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I resisted the urge to shudder. Dan wouldn’t shudder. No, she’d break out the snacks and stay up late for a rhino-watching party. And as for Emmy, she’d saddle up the beast and ride it into battle. When I get home, please give me a nice, easy corporate fraud case. Something that didn’t involve claws, horns, or teeth.
“You think we’ll see any rhinos?” Collier asked.
“Yes, yes, lots of rhinos. Your first game drive will start in one hour, and then we’ll have dinner.”
Dinner. I couldn’t wait.
Probably I should have been more excited by the prospect of seeing an endangered species up close, but what I felt was guilt. Guilt that Kaylin La Rocca was facing a trial and possibly prison while I relaxed in a vacation destination. Unlike most of my fellow guests, who were chattering excitedly about rhinos by a trio of parked jeeps, I could hardly wait until dinner, and not because of the traditional local cuisine. No, I was just happy that meals were communal. If Alain Thibault was in Mkhaya, we’d see him over platters of grilled meat, cornbread, and sweet potato.
Assuming I survived any encounters with the local inhabitants, anyway.
“Are the rhinos friendly?”
“The white rhinos, yes. You can climb out of the Land Rover and take pictures.”
“What about the black rhinos?”
The guide waggled his head from side to side. What did that mean?
“Not so much.”
“What happens if one heads in our direction?”
“You should climb the nearest tree.”
“Is that a joke?” I asked Collier as the guy moved on to speak with another guest. “It’s a joke, right?”
“It is half a joke.” The voice came from behind us, the accent unmistakably French. A jolt of excitement ran through me. “The black rhinos are not safe, but the guides won’t put you in any danger.”
I turned. Alain Thibault was handsome in a wild way, his skin tanned dark, sun-bleached hair curling around his shoulders. His cargo pants and faded blue T-shirt had seen better days, but the camera around his neck was top of the line. He offered a hand.
“I am Al. I’ll be joining you on your game drive.”
“Hallie, and this is Collier.”
“You’re here on vacation?” The question was a formality. He thought he already knew the answer, and he glanced at my hand. “You’re not the couple on their honeymoon?”
I had two options—either I could go softly-softly, tell a small fib and come clean later, or I could be open with our reason for travelling halfway around the freaking world. Instinct told me Thibault would appreciate the second approach. His blog focused on people’s stories, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
“Actually, we came to see you.”
“To see me?” He seemed surprised but not horrified. More curious. I took that as a good sign.
“Sorry to show up unannounced. I tried sending a message, but…”
“I am bad at replying. I know this. My last assistant quit while I was trekking through Cambodia, and I haven’t found a new one yet.” He shrugged, apologetic. “My agent tells me I should rearrange my priorities. Is it about photographs?”
“It’s about a crime.”
Thibault held up both hands and took a step back. “What I did was a service to the environment. If you want the real criminals, you should be looking at the logging company. Deforestation destroys habitats, creates pollution, and ruins the planet for the next generation.”
“Uh, I don’t know anything about any logging.”
“This isn’t about the trucks?”
“No, no, no. This is about the time you spent in Virginia.”
“Virginia? The United States? That was years ago.”
