"Axel Slade. Richard Alderman gave me your number."
There's a pause, then his tone shifts slightly. "Slade, huh? What can I do for you at this hour?"
I glance up at Sadie's window one last time, the light still burning behind the curtains. I can almost picture her inside, holding Poppy close, terrified of shadows.
"I need information on someone," I say, my resolve hardening. "As quickly as possible."
"That costs extra," Reeves says matter-of-factly.
"Money's not an issue."
He chuckles, a dry sound without humor. "It never is with you Slades. What's the name?"
"Elliot." I realize with a flush of embarrassment that I don't even know his last name. "I don't have his surname yet, but he's from Oregon. Finance industry. Recently arrived in Virginia Dale, Colorado."
"Not much to go on," Reeves observes.
"I'll have more tomorrow. His vehicle is a black sedan, late model. Probably luxury. I can get the plate number if needed."
"That would help. What exactly are you looking for?"
I grip the phone tighter, staring at Sadie's apartment window where the light still burns.
"Everything. I need his full identity, financial status, criminal history if any. I need to know where he's staying while he's in Colorado, who he's working with—and most importantly, I need leverage."
"Leverage," Reeves repeats, the word hanging between us. "That's a loaded term."
"I'm not asking you to break the law," I clarify, though part of me doesn't care if he does.
"I need information that can be used to neutralize him in a custody battle. He's threatening to take a child from her mother using manipulated evidence and intimidation."
"I see." His voice loses some of its edge. "Child cases are different. I don't work for abusers or kidnappers."
"Good—because I'm trying to stop one." I run a hand through my hair, exhaustion suddenly hitting me. "This guy is dangerous. Not with his fists, but with his mind. He's calculated, manipulative. He's been stalking them, taking photos. He's threatening criminal charges to force compliance."
"Sounds like a real prince," Reeves mutters. "Alright, I'm in. But I need more details. The woman's name, the child, any legal paperwork you can get your hands on."
I hesitate. Giving him Sadie's name feels like another betrayal. But what choice do I have?
"Sadie Calloway," I finally say. "Her daughter is Poppy, fourteen months old. There's a custody hearing scheduled in Oregon next week. And apparently a restraining order, though I just found out about that tonight."
"Restraining order is good," Reeves says, suddenly sounding more interested. "That means there's a paper trail. Courts don't issue those without cause."
Hope flickers in my chest. "So you can use that?"
"Maybe. Depends on the grounds. I'll need the case number."
"I'll get it," I promise, already planning how. Rowan might help me, even if Sadie won't.
"What else can you tell me about this Elliot character? Physical description? Any known associates?"
I describe Elliot as accurately as I can, mid-thirties, around six feet tall, dark hair, lean build, expensive taste.
"He carries himself like old money," I add. "Confident. Entitled. The kind of guy who's used to getting what he wants."
"And the woman, Sadie, what's her connection to him exactly?"
"She says they were married," I reply, the word still stinging. "But she tried to file for divorce and he wouldn't sign. She ran when she was pregnant. He claims he's Poppy's biological father."
