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Chapter 12

Mike’s first reaction wasn’t anger or fear but total disbelief. Everything slowed to a syrupy crawl – Dodge’s hand, still open from the release; William’s mouth bunching around the sunflower seeds with convalescent imprecision; Kat’s polar bear rocking ever so slightly on the parking-lot asphalt, one furry arm gone sleek and dark from an oil puddle. It was surreal – disorienting, even – to see that animal in this context.

Mike’s mind spun, cogs clattering, searching for purchase. The implications about how the polar bear had gotten here seemed too large for him to process.

‘Where’d you get that?’ he asked.

William, closest to him, said, ‘Found it.’ He popped a sly grin. ‘It is Katherine’s?’

Hearing his daughter’s full name emerge from William’s lips jogged something loose. The gears meshed. The scene – and Mike’s thoughts – lurched back into motion at full speed. The voice through the monitor. Kat’s autolocking window. These men, in his daughter’s room?

His blood thrummed like a well-plucked string. His vision went impossibly sharp, then blurred as he lunged, driving his forehead into William’s face. Bone clashed. William’s breath left in a huff, intermingling with Mike’s, their eyes inches away for a frozen instant, Mike catching a close-up of one brown pupil rolling obscenely in shock and pain.

William reeled back, howling, Mike feeling the man’s sweat across his own forehead. There was something so primitive about a headbutt, using your own face as a weapon. The street move, Shep’s favored ambush, left Mike breathless and transported, suspended somewhere closer to Shady Lane than to the Braemar Country Club.

Dodge regarded him with level interest, a cat tracking a canary.

William was rolling on the ground, clutching at his cheek, crying out, ‘Did you see? He hit me! This man hit me!’

Guests from the ceremony paused to gawk. Heads pivoted above car roofs. A few people stayed frozen at a ten-yard standoff, looking on, contemplating what the hell to do. William’s bad leg scraped the asphalt stiffly.

Dodge’s lips parted to show the thinnest sliver of teeth, but on him it seemed a massive display of kinetics.

Mike squared to meet him head on.

Somewhere he registered Kat screaming from the backseat of the truck. The sound broke through the muted rush of white noise pervading his head, knocking him back to the present. He halted, searching for restraint, breathing so hard his shoulders rose and fell with the effort.

Annabel was shouting for him to get into the truck, and he thought of her and Kat behind him, watching through the movie screen of the windshield. Everything he stood to lose seemed summed up in the countless glares pointed in his direction, all those well-dressed folks who’d watched him knock down a cripple.

Mike backpedaled to the truck, a few brave souls rushing in to aid William.

Dodge’s gaze never faltered from his. ‘Soon,’ he said, the word sending a line of fire up Mike’s spine.

Mike got into the truck, turned over the engine. A scrum of people now surrounded the two men, illuminated in the headlight glare. William, holding his face, was helped to his feet, but then his leg faltered and he collapsed again. Several women shot mortified glances at Mike.

Annabel asked, quietly, ‘What just happened?’

Mike said, ‘I don’t know.’

Throwing an arm over the seat back, he reversed out of the space. Kat lay curled up in the backseat, her cheeks glittering. The cluster of people dissipated as Mike pulled away, keeping his stare fastened on the rearview mirror.

In the red light of the brakes, William stayed down, twisted over his limp legs. At his side, Dodge stood inhumanly tall, head tilted, his insensate eyes watching them drive off.