3

"Okay, Miss Anwen." He couldn't help smiling. "Where did you lose Tadda? Was it near Santa's Throne?"

"No, Mr. Candy Man." Anwen crossed her arms and tilted her jaw with a bossy pout. "I want a red and green candy cane."

"So, your father was paying for the candy cane and disappeared?" Andy led her toward the direction of the Christmas candy display. His break if almost over and he will have to turn his radio back on soon. God, he hates this job "Which one?"

"That big one, red and green. Please, Papa? Can you buy it?" Big blue eyes peered at him as if he were a hero. How could he say no? Counting the change in his pocket carefully, he assembled five dollars and gave it to the candy man. Again, Anwen's delighted smile wobbled his insides, reminding him of outings with his father—duck hunting, fence repairing, fishing—following his father's footsteps. In retrospect, it had all been useless.

.

.

Rhys stares at the wall full of security monitors, praying he can spot Anwen. Next to him, a team of security personnel look over the shoulder of the guy at the control panel. He flips through the camera angles, responding to commands to zoom in, turn, pan. It's hard to see a child walking among all the adults. Would the kidnapper have changed her clothes already? Maybe put a wig on her? He vocalizes his concerns to the chief of security.

"That's a possibility," he replies. "We've set up checkpoints at all the exits. He won't get far."

"What about the one leading to the subway? There's one underground that steps directly onto the train."

"You mean the underground?" the man at the console replies. Right.

"Of course, that's what I mean," Rhys snaps, irritable now. "He could have taken her anywhere by now."

"True, but we're capturing every exit on the video feed." He points to a monitor showing the exit to the train station. All I see are masses of people, some wheeling strollers and others holding children wearing winter coats.

"How can you see inside the strollers? Shouldn't you have a guard inspect every child?" There's a loud thump as the heavy steel door opens. Two police officers follow a security guard. Rhy's Mother is also looking at screens. They remove their caps and shake Rhys's hand, introducing themselves. He's questioned and repeats everything that happened starting with Anwen's visit to Santa, but they want me to go further back.

"Are you involved in a custody dispute?"

"Do you have any reason to suspect someone of taking an interest in your child?"

"Have you seen any suspicious people following you around before you visited the mall?"

"Do you have enemies?"

The first three questions are a definite 'no.' Not a chance, but that last one? Who can truly know? He can't exactly say his wife works for Bloody Torchwood.

The police tell him they've set up an area to call Gwen. Great, just what he needs. He starts to rehearse what he's going to say while he waits for the secure phone line. They access his Facebook account to download pictures of Anwen, and he calls his mother, asking her to meet him at mall security.

His eyes flash from the train to the Santa Throne to the coffee shop to the center court. A broad-shouldered man walks around the giant Christmas tree holding hands with … "There!"

Rhys points to the screen. "That's Anwen. She's with that Security Guard."

The people in the room spring into action. They speak on walkie talkies and quickly ascertain that the man is not hearing them…. Is he a real guard becomes the question as they lock the camera onto the man and zoom in, while others rush for the door. He scrambles after them, in the wake of the two police officers.

Rhys takes off running after the officers who move quickly toward the tree. The crowds of people part when they see the officers with their hands over their holsters. His heart jumps to his throat. What if Anwen's caught in the crossfire?

"Hands up," the police shout. "Let go of the child."

The man slowly raises his hands. Rhys rushes toward Anwen, calling her name. A guard grabs my arm. "Stay back until they get the situation under control."

"Anwen, Tadda's here. Come here. Everything's going to be okay." He entreats her, but she stands still. What's wrong with her? She has her arms locked around the man's legs. He's a large fellow, scruffy with dirty blond hair and a thick beard, wearing a security guard uniform. Not your typical child molester profile.

"That's my papa," Anwen yells. "We was looking for you."

"He's her father?" the head of security says. "I thought you said there's no custody issue."

Rhys stands to his full height, picking up Anwen. "He's definitely not her father. Do your job and lock him up."

Rhys glares at the man, noting his unkempt appearance. "You better not have hurt my daughter, or you'll have hell to pay."

"But Tadda," Anwen lisps, now sucking on a red and green candy cane. "Santa pwo-mised. Can we take Papa home?"

Rhys hugs and kisses Anwen, shuddering at the thought of this animal hurting his precious baby. "Not right now, sweetie. Nana's waiting for us at church."

"Sir," the police officer says. "Are you filing charges against this man? He says he found your daughter and they were looking for you."

"Did it look like they were looking for me?" Rhys turns Anwen away from him. "He bought her a candy cane. He was obviously luring her away with him."

"Is that true?" the officer asks the man.

"I bought her the candy, but I was helping her find her father." The man, who's still handcuffed, points his chin at Rhys.

"Why didn't you turn her over to on-duty mall security? Why did you not radio it in or call for assistance?" the police officer asks.

"Anwen wanted me to find her father." He has the audacity to wink at Rhys. "And I wanted to meet Rhys to say Hi. Lovely mind, he doesn't even recognize me."

"Papa!" Anwen says. "Santa gave me a papa. Puhwease? Can we take him home?"

Her cuteness draws chuckles from the guards around us. A female spectator comments, "I'll take him if you don't want him."

"Am I free to leave? I actually am supposed to be on duty now my break is over" Andy man asks the officer.

The officer turns to his partner who has the man's ID. "What do we have here?"

"Uh, name's Andy Davidson," the second officer reads from his tablet computer. "No arrest records. Oh, was Heddlu down in Cardiff during the… happenings, medical discharge from service with … fuck a Queen's service medal… and currently a Security Guard here."

"Andy Davidson?" Rhys's grasps his arm. "Fuck me dead…. It is you"

"Yes, Rhys, that would be me." The tide shifts among the officers and onlookers. Several bystanders snap pictures of Andy with their camera phones. Rhys's mother turns up with a puff in her step. The officers are looking at him slack-jawed and wide-eyed as if wishing they could ask for his autograph.

The tension breaks when Anwen holds her arms to Andy and says, "See, that's my papa. See? I told you I have a real papa, not a fake someone like Mama I see on TV."

Everyone laughs, and the officer removes the handcuffs from Andy.

"Rhys," his mother says, taking out her car keys. "Why were you so rude to Officer. Davidson? We'll never make it to church on time now."

"He and Gwen had that bust up about something and she told me he was… lewd… so… no. I am not welcoming him after he treated her like that" Rhys hissed.

"Tadda?" Anwen asks. "Is Papa coming to church?"

"He's not your other father." Rhys seethes through his teeth. "You're not supposed to talk to strangers."

"Do I get a time out?" She sucks on the blasted red and green jumbo candy cane. "I'm sowrry."

After they returned from the mall, she threw a tantrum when she realized her designated father was not coming home with them. When he told Gwen her face changed, and she became combative. Rhys started to wonder if that story had been quite as accurate as she had made out.

Thankfully Anwen had forgotten about him the very next day, but she's back to sucking her thumb and hugging her fuzzy yellow blanket.

Rhys can't get Andy out of his head.

Had she lied?