The blare of the alarm bell was starting to grate on him. Rafael had been anxiously sitting on the bench near the carousel for almost an hour. But his excitement was rapidly being replaced by agitation. The whimsical song of the ride was interrupted every few seconds by loud clanging, signaling someone had won one of the cheap prizes at the game booths.
He checked his phone again, making sure he had the details right.
Let’s meet in front of the carousel at Fairy Tale Land. Six p.m.
This had not been his idea. He would have preferred meeting someplace a little less childish. And more private. But he had been talking to Julia for almost two weeks and he was looking forward to finally meeting her.
The dating app, Crush, didn’t allow people to exchange pictures, which he appreciated. He wanted to attract women without prejudice. Being the son of Rafael Humberto II, the billionaire real estate mogul, he never knew when women were attracted to him, his socialite status or his impending wealth. He could really get to know someone and their intentions this way.
Pulling his black baseball cap lower on his head, he casually glanced around. The last thing he wanted was to be recognized by some social media influencer and have his image associated with this place.
Thirty minutes ago, he had received a message on the app.
Julia: I’m so sorry, traffic is really bad.
Rafael: No problem.
Typically, he was more patient. He had to be given his line of work. But with each passing minute, he became increasingly paranoid and overstimulated; his annoyance with his missing date growing.
He decided to send Julia another message.
Are you getting close?
Three typing dots popped up. He waited. Then they disappeared. No message.
He sighed. It didn’t take a genius to realize he was being stood up. He wallowed in his rejection on the bench. Some small part of him still held out hope that Julia would show up. Finally, after another ten minutes he admitted defeat.
Dejected and beaten, Rafael trudged to the parking lot.
He opened the trunk of his Audi. It was the car he used when he wanted to be inconspicuous. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he carefully pulled out the small syringe containing a mild sedative. He returned it to the black duffle bag, placing it next to a roll of duct tape.
This had never happened before. Now he didn’t know what to do with all his pent-up energy; the thrill of the hunt spoiled. He was back at square one.
Sitting in the quiet of his car, he perused profiles on Crush. After the fifth profile, he swiped left. It’s a crush! flashed across the screen.
The profile was for a woman named Hannah. She had already swiped left on his profile. Excitement flooded him as he began to message his next victim.
The Camp Site 