Breaking the Ice by Esme Taylor
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Hettie
After drying off and throwing some clothes on, I sat in Reid’s office and took a large sip of wine, staring at the dark blue file in front of me. I love this man and nothing I read in this file will change that, so why am I afraid to open it? I wondered. What secrets were in there that nearly broke us? What was he hiding from me?
Taking a deep breath, I turned the front cover and set his secrets free.
The first thing I noticed was a bright A4 picture of a happy family. It appeared to be a mum, a dad, and three young children: two boys and a girl. My eyes were drawn to the older of the two boys. He was tall and had the most striking blue eyes. And somehow felt oddly familiar.
If I had to guess, I would say the older boy was a teenager, sixteen or seventeen years old, the younger boy looked to be about eleven, and the girl was somewhere around six.
Mountains, snow, tall trees, and a gorgeous lake could be seen in the background behind the smiling family. It was the most stunning place I think I’d ever seen. I had no idea where it was taken, but I knew without a doubt that it wasn’t in England.
Curious, I flipped the picture over to see if there was anything written on the back, but there was only a date: ‘2004’.
Setting the photo aside, I gasped when I found four death certificates paper clipped together in the file.
Lars Johansson (45) Date of Death: 3 March 2004
Cause of Death: Drowning
Lea Johansson (43) Date of Death: 3 March 2004
Cause of Death: Drowning
Samuel Johansson (12) Date of Death: 3 March 2004
Cause of Death: Drowning
Sarah Johansson (5) Date of Death: 3 March 2004
Cause of Death: Drowning
I was so confused. This was obviously a file on Spenser Johansson’s family, but I couldn’t work out how he could be connected with Reid.
Maybe if I keep reading it will give me the answers.
Beneath the four death certificates was a fifth: Andreas Johansson.
Spenser’s grandad.
When I was doing my research into Spenser, I had come across the name of his grandad. At the time, I didn’t think he could be any relation because the article had mentioned his entire family had been killed. However, as I looked at the date of his death, things began to make sense.
Andreas Johansson (80) Date of Death: 4 March 2004
Cause of Death: Heart Attack
Is it possible that the shock of losing his entire family pushed this poor man to his death? I didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t help wondering what it must have felt like to lose your entire family. Surely that loss and grief would consume you. My heart ached for them all, but I still had no idea how Reid was involved. My best guess was that they were distant relatives.
The next few pages talked about the Johansson fortune that would go to the family's only living heir. Which, based upon the ages of the deceased children and the fact that the oldest boy didn’t have a death certificate, was their son.
Included was a breakdown of the grandad’s millions, their insurances, the money that came from the grandmother––who had died five years earlier––plus the money the father had made in his own business. The multi-million-pound figure at the end of the page was mind-blowing.
But I didn’t really care about this family’s money. No amount of money would be worth the pain their son would have had to endure. It just wasn’t worth that much loss and heartbreak.
On the next page, I found a photocopy of a driving license for Spenser Johansson. According to the paperwork, he was seventeen when he had gotten his license in February of 2004.
I took a sip of my wine and looked at the picture of the teenage boy. He looked so happy, confident, and full of hope for the future. I couldn’t imagine what losing his entire family in such a violent way must have done to him. But again, I still didn’t understand what he had to do with Reid.
How is Spenser connected to my Viking?
On the following page, I found a police report that referenced a car crash in Sweden, which I suddenly realized was where the picture of the family must have been taken. The report detailed that it had been poor weather and the road the car was traveling on had been icy, but no more than was usual for that part of Sweden at that particular time of year.
According to the police report, the car hadn’t been speeding, but the skid marks on the road showed that the driver had somehow lost control, left the road, and careened into an icy lake. The report was filled with tire track measurements as well as formulas they had used to calculate the speed the car was traveling at the time of the accident.
At the end of the repot, investigators concluded that the accident had been the result of a mechanical failure. Specifically, the car’s brakes. Which meant, regardless of what the conditions were that day, the driver could not have stopped.
I looked back at the photo and my heart broke all over again. Four lives wiped out by a car that couldn’t stop. A grandparent who died from grief, and a young man who survived, but had to live with the guilt forever. How do you do that? How do you lose everyone you ever loved and still carry on?
Tears fell from my eyes as I took another sip of wine, draining the rest of the glass. If I’d have known what I was getting into, I would have had Reid leave me the bottle.
The file also contained the autopsy reports for each family member killed in the crash, which I just quickly glanced at. It was almost too much for me to bear just reading how those two children had drowned alongside their parents without reading all the details of their deaths. Besides, I knew details would only bring nightmares.
The last thing in the file was another, rather thick, file on Spenser Johansson from a hospital located in Sweden. A majority of it was in Swedish, but there was a summary note clipped to the front it.
On March 3, 2004, Spenser Johansson was admitted to the NorthShaw Central hospital after being trapped under ice in a frozen lake for approximately thirty minutes. A dog walker found Spenser and called the paramedics. Upon their arrival, paramedics began life-saving procedures, but his pupils were unresponsive.
Spenser Johansson was presumed dead at the scene, as his body temperature had dropped to 13.7 C––the lowest recorded body temperature of a hyperthermia victim to date.
Upon his arrival at the hospital, the emergency doctor on call, Dr. Fredriksson, decided to keep him alive artifically while they warmed Mr. Johansson’s body and blood before officially declaring him dead. Two hours after reaching the hospital, Mr. Johansson’s heart began beating on its own. He was in a coma for sixty days, but was released from hospital with no long-term side effects of his trauma.
Fuck drowning or being stuck under ice. I’d never been afraid of water, but I could imagine if this happened, you’d never want to be anywhere near water again.
I glanced at my watch to check the time and was shocked to find I had been reading through the file for over two hours. My neck was sore and desperately needed the bathroom and something else to drink, but I didn’t want to find Reid until I could tell him definitely that I knew his secrets and that it was all right. Right now I still wasn’t any closer to understanding what any of this had to do with him.
After hurrying off to use the bathroom and getting a refill of wine, I returned to the office and continued working my way through the file. Little did I know, the first half––while heart breaking––was nothing compared to what awaited me within the rest of the file.
The things I read made me so angry I could barely see straight. Even though the accident happened in Sweden, the Johansson family lived in England, and the British press had gone wild. Page after page of newspaper articles filled with accusations and salacious stories about the family.
ICE BOY KILLS PARENTS FOR THEIR MILLIONS
BENEATH THE ICE: ONE BOY’S SURVIVAL STORY
JOHANSSON FAMILY SUICIDE PACT GONE WRONG?
This poor seventeen-year-old boy lost his entire family, survived the ice, inherited a multi-million-pound fortune and then was met with this shit… I wished I could have wrapped him a hug and protected him from the world.
My only hope was that he had somehow found a happy ending. I was just glad I didn’t write the story Lewis wanted me to write on him. Clearly, the poor guy had been through more in his young life than anyone should ever have to deal with. He deserved the privacy he so desperately sought.
When I reached the end of the newspaper stories, I closed the file, gutted by this family’s tragic end, and the guilt their young son was left to bear. Still, despite the information the file contained, I was no clearer on how Spenser was connected to Reid.
The only way I am going to get to the bottom of this is by asking him directly, I thought as I rubbed my fingers against my temples in exhaustion.