Page 14

Story: The Hunter

14

JOAO

I am such a fucking idiot.

When I figured out Stefi’s possible location, I should have picked up the phone and called for backup. Leo Cesari, our enforcer, would have sent me a handpicked team, men and women chosen for their competence and ability to get the job done. They would have surrounded Stefi’s apartment building, guarding every possible exit so my wife wouldn’t be able to get away.

What did I do instead? Acted like a fucking fool, that’s what I did. Eager to see Stefi again, I caught the first available flight to Paris from Zurich. I changed my clothes and brushed my hair, as if I were on a first date, not a dangerous hunt, and then I bounded up the five flights of stairs to her apartment.

About the only thing I didn’t do was buy her flowers.

Stefi loved orchids. Small blooms, big showy ones, purple, pink, and yellow, she adored them all.

Orchids, for fuck’s sake? That’s what you’re thinking about? Stay focused. If you don’t get your shit together, Andrei Sidorov is going to find her before you do.

I watch the train pull away, taking Stefi further away from me, and then, I admit failure and make my way back up to her apartment. Charlotte Bellegarde opens the front door as soon as I knock. “You chased her away,” she says accusingly.

“I didn’t mean to,” I reply, frustrated as hell. “Sorry.”

“She’s not coming back, is she?” she asks, her voice small.

I feel like a total prick. Without meaning to, I’ve turned this young girl’s life upside down. “No,” I admit reluctantly. “I’m sorry. It would be stupid of her to come back here, and she’s better than that. But I’m pretty sure she’ll call.”

“And then you’ll trace my calls, won’t you? You’ll find Stefi that way.”

“No, she’ll call you from a burner phone.”

“Why are you looking for her anyway?”

“Because some very bad people are after her. If they find her before me, they’ll kill her.”

“And you want to keep her safe?” She asks this with the skepticism of someone who’s seen too much of the ugliness of the world to retain illusions about the purity of my motives.

“I do.”

“Why?”

A smile rises unbidden to my lips as I remember a girl with two fat red pigtails and determined eyes. “She saved my life once when I was ten. I owe her.” More memories from the past bombard me, but I make myself focus on the teenager in front of me. “Stefi will make sure the rent on this place is paid for as long as you want to stay, but she can’t risk sending you money.” I pull out my wallet and count out twenty hundred-euro notes. “This should tide you over for a month or two. After that. . .” I scribble a phone number on the back of my business card. “If you need a safe place to stay while you figure out your life, call that number. The woman there will take care of you.”

She makes no move to take the money from me. “How can I trust you?”

“You can’t. You shouldn’t—you don’t know me at all. Trust needs to be earned. You trust Stefi, though, yes? Ask yourself this. If she thought I was a danger to you, would she have left you alone with me?”

“Hmm. Good point.” She takes the notes from me and tucks them in her back pocket. “You and Stefi are married, right?”

Always and forever. “I guess so.”

“What does that mean? Do you have a girlfriend? Are you seeing someone else?”

“No. No girlfriend. No relationship. If you talk to Stefi, would you pass on a message? There’s only been one woman in my life who’s ever mattered. It’s always been her. And if she keeps running from me, she’s going to get herself killed.”

Am I hoping that Charlie will relay my words to my wife? Of course I am. I’m not above using this teenager to advance my cause.

What cause? What exactly are you hoping to do here, Joao?

Twice now, I’ve had Stefi in my grasp. Twice, I’ve been stupid enough to let her go. Finding her for the third time isn’t going to be as easy. Stefi will be on high alert. She won’t go anywhere near this apartment. I can trace the ID she used to rent it, but she’d have burned that one by now. Paris has thousands of hotels. Stefi’s probably already used another fake ID to check into one.

She’s gone underground.

I have no way of finding her again.

Unless. . .

Unless, like me, she can’t stay away from the chat room.

After leaving the apartment, I head straight to the airport. There’s a six p.m. flight to Venice, and I take it. The plane touches down at eight and the moment it does, I immediately log into the chat room.

But Stefi isn’t there; she hasn’t logged in all day.

I get home by eight-thirty. Mimi, who doesn’t like it when I go away, sulks in my bedroom and barely acknowledges my return, so I buy my way back into her good graces with a handful of treats. I shower, then make myself something to eat, staying away from the chat room as long as possible before checking again.

Stefi still hasn’t logged in.

Me

Avoiding me, little fox? Come on, don’t be mad. Don’t you want to know how I found you?

There’s no answer. My message stays unread all night long.