Laurie inhaled deeply and then exhaled just as deeply. She really had to calm down. She could not go around town assaulting people. And just because they deserved it was not enough of a reason to do something that violent.
The man, or security agent or whatever he was. Younger. What kind of a name was that anyway? The man named Younger was staring at Laurie as though she was out of her mind. And maybe she was.
“Ma’am, I understand you want the culprits brought to justice.” His choice of wording seemed very careful and rather deliberate. “I believe we can help you with that. I do. But I’ll need you to sit down and answer a few more questions for me, please.”
Laurie could feel the other guy in the office and Caroline staring at her. They were thinking Laurie was off her rocker. She could tell. It wouldn’t be the first time someone thought that. Not by a long shot.
“I’m sorry,” Laurie said stiffly. “I’m just very tired of this situation. It’s really taking a toll on all of us at the Landing. These kids aren’t just regular hooligans bullying tourists and making a general nuisance of themselves. It’s almost like they’re organized.”
“Organized?” He did not sound doubtful, just curious. “How so?”
“Last night, they hit the mall in three different places at the same time. That way we didn’t have enough resources to curtail their efforts. I don’t know if they really intended to snatch that woman’s purse or if it was just a response to the fact that she managed to smack one of them hard enough to knock him off his skateboard.”
Younger nodded his head thoughtfully. “So, you think the purse snatch might have been a heat of the moment and perhaps retaliatory sort of action?”
“Possibly.” Laurie considered this guy, Younger. He was more intelligent than she gave him credit for. At least it was starting to seem that way.
On the outside he looked like most dumb muscle-head types. Six feet two or three with broad shoulders, thick legs, a wide chest, narrow waist, and of course wearing combat boots and what appeared to be military knock-off fatigues on the bottom half and a tight cotton T-shirt on top. His hair was brown and cropped close but what was surprising was the man actually had a dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks as though he had spent every single day of his life outdoors. He wasn’t handsome, not really. Yet Laurie found her gaze continually drifting down toward his hands.
He wasn’t handsy. He didn’t talk with them or gesture or move them around. He wasn’t fidgety by any means. That might have been the fascination. His hands were strong and capable looking. Laurie could not help but notice the calluses and the way he lightly held a pen in his left hand and not his right so that he could casually take down a few notes here and there on a yellow legal pad. He didn’t even seem to look at what he wrote. His hand just moved and a scrawling line of words appeared on the page. His handwriting wasn’t on the lines and yet it seemed to flow together with a certain perfection that suggested he wrote at an intentional angle to the lines and could probably even tell you what that angle was if you asked him.
“And the police haven’t filed a formal report on what’s been happening at your place?” Younger wanted to know.
Laurie answer quickly and concisely. “No. They refuse to get involved. They claim it’s a mall problem and should be handled by mall security.”
“Tell me about your security,” Younger suggested. “How many people do you have on your team?”
Laurie went through her mental roster. “I have one full-time guy and about a dozen part time guys who tend to double as bouncers or rent-a-cops at other malls or attractions around Branson.”
“How many guys do you have on a shift at once?” Younger queried.
It was a good question. An insightful one. He was not going to assume she had a dozen guys at her beck and call at any given moment. “Corporate gives us enough budget to have at least four part-time guys plus myself and my full-time employee. On the weekends, we get six part-timers.”
“That’s actually a good amount of people,” Younger murmured. He sat back in his chair and looked thoughtful. “And you said this attack took place last night?”
“Yes.”
“So, you had six total assets with boots on the ground and your vandals hit you in three places at once. Depending on how the patrols were set up, I would guess that whatever happened in the middle is where you had your assault. Correct?” He was looking at her with frank interest and not a bit of judgment or censure or anything else. It was odd. Not what she was used to at all.
“Yes,” Laurie said quickly, trying to focus back on exactly what she was saying and not on the man. She was getting distracted by this guy and she kept telling herself that she didn’t even like him. Not really. He was a muscle-head. “We tend to keep more of our assets—as you called them—on the outskirts of the mall so they have an opportunity to come to the aid of anyone in the parking lots. That also means we keep golf carts patrolling the lots at most times.”
“All right.” He scribbled something else on his legal pad. It was a diagram of some kind. She had to forcibly restrain herself from leaning over and craning her neck to see what he was writing.
“Are you ex-military or something?” Laurie could not believe the words had slipped out of her mouth, but the moment they passed her lips they were gone. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business. I just—I recognized some of the phrases you used from the way my full-time guy Josh speaks. He was an Army Colonel for many years.”
Younger did not look up from his yellow legal pad, but he did smile. “Boots on the ground? Assets? Yes. I’m a former Marine. We do tend to get the lingo a bit embedded in our verbiage. But these days there are so many people using what they call military phrases that it’s not that unusual.”
“I suppose not.” Laurie tried to picture him as a Marine and found that it didn’t take much effort. Good. Perhaps he would be efficient at this job and get things taken care of before corporate came down hard on Laurie for not doing her job. “So, is this a case your company could handle?”
“You’ve yet to tell me exactly what you want us to do,” Younger said suddenly.
Laurie felt her mind stutter step. “Excuse me? I said I have a hoodlum problem. I want them caught and punished.”
“But we aren’t the police,” Younger reminded her. “If the police aren’t willing to take your problem seriously, then you’ve got multiple issues happening at the same time. Number one, your security needs exceed your budget. Number two, you have people breaking the law on your property and you want that to stop. For the most part, vandalism like you’re describing has only a few ways that it tends to happen.”
“Vandalism,” Laurie repeated. “That is not a big enough word for what’s going on.”
Now he raised a hand. “Let me finish.”
She nodded. Fine. He was obviously about to blow her off. Laurie could deal with that. Maybe.
“You need someone to help you gather enough evidence or proof of wrongdoing to constitute a crime. Then you need someone to help you force the police to get involved.”
“That’s a losing battle!” Laurie couldn’t help it. The words just sort of burst out of her mouth.
Younger dropped his pen and leaned back in his chair. “Possibly, but I know a detective who will listen. I’m going to guess you’ve been dealing with Detective Sellers.”
“Yes!” Laurie was dumbfounded. “You know Sellers?” Then she felt stupid because of course he would know Sellers. The Branson PD was not a huge department. It wasn’t like there were a hundred detectives to choose from and these security guys were probably embroiled in this stuff all the time.
“Yes,” Younger said quietly. He glanced at the other man sitting at the desk a few feet away. “Let’s just say that we know Detective Sellers quite well. Well enough not to call him when we need something done.”
Laurie suddenly felt hope. “Then you can help me gather enough evidence to at least get a few of th
ese little bastards arrested?”
“Yes, I think we can do that.” He gave a grave nod of sorts and then reached down, opened a desk drawer, and withdrew a piece of what looked like cardstock. “These are our rates though.”
Laurie took the little pasteboard list of prices and realized it was hand-lettered. “You guys don’t have an official list?”
“No. Usually we just charge a flat rate plus expenses. This is going to be a different sort of job,” Younger told her. He did not seem to bat an eye or think that anything he was saying was strange even though he was basically telling Laurie—at least in her opinion—that he was going to charge her out the ass for this. “I’ll be using your assets as well as mine. That means the rate will be a little lower for additional personnel.”
Laurie felt her brain do a little hiccup. “I’m sorry. Lower?”
“Sure. I’m not going to make you pay me for your assets while you pay them, too.”
She was pretty sure this was unusual. At least she thought it was. The guy was saying he was charging her less rather than more. She should just take the deal and go with it, right? Laurie bit her lip. She really shouldn’t have been there at all. Her budget didn’t technically have enough padding to cover a three thousand dollar retainer. While it didn’t sound like much since she was talking about a multi-million dollar mall, her budget was down to nickel and dime and sometimes a penny in one direction or another could break her entirely.
“All right.” She handed him back his price list. “Let’s just do it. I’ll sign a contract or whatever and you can come out and evaluate my situation. That’s what you do. Right? You come out and talk to me about ways to improve what we’re doing?”
“Not necessarily,” Younger drawled with obvious amusement. “You’re making me sound like a security consultant and that’s not actually what I do.”
“Oh.” She felt stupid. She didn’t really know how all of this worked. It was all new to her. “Well then, what happens?”
“When are you on shift today?” he wanted to know.
Laurie pulled up a snapshot of her weekly schedule in her mind. “I work at two o’clock today and I will be there until we close at nine and then of course, however long it takes to wrap things up so that we can leave.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you at two o’clock,” he told her. “I’m assuming you have an office there at the mall?”
Laurie frowned. “Surely, you’ve been to the Landing before.”
“No. I can’t say I have.” Younger gave her a wry smile. “Do I strike you as the type that enjoys shopping?”
Laurie eyed his outfit and his worn combat boots. There were so many reasons why she couldn’t see him in a mall. He was right. It was probably very unlikely that he’d ever been to her mall before. “I suppose you don’t strike me as that type at all. I just thought since there’s a sportsmen’s warehouse there…” Laurie trailed off. She had totally stereotyped him. It was rude. She tried not to do that, but she was rather horrible at it anyway. She profiled everyone.
“I do like to fish,” he told her with a grin. “But I go to the big store in Springfield when I really need to purchase something. They have a better selection.”
Laurie supposed she should have found that insulting. He was making a sort of slur against the Landing and yet it didn’t feel that way at all. His was a very matter-of-fact statement. There did not seem to be ill will or insult behind it. He was just telling her what he thought. What a strange thing.
“All right then.” Laurie pursed her lips. “So, I’ll—uh—I’ll get the money to you tonight?”
He raised his eyebrows as though he’d forgotten the money discussion of a few minutes ago.
“You know,” Laurie prodded. “The retainer.”
“Oh. Right.” Now he bobbed his head toward Caroline. “She can take payment over the phone or you can just drop a check here by the office. I try not to collect money. I’m notoriously bad at sticking checks and stuff in my pocket and then washing my pants.”
“No doubt,” came the rude reply from Caroline behind the reception desk. “I think we’ve lost thousands like that.”
“You, stop,” Younger said with amusement. He shook his head at Caroline, not seeming to take her rudeness personally. Maybe it was just Laurie who felt so insulted by the woman.
Laurie need to get out of here. “Okay. I’ll see you in my office at two o’clock,” she told him. “I’ll uh, have everything ready to go.”
Younger shrugged. “Sounds good.” And then he went back to whatever he’d been doing before she walked into the building. Laurie wasn’t entirely sure if Younger realized how important this was, but maybe she was just making too much out of the whole thing. That was always possible.
Chapter Five
Mall security. Younger reminded himself that no job was a bad job. Then he emerged from the parking lot on the shore of Lake Taneycomo and climbed the stairs to the outdoor mall’s wide promenade. Hordes of people darted from store to store, doing their level best to stay in the shade of the two- and three-story buildings on either side of the walkway. They carried colorful plastic shopping bags bulging with their purchases and held ice cream cones. Most were dressed in summer casual wear and all of them seemed to be meandering aimlessly through the mall.
It was two o’clock and the sun was high in the sky. Younger walked along in what he could only assume was the right direction. He could feel the heat baking off the sidewalk and was tempted to duck inside an air-conditioned restaurant for a quick drink just to get some relief from the sun.
Younger hadn’t spotted any golf carts roaming the parking lot, but the lot was huge and packed with cars. It was hard to believe that this was the middle of the week and yet when tourists on vacation were involved, you could never just assume that they cared whether or not it was the weekend. Younger watched them gather in small knots and enormous groups. Somewhere nearby, a pan pipe played. Younger got closer to the center of the Landing promenade where, according to Google, the fire and water show took place every night. He spotted a kiosk in the center of the walkway where Native American musicians were playing their pipes and selling CDs. Shoppers gathered in the heat to listen before wandering away toward the lake shore to watch the fountains spray huge bursts of water straight into the air in a slow, repeating rhythm. Kids played in the reflected spray as their parents sat beneath awnings and umbrellas. The whole scene was rather idyllic. If you liked that sort of thing.
Younger did not. He turned and walked in the opposite direction of the lake shore. He could see an exit from the promenade that led back to the street, but he also spotted what looked like administrative offices tucked along the right side of the building. He felt relieved to see them. If he was in luck, they would be air-conditioned. If he was even luckier, they would have bottles of icy cold water waiting inside.
A bell jangled as Younger pushed the glass door open and stepped into the wonderfully cool interior of the office. It was frigid. Pleasantly so. Younger spotted a young man with a beefy build scrawling on what looked like a report form as though he were recording everything he’d seen on his shift. Perhaps that’s how they closed out their days, coming in here to list off anything unusual they had witnessed in order to keep track of what was happening. It was actually a good idea. No doubt the over functioning, overbearing boss had come up with the notion.
Ah, yes. There she was now. Younger quickly hid a grimace when he spotted Laurie Talcott at a desk in the front corner of the room. She was in deep discussion with an older gentleman that Younger figured to be her retired army guy who worked full-time. The two of them had their heads together like a couple of conspirators and Younger didn’t want to interrupt. Keeping back, he used the time to look the office over.
It wasn’t as neat as he’d expected. Considering Laurie Talcott’s no nonsense approach to everything and her completely overbearing personality, Younger had expected the office to be painfully neat. It wasn’t. It was actually quite clu
ttered. There were four desks, a few filing cabinets, and a bank of lockers. Desks were generally strewn with pens and pencils. Paperwork trays were overflowing with papers and the computer terminals seemed to be frequently covered in junk. Tiny framed photos of the employees loved ones, plastic toys from fast food restaurants, and other bits of junk littered the desks. It looked as though a bunch of kids hung out there.
In one corner, Younger noticed a stack of signs that all read NO LOITERING, NO SKATEBOARDING, NO ROLLERBLADING. They were trimmed in bright red and were of a size that nobody could ever pretend to miss. Although, there was just so much to look at outside that Younger didn’t actually remember noticing any signs on his way to the office.
“Oh, hello!” Laurie’s voice came from behind Younger. “I didn’t see you there at first. Have you been standing there long? This is Josh Bentley. He’s our resident expert since he spent many years in the military dealing with young men.”
Younger smiled and took the hand offered to him by the older gentleman with the jarhead haircut and the flinty gray eyes. Josh Bentley’s skin was weathered like an old tree. His hands were gnarled and his body had the look of someone who had once been in peak physical shape but had been softened by age and easy living. Josh did not smile at Younger. He pumped his hand up and down and Younger felt as though the man was trying his best to rip Younger’s hand off. Great. Younger didn’t need an old military man who felt threatened by the newcomer and was going to start pissing contests every other minute.
“Marines, eh?” Josh did not look convinced. “And what was your unit, Marine?”
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