Adventure of Dallas Fontaine 2

Three days later, Far Harbor Central Park sits under a gray lid of winter cloud. Dallas Fontaine waits in the trees while Professor Dayton paces by the duck pond, his coat pulled tight, his nerves showing.

Dayton turns his head toward the treeline, and the heavy footsteps there go quiet for a beat, as if someone has stopped to listen.

Dallas keeps still in the shadow of the oak, fedora low, coat dark against the bark. Whatever is tailing Dayton is now tied directly to the customs annex, and to Jackson Temple's name on the false routing slips.

Dayton reaches into his pocket and glances at his phone again, waiting for Dallas to make the next move.

Dallas finds the rhythm in the treeline, one set of steps breaking cover by the pond and another hesitating near the path. The watcher is not a blur, but a man in a dark knit cap with a camera strap under his coat, using the benches and trunks for spacing.

The man drifts left when Dayton checks his phone, then freezes when Dayton looks up. Dallas catches the detail that matters, a white paper cup tucked in the same hand every time, hiding the flash of a municipal badge clip.

A second figure, older and broader, sits on the far bench with a newspaper folded wrong. He never looks toward Dayton, but his shoe taps once, then stops, as if waiting for a signal.

Dallas tracks the pair as a matched set. The camera man is the active tail, the bench man is the spotter. Both are watching Dayton, and both are watching for Dallas.

The knit cap man turns just enough for Dallas to catch the badge color under his collar, Harbor Unit blue gone dull with grime. Dayton still has not noticed the bench man at all, and his phone hand is starting to shake.