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Zanifa was speaking rapidly, her English deteriorating in her anxiety. “Two men arrived. Ten minutes ago. They are detectives from Queenie. They tracked the phone of Rhys, but he, he was not there. The phone, it was on a table, sitting there.” She threw up her hands in anguish. “Why would he do this? Why would he leave his phone? He loves it, this phone!”
He’d leave it if he knew it could track him,Corbin thought. Suspicions began to form in his mind.
Zanifa dug in her pocket and held out another object. “And his camera, this one, the one he wears on his shirt. Here it is, and there is no light blinking. So it is off, no?”
That made things clearer. Rhys had slipped away voluntarily, or was forced to abandon his tech. Either way, someone knew he was electronically tagged. It was also why Queenie’s people couldn’t see Rhys moving around the property.
“Where are they?” Melanie demanded. “The detectives?”
Zanifa pointed vaguely in the direction of the main buildings. “One, he is there in the control room with the chief of security. They are watching the park with cameras. The other, he is walking around—”
“And we join them,” Corbin said firmly. “You have a map of the grounds on your phone?”
Zanifa nodded.
Corbin pulled up a map and pointed. “You go there. Melanie and I, we will head in the opposite direction. Think hard about anything you two have studied recently. Any animal, any plant, and head there. Okay?”
By rights, it would have been more logical for him and Melanie to split up further, but logic had no place here. He knew that if he wasn’t there for her, she’d slip even deeper into panic. So as Zanifa hurried off, hastily righting her scarf and repining it, Corbin took Melanie’s hand and began to walk.
It wasn’t a huge park, but it was summer, and so it was fairly crowded with happy families bustling here and there. He hated the fact that he was growing irritated with all the laughter and activity, not just because it made it harder to move and to look for Rhys, but because all these people seemed oblivious to the potential for tragedy that was unfurling right now.
He was expecting to begin walking aimlessly, up and down the paths, keeping an eye out until they spotted something, but to his surprise, Melanie grabbed his hand more tightly and began to run. There was nothing to do but keep up. “What—?” he began.
“Dolphins,” she answered breathlessly, without slowing down or glancing at him. “He loves dolphins!”
They raced towards a large enclosure, from which cheers and whoops rose, and the scent of water filled the air. Instinctively, he understood. Half the time, the kid was wearing something with a dolphin on it: a t-shirt, a baseball cap, even his socks. If there was any animal here that Rhys would gravitate to, it would be a dolphin. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
The moment they got inside, Melanie began to twist and turn, peering into the crowd, which was comprised mostly of excited kids hopped up on sugar and sodas.
It was he who spotted Rhys first. The boy was all the way down in the front row, practically in the splash zone. And though the kids around him were on their feet and cheering, he was sitting ramrod straight, immobile. Was he scared, Corbin wondered, or fascinated?
It didn’t matter, because next to him Corbin could see a short, reedy man with thinning blond hair and large ears, who sat close to Rhys and had a grip on his shoulder.
Corbin heard Melanie’s yelp of recognition, and man and boy turned in the direction of the sound. Both froze.
Then Rhys stood, his gaze locked on his mother’s face as if trying to assess how much trouble he was in. He dipped his head guiltily, and his eyes slid away.
But Corbin’s attention was focused on the man: weak-chinned, sallow, with pale blue eyes and a sullen, defiant expression. When he realized Corbin was there, he seemed to recognize him, and his fists balled belligerently. He stood too, seemed to be squaring his narrow shoulders, setting one foot backwards in a defensive fighting stance. Like a beta lion knowing that the alpha was near—bigger, stronger, better—but ready to rumble anyway.
And Corbin didn’t need an invitation. There was enough adrenaline coursing through his veins to make him almost drunk, and enough smoke rising inside his head to start a small fire. He detested the man instantly; no need to know more about him, or to be bored with a list of his good points. It all boiled down to one male animal challenging another.
He accepted. Allons-y, he thought. C’est en marche! Without even being consciously aware that he was doing it, he had leaped over the row of chairs separating him from the scrawny little andouille and had him by the collar. The sheer mass of Corbin’s body, and the force of the attack, were enough to send his opponent stumbling backwards.
Bon,Corbin thought, and began swinging. The smack-smack-smack of his fists on the sallow face felt good. Very good. And it didn’t surprise him in the least that the weaselly little man could barely defend himself. His responding blows were weak and easily dodged… but what did you expect from a man who built himself up by intimidating women and children?
All around them, people were scattering, and he could sense rather than see that two uniformed security guards were approaching. He heard Melanie shouting, and felt her hands on his bicep, hanging on with all her weight to prevent him from landing another blow, but his fuzzed brain couldn’t understand why. This man deserved it. Couldn’t she see he deserved it?
But it was a sharp cry that finally got him to stop, the sound of a wounded animal keening. Rhys threw himself upon his father, tried to get in front of him, and to Corbin’s utter shock and shame he understood that Rhys was trying to take the next blow.
Aghast, he let his hand fall to his side.
The man stood back, sneering, grinning with the bravado that weak men had only when they knew there was no chance of repercussions. And Corbin noticed that he had no compunction about sidling farther behind his young son, using him as a human shield.
What happened in the next two minutes was a blur. Two officers got a grip on Corbin, one on each side, and were barking into their comms. Melanie had Rhys in her arms, stroking his hair as he sobbed.
From what Corbin could gather from the one-sided conversation, they were reporting that that the missing boy had been found, but also that one patron had attacked another. What did Control want them to do with the perpetrator?
The show had also been stopped until the commotion could be cleared up, so the other patrons were glaring at them, clearly miffed by the interruption.
