by A.R. Wise
Chapter Five
“I haven’t been here in a while,” said Darcy as they entered the Boulder Valley mall.
Lincoln agreed. It’d been several years since he visited the mall. Darcy used to have him drive her here when she was a teen, and he would sit in the food court reading as she met with friends. Most parents would simply drop their children off and then pick them up again a few hours later, but Darcy’s illness required constant monitoring, and Lincoln didn’t feel comfortable leaving her on her own for any extended length of time. Her trips to the mall to meet friends afforded her the illusion of normality, while her father stayed in close proximity.
Indoor malls had nearly become extinct in the Boulder area, and the majority that survived were decrepit shells of what they once were. Flatirons Mall in Broomfield was the only major indoor mall around that’d flourished, while many of the others had since been torn down and replaced by parking lots and big box stores. Boulder Valley Mall stubbornly stayed open, despite how many of the shops within had been closed and shuttered.
Lincoln brought along a clipboard with pages of notes that he was keeping about the case. Darcy poked fun at him for his antiquated ways, insisting that he should be carrying a tablet PC instead, but he preferred the old-fashioned way.
They passed a nail salon, and the stench of chemicals was noxious even in the hall. An unhappy Asian woman stood out front, her arms crossed as she offered the weakest of smiles. Lincoln wondered if she had a customer passed out inside, slowly dying from whatever vapors were leaking out into the hall and causing his eyes to water and his lungs to refuse to breathe. How someone worked in those fumes was beyond him.
The next store had once been a chocolate shop, but had since closed, leaving their logo still emblazoned on the window behind the metal grate that barred entrance. Lincoln looked over at the empty benches in the middle of the hall, and a mild depression set in as he recalled how busy this place had once been. Now it seemed the only people here were being paid for the trouble, guarding this museum of an older generation’s idea of consumerism.
“I remember going to the toy store here,” said Darcy as they came to the corner that would lead them closer to the food court. “I don’t think there was anything I loved more than…” she paused as they rounded the corner and discovered that the toy store in question was no longer there. It’d been converted to an H&R Block that was closed until tax season. “Oh. I guess it’s not here anymore.”
“This whole place is on the verge of collapsing,” said Lincoln as he looked at the walls that direly needed a coat of paint. There was a spot beside them where a roof leak had eroded the ceiling and left a water stain on the wall that streaked it brown, like a pair of dirty underwear that deserved to be burned instead of washed.
“It smells like an old gym sock in here.”
Lincoln thought the analogy was odd at first, but then nodded in agreement. “You’re right. It sort of does. It makes me sad.”
“The smell of socks?”
“No, not the smell of socks.” Lincoln laughed and then shrugged, still sorting through his emotions as he tried to explain them. “This place was important to us, way back when. I remember bringing you here all the time. Do you remember that stuffed monkey you used to take with you to chemo?”
“Nanner,” said Darcy, easily recalling the name she’d given the toy. “I still have him. He’s on my dresser.”
Lincoln pointed over at the tax service center that used to be a toy store and asked, “Do you remember getting him there?”
Darcy nodded and said, “I think so. Wasn’t it right after I got diagnosed?”
“Yep. We told you to pick out anything in the store you wanted, anything at all, and you picked that silly little stuffed monkey.”
“He was cute. He still is, although he’s seen better days.”
“You used to take him with you to chemo. I remember he got a rip in his armpit, and you put a band aid on him. Your mother stole him from you one night when you were asleep, stitched him up, and then put the band aid back on. We pretended like we had nothing to do with it. I remember you taking off the band aid and running into our room to tell us that Nanner was all better. After that, you always wanted us to put band aids on you for even the tiniest little scratches.”
“You told me they had medicine in them that could fix anything,” said Darcy.
“Who knows? Maybe I was right. You got better.” He put his arm around her shoulders and brought her closer to him before kissing the top of her head.
“Here’s the food court,” said Darcy after putting up with her father’s affection for a moment. “Let’s find the exit that Trent talked about.”
The food court was just as sad a representation of urban decay as the rest of the mall, like someone had built a life-size terrarium to study the rot of 1980’s retail. Most of the restaurants were closed, with metal grates pulled down to their counters and old menus still plastered on the wall behind faded, yellow glass. The remaining restaurants stayed afloat by feeding the employees of the other shops that inexplicably stayed in business. The melodic hum of tinny elevator music was piped in through a dreary sound system, and the lonely few souls who ate here did so in silence, staring forward as if trying in vain to search for something uplifting in the few minutes they had left before walking back to work.
“Hold up a second,” said Lincoln as he took his daughter’s arm and held her back. “Look around.”
“At what?”
He spoke in a hushed tone. “Look at how unhappy they are.”
“Dad,” she said, reproachful. “Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not being mean. I’m trying to point something out to you. Look at how sad everyone here is.”
“You are being mean. Stop it.”
Lincoln shook his head, determined to get his point across. “No, pay attention. This is important. All of the people in this place have made the choice to be here. For whatever reason, they chose to be unhappy. For some of them it’s because of laziness; they’re too lazy to shoot for something higher than this. For others it’s because they feel like they don’t have any other choice. They feel like life dealt them a shitty hand and they have to stick it out and keep playing. I don’t see a single person working here who seems happy with their lot in life, and I bet they’ve all got excuses for why they can’t get out of the rut they’re in.”
He could see by the look Darcy gave him that she still thought he was judging the people here, and that wasn’t the point he was trying to get across. Before she had a chance to comment, he continued passionately, “Anyone who says they’re stuck in a job they hate is suffering under a delusion. They’re stuck thinking there’s no other option for them. Sometimes it’s their bills that got them stuck, but more often than not it’s the fault of the poison that got put in their brains. It’s the poisonous thinking that they’re not worth more than this; that the people above them deserve success more than they do. But you know what? It’s not just about success. Fuck success. It’s about being happy. It’s about not settling for a life that you have to endure. It’s a mindset, and all you have to do is flip the switch and you can make everything change.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”
“We’ve got precious little time here on Earth,” said Lincoln as he looked around at the almost empty food court. “Why in the hell would anyone waste it spending 40 hours or more a week doing something they hate?”
“Is this about me quitting my job?” asked Darcy, annoyed at the point she assumed her father was making.
“No,” said Lincoln, desperate not to give her the wrong impression. “Not at all. Ever since you were a kid, all I wanted was to see you grow up and be happy. I know your dream is to be in a band, and you’re working towards that. And you’re being smart about it by learning to run a restaurant as a back-up plan. I couldn’t be prouder of you. As long as you spend your days in service of your dreams, then you’re making me a proud papa.”
; “And are you finally going after your dreams?” asked Darcy as she looked at her father expectantly.
“What do you mean?”
“I remember you giving me this same speech when I was a kid, all about how you wanted me to dream big and chase those dreams no matter what. When I asked you what your dreams were, do you remember what you said?”
He tried to recall, but shook his head. “No.”
“You said that all you ever wanted was to help other people live happy lives. That’s why you were a motivational speaker. You said it made you happy to see other people achieving their goals.”
“That’s true. That’s why it’s so important to me that you live your dreams. That’ll make me happy.”
Darcy made a noise like a buzzer on a game show. “Wrong. Try again.”
“What do you mean?” asked Lincoln, amused.
“I’m calling you out on that bullshit.” She rarely cursed around him, but she relished the opportunity. “Mom used to tell me how happy you were before you started the office on Pearl, back when you were a consultant. If you were happy, why’d you quit?”
“There’s more to life than a job. I make more from my new business than I ever made as a consultant. And my old job had me flying all over the place. I was hardly ever home.”
“You quit because I got sick,” said Darcy, bluntly laying out the truth that Lincoln had tried to avoid admitting.
“Yes, and it was the right decision. I’d do it again a million times over.”
“Why didn’t you ever start consulting again after I beat cancer?”
“Because the new business was doing better than we expected. I didn’t have to go back to the old job. And I’m happy, Darcy. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“You’re happy? Really?” she asked like she already knew he was lying. “Is that why you hardly ever go out anywhere except to bars?”
“Ouch.”
Darcy’s expression revealed her regret. “Sorry. It’s just that this whole family thing works both ways. You want me to be happy, and I want the same for you too. And I know Mom feels the same way.”
“I am happy,” he lied with a smile. “Never happier. And I have a feeling this new project is going to keep me pretty busy.”
“That’s good. I remember you telling me that when you were a kid, and all of your friends wanted to be astronauts or firefighters, you wanted to be a private detective. It’s nice to see you reaching for that goal, even if it’s just a midlife crisis.” She teased him with an elbow to the side. “I’ve seen a spark in you that I’ve missed.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Uh-huh. You’re starting to talk like you did when I was a kid; like in all those motivational tapes and videos you used to make.”
“That was a long time ago.” He didn’t mean the sentiment to come out quite as sad as it sounded. “Anyways, let’s focus on the task at hand before the day gets away from us. There’s no exit sign here, so I’m guessing there must be a way out through there.” He pointed to a featureless door between two restaurants that was clearly meant for employees.
“Do you think they’re going to let us back there?”
“Can’t hurt to ask.”
Lincoln walked over to the business on the left side of the door. It was a Mediterranean restaurant that had a dry-looking cone of gyro meat spinning slowly in its case. The grey meat was dotted with black spots and the edges were withered from the heat, as unappetizing as a dirty diaper left out in the sun.
“How can I help you?” asked the disaffected youth wearing a paper hat and stained, white and blue apron.
“We need to get into the back,” said Lincoln with a confidence that implied he had the right to go where he pleased. “Is the door unlocked?”
“You need a key,” said the young man, surprised by the question.
“Do you have one?” asked Lincoln. “Or can you go around and let us in?”
The teenager wasn’t sure how to respond, and nodded before saying, “Sure, yeah. Give me a second.”
He went through the back of the restaurant and disappeared from view. After he was gone, Darcy asked in a whisper, “What sort of Jedi mind trick did you just pull on that kid?”
“No trick,” said Lincoln. “All it takes is confidence. If you’re wearing a nice suit and carrying a clipboard there aren’t many places you can’t get into.”
A moment later the plain, beige door opened and the young man held it for them. Lincoln and Darcy went in, and thanked the employee. The hall beyond went along the backside of each of the restaurants, providing access to lavatories and break rooms. The walls were plain and in worse shape than the ones in the retail section of the mall. The tiles were cracked and unclean, and the ceiling had a multitude of water stains. Instead of the smell of an old gym sock, this employee area stank of grease, burned food, and a faint chemical odor that reminded Lincoln of the pink powder janitors used to throw over vomit at school.
“Has that door always been locked?” asked Lincoln.
“Ever since I started working here,” said the young man. “But I’ve only been here a few months.” Lincoln jotted down notes on his clipboard as the youth waited. After a moment the young man asked, “Can I go back to work?”
“Sure thing, Darryl,” said Lincoln, noting the young man’s nametag. “Thanks for your help.”
Darryl left them and headed back through the door that led to the Mediterranean restaurant.
“Wow, he even asked permission to go back to work like you were his boss,” said Darcy, amused by the young man’s reaction.
“Funny how that works, isn’t it? I’m telling you, a suit and a clipboard mixed with a little confidence will get you into just about anywhere.” He pointed back at the door they’d come through and said, “We’ll have to see if we can find out if that door always had a lock on it. I’m betting it did, which means Trent had to have access to this area somehow, or know someone who did.”
“Or he just came in here with a suit and a clipboard,” said Darcy jokingly.
“Trent doesn’t strike me as the sort of kid who liked suits. So, right off the bat we’re throwing a wrench in the prosecution’s timeline.”
“That’s because their timeline is garbage,” said Darcy.
“Don’t be so certain. We’re going to be impartial about this whether you like it or not. Let’s see where these doors lead.” He headed towards a set of double doors on the other side of the hallway. He pushed them open to reveal a fenced parking lot. “Here’s our exit. Do me a favor and go back over to the other door and then run here. I’ll time you. That way we don’t have to break in here again.”
Darcy did as he asked, and he timed her using a stopwatch on his phone. He noted how long it took, and then they went through the exit that led to the fenced lot. The employee parking area was beside several dumpsters, and the fence that surrounded the lot was tall and wooden. The lot was small, and the employees at the mall most likely weren’t given access except to smoke here, as evidenced by the pile of crushed butts on the blacktop beside a stool where people likely sat during their breaks. Lincoln theorized the parking spots were meant for a select few members of upper management. There were only two cars here, a sedan and a plain white van, parked beside one of the dumpsters. The gate was open, swung wide with a chain hanging loose off one side.
“If he had an accomplice, then maybe he got picked up here,” said Lincoln.
“Hey Dad, look.” Darcy pointed at a security camera up above the door they’d just exited. It was pointed straight down at them.
“Huh,” said Lincoln. “Maybe they installed that after the crime.”
“Maybe. According to Trent he used to come out here and do drugs with Grant. I doubt they had a camera here before then, otherwise Grant sure as hell wouldn’t come out here to deal.”
“We’re not sure Grant ever did deal drugs to Trent.”
Darcy looked at her father with a frown “Come on. Grant lied his butt off on t
he stand. You know that.”
“I don’t know anything, Darcy. I’m staying impartial.” Lincoln jotted down notes as he spoke. “Ready for our walk?”
“Sure. Do you know if there was any new construction between here and the middle school in the past decade?”
“I don’t know. We can get Hector to look into that, but it’s a pretty straight shot there. Even if there has been new construction, I don’t think it would’ve altered Trent’s path. And he probably went to the stream instead of the middle school, but we can check out both areas.”
The door to the mall swung violently open. A security guard whose girth tested his uniform’s elasticity came out to confront them. His bushy, greying eyebrows nearly met as he scowled. “Can I help you?”
“My name’s Lincoln Pierce.” He offered to shake the bewildered and angry guard’s hand.
The guard didn’t accept the gesture, and kept his short arms flat against his sides as he moved his jaw back and forth with his lips shut, as if he were mimicking a cow grinding food between his molars. He had small eyes that stayed focused on Lincoln as if the two were about to fight, and he flared his nostrils as he breathed. “Why’re you back here?”
Lincoln had to think fast to come up with a plausible answer that might also serve to earn the man’s trust. “I’m thinking about buying this place.”
The guard didn’t believe him, and looked suspiciously back and forth between Lincoln and Darcy. “You’re what?”
“I’m thinking of buying this mall, or one like it,” said Lincoln as he looked disapprovingly back and forth at the wall behind the guard, as if sizing up the place.
“Who are you?”
“Like I said, my name’s Lincoln Pierce.” He shook the surprised and confused guard’s hand before taking out a business card and handing it to him. “As you can see, I’m the owner and president of Landmark Development Industries. I didn’t catch your name.”
“James.”
“Good to meet you, James. So tell me, James, are you the head of security here?” Lincoln intentionally repeated the man’s name to help remember it, and also because it’s a well-known fact among salespeople that everyone loves the sound of their own name.
“I guess so.”
“You guess so? Well, James, I need people like you to help me out here.”
“Help you with what?”
“I took a walk around the property, and if I’m being honest,” he leaned in closer, as if sharing a secret he trusted James could keep, “I’m not so sure this place is a good investment. I’m thinking of buying an empty lot on the other side of town instead, but the problem with doing that is the cost of building everything from the ground up. Take the security system for example. I bet getting all these cameras cost a fortune to install. When were they put in?”
“I’m not sure,” said James, flustered. He believed Lincoln’s story about wanting to buy the mall, which made him nervous. “It was a while ago.”
“Were you working here when they were installed?”
“No.”
Lincoln frowned. “Are you new here?”
“No, sir. I’ve worked for Mr. Pettigrew for almost thirteen years.”
“Has Pettigrew mentioned anything about selling the mall?”
“No, not that I know of. But I don’t really talk to him that much these days. The last I heard he was trying to get the city to declare the mall…” James’s brow furrowed and he bit his lip as he tried to recall the details of the rumor. “Blighted, I think they said. Is that right?”
Lincoln nodded. “That’s right. They have to get it declared blighted before companies like mine can put a bid in to buy it. It’s all part of the legal hustle and bustle. When you get lawyers and city politicians together…” he shook his head and made a clicking sound with his tongue. “It’s amazing if they get anything done. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”
“Oh, sure,” said James, agreeing despite not knowing what it was like at all.
“If I was looking for someone to…” Lincoln raised his eyebrows and spoke cheekily, “Mind you this is just a friendly chat. I’m certainly not trying to scout new employees while they’re at work or anything. But, let’s just say I was looking for someone to help me put together a mall security system – a position that pays real well - would you be a good person to call? You know, for advice.”
James stuttered and was blinking rapidly as he stood a little straighter. “Yeah, uh, sure. I know my stuff.”
Lincoln went on to get James’ full name and number, and then hinted that he might call him soon. Before they left, James was treating Lincoln like a visiting dignitary, regaling him with tales about busting shoplifters and the rigors involved with security detail.
Lincoln and Darcy left the fenced portion of the parking lot and were headed out along the path that would take them to Betty and Devin’s middle school. Darcy snickered and shook her head. “I never knew you were such a good liar.”
“A liar?” asked Lincoln, humorously offended. “Me? Nah. As a matter of fact, the thought of owning my own mall went through my head once or twice in my life. I’m almost sure of it. That brings me to the second secret about getting anywhere you want and being treated like you belong there.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved a business card. He handed it to her and said, “A vague business card printed on high quality paper is better than a bribe.”
“How so?”
“It’s all about first impressions. If you have confidence and wear a nice suit, then people assume you’re important. Handing them a business card means you’re giving them entry to your financial success. It’s psychological. It’s their ticket into your world, and they’ll start to dream up fantasies about what you can do for them.”
“Or they’ll stick the card in their jeans and throw it out with the lint when they get home.”
“Sometimes, but not that one,” said Lincoln as he nodded his head back in the direction of the security guard. “He’ll keep that like a badge of honor. Trust me, I used to teach this sort of crap for a living. One of the things I’d talk about was first impressions, and how they can make or break you.”
“Are you going to call that guy and try to get more information about the case?”
“Maybe, but not just yet. He already gave us what we needed to know for the time being.”
“He did?”
“He said the security system’s been there longer than him, and he’s been there for thirteen years. That means it was here when the crime happened, and we know the mall provided the cops with video of Trent entering and exiting the building. That means either they intentionally hid the video of the employee lot, or it wasn’t recording that day.”
“All right, so what does that mean?”
“It means we need to learn more about Grant’s arrest. He got picked up for dealing drugs at the mall, just like Trent said. And if we’re to believe Trent, they used to go out to that lot and smoke dope. How in the world is that possible if the lot’s monitored? We weren’t back there for more than a couple minutes before James came out after us. How’s it possible that a couple teenagers were able to go back there and deal drugs? It doesn’t add up.”
“I don’t get it,” said Darcy. “What are you saying? Do you believe Trent or not?”
“Neither,” said Lincoln. “We’re not searching for answers yet. We’re still figuring out the right questions. Right now the question I can’t get out of my head is why that camera was turned off the day those kids disappeared.”