Erik’s easy laughter makes me smile.
“How did you get into doing all of this?” I ask.
“As you can imagine, Charlie was active in recovery. Someone from his group went missing. Charlie knew the guy pretty well and thought he might have luck finding him if he tracked down the guy’s dealer. Since the dealer was in a bad neighborhood, I wouldn’t let him go alone. Things got a little hairy, but Charlie was pretty well trained, and I did okay for myself. So, we got his friend out of there and asked him where we should take him. He gave us his parents’ address on Park Avenue.”
I whistle under my breath. “Damn, that’s some high-dollar real estate.”
Erik dips his chin. “The family was so grateful for our work that they gave Charlie and me a reward. It was essentially our first paycheck for doing that type of private bounty hunting. As it happens, rich people have troubled kids just like everyone else. Even if it’s not a child, it’s not unusual to go after someone in their organization who absconds with intellectual property. We got several customers from that first family. Pretty soon, we were known in the wealthier circles as the people to go to when someone had gotten themselves into trouble.”
“That’s when you discovered how many rich people are plain awful.”
Erik nods. “Money doesn’t corrupt you. It reveals you. Which led us to running parallel operations. Get the money for the bounty, and if we discovered the client was involved in something terrible, like trafficking, we’d find the people and help them to get out.”
“I don’t know anyone who would’ve done that,” I point out.
“Well, what would you do? The first time we broke into a warehouse full of young kids, we knew we couldn’t leave them there. Even if we didn’t know what we were doing.”
“What did you do?”
“That first time, we just shoved them into the van and brought all of them with us. We had at least a dozen kids in our little one-bedroom apartment. I called Odd and Anders because they were active-duty Navy SEALs then, and I figured they would know what to do.”
“Did they?”
“Not really, but Odd trusted his commander, and his commander helped us out under the table.”
“Damn, that was lucky.”
“It was. Fun fact: that commander is now Odd’s husband.”
“DB?”
“Yes.”
“Small world.”
“Very. Afterward, we reached out to different organizations. Turns out some of them were willing to look the other way, even if our manner of finding the kids didn’t exactly follow the letter of the law. Many had been trying for years to get the authorities to do something, and they were grateful to find a small team willing to do the dangerous part.”
“Yeah, the cops don’t give a shit about us.”
Erik tilts his head. “You’d be surprised at how many agenciesdowant to help but can’t go into places without the proper warrant.”
I snort. “You and Charlie didn’t give a shit about warrants, did you?”
“Not one cold shit,” he answers with a grin. “We did most of it on our own, but sometimes the people we helped would help us while they got back on their feet.”
“You know, one of the worst things about the life was feeling like nobody in the world knew where I was. Nobody was looking for me. Nobody cared. I was just lost in the system.”
“Of course people were looking for you, and people did care, but the traffickers work very hard to make you think otherwise,” he says wisely.
I sometimes wonder if he’s seen things that are worse than what I went through. I don’t think I’m ready to ask that question though.
“Look, I’m sorry your family was like that, but I’m grateful—you have no ideahowgrateful—you didn’t stay in Norway. Your decision to build a better life here saved my life and a whole bunch of other lives, so thank you.”
Emotion clouds my voice as I say the last part, confirming how much I really mean it. I’d been mad at him for months for not seeing me as an adult, but maybe I’d forgotten all the decisions they’d made to put them right where I needed them.
“So, uh, Miami,” Erik says, changing the subject. “He should be a simple one. Want to take him out, check him off the list before we hit the hotel?”
“Sure.”
