woman was to be submissive. Bertrand loathed the trends that allowed people to create gender ambiguity. Yes, he was not only racist but everything else, going from transphobic to ablism.

Leone's treasured golden locks swayed to the ground without Leone even having conscious of the act. Once he finished trimming Leone's hair, Bertrand placed him in a baby carrier, and he went to board the morning train. There weren't many police officers, and the ambiance didn't reassure the man. The buzzing and clicking sounds of their radios stressed. Still, the man felt excitement mount as he already relished the sensation yet to be lived of getting away. He expected everything he saw except one.

Dogs.

Bertrand knew the police trained them to sniff out any illegal substances, though he had none; the man sweated when the dog stretched away on his leash and roamed close. Of course, the dog stopped at his level on the line.

The hound looked at Bertrand, and despite the don't-you-dare glare Bertrand threw, the animal barked, alerting the officer who approached.

The officer looked at Leone, who slept, and gazed back at Bertrand, who moved when the dog sniffed his hand. "Papers, please?"

Bertrand feigned a smile, "eh, just a sec."

"Can you step out of the line, sir?" The officer asked when the dog barked a second time.

"Why, what's the matter?"

The officer made a sign with his hand for backup and repeated, "please step out of the line, sir."

Bertrand did not have all the information concerning border dogs. They whiffed illegal substances but also blood and gunpowder. He was a man of high rank; he refused to run or verbally grovel. Bertrand was stuck, hundreds of ideas rushed to his mind, and all showed it was a dead end.

He looked down at the dog. The hound glared and accused with each bark. To make things worse, another guard came with a dog that growled as well to confirm the first dog alert.

Karma.

Some lessons take time, while others are immediate. Rufus wanted to save Leone. Even as he rendered his last breath, the dog saw his young master carried away by a stranger. How ironic at that instant, the one to catch Bertrand was no other than a hound.