Crown of Shadows - C. S. Friedman [224]
“My wife and I divorced two years ago.” He said the words quickly, forcing them out before he could think about them. Before the pain could take hold again. “We had three children. I got custody. A girl, Sofie, and two boys, Rori and Tonio. I have all the particulars here....” He reached into his jacket and brought out a small packet of papers; he cradled it in his hands as he spoke as if it were itself some precious living thing. “My wife was ... abusive. Not toward me, but when she was angry, or when she was frustrated, she used to take it out on the kids.” He paused, biting his lip. Gods, how the memories hurt! “I had to prove that to get custody of all three. I had to ... there were bruises ... I had to discuss some things....” He shook his head, feeling the tears come again. Hating himself for being that weak in front of a stranger. “She was furious about the judgment. She spent a year trying to fight it in court, then finally gave up and left Jaggonath. I don’t know where she went. Things were so bad between us then ... we couldn’t talk. Not about anything. She was so bitter. So angry.” He looked up and found the black eyes fixed on him; hungry, hungry eyes. “I don’t know what happened,” he whispered. “I was so careful....”
“You think she kidnapped your children.”
His eyes squeezed shut as he remembered. The empty house. The closets and drawers in disarray, so obviously ransacked for supplies. The open door, swinging in the wind. “I know it,” he choked out. “I’d left them in Toni’s care—he was so proud of being old enough to take care of the others, a little man of the family!—and then, when I came home ... nothing! What else could have happened? He would never have opened the door to a stranger. There wasn’t any sign of a struggle. Who could have done it, other than her?”
The pale man regarded him as he reached for a cup by his side. His eyes never leaving the man‘s, he sipped from it, then set it aside. “You’ve gone through legal channels.”
“Oh, yes. First the police. They were no help at all. I’ve been through three private investigators, and they keep coming up with promising leads, but each time they get to a place they find out that she just left it. Once, it turned out she was never there at all.”
Forrest nodded thoughtfully. “She’s running. And she has the sense to set a false trail, or at least make an effort at it.”
“They can’t help me,” he stammered. “I was told ... maybe you can. I’ll do anything,” he added quickly. “Just get them back for me, and you can name your price. If I have it, it’s yours.”
For a long time Forrest looked at him. In the silence the man could hear his own heart pounding; did he look as desperate as he felt? If you fail me now, he thought, what other hope is there? But he didn’t dare move. He didn’t dare speak. The black gaze had him frozen, like a nudeer in a predator’s jaws.
“I can track her,” Forrest said at last. “I can get your children and bring them back to you. I can see that she never interferes in your life again. The price is one hundred fifty a day, plus expenses. Do you care if your ex-wife is injured?”
“I—” For a moment the words wouldn’t come; he had to force them out. “I’d rather not. If that’s possible.”
“One hundred and sixty, then. Payment due in full when the children are returned to you.”
He offered his hand. The man stared at it for a moment, then took it. And shook it, hard.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
“Thank me when the work is done, Mer Helder.”
He indicated the packet of papers in his hand. “I have all the information written down here, including the reports of the men I hired. Charcoal portraits of the children—”
“Leave it,” Forrest said quietly. “I’ll go through it tonight. For now, go home. Forget you ever came here. The next time you see me will be when I bring you your children. If you seek me out before that, I’ll consider our contract null and void. Do you understand that?”
“I understand,