3. Silas

SILAS

"Missing wife, huh?" I eye the guy, Henry, across the table. He"s sweating under his starched collar, his gaze darting around the diner like he expects to be ambushed by a plate of overcooked eggs. He doesn"t smell like grief, though. He smells like obsession and lies, and the scent makes my wolf growl low in my chest.

"Two weeks," he says, his voice cracking. "She just…disappeared. No note, no call, nothing."

Kade lets out a low whistle. "That"s rough, man. Tracker here"s the best there is, though. He"ll find her. For a price, of course."

I shoot Kade a look that could freeze whiskey—I don't even know if I want to help this guy, and he's just gone and offered my services like it's sure thing. But the asshole just grins at me, all innocence and mocking amusement. I turn my attention back to Henry, who is now wringing his hands anxiously.

"Of course," he says, his voice a broken whisper. "Money"s not a problem. I just want her back."

I cross my arms over my chest. "We"ll need details," I say, fixing him with a stern gaze. "Everything you know. Name, age, description. Last known whereabouts. Any reason she might have run? And don"t try to sugarcoat or hide anything. It won"t do you any good."

"Mika," Henry practically spits out the name, his facade of distress slipping for a moment to reveal the anger simmering beneath. "She"s twenty-eight, short but curvy—a big woman. But beautiful. Long blonde hair, blue eyes… She was last seen at her. I mean, our house in Bozeman, Montana. No good reason to run that I know of."

I raise an eyebrow at that—women don"t just vanish into thin air without a good reason. But I keep my trap shut, listening as he continues to tell me about her. But something about the way he said ‘her' and then ‘our house' that's making my wolf"s hackles rise. His story doesn"t sit right with me.

"…I mean, I work night and day to make sure she's well looked after and wants for nothing."

"Yeah, doubt that's the problem, pal," I mutter, more to myself than anyone else. But Kade hears me and laughs, his chuckle cutting across the conversational tension like a knife.

I ignore him and continue my interrogation. "Who was the last person to see her? Any witnesses or suspicions?"

"No, I... I was the last to see her. She didn"t seem... she was just normal." His voice is shakier now, and the sweat on his brow is practically rolling down his face.

"Uh-huh," I say, raking my ringed fingers through my beard as I watch him sweat and stammer. "Got any pictures?"

"Of course," Henry stammers, opening his jacket and pulling out a mustard-colored envelope. He hands it over and inside I find a bunch of photos of the woman he's described. But they're taken at a distance like they came from a private investigator or something. I slide them over to Kade, who's eyebrows lift as he studies them.

"Got any with the two of you together?" I ask, looking back up at Henry.

He gulps audibly and shakes his head. "No, I... we weren"t... she didn"t like being photographed. She was shy."

"What about your wedding pictures?"

"Wedding pictures?" he echoes, his face paling further. "We...uh...we didn"t have a traditional wedding. A registry office, just the two of us. No photos."

I exchange a glance with Kade, whose eyes are narrowed even more now.

"Uh-huh," I drawl, not buying it for a second. "And you said she was last seen at your house in Bozeman?"

"Yes, that"s right." He nods vigorously, like a bobblehead on a bumpy road.

I again glance at Kade, who gives me a subtle shrug. "All right, Henry. Give me your contact info. I take half of my fee upfront."

He perks up at that. "So you'll do it? You'll find her?"

"I"ll start looking into it," I say, taking the business card he practically throws at me. I tell him my fee—double what I'd normally quote—and he doesn't even blink before transferring it over. Maybe this guy has more money than sense. Or maybe he"s just that desperate.

As Henry leaves the diner, I let out a low sigh. "What do you think, Kade? Is this guy for real?"

Kade chuckles, shaking his head. "Real as a three-dollar bill, brother. But a job"s a job, right?"

I nod, tapping the table thoughtfully as I study the photos Henry left. There's one of Mika laughing as she sits across from another woman at a coffee shop, and just looking at her makes my wolf stir in a way he hasn't in years. "Maybe. But something tells me this one"s gonna be more trouble than it"s worth."