Dream Park

As he walked toward them, the blare of the music receded to a dull throb in his ears.

He stood directly behind Acacia, and Ollie's eyes flickered up to meet his as Griffin laid a large warm hand on her shoulder.

Without turning, she said 'Hello, Alex.' He lit up inside, the weariness vanquished by the magic of her voice.

He sat next to her, understanding who the space was really for. She turned slowly until her soft brown eyes scanned his face, and the edges of her mouth tugged up.

'You know,' he said, as honestly as he could, 'I've wanted you to say my name for a long time.'

Her answer was a meld of warmth and reserve. Only the dark rings under her eyes betrayed a lack of sleep. 'I wish that I'd known it.' And she waited: a silent question- Griffin shook his head. 'I can't say, Cas. II it's Tony's first offense-'

'It is.'

'And he continues to cooperate, and if a reasonable doubt ex­ists as to the degree of maliciousness or premeditation...' He heard the whistle of air wind its way from his lungs, and felt old. 'Maybe ten years. I don't really know.'

She was outraged. 'And you can't help?'

'Acacia...' Jesus. How to say it? 'I like Tony. I don't have anything against him at all. But he planned to steal something worth millions. In the process he was guilty of assault and battery to say the very least. If the Park and the State should want to drop him into a hole and pave over the top-why should I say no?'

If a fire in her head had been stoked with gasoline, her eyes couldn't have blazed hotter. He cut off her outburst.

'Acacia. To you, this is someplace you visit once or twice a year, filled with people whose names you never know working overtime to provide your thrills. Now, I'm not blaming you. If I were you I'd probably think the same way about this. For us it's-'

'It isn't fair, Alex! He didn't mean to kill anyone. Tony would never do that.' Desperation seeped into her voice. 'I thought I knew him. Dammit, I do know him. I'm sure he checked that guard's breathing before he left him. Alex, I know hhn.'

'Tell it to the coroner. Tell it to Rice, for that matter.' Alex fought to keep irritation from his voice. This wasn't what he wanted to talk about, or what he wanted to say. Maybe he should just leave. .

But Gwen reached across and touched Acacia's shoulder, and her budding anger melted.

'All right. It was all his fault.'

There was a hollowness in the air that Alex wanted to fill with something. Words... touches.

But he sat there next to her, almost touching but not quite, until Ollie tugged at Gwen's hand. 'Come on, hon,' he said, 'I think we should go count some sheep. These two need to talk. Acacia- breakfast tomorrow?'

'You know it. Goodnight, Gwen.'

'Good Game, Griffin.' Gwen hugged Acacia goodnight.

Acacia watched the two of them leave. 'You should have seen the reunion.'

'Ollie and Gwen?'

'Yes. It was weird. Ollie seemed scared to touch her at first. She had to grab and kiss him before he could move.'

They both laughed, and both knew it was only postponing the inevitable. When the chuckle died they said nothing, then Griffin's hand stole over to find hers. She squeezed it weakly.

'Leaving tomorrow, Cas?'

She smoothed her hair back with her free hand. 'That's what the ticket says.'

'Then I guess that's it. Nice knowing you. I mean, really.'

She clenched her teeth and bored into the rug with her eyes. 'I wish I could say the same thing.'

Alex felt her hand cool, and withdrew before she could break contact. 'It's down to that then?'

'Don't misunderstand me. You're fascinating, Griffin. And sexy as hell. And a little frightening. Did you seriously come in here to put the make on me after sending my boyfriend up for ten years?'

That was that. The air clouded with frost. Oh, for a word, a clever line. It's just the neutral scent talking, babe, don't flatter yourself.

'I was invited,' he said, and stood up.

'Griffin,' she called up to him, her eyes impossibly wide. 'There was an accomplice, wasn't there? An inside man? Suppose Tony was set up. What if they did get away with whatever it was that they wanted? Suppose Tony was just a patsy, and while you prosecute him, the big people are all getting away?'

Alex's expression didn't change. 'The fantasy is over, Acacia. Tony played the wrong game in the wrong place, and he's going to

have to pay for it.' Damn, you just can't say anything without being Mr. Griffin, can you? Then the only words that mattered bobbed up in his mind like letters in a bowl of alphabet soup. 'I'm just sorry we had to meet like this,' he said.

She was silent, but the air was just a shade warmer, and he knew she had believed. And then, all that could be said having been said, he left.

Griffin felt his weight settle into his mattress, a two-hundred-pound deadweight of human being.

The temperature in his bedroom was seventy degrees and he didn't bother pulling the sheets up over his body.

He watched the sleep pattern dancing in the air in front of his eyes, soothing pastel freeforms that pulsed and bobbed at eighteen beats per minute.

Here, the distant gurgle of his living room aquarium and his low steady breathing were the only sounds. Here, away from the babble outside, he could listen to his body, feel the bruises and hurts, the places where he felt good, the clean spot in his mind that would fill in with work.

Here he was free to let his control go, and sleep.

And he couldn't sleep. Not at all.

His job was done. There was nothing he could do, should want to do, about Acacia. Tomorrow he would wrap up his report with Harmony, be de-briefed, and that would pretty well end his per­sonal involvement.

Rest. For days he had thought of nothing that would make him happier. And now, with the sleep-pattern snaking in front of his eyes, the warm air circulating around his naked body, nothing seemed further away.

Murder in Dream Park. God, what a nightmare. Could it have been an accident, despite what Novotney said? Doctors weren't omniscient... Could Tony be a consummate liar, despite every­thing Griffin thought he had seen in him? The Griffin wasn't om­niscient either... Or had he been set up?

Suppose, just suppose, Rice was the inside man? What a grim joke that would be. Rice was in a good position to commit the burglary. Suppose Rice handed the notes and neutral scent to Tony, then allowed Tony to tie him up... both following in­structions... wrap him up like a Christmas present so that a

third accomplice, unsuspected by either, could shut Rice's mouth by pinching his nose shut.

Griffin shook his head. It was the kind of thought you could only have about a man you disliked. It irked him to admit that he had never warmed to Rice. But then, Rice had never given Griffin much chance to warm to him. Distant. Polite, but cold. Capable of that total indifference even toward the man to whom he owed his job.

Alex squinted in the darkness, following a disturbing train of thought. If Rice was the true thief, still, why should he be killed? If he knew too much... but why should he have been told any more than Tony? No, that wasn't it.

Because Rice was in the wrong place at the wrong time, then. What did he see? What did he know... ?

Griffy, you're definitely detective material.