Agrippa nodded.
"Please make sure the photograph of my son is included in the report."
"It will be."
"And I'd like to know whether the person who sent the message can be identified."
"We'll see what our investigators can determine."
Agrippa thanked him and left.
He did not expect the police to solve everything immediately. He knew that investigations took time, and he had no desire to turn a single confrontation into a public spectacle.
But someone had threatened his child.
That changed the calculation.
He called Larry's school and arranged to speak with the principal. He explained that an incident had occurred at the park and asked that no unfamiliar person be allowed to collect his son.
Then he called his sister, Miriam, who lived fifteen minutes away.
Miriam had been the person who helped him survive the first year after Elena's death. She had brought groceries when he forgot to eat, watched Larry when Agrippa worked overtime, and told him bluntly when grief was turning him into someone his son could no longer reach.
She answered on the second ring.
"What's wrong?"
"Why do you assume something's wrong?"
"Because you never call before lunch unless something's wrong."
Agrippa sighed.
"Fair enough."
He explained what had happened.
Miriam listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she was quiet for several seconds.
"They threatened Larry?"
"They sent a photograph and a message."
"Have you called the police?"
"Yes."
"Good. What else are you doing?"
"Making sure the school knows."
"And?"
Agrippa rubbed the scar beneath his eye.
"I don't know yet."
"Then let me make something clear. You do not have to prove anything to those men."
"I'm not trying to."
"Good. Because I know you, Agrippa. When somebody threatens your family, you become very calm, and that scares me more than when you shout."
He almost smiled.
"I won't do anything reckless."
"I believe you. But you don't have to handle everything alone."
That was something he still struggled to accept.
For years, he had treated independence as a form of protection. If he did not ask for help, nobody could disappoint him. If he did not depend on anyone, nobody could leave.
Elena had spent much of their marriage teaching him that love was not a weakness.
Her death had made the lesson harder to remember.
"I'll keep you updated," he said.
"You'd better."
After the call, Agrippa returned to his truck.
A message appeared on his phone from an old contact.
IS THAT REALLY YOU IN THE PARK VIDEO?
The sender was Victor Hale, a former coach who had helped Agrippa prepare for his first professional title fight.
Agrippa stared at the message.
He had not spoken to Victor in almost four years.
He considered ignoring it.
Then another message arrived.
CALL ME. IT'S IMPORTANT.
Agrippa called.
Victor answered immediately.
"I knew it was you."
"Hello to you too."
"Don't joke with me. I watched the video. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
"And the boy?"
"Larry's fine."
"Good."
Victor exhaled.
"Listen carefully. Someone has been asking questions about you."
Agrippa straightened.
"What kind of questions?"
"Your old contracts. Your last few fights. Where you work now. Whether you're still training."
Agrippa felt the familiar coldness settle behind his ribs.
"Who?"
"I don't know. A man contacted the gym two weeks ago. Said he was producing a documentary about retired fighters."
"What's his name?"
"He called himself Daniel Voss."
Agrippa searched his memory.
The name meant nothing.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because he sounded legitimate. He knew your fight history, and he offered money for interviews. I thought he was just another producer looking for a comeback story."
"And now?"
"Now I've seen that video. And I've got a bad feeling."
Agrippa looked through the windshield at the ordinary street beyond the police station.
A bus rolled past. Two schoolchildren crossed at the traffic light. A delivery driver carried boxes into a shop.
The world continued as though nothing had changed.
"Victor," Agrippa said, "did this man mention the park?"
"No."
"Did he ask about my son?"
A pause.
"He asked whether you had a family."
Agrippa's fingers tightened around the phone.
"What exactly did you tell him?"
"That you were married once. That your wife died. That you had a boy."
Agrippa closed his eyes.
Victor's voice became apologetic.
"I didn't think it mattered. I'm sorry."
"It's all right."
But it was not all right.
Someone had been investigating his life before the confrontation.
Someone had searched for information about his career, his family, and his current circumstances.
Someone had made contact with a former coach, and someone else had sent a photograph of Larry with a threat.
The pieces were not yet connected.
But Agrippa could no longer convince himself that Trent and his friends had simply chosen a random father in a park.