by Hinze, Vicki
Short minutes later Justin’s voice rang out. “HAZMAT is back on-site,” he informed them. “Elden’s safe-hatching the bag now. Estimated time of departure, two minutes.”
“Suspect is in the north parking garage,” Darcy’s voice sounded through Maggie’s earpiece. “She’s just entered a white, 2004 Honda Civic. Rental Tag,” she added, then reeled off the number.
Maggie spoke into the walkie-talkie. “Will, who’s handling that tag on the suspect in the parking garage?”
“Local police.”
“Do you have a visual?”
“Stand by, Maggie.” A pause, then Will added, “I have a visual now, yes.”
“Can you verify the identity of the officer?”
“I can, Maggie. Worked with him many times.”
“Okay, thanks.” She had to check. Kunz was too good at making substitutions, though never this soon into a mission, to not check. She headed back toward Center Court.
Justin caught up to her. “HAZMAT’s departed with the second bag.”
“Good.”
“Did they get her?”
Maggie nodded. “Local police are following her now.”
“Aren’t you going to pick her up and interrogate her?”
“No, S.A.S.S. doesn’t handle overt aspects on missions.”
“Ah, the unit secrecy thing.”
Maggie nodded, amused at watching him assimilate and put the pieces together and into place.
“Do you think maybe she’ll go back to their operations base, and we can stop this thing before it really starts?” He brushed a strand of hair back from Maggie’s face. “Wouldn’t that be great?”
Surprised by his touch, she stilled, her throat thick. Something hitched in her chest, left her a little breathless, which was ridiculous. It was an innocent touch. No more than that. “We can hope, but—”
“You doubt it.”
“Let’s just say that would be extremely atypical for Thomas Kunz. He never makes anything simple.”
“The man likes complexity, eh?”
“Historically, yes,” Maggie said. “His operations are always complex and multilayered—and dangerous and destructive.”
“Unfortunate.” Justin looked deeply into her eyes and his voice went soft. “And you have to deal with him all the time.”
“We all do. Sometimes the world sucks,” she said, repeating what he’d said about Simon witnessing his grandfather’s murder.
“Yeah, but then something good happens.” He looked her directly in the eye.
“Yeah.”
“Maggie,” Darcy interrupted. “Security just sent us an update on the first bagger.”
“Go ahead,” Maggie said, reluctantly shifting her attention.
“They’ve got his photo circulating and locals have issued an APB on him, but my guess is he’s long gone.”
“Figures. Keep me posted.”
Thirty minutes later at Providence, the lab called Maggie and reported its findings.
“That’s right, Captain Holt. Nothing. Not even finger or palm prints on the handle grips. As best we can tell, totally unused.”
“Both bags?” Disappointment arrowed through her, but no surprise. Clear gloves. That was the only explanation.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thanks.” Maggie closed her flip-phone, stuffed it back into her purse, and walked down to Center Court. The stores would be closing soon, and the Winter Wonderland crew would be coming in.
The reprieve from the shoppers and false alarms would be welcome. They’d had twenty-seven tonight alone. The day’s tally was over seventy, which was making Will and his staff totally nuts. Maggie had warned him that false alarms could anesthetize his staff. They needed to guard against it, remain diligent and not relax. She hoped they took what she said to heart.
All of the surveillance cameras were now in place and operational. The trash receptacles had been removed and put in storage. The rounds had been netted and the aromatherapy had been nixed. So far, so good.
But it was still early.
Darcy radioed Maggie on a private frequency. “More chatter from multiple sources has been feeding through Intel into the Threat Integration Center. Nothing any more specific than what we have, but new sources reporting the same thing on the same potential targets.”
Kunz was definitely going to hit someone. Somewhere. “Thanks.” Maggie rubbed at her neck, let her gaze drift down the steps into the pit.
“Maggie?” Darcy asked.
“Go ahead.”
“Providence police are reporting that the female shopper, Suspect Number Two, is about to cross the state line into Georgia. Do you want our guys to ask the state police in Georgia to intercept her?”
“Thank them for the offer, but we need the FBI on her, in case she’s involved in an attack. Felony charges. Have them pick up the tag, and see where she goes.”
“Truthfully, I doubt she’s going anywhere of interest,” Kate said.
“So do I, Kate,” Maggie said. “But I don’t know it. Until I know it, we’ve got no choice but to follow her.”
“She’s made a U-turn, Maggie.” Darcy relayed from the police. “She’s heading back south.”
“Did she cross the line into Georgia?”
“No, she didn’t.”
That limited their options. “Does she know she’s being tailed?”
A moment lapsed while Darcy relayed the question, then she answered. “No evidence of it. They’ve switched off teams three times.”
“Let’s stick with observation, then,” Maggie decided, hoping she wasn’t making a colossal mistake. There had to be a reason for these abandoned bags. Kunz never did anything without a reason.
“Damn it,” Darcy said. “Unauthorized entry. Level One, Door One. Male. Twenty-five, 5’10”, 165 pounds. Blond ponytail, navy sweater, gray slacks. Suspect entered the facility with—you guessed it—a handled Krane’s shopping bag and ditched it immediately near the Tot Shop. Repeat. Unauthorized entry. Level One, Door One…”
Maggie took off in a full run toward the main entrance, wishing already she had those Rollerblades.
There were no further incidents before the mall closed to shoppers for the night.
Justin oversaw the prepositioning of the boxes of antidote vials at strategic locations on all three levels of the mall, and ordered the undercover medical personnel manning them to never leave their stations unguarded.
Will Stanton had all his security forces assembled in the administrator’s auditorium, briefing them on things to watch for, to guard against and procedures to follow in case various abnormalities occurred.
Daniel Barone walked the premises with Maggie. Now that the mall was empty of shoppers, their footsteps echoed on the tile. She gave him an update on everything done, or about to be done, in the way of extra personnel, cameras and observation stations.
“What about the woman?” he asked.
“What woman?” Maggie hadn’t briefed him on the shopper who’d been tracked to just this side of the state line, back to the mall, then to a hotel three blocks away.
“The female shopper with the Krane’s bag?”
Will Stanton? Had he told Barone? “Dead end,” she said, more from instinct than because she had reason to withhold specifics. Though it broke her rule to ask a question she couldn’t already answer, she had to do it. “How did you know about her?”
“I know everything that goes on in my facility, Captain.”
“Mr. Barone, I don’t wish to be rude, but I don’t have the time or patience for glib responses. How did you know about the shopper?”
“A security staff member told me, which you should have done yourself, Captain.”
“Had it been significant, I would have,” she countered.
“I’ll judge what is significant.”
“Uh, no. No, you won’t. Because if I briefed you on all I know that’s insignificant, it’ll take roughly three weeks of daily, sixteen-hour briefings.” Sh
e looked him over, wordlessly saying he wasn’t up to the work. “Which member of Will’s staff informed you of the shopper?”
He paused, then grunted. “Unfortunately, I don’t recall.” He shrugged. “I’ve spoken to a number of people who’ve mentioned it and I’m no longer certain who first spoke of it.”
“Understandable,” she said, knowing he was lying through his teeth to protect his source. “Once the first male bagger disappeared off the monitor, he wasn’t seen again.”
“And the third male?”
“Under surveillance by authorities outside the facility.”
“Maggie?” Justin’s voice came in through her earpiece. “When you have a second, I need you up on Level Three.”
“On my way.” She smiled at Barone. “Sorry, you’ll have to excuse me. Duty calls.”
He nodded and silently walked back toward his office in the administration wing.
That silence bothered her. It didn’t seem to fit Barone’s need to micromanage every detail. If running true to form, wouldn’t he be scouting the facility, offering reassurance, soothing jittery nerves, insinuating himself?
He would.
Maggie made a decision. “Darcy, put someone on Barone. Dr. Cabot’s watch signs are evident.”
“Should I pull Kate or—”
“No. No, low visibility.” Maggie remembered a woman on Will’s staff that appeared about as threatening as a marshmallow. “Judy Meyer,” Maggie said. Barone would ignore her.
“I’ll notify Will.”
“Don’t be specific. Just say I need to borrow her for a bit.”
“Right.”
Maggie took the escalator, headed up to Level Three. Between the second and third floors, she followed an internal nudge, unclipped her walkie-talkie and paged Will.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Will, did you mention the female shopper we tagged to Barone?”
“No, ma’am. But he caught a member of my staff, and he told him.”
Unfortunate. Why, Maggie wasn’t yet sure. But her instincts had warned her several times to be wary of Barone, and they were honed. Confident the truth would reveal itself eventually, she paid attention. “So Barone knows we’re watching her?”
“No, ma’am,” Will said. “Actually, he doesn’t. I didn’t share that information with my staff.”
Good. Good. “I’d rather you not.” Would Will agree without her giving him specific reasons?
He hesitated a second, then came back. “Let’s keep it simple, Maggie. Barone’s a hell of a manager. No one denies it. But if we let him, he’ll drive us crazy on every detail. I vote we don’t. His intentions might be good, but his tactics could sidetrack us. We can’t afford to get bogged down. We could miss something important. With that in mind, I’m making a little policy adjustment. If you want something passed on, you say so. Otherwise, what I’m told is for my ears only.”
Strong instincts. “Reasonable policy, Will.” She had to admit that his positive comments about Barone’s skills as a manager helped to ease her mind about the man, yet her wariness on possibly dealing with a double persisted. Will Stanton had proven he had a keen sense about people, and he clearly had the ability to cull the unessential so it didn’t cloud the necessary. She was lucky to have him on her team.
“Maggie,” he said, again stilted and hesitant. “People entering the mall with these empty bags are really bothering me. I’ve run Security at Santa Bella for over five years, and I can’t say I’ve never seen people come into the mall with empty bags, but seeing three back-to-back and abandoned in one day like we saw today…”
“With the holidays, the stores are busier than usual.” She looked down over the escalator rail. Nothing snagged her attention.
“True.” He conceded, but let out a frustrated sigh that crackled static through the walkie-talkie. “Still, it just doesn’t sit right.”
“I know what you mean.” She had the same feeling. A little whisper, as persistent as an itch, nagged at her. But she couldn’t yet make out the words. Diversionary tactics? Signals? Warnings? Target area alerts?
“I’m not sure if the terrorists are testing us to see what we pick up, or just distracting us.”
“Could be either or neither, Will. We just have to follow through and narrow the possibilities with what happens. We can’t risk letting anything pass, and we’re not distracted. That’s the good news.” They were hyperalert and intensely aware. It was the best they could do.
“Right,” he agreed. “Every staff member on duty knows that one screw-up and this could be our last night alive—and a lot of others could die with us,” he said.
Heaviness settled on Maggie’s shoulders, spreading through her chest. “Make sure they keep remembering that, Will. If they attack Santa Bella, they will be seeking high casualties. Factoring that in, everything we do is our best defense weapon.”
“You got it.”
On Level Three, Maggie stepped off the escalator. Justin stood halfway down the thoroughfare near a round.
“No net,” he said as she approached. “All the rounds have been netted, except this one.”
She brought up Will on the walkie-talkie and disclosed the problem.
“That’s not possible. I checked them all myself not more than an hour ago. That round was netted, Maggie.”
This wasn’t good news. “Well, it’s not netted now.”
“Do you want me to send someone from Maintenance up to take care of it?”
“No.” Maggie absorbed Justin’s surprised look and held his gaze. “Send a security staff member instead. One you can spare awhile to stand watch.”
“I’m on it.”
“Maggie, what are you doing?” Justin asked.
She stepped close, looked up at him. “Trust me. I want to see why the net was removed, and hopefully who removed it.”
“I see now,” he said in a quiet voice.
She turned away. Considering it was her job and not personal, he should have known she’d have a valid reason for her actions.
“It’s hard to give what you don’t receive, Maggie.”
Touché. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “If trusting was easy, it’d have no value.”
A thin man about thirty with teen-acne scars pitting his face joined them. “Captain, I’m Donald Freeman. Chief Stanton said I should report to you for further instructions.”
“The netting has been removed from this flower round by parties unknown, Donald. We need to know who did it, and why.” Maggie looked around for a good observation post. “See that alcove?”
“Between Grimes and Stokes?”
“Yes.” She read the signs on the store windows. “I want you to post watch from there and if anyone comes to this round, or appears to be putting something in it, report it to me immediately.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Donald, I mean anyone,” she reiterated. When he sent her a blank look, she added, “That includes your coworkers, your boss, and even Mr. Barone. Are you clear?”
“Absolutely clear.” Stern-faced, he lumbered over to the alcove.
“This round being tampered with worries me.” Justin looked at Maggie. “The implication is unnerving.”
It was. “Darcy?” she said.
“Yeah, Maggie?”
“Call in Colonel Drake.”
Moments later Darcy said, “She’s here with me now.”
“Colonel, this internal tampering has me leaning toward Kunz having GRID members or some mall or store employee on his payroll.” That missing net was an indicator too significant to ignore.
“I agree, Maggie.”
“What’s the latest intel on the other potential targets?”
“Mandatory status reports only, Maggie. No unusual activity recorded at any of the other facilities.”
A cold chill swept through her. It appeared Kunz had selected his target.
Santa Bella.
Maggie coordinated with the owners, checked the facility
inside and out, made sure the cameras were working and the scent-emitters were not. Darcy assisted her, matching names to key personnel still in the facility, making preparations for the big sales day tomorrow.
At 2:00 a.m., Justin radioed her from Level One. “Maggie?”
“Yes?” She was tired, but not exhausted. Adrenaline had kicked in on the concern about Barone and Kunz having an insider working here. It was still pumping through her veins at warp speed.
“Can you meet me on Level One at Center Court?”
“Sure.” Up on Level Three, she judged the distance between the stairs, elevator and escalator for the quickest way down. The stairs won.
On Level One, Justin was sitting at a table under the overhang, near the counter where people ordered food. He hadn’t yet seen her and she had the rare privilege of observing him unguarded. His head back, his chin up, he stretched, rustling his parka. A slow burn heated low in her belly. Very attractive man.
He caught sight of her and for a swift second delight shone in his eyes, then his protective shields slid back into place.
Phil, Harry and the snow crew were building the snow base inside the pit. The echoes of hammering and voices carried over to her. “What’s up?”
“I thought you could use a cup of coffee.” He stood, waited until she was seated, then sat back down. “With cream.”
“You constantly surprise me, Justin.” Across the pit, Amanda stood watching the crew. Mark was to her right, Kate to her left. All four sides of Center Court were covered. In Maggie’s opinion, this area ranked the most vulnerable to attack in the entire facility. And Darcy considered the snow crew high-risk because time had precluded her from investigating and verifying anything beyond the topical in their background checks. “I can’t believe you remembered how I like my coffee.”
“It’s a curse,” Justin said, trying to sound serious. His smile betrayed him.
She curled her fingers around her cup. “It’s charming.”
Justin looked pleased, but shifted the subject. “This entire experience has been illuminating in so many ways. You’re very good at your job, Maggie. You probably already know that, but it’s something that should be said now and then, so you don’t forget it.”