Spying the blue ’65 mustang parked nearby, he decided the person who lived there couldn’t be all bad. He admired the convertible, noting the pristine condition as he stepped up onto the porch. He knocked with reserved energy, clutching the photo of the little boy in his hand. He was very curious as to how all these people related to each other.

Taia Kwan made her way slowly toward the parking lot. The clown who had bumped into her back as she watched her child and Dingo disappear, had left a reminder. His blade had found its way through the soft flesh of her flank, not too deep to hit a vital organ but deep enough to incapacitate her. She had bought a light jacket at the Main street gift shop, covering her upper torso and the blood. With so many people in Disneyland, no one noticed the small, slow moving woman who grimaced as she walked.
 
 

"Daisy Duck…" she said, through clenched teeth to the train operator as she got on with a small cry. He noticed how ashen she appeared but many more people were standing in line to get on and her face was lost in the crowd.
 
 

Carefully, she watched until everyone had gotten inside their cars and walked around the lot in a 360 degree radius with Dingo’s BMW as the center. Assured that no one was waiting for her, she haltingly took her time getting to the car.
 
 

"Oh God…" she said, grunting as she touched her wound, feeling the blood saturated through the jacket. She fumbled with her purse, Bastion’s knapsack still in her hands as well. She knew she had a spare key for the car but she felt like she was moving in slow motion.
 
 

Finally, her fingers grasped the key and she opened the driver’s door, getting inside with a cry of pain as her teeth chattered.
 
 

"Taia!" the voice came from behind her, the back seat and she turned in a flash, forgetting the pain and only the training that had kept her alive so far. She raised her arm, her fist tightened as she started to deliver the blow to the throat of the assailant.
 
 

"Dingo?" she cried out, her fist stopping within an inch of his Adam’s apple as his eyes widened. He swallowed hard and groaned as she sighed, the pain in her flank suddenly rebounding in realized waves of agony.
 
 

"I’ve been cut," she swallowed, and then realized that Bastion wasn’t with him, "where’s Bastion?" She turned over slowly, kneeling in the front seat as she realized that Dingo was hurt as well.
 
 

"Someone gave me a stinger in the boat, inside the cave. Next thing I knew, I was out of the boat, in the water…I couldn’t catch up to the boat and ended up getting tossed about by all the turbulence from all those bloody rides. At least the water was fairly warm. I found the exit door near one of those animated pirate parties and made my way out through a series of employee tunnels. I figured someone might still be following me so I went for some distance. I ended up near the main gate, and figured I would go to the car, that you would have picked up Bastion and headed back, seeing I was gone."
 
 

"He must have him…!" she cried out, putting her hand to her mouth as tears began to flow, her face mirroring Dingo’s distraught expression.
 
 

"Oh sweetie, I’m sorry!" he replied, taking her hand as she trembled. His own pain was nothing now as he looked at her, realizing that what she had always feared had finally come true.
 
 

"Come on, we need to get out of here…I need to make some calls. We’ll get some medical attention, eh? Don’t worry! We’ll find him, we’re going to get him back, I swear!" Dingo told her, his breath coming in short, painful gasps.

Rollie answered the door. He stood face to face with the police captain who had released Angie and him, barely 48 hours before.
 
 

"Captain Eisley?" Rollie asked, as Angie jumped up from the sofa in Lucinda’s living room and joined Rollie at the door.
 
 

"May I come in?" the Captain asked, frowning slightly.
 
 

"S- sure…" Rollie replied, confused and slightly mystified.
 
 

Eisley came in, as Angie took a seat again, Rollie joining her as Eisley stood in front of them, preferring to stand even when offered a seat.
 
 

"This picture came across the net tonight, a missing child report and your name and picture attached to the child’s video picture…"
 
 

"Aidan!" Angie cried out, her mother’s heart in a panic as she sprang to conclusions and jumped up. Rollie sat, stunned but took the picture that the Captain offered and held his breath suddenly.
 
 

"No, Angie…not Aidan…listen! Look at the picture!" Rollie told her trembling wife as she looked down at the picture in his hands and sat down, relieved.
 
 

"Oh God, Rollie- it’s Taia’s son, Bastion!"
 
 

"You said…Ta..?" Captain Eisley asked, sitting down then across from them, pulling out a pad and his pen.
 
 

"Uh, that’s Suzie…Suzie Wong…she’s the mother…" Rollie said, interrupting him as Angie realized her mistake. She had forgotten about Taia’s witness protection name. She bit her lip and looked at the picture of Bastion. He had blood on his shirt.
 
 

"The boy is telling everyone that you’re his father. The report says that the picture he was clutching had your name on the back and well, this is you, right?" Eisley asked, scratching his head.
 
 

"I’m a friend of the family, not his father…he just well, he calls everyone his father," Rollie said, trying to downplay Bastion’s assertion.
 
 

"Do you know where his mother is?" Eisley continued, making notes.
 
 

"Ah, she was taking the boy to Disneyland today…" Rollie replied, nodding his head, "yeah, they were spending the day there."
 
 

"That’s a ‘firm…he was found at Disneyland on a ride alone. There was blood all over the boat and the kid…he was crying hysterically," Eisley replied, looking intently at Rollie who looked back at him surprised.
 
 

Eisley looked over at Tyler’s wife and watched for any body or facial movements that would tell him anything else but she had clamped down, only looking concerned.
 
 

"I take it then, there is no father to speak of that can take responsibility for the child…" Eisley commented, sighing.
 
 

"No, Suzie has no other relatives…she’s alone," Rollie replied, shaking his head as his worries went to Dingo and what had happened to the two of them.
 
 

"Since the kid knows you, Mr. Tyler…mind coming with me to the Anaheim precinct I want you to make a positive I.D. We’ll let social services take it after that…" he began as Angie’s eyes widened.
 
 

"You’re going to turn him over to them, strangers?" Angie asked, standing up.
 
 

"That’s what we do, Mrs. Tyler…in the case of a missing parent, until they show up or we ‘find’ them…" he replied, his voice almost routine as Angie cringed over his choice of words. She knew he was insinuating that Taia had been abducted or worse.
 
 

"Okay, let’s go…" Rollie said, grabbing a pen and scribbling a note to Lucinda. He decided to hold onto Vanduran’s letter. He didn’t need two disasters on his hands. With Dingo and Taia missing, he was starting to jumpstart that area of his brain that he had hoped to put behind him…but he should have known; the mess at the airport and then his father’s deception. If it was the last thing he ever did, it would be to tie his father in a chair and leave him there until he told him the truth, the whole truth about everything.

Dingo brought Taia to a bar on the Strip, her curiosity not strong enough to ask what he was up to as the pain enveloped everything at this point. They made their way to the back, Dingo punching in a code on a number pad. The door opened slowly then, as he slightly pushed her through the door. It was cold and almost sterile appearing inside as he flipped on the lights. Shortly thereafter, the bartender appeared through the same entrance. Taia watched in amazement as he opened another door, revealing a very well stocked clinic with an examining table and various other supplies.
 
 

"Who first?" he asked gruffly as Dingo pointed to Taia.
 
 

"Come on, I don’t have all night, sister. I’m loosing good tips out there tonight…" he added.
 
 

Taia walked over to the table, slowly undressing, taking her shirt off.
 
 

"Lie down, on your stomach…." The man commanded and she slowly, with a small cry, did as she was instructed. The bartender drew up some Xylocaine in a syringe and then wiped over the oozing four inch wound with a Betadine sponge that dripped the antiseptic solution over her pants, staining them as well.
 
 

"Clean, nice sharp blade…" he commented as he then injected the wound site in four areas with the topical anesthetic. Taia flinched slightly as Dingo held her hand. He was next and he knew his wound was not as clean. The bartender opened a sterile tray, putting on sterile gloves as he took a metal probe from the tray and inserted it inside the wound. It traveled about four inches inside before hitting resistance.
 
 

"Hmm, knew what he was slicing," the man commented as he threw the probe down inside the metal tray and ripped open a suture pack, grabbing the needle with a holder. He carefully closed the wound by layers of tissue. He was meticulous but fast as he finished with a neat row of tiny nylon sutures on the skin.
 
 

"There, even your mama won’t see a scar, sister…take ‘um out in seven days…" he added, placing a soft wad of gauze, then covering it with a clear strip of adhesive bandage, "good as new…but I would suggest you lean heavy on the steak and iron pills for the next couple of weeks. You lost some blood there…"
 
 

Taia nodded, murmuring a "thank you" as she stiffly got off the table. She looked to Dingo who had already removed his shirt. As the bartender cleaned up and set up for his next patient, Taia slowly put on her blood stained shirt. She didn’t know what she would have done without Dingo.
 
 

As Dingo assumed the position, Taia came over and held his hand. He winked at her bravely; "Piece of cake, darling…" he told her as his head jerked up suddenly. The bartender clucked like a hen.
 
 

"Nasty!" was the comment that came from the hooch doctor as Taia made a face.
 
 

"That bad, eh?" Dingo asked, trying to see.
 
 

"Let’s just say, another scar to tell tales about with your mates around the barbie," the man said, chuckling as he began injecting the topical anesthetic.
 
 

"It looks like a hunter’s knife, you know- serrated 4 millimeter teeth sized with a nice upbite at the end. The guy that did this, he didn’t like you…"
 
 

"Ah, well- it felt as much," Dingo replied, wincing and grabbing Taia’s hand tighter as the man probed the wound.
 
 

"A good six inches, my friend, but then, you have a bit of adipose so you were lucky…"
 
 

"Adi who?" Dingo asked, whistling at the pain.
 
 

"Fat, mate, fat!"
 
 

"Lucky me, fat saved my life," he replied, trying to show a brave face to Taia who smiled.
 
 

Dingo’s wound was longer, deeper and required another round of injections before closing the wound. As the bartender dressed the wound, he smiled and marveled at his work.
 
 

"Not like the old days, Dingo….I felt rusty, you know…"
 
 

"I agree, you bastard!" Dingo replied, laughing as the two men shook hands. Taia remained quiet, demonstrating her thankfulness with a firm handshake.
 
 

"You guys come back now, any time…" he added as he opened the door to the bar area and they stepped back into the somewhat grungy world of that section of the Strip.
 
 

"Not anytime soon, mate," Dingo replied, slipping him a card. As they left, the bartender walked over to a special credit card machine, swiping the card through as he eyes lit up and the amount that flashed for his eyes only…five thousand dollars.
 
 

"I love tending bar," the man said, grinning as one of his regulars grinned back, displaying only four teeth as he slammed down his shot glass;
 
 

"Hit me again, Mac!"
 
 

"Yeah, yeah…" he replied, pouring him another glass of whiskey.

Marvin Vanduran sat at LAX, looking down at his laptop as he checked his e-mail. He was agitated. He would have to fly standby, since his return had been slated for two days yet to come. He fidgeted in his seat. This was not the way it was suppose to be. Lucinda was supposed to have said yes immediately and then, she would have come back to New York with him…
 
 

He cursed under his breath as a woman with a child nearby, got up abruptly and moved. He shook his head and thought about how he was behaving. He had become too soft, too mushy. It was all for the best, he decided. Upon that thought, he connected to the Internet and decided to check out the local police hotline traffic. It was always good for a curious Captain to check out the other neighborhoods, see what kind of stuff was happening and maybe take scores. He liked taking percentages, doing ratios per capita with other precincts, put them on a national scale with New York and sit back, knowing he handled in his precinct alone, more than 90% of the type of crime in a day that these other precincts handled in a year.
 
 

Chuckling to himself, he began his probe and it did take his mind off of Lucinda for awhile. He was already writing scores, taking names and perversely wondered if he was sick or something for getting such a delight out of his hobby. The smile on his face suddenly sank as he came across the local net bulletin on a found child in Anaheim and Rollie Tyler’s picture clutched in his hand.
 
 

"Great Caesar’s Ghost!" he remarked out loud, slapping his laptop shut. Tyler was up to his elbows in alligators again. What did a man have to do to keep that crazy Australian out of trouble?
 
 

Picking up his brief case, he went down to the flight desk, requesting his bags be pulled and returned to him. He was out, riding in a taxi back to Venice before long. As he got out of the cab, he saw the studio car rounding the corner of Canal Street about 200 yards from the bungalow. He swiftly grabbed the key Lucinda gave him from his key ring and opened the door, running to her bedroom. The sweat poured from his face as he ripped open his suitcase and started to unpack….but he heard her at the door and spun around, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
 
 

"What are you doing?" Lucinda asked, hands on hips with a frown.
 
 

"Uh…just starting to pack a few things, you know…I only have two days left," he answered, slightly stammering.
 
 

"My God, you are type A all over, Marvin. Relax, baby! Man, you’re sweating! Why didn’t you turn down the air conditioner?" Lucinda asked him as she went over to the controls.
 
 

"Whew, sounds good," Vanduran told her as he grinned, sitting on the bed and pushing his laptop under the bed with the heel of his shoe.
 
 

"Where’s everybody?" Lucinda asked, starting to act suspicious.
 
 

"Um, let’s see…" he replied, jumping up and looking out toward the dining room table. There was a note and he took a giant breath that he had held, seeing that Rollie had not left his letter anywhere.
 
 

"Let me see that!" Lucinda demanded, a little put out. She had hoped that she could take everyone out for dinner. Her plans never seemed to go the way she wanted them.
 
 

"What’s this? ‘we have to check out something, be back in a little while?’ Huh?" she asked, reading the note, "Do you know anything about this?"
 
 

"Um, not really…" Vanduran said, lying.
 
 

"Well, shoot! Nobody is cooperating!" Lucinda said, stomping her feet in a little fit.
 
 

"Ah, honey…" Vanduran offered, coming up and holding her in his arms. She instantly melted into him and he held on to her, realizing he wasn’t going to leave without her answer now. In fact….
 
 

"Lucinda…"
 
 

"Yes Marvin…?"
 
 

"I want to know, you know…"
 
 

"Yeah, I know…"
 
 

"Please, don’t leave me in suspense like this…"
 
 

"It’s dumb, Marvin…"
 
 

"It is?"
 
 

"Yeah, I mean, how could I have thought we could go on like this?"
 
 

"Oh…so the answer is no…" he replied, dejectedly, his arms leaving the embrace.
 
 

"Oh no! I mean….it’s dumb to have not just said what I felt and knew to be the right answer, silly!"
 
 

"Okay," he replied, returning his arms.
 
 

"I can’t marry you," she told him, making a sad face.
 
 

Vanduran’s arms dropped again, his mouth opened slightly as he forgot to breathe.
 
 

"Marvin?"
 
 

"Marvin!"
 
 

He was looking at her face and wondering why he couldn’t hear anything she was saying anymore….
 
 

"HEY! I can’t marry you UNTIL, I make arrangements with my agent and find out the climate in New York, silly! I mean, I AM still Lucinda Scott, damn it- actress extraordinaire! I won’t play second fiddle any longer to bizarre Chinese madmen who hack up people and make little dolls out of them!"
 
 

"What?" Vanduran was once again caught up in Lucinda’s ranting and bizarre thought patterns. But she did make sense and he did smile then and it was all forgotten as they knew it was going to happen for them. Her squeal, as he picked her up, resounded along the canal. The sound of a dog howling, harmonized her enthusiasm.