Frankie’s interest perked up. She moved a step forward, her heart pounding suddenly. This was a different issue, she thought. Kids were…precious.
“Children? How old are they? When were they taken? Have you notified the FBI?” she demanded, pulling out her cell phone. She wasn’t one of those private investigators who thought she could solve every problem she came across on her own. Kidnappings were the jurisdiction of the FBI and they were damn good at resolving those cases.
“No, it isn’t like that,” he said, running a bony hand impatiently over his bald head. “My children are…well, I have three sons. They are older. In their thirties.” The man grumbled something under his breath and lifted the glass to his mouth, downing the contents as he turned to look out the window. “I’m dying,” he admitted bitterly. “And I don’t want to leave my money to charities.” This was said with a great deal of disgust, as if leaving his life’s savings to a charity was the equivalent of treason.
So the guy was looking for his kids. Hmmm…not kids. Still, even older offspring might want to get to know their father before he died. “Okay. Are you simply estranged from your kids?”
The man muttered again before answering. “No.” He didn’t say anything and Frankie waited, her curiosity for mysteries kicking in to override her impatience with a wealthy man’s need for control. “My sons are only half-brothers. I had several mistresses over the years. I never found a woman that I cared enough for to marry. But three of the women sent me messages that they’d fallen pregnant.”
Frankie didn’t like where this was going. “And you need…what from me?” Three women? He’d fathered three children and…what? Had he simply ignored the women’s need for child support? Had he ignored his children’s need for a father figure? Not that Edward Meyers seemed like a candidate for father of the year! But still, no man should abandon his offspring! She had no respect for a man who didn’t accept his responsibilities. Especially a man who left a woman to raise a child alone!
Edward Meyers paused and Frankie wasn’t sure if that was for dramatic effect or out of self-condemnation.
He turned and glared at her. “I want you to find them. Track them down and tell them that I will give them their share of my wealth if they will meet with me.”
Okay, so this bastard had three kids out in the world that he probably never supported financially. Now the old man wanted to find the sons so that he could distribute his wealth. She contemplated that for a long moment. It sounded like a worthy cause. Those sons deserved the financial support, especially since they’d obviously gone so long without it.
Making a decision, she nodded sharply, shoving her phone back into her pocket and facing him with a hard glare. She was doing this for the sons. Not for this man.
“Fine. I’ll take the case. My fee is a thousand dollars an hour plus expenses,” she told him, doubling her normal rate simply because she didn’t like him. She’d donate half of her fees to the charities that this man disdained so much. Or maybe she’d give it to the sons. Frankie wasn’t sure. She’d have to see how this played out.
“Fine,” he snapped, not even blinking at the exorbitant figure. “But find them and bring them here to me. I want to meet each of my sons and explain…”
Frankie held up her hand. “First of all, I will only find the men for you. I will give them your contact information, but it will be up to them if they want to contact you.”
His frail body bristled with anger. “No, that’s not going to work for me. You will bring them to me! I want them standing here in my office so that I can decide if they are worthy of…!”
“That’s not going to work for me. You’re going to have to find someone else if that’s what you want.” And she turned on her heel, more than ready to march out the door.
“All right!” the man bellowed. “Just…find my sons! I will not give my money away to some damn charity! Tell my sons that they will get their inheritance if they come to meet with me. I will evaluate each one to determine which is worthy of running my empire.” He nodded, a self-satisfied, frail bastard who was dying from cancer, but still thought he could control other people’s lives.
Frankie shifted on her feet. “I’ll give them your contact information. And let them know that there is a business that needs to be run. But other than that, I’d rather not tear up a person’s life just so that you can avoid…”
He grabbed his chair, hoisting himself to his feet so that he could lean forward and glare at her. “I’m talking about an inheritance worth more than two hundred million dollars, young lady! I run a corporation that employs ten thousand workers! I must interview my sons to determine which of them has the capacity to run my business.”
Frankie just barely kept herself from rolling her eyes. “Do you have any starting point? Any ideas on where, or even who, your sons are?” she asked, wondering if she was making a huge mistake by taking on this job. Perhaps she was. If she decided that she couldn’t stand working for this jerk, then she’d just tell the guy to find someone else and give him whatever information she’d gathered to date. That was the beauty of her job. Her reputation was strong enough that she could pick and choose her projects.
“I have the letters from the women that claimed I fathered children in that box,” he said, nodding towards the coffee table. On top of the table was an old shoebox.
“This is
