Chapter Text
Private investigator Sheldon leaned back in his well-worn leather seat and put his feet on the office desk.
A few minutes ago he had finished his last job, telling his current client, a rich club owner, who was trying to discredit him. It had taken a lot of asking around, bribing certain people and exerting mild threads over other certain people, but in the end Sheldon had managed to procure the damning evidence. In his line of work he had faced more difficult challenges, of course, but not too much. And his payment had been sweetened with a bonus, so all the running around had been worth it.
But now Sheldon wanted to celebrate his success. He had uncorked a nice bottle of old whiskey that he had saved for special occasions and now sipped carefully at his glass to savor every mouthful.
After finishing his drink he would close up his office and go home for twelve, maybe more hours of undisturbed sleep. When working on a case, Sheldon simply forgot the basic need to sleep, focussing solely on his work. That might have been one of the reasons why he was the damn best private investigator in Valkyrie Falls. If something or someone needed to be found, he was the guy you asked.
Of course his fee wasn't exactly cheap, but his track record of solved cases was unrivalled. Therefore, Sheldon was never shy of clients. Most of them, however, didn't have any challenging cases. He usually took them anyway, but when men came to him to find out if their wives cheated on them, Sheldon send them away. He had some standards, after all, and if those guys needed an investigator to find out something glaringly obvious like that, it was absolutely hopeless anyway.
Sheldon took the last sip of his whiskey and tried not to close his eyes. If he did, he would fall asleep right here, and as comfortable as his seat was, the bed at home was the better choice. Just five more minutes or so, and he would get up…
A sharp knock on the door woke Sheldon from his slight doze. He needed a moment to clear the haziness of his vision, but then he looked at his watch. In exactly five minutes his business hours would be over. Someone wanted to cut it close.
"Damn, can't this wait until tomorrow?" Sheldon grumbled, getting up from his seat and straightening out his tie. If this was just another miserable sod with a cheating wife…
He grabbed the handle and yanked the door open, ready to tell his late visitor to come back tomorrow - or never, for that matter.
The person standing on his threshold was clearly no cheating husband and no bored wife needing incriminating evidence back from the apartment of her lover who now blackmailed her. It was a lashran, like Sheldon himself, but there any similarities ended. The private investigator wasn't that tall for a sire, but towered over the petite lifebearer nevertheless. And whereas Sheldon was dark-haired and dark-eyed due to his human grandmother, the stranger practically glowed in the dim light of the hallway. He had almost white-blonde curls, tumbling over his shoulders, and a very fair complexion for a lashran, which told of a parent being human. The eyes, a startling shade of turquoise, were shadowed and red-rimmed.
As hard-boiled as Sheldon was, the sight of this obviously distressed and very pretty young lifebearer moved him. "What can I do for you?" he asked, taking on the most gentle tone he was capable of.
"Mr. Sheldon? May I speak with you? I know it's late, but it's very important." The stranger's voice was soft and sweet.
Sheldon nodded. "Please come in."
His late visitor practically sneaked in, making no sound at all. He was wearing a dark coat and a hat that was supposed to hide that brilliant hair, but it was not very effective. Sheldon almost smiled when he thought of those old black and white crime movies he had loved as a kid. The investigator always got late visits from a mysterious, blond beauty trying to hide their identity at the beginning of the movie.
Sheldon closed the door behind the young lifebearer. "Please take a seat, Mr…"
The late visitor sat down on a chair opposite Sheldons's desk. "Just call me C," he said, telling Sheldon at once that the young man's identity was important. But his reputation forbid him any prying. If Sheldon's client wanted to stay anonymous for the time being, he had every right to be.
"Then Cee it is. What can I do for you?" Sheldon leaned against his office desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest. In that position he dwarfed Cee even more, but Sheldon had learned during the years that a slightly intimidated client was easier to work with.
Those sad, turquoise eyes looked up at him. "I want you to find my son. He's been missing for a week now."
A nasty little voice inside Sheldon's head made a disappointing sound, but he quickly shoved it away. This was business, damn it, and he was just tired.
"Can you tell me more about it?" Sheldon asked. "Where was he last seen? Has the police any clues?"
Cee shook his head. "Fyn was playing with his dog in our garden. It's very large, and there's a high wall with an alarm system attached to it. The police found out that the alarm system had been damaged in the way professional housebreakers work. There were no clues at all. I… I let my son out of sight for maybe half an hour. And his dog is a very big one, trained to protect him. When I went back into the garden to call Fyn inside the house for dinner… he was gone." Cee quickly rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. "The dog had been shot with a tranquillizer dart."
"Any ransom demands yet?"
"No! I… well, my mate is very wealthy, and we'd be able to pay any sum, but there hasn't been any demand! And the police has all but given up!" Cee's voice broke, and he tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to overflow his eyes.
Sheldon considered everything he had heard so far. Now that sounded like a challenge. He had solved some kidnapping cases before, so it wasn't new territory. The lack of any ransom demands was alarming, but he was confident that he would find those bastards who had kidnapped the child.
Finally he nodded. "All right, I'll help you. But at first I need a picture of your son and every relevant information about him."
Cee took a little photo out of his pocket and gave it to Sheldon. It showed a miniature version of Cee with shorter hair and some freckles. The little boy was hugging a huge cinnamon-colored retriever dog and smiled broadly, showing a cute tooth gap where a baby tooth was missing. "Fyn is a lifebearer, four years old and about three feet tall. And he has a permanent splint on his right lower leg because of a badly healed fracture. He… fell down the stairs two years ago. Therefore he can't run very fast and is limping."
The shadow that flew over Cee's face told Sheldon that there was something more about the child's injury than he was telling. But for the moment it was a vital information Sheldon stored away in his mind for later. He put the picture on his desk and turned to Cee again. This time he tried to strike a less intimidating pose.
"I also need your real name, I'm afraid," he said carefully. "If it's not about ransom money, maybe someone has a grudge against you or your mate."
But Cee shook his head vigorously, curls flying around his face. "No. I'm sorry, but no. This is too delicate a matter."
Sheldon's expression darkened. "Excuse me, but you're not making this any easier for me. I have to investigate your family and your background to find any clues about Fyn's whereabouts. Of course you could yet receive a ransom demand, or some plain housebreaker panicked and took the boy with him. But those are only two possibilities. I have to investigate all of them. If you want me to find the kid, you need to trust me."
For a few moment silence reigned. Cee finally looked up at Sheldon, visibly struggling with himself. "Mr. Sheldon, can you swear to me not to tell anybody under any circumstances how you came to know the things I'm about to tell you?"
"Of course. I'm bound to professional discretion like a physician or a lawyer," Sheldon answered solemnly.
His visitor took another deep breath. "All right. My mate's name is Aravin Holden."
"Holden? As in Holden Hotels?"
"Yes. My mate manages the Valkyrie Falls branch."
Sheldon raised an eyebrow. The Holden hotel chain was one of the biggest on this continent, catering to the rich and famous. The investigator had set foot in one of their luxurious establishments one or two times, and the employees has looked at him as if he were a stray dog. Cee had a "wealthy mate" indeed.
And of course this opened up a whole new bunch of reasons for kidnapping the boy. The Holden family was practically a dynasty, priding themselves in building the first inns on this continent in times when lashran were still fighting with swords and humans had been more or less a legend. It was very old money.
Since Sheldon had a mind like a rat's nest, keeping absolutely anything in there that could be even remotely useful some day, he could remember what he had read about the Holden family. Aravin had an older brother, Othric, also a sire, who was the current head of the family and the business. Othric was divorced, and his son, a lifebearer named Sylair, appeared on the tabloids here and there, being a mindless party animal who loved to surround himself with actors and music stars.
Aravin having a mate had never been mentioned in the press, as far as Sheldon recalled.
"All right," Sheldon say finally. "I'll be as careful as possible and start right away tomorrow morning. I'd like you to contact me if there are any news, for example if the kidnappers demand a ransom. You can reach me with his number or the mail address any time." He took a business card from his desk and gave it to Cee.
The lifebearer put it away in his pocket, then he looked at Sheldon with a shaky, sweet smile. "Thank you so much, Mr. Sheldon."
Sheldon found it impossible to be immune to that smile. "I'll do my best to find your child. But I'm afraid I have to insist on a payment up front. The rest of the fee will be due when I have found Fyn."
Once again there was a silent struggle behind Cee's eyes. Finally he murmured, "How much?"
"Three thousand," Sheldon answered.
The lifebearer's eyes widened in surprise when he heard the sum, then Cee began to search his pockets frantically. However, he did not pull out a cash card or a cheque like Sheldon had expected, but a handful of crumpled bills. After a moment of feverish counting, his shoulders sagged. "I… I only have a bit under two thousand with me," he admitted softly.
"No problem. You can transfer the rest of the money to my bank account tomorrow." Who on Wyndrah ran around with so much hard cash in their pockets in a part of the city like this, Sheldon wondered.
But Cee shook his head, now looking mortified. "I… I can't. I… don't have a bank account. I'll be getting my monthly allowance in two weeks, then I can pay you the rest. Would… would that be alright?"
No bank account? Monthly allowance? Sheldon was now clearly perplexed, but he tried to hide it. His client was embarrassed enough. "Well, I can make an exception. But why don't you ask your mate to pay me?"
This time, Cee's voice was barely audible. "He doesn't now I'm here. That's why you must be absolutely discreet."
The investigator couldn't believe his ears. He almost blurted out, "What the hell?", but then he managed to get a hold of himself. Ruffling through his hair, he tried to think of a sensible way to answer to that. He finally asked, "So I take it Mr. Holden doesn't put any faith in private investigators?"
"You could say that," Cee whispered. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sheldon. I'm not trying to weasel out of the payment, and I guarantee you your money. But please start to look for my son right away! I can't bear the thought of him being alone and frightened somewhere…"
Sheldon held up a hand. "It's alright. I said yes, and I'm a man of my word. Now all I need is a way to contact you."
Cee got up from the chair, pulling out a piece of paper with a cell phone number on it. "Here. But don't call, just write a short message. No names. If you want to meet with me, simply write the date and time, and I'll come here. If you find Fyn, just write the word 'safe'."
Sheldon took the paper, not bothering to answer. This got stranger and stranger by the minute. "Thanks. No go home and relax," he said with a smile.
The look he got in return was part relieved, part haunted. "I'll try," Cee replied. "Good night, Mr. Sheldon."
The investigator waited until his mysterious client was gone, then he grabbed an empty folder from the shelf to put the picture and the cell phone number inside. Any need to sleep was gone, and Sheldon felt wide awake. The thrill of the hunt was running through him once again.
He started up his computer and used the search engines to find any further information about the Holden family. Of course he'd have to dig deeper than just the internet, but an overview couldn't hurt. Once again, there was no mentioning of Aravin Holden having a mate or a son.
Sheldon took the picture of little Fyn and gazed at it thoughtfully. "I'll find you, little guy", he said softly, but soon his thoughts wandered back to Cee's beautiful, sad eyes. He really wanted to help the young lifebearer. But it was more than that. His intuition told him that a lot more was going on. His mysterious client hadn't told him even half the truth, of that Sheldon was sure.
But he would find out what it was that Cee was hiding. After all, Sheldon wasn't just any investigator. He was the best. And he always solved his cases.
The next morning, Sheldon called his contact at the Valkyrie Falls police department, Henry Everett. Everett was a detective and a long-term friend to Sheldon; over the years, the private investigator had helped out the police here and there and could always rely on Henry to tell him some of the police's internal matters in return.
"Henry, I need some information concerning the Holden kidnapping case," Sheldon said after some inquiring after the detective's family. "As I heard, you guys have no leads?"
"No, unfortunately," Henry grumbled. "It's a nasty case. But how on Wyndrah do you know about this? Aravin Holden wanted no press and absolute confidentiality."
Sheldon smiled. "Let's just say my clients also expect that confidentiality from me. I want to find this kid as much as you do, so let's just work together. If I need any police backup, I'll call. I'm sure as hell won't look for a fight when I'm outmatched."
"Alright," Henry gave in. "What do you know already?" After Sheldon told him, the detective continued, "No fingerprints anywhere, and no footprints since the grass was very dry. Disabling the alarm system was a professional job, so we're not looking for any amateurs. The tranquillizer dart the dog was shot with was a self-made one, not one used at zoos and the like, so that's a dead end, too."
"What about Aravin Holden? How did he took all this?" Sheldon asked.
"I was one of the officers who interviewed him about the circumstances. He was as cool and polite as you please, no emotions at all." Henry paused. "He behaved as if the missing kid wasn't his business at all."
"Really? I thought the little guy is his son? Shouldn't he be worried?" Sheldon furrowed his brows.
"I have no idea, Sheldon. The ones worried at the Sheldon estate were the staff; a housemaid, a butler, and a cook. And Mr. Holden's… lover, for lack of a better term."
"Hold on," the investigator interrupted. "What do you mean?"
He could almost see how Henry shrugged a bit helplessly. "Well, it he were a woman, I'd call him Holden's mistress. He's the little boy's father, that much is clear from the resemblance between him and the child. Poor thing was totally devastated, begging us to find the kid, while Holden was just standing there. You should have seen the look an his face, almost disgusted. He finally shoved his lover out of the room like one would do with a hysteric child and calmly answered the rest of our questions. I got the sneaking suspicion his primary concern was the breach of security in his estate."
Slowly, a picture of what was really going on was forming in Sheldon's mind, and he didn't like it at all. "Do you have the lover's name?"
"Yes, it's Cerise. We were given no last name, which is a bit strange considering that in this country lashran have been using surnames for hundreds of years. But he didn't have a Nandar accent either."
Cerise… a nice name, albeit a strange one, Sheldon decided. "Anything else you can tell me?"
"No, not really. So far there hasn't been a ransom demand although the Holdens could pay this country's debt on their own," Henry answered.
"Thanks. I'll call you when I have any news."
"Same here. Good luck!"
Sheldon put down his phone and started to type the new information in his computer. Aravin Holden's general indifference to his son's disappearance was unsettling and made two conclusions very easy: either Holden somehow knew that his son was in no danger, or the boy wasn't his son at all. Those theories would both make a lot of sense, but either of them would prove Aravin to be a total bastard. And the way he obviously treated his lover wasn't indicating anything different.
But why had Cerise lied to Sheldon, telling him that Aravin Holden was his mate? Was the young lifebearer ashamed of his position as a kept lover? Or was his emotional commitment this deep? Did Aravin promise to bond him someday?
A lot of questions, but Sheldon filed them away for later. Now he wanted to concentrate on another aspect of the kidnapping case: finding out who had been hired to kidnap Fyn. In Valkyrie Falls, there was only a limited number of notorious burglars who could do a job this good, and Sheldon had a contact to one of them – in fact, he had hired those housebreakers a few times himself to locate incriminating evidence for the police to find later.
But first, Sheldon needed another coffee. He had slept only three hours this night, and considering his initial lack of sleep after the last case, he now felt truly weary. He also needed a shower and fresh clothes since he had fallen asleep in his office last night and was still wearing his rumpled suit from the day before. Sheldon decided to go home and freshen up right after he had called his contact.
A velvety voice answered after the third ring. "Sheldon, darling, I haven't heard from you in ages!"
"I had a lot to do, Cat. So the police didn't catch you yet?" Sheldon greeted the female burglar.
Cat laughed. "Me? Never! What can I do for you? Any delicious little files you want found?"
"Not this time. I want to know if any of you guys helped with a kidnapping a week ago."
The woman made a disgusted sound. "Honey, we are artists, veritable ghosts. None of us would stoop so low as to harm anyone, let alone kidnap somebody. We have a code of honor, you see."
Sheldon was somehow relieved to hear that. Although he and Cat stood on opposite sides of the law, he knew that she and her burglar friends were no cold-blooded criminals. "Do you have any idea who could do something like that?" he asked. "A security system was disabled, no clues, nothing. It was the work of a pro."
Cat was silent for a minute. "Sheldon, sweetheart, the only ones I can think of are the guys from organised crime. And they are really dangerous."
Organised crime… Sheldon groaned inwardly. So far he had been able to avoid them, but this time it looked as if he had to deal with them after all. "Any more clues you could give me?" he asked.
"No, darling. And I wouldn't stick my neck out too far if I were you. I don't want to read about your untimely demise in the newspapers," Cat replied. "Be careful, Sheldon, honey."
The investigator thanked her and said goodbye. "Damn," he grumbled to himself. "And I was the one to hope for a challenging case. Seems I've got one."
Sheldon hesitated for a moment, then he picked up his cell phone again and started to type a message to Cee, asking him for a meeting this evening.
Half an hour later Sheldon was at home, had freshened up and was cooking a proper meal. He couldn't think straight on an empty stomach, and there was a lot to think about. The hint concerning organised crime was the biggest problem. If the reason for kidnapping Fyn wasn't money, then it had to be blackmail. Was Aravin Holden somehow involved with the organised crime? Or had an offer been made he had declined? And how much knew Cerise about all this?
The last question would hopefully be answered in a few hours when Sheldon met with the lifebearer again. In the meantime, he would take an extended break and try to think of something different than his case.
But Sheldon was a person with a one-track mind. He couldn't simply distract himself this easily although he tried his best while eating and trying to sleep a bit afterward. He finally gave up after a few hours of dozing off and waking up again and returned to his office.
To his surprise, Cerise was already waiting for him. He stood in the hallway in front of Sheldon's office door, wearing his dark coat and hat again and looking nervous. He visibly jumped when he heard Sheldon's footsteps, but calmed down when he recognized the investigator.
"You're a bit early," Sheldon greeted him. "I hope you haven't been waiting long?"
"No. You're not busy now?" Cerise asked hopefully.
Sheldon took his key out of his pocket and unlocked his office door. "Please come in. And no, I have time for you. Would you like a coffee?"
"No, thank you." Cerise sat down on the chair and took off his hat, absently rubbing at his temple and mussing his hair in the process. "Do you have any news?"
Sheldon made himself a cup of coffee and then sat down behind his desk. In the cold light of the lamp overhead, Cerise looked very pale and had even deeper shadows under his eyes. Obviously he had been sleeping even less than Sheldon himself.
"There are some hints that the organised crime might be responsible for kidnapping Fyn," the investigator began, watching his client closely for his reaction.
He was rewarded with a shocked look. "What?"
"It's still not confirmed, but I'd like to know if Aravin might have been threatened by them. Our you, for that matter."
Cerise shook his head. "I don't think so. That is, I know very little of my mate's business. You're not planning on asking him personally, are you?" he asked in alarm.
"I have connections to the police, and they will do the questioning," Sheldon reassured his client. "Is there any other reason for the kidnapping you could think of?"
"I would have told you if I knew anything," Cerise replied, insecurity in his voice.
Once again Sheldon had the feeling that the pretty lifebearer wasn't telling the whole truth. So he asked his next question. "Concerning Aravin Holden… he isn't Fyn's sire, is he?"
Whatever control Cerise had over his features, it was slipping now. His eyes, wide and bright like tropical lakes, grew even larger in surprise as he put a hand over his mouth. After a moment, he had recovered from his shock. "Of course he is," he answered far too quickly. "What on Wyndrah gave you that strange idea? Aravin's my mate, and of course Fyn is our son!"
Sheldon sighed. "As I said, I have contacts to the police, and they told me your are not Holden's bondmate – at least not in the official sense. And you're not wearing any bonding bracelets. So please stop this nonsense. It's not my place to judge your private life, but I heard that Holden didn't seem to be concerned in the least about Fyn's disappearance. What kind of parent would stay calm in a situation like this?"
Cerise was silent, just rubbing his fingers over his temple again and looking incredibly miserable. Sheldon felt sorry for him, but he had to know the truth.
When the young lifebearer looked at the investigator again, Sheldon saw tears in his eyes.
"You're right," Cerise whispered. "Aravin's not the father. And Forests help me if anyone ever finds out the truth."
Sheldon got up from his office chair and walked around the desk to crouch down next to Cerise. "Can you tell me the whole story from the beginning?" he asked softly. "Nothing of this will ever leave this room, I swear. You can trust me."
To be continued...