“What are you doing?” I say softly, not wanting to interrupt him but needing to know the steps involved.
“The U.N. Population Fund is maintaining a database of the addresses associated with the areas of destruction. They’re doing a pretty remarkable job.” He glances at me with the admiration of a true tech geek. “I can cross reference it with the refugees registered to each camp, and from there I can see if we find a match in any of the other camps.”
“You’re searching by name?”
“Names can lead to addresses, to telephone records. Those are the jackpot. From there you can create an entire network of contacts.”
My eyes widen. “That’s incredible.”
He does a little laugh. “Now who’s turning into a geek?”
“It’s hard not to be impressed by this.” I glance down at the next photograph. Suad Hadid is only four. She has the same dark hair but with brilliant green eyes.
“Here… I’ve found a family of Kurdis in Sweden. It’s possible they’re relatives?”
“Is it a common name?”
“I don’t know.” Freddie’s voice is thoughtful, and he makes two more clicks. “We can contact the administrators in Stockholm and ask if they’ve reported a missing child.”
My chest hurts. “I can’t imagine losing a child in a situation like that.”
His lips tighten, and he makes two clicks. The printer comes to life, and a sheet prints out with a list of several names and numbers. Taking it, he holds it, running his finger across the columns of names and numbers.
“These are the Kurdis and their location in Sweden. This is the director of the camp there. This is the local Red Cross and the UNPF.”
I take the sheet and slip it into the manila folder. I’ll take it back to my small staff helping me place these lost children.
When I became queen regent, Rowan had almost reluctantly told me a huge part of my position is charity work. He had no idea what a relief it is, since I’m not qualified to do anything else. I never went to college. Zelda and I survived almost seven years on the money from her casino cons and my petty thefts. Monagasco is so small and wealthy, we don’t actually have a lot of charity work, so finding these children and reuniting them with loved ones has been amazing. It’s almost like therapy.
“Now walk me through what you just did. This is Suad Hadid. She was also in the group from Thessaloniki.”
It takes several minutes of Freddie sitting beside me, pointing and explaining, but soon I’m clicking with confidence. Hadid actually is a common name, but we’ve found a husband and wife who washed up in a rubber raft from Turkey, both dead.
“Oh, Freddie,” I whisper, blinking back tears.
Concern lines his face. “Are you sure you want to do this? Some of the photographs are pretty gruesome.”
It makes me smile how protective these men are of me. If only they knew.
“Thank you.” I reach out and touch his hand. “It’s important to me to help these children.”
He moves the mouse, and we print out a slightly longer list for Suad. “If you feel confident, I’ll leave you alone to continue.”
My heart jumps. “Yes… I mean, you don’t have to sit with me. I can do this.” I actually need the alone time to do my own, personal research.
“I’m not far if you get stuck.” He smiles, and I look up and smile back. Then he almost seems embarrassed.
It makes me frown. “What?”
“I just wanted to say… I don’t mean to sound condescending, but I’m proud of what you’re doing here. We all are. You make us look good.”
My smile grows wider. “Were you afraid I would embarrass everybody?”
“No!” Now he looks startled, and I laugh for real. “Of course not. I… I only meant—”
“Freddie.” I touch his arm. “Thank you. And you’re right. I had no idea what the hell I was doing when I came here. I’m glad I found something suited to me.”
He does another little bow and leaves a bit too quickly. I turn to the computer again. We have a total of ten refugee children. All their names are in my folder, and behind them is the index card. I look up at the open door and decide I’d better act quickly. Rising from the chair, I hustle over to close it.