“Contact your local blogger,” Eric said dryly. “The situation will be all over the Internet in minutes.”
“And no one will take responsibility for starting a panic,” Harold said quietly. “But I don’t know that we have a choice.”
“What are Lex and Heather doing?” Eric asked.
“I ran into them down in personnel. Lex wanted to go through the list of employees at the mall. Heather was going to talk to some of the shop owners about their staffers. I haven’t seen either of them in the past hour. Lex did say that it was an all-day job. He’s taken two of the assistants from the administration office to help him. Come hell or high water, there’s always paperwork, right?”
In a warm, two-story colonial home about two miles from Timberwoods, the spirit of Christmas was evidenced by the aroma of cookies baking and children decorating a tree. The wall phone in the kitchen jangled and an attractive brunette left her baking to answer it.
“Cheryl, this is Mary,” said the voice at the other end of the line. “Listen, I hate to do this, but I can’t go with you to the mall tonight. I have to take Mack to the airport, and it’ll be too late when I get back.”
“No problem. I want to take Sirena to the vet.” Cheryl’s glance fell on the tiny Yorkshire terrier that had been a birthday present from her husband, Al. “She’s having trouble with one of her ears. When do you want to go then?”
“How about Thursday? I can make it for the whole day and into the evening if you want. My mother is taking the kids after school. Why don’t you send your kids over there, too? Mom is filling stockings and making popcorn balls for the community day care center. The kids can all help. She’ll give them dinner and we can pick them up when we finish shopping. What do you think?”
Cheryl smiled. Mary was a live wire, a small, compact woman with bright red hair and a perpetual elfin quality. Aside from being quick and sharp, she had a heart of gold. “Great idea,” she said. “That’ll give me an extra day to see if I can wrangle some money out of my darling husband. Is this lunch and dinner?”
“Let’s put it this way—I have twenty dollars in cash. I have to buy a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread. What’s left over is for lunch and dinner. I was planning on using plastic.”
“You and me both. Can’t get through the holidays without credit cards. By the way, where are we going?”
“What do you mean, where are we going? We only have one place to shop—Timberwoods.”
“That place makes me nervous. They had a bomb scare over there the other day.”
“That’s nothing new,” Mary said airily. “Maybe it’s a disgruntled customer or something. Hell, I haven’t figured out how to get in and out of there yet. Every time I go over there I get lost and have to walk five miles to my car.”
“That’s just it,” Cheryl complained. “I can never find the exits, either. That place is overwhelming. Too big and too many people.”
“You’ve got two choices: Timberwoods or the huge discount store out on the highway—”
“Which is a nightmare,” Cheryl interrupted. “Let’s hit the mall. But I’m staying on one level and I’m making sure I know where all the exits are.”
“You’re nuts,” Mary complained. “I have some store gift cards I want to use, and store charge accounts. How can we stay on one level?”
“Use your credit card, then you can shop anywhere,” Cheryl answered snidely.
“My main one is up to its limit,” Mary said. “But I haven’t used the ones for the individual stores yet. I must have five or six of those. You can never have enough charge cards!” She laughed.
“I wish you’d try telling that to the husband. When I tell him, somehow it loses something in the translation.”
“You worry too much. We have the whole year to pay it off. Think of the fun we’re going to have. No kids, lunch and dinner out, and a dozen or more charge cards between us. Do you have any cash?” Mary asked craftily.
“Nope. You’ll have to buy me lunch. I’ll skip dinner.”
“You’re lying, Cheryl, I can tell. Or else you’re trying to sidetrack me. How much money do you have?”
“Okay, so I won fifty dollars at bingo.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Mary screeched. “You’re buying lunch and dinner.”
“I knew I’d never be able to keep it to myself,” Cheryl grumbled.
“We’ll buy the Jordan almonds for Susie’s wedding favors with my money, and we’ll eat with yours. We’ll even buy some of that peanut butter fudge you like so much. You know how hungry you get when we’re traipsing around all day.”
“Just what I need,” Cheryl mourned, looking down at her more than ample figure. “I can eat my weight in Jordan almonds and peanut butter fudge.”
“Shall we get spiffed up or go in our regular clothes?”
“If you mean those worn-out jeans and sneakers you wear, we’d better get dressed up. If I’m taking you to lunch and dinner, I don’t want you to look tacky,” Cheryl said tartly.
“Smart-ass. Fifty bucks, huh?”
“So, all right, it was seventy-five. I spent twenty-five dollars.”
“I knew it, I knew it!” Mary yelled. “Nobody wins just fifty bucks at bingo. I’m glad you told me. You’re all heart, Cheryl.”
“I hope I still feel that way after I’ve fed you. See you Thursday.”
Angela happened to spot Charlie as he was heading for the restrooms and stopped him. “Hey! Where have you been? Why haven’t you answered your phone? I’ve been calling you for days. I wanted to—”
Her barrage of questions seemed to startle him. His plain features contorted with anger. The sight made her wonder again why on earth she’d found herself drawn to him in the first place—and trusted him enough to sleep under his roof.
Then, he had been nothing but kind to her.
Now . . . she had to try to get him to talk to her, for reasons that weren’t clear to her. Then again, nothing was clear after she had been put into a hypnotic state by Dr. Noel Dayton. He’d said she was safe; he’d said she would awaken. Neither seemed precisely true. A sense of foreboding, stronger than all the rest, assailed her as she looked into Charlie’s eyes.
“Get out of my way!” Charlie cut her off rudely and pushed past her.
“No, Charlie, wait.” Angela grabbed his arm and held on to him. “At least give me a chance to explain what happened. Once you hear, you’ll understand—”
“Nothing you can say will change my mind.” Charlie stared at her with cold, malevolent eyes. “You ruined everything, Angela. We were going to have such a wonderful Christmas, and you blew it. To hell with you. You’re just like all the rest of them. I never should have taken you in, for starters. You’re a user.”
“I’ll follow you into the men’s room if I have to, Charlie,” Angela threatened. “So you’d better listen to me. Besides, there’s something even more important that I have to tell you—this mall is gonna blow up. I don’t know when. I just know it will. You have to get out of here, Charlie.
“Please, I beg you. You’ve got to get out!”
He wasn’t listening to her, she could tell. He was too angry to hear a word she was saying. When she met his gaze, she was taken aback. She had never seen such hatred in a person’s eyes in her life. Short of getting down on her knees and begging him, there was nothing else she could do. His face was grayish white as he stared at her, and his eyes hadn’t blinked once. That frightened her more than his stony silence.
Angela looked at him, feeling like a wounded animal, mute and hurt. Then she walked away. What was the use? He was too angry to listen to anything she had to say, even when what she was saying was meant to save his life. She pushed through the double-door exit and went back outside.
She stamped her feet and rubbed her numb hands together as she tried to keep warm. What was she doing here, anyway? People were avoiding her as if she had the plague. The few people she had managed to talk to laughed at her. One of them had cal
led her a cokehead. Well, what had she expected? You couldn’t just go up to people and tell them not to go into the mall without giving them a reason why. Obviously they all thought she was crazy. All she could do was tell them that something was going to happen. Secretly she was surprised that the police hadn’t come for her. She knew the security guard had reported her after one of the customers had pointed her out to him.
There was a lull in pedestrian traffic, and Angela huddled up against the cold. She didn’t know which was worse—the freezing temperatures or the cold she had felt inside ever since that afternoon when Dr. Noel Dayton had hypnotized her. He had played the tape of her own voice back to her.
It sounded as if she had become someone else, someone she didn’t know. The thought was terrifying.
If she was ever going to do anything, she had to do it now! Believing wasn’t enough. Somebody had to do something! Starting with herself. She shivered violently. And if that wasn’t bad enough, now she had Charlie to worry about.
“Angela, honey, what are you doing out here in the cold? Do you know it’s only eighteen degrees?” Murray Steinhart put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders.
Angela stiffened at the physical contact and tried to draw away from him. Run, her mind screamed, run!
“Daddy, what are you doing here? Look, I have to go now,” she said, jerking her arm away from him.
“Angela, please, I’m not here to make you come with me. I just want to talk to you. Let’s get some coffee. My word on it, no one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. All I want is to talk to you. I know it’s a little late . . . it’s a lot late . . . but I’m here now to help you any way I can.”
“Oh, Daddy, I’m so glad,” Angela cried, wrapping her arms around her father, tears streaming down her thin cheeks. “I’m so glad!”
“Me too, Angel,” Murray said huskily. “Let’s go get that coffee before we both freeze to death.”
Angela, the coffee mug cupped in her cold hands, stared at her father. “I don’t know what to do. I did everything I could think of. I even let Dr. Dayton hypnotize me. He said it helped, but I don’t know how. They won’t close the mall, Daddy. I keep coming back here, hoping I’ll think of some way to stop it. But . . .”
“I know,” Murray said wearily, rubbing his eyes, “I understand. I’ll stay here with you. Your mother went—”
“Don’t, Daddy. I understand, I really do. I don’t want to talk about Mother. I’m so glad you’re here. Boy, you don’t know how glad.” She smiled.
“You know something, Angel—I’m glad, too.” Murray sounded surprised, even to himself. “Real glad,” he repeated softly. “Whatever happens, you can’t blame yourself. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know.”
“What you said a moment ago, about coming back here—is it the mall itself that draws you or someone in the mall?”
Angela replaced the coffee mug on the table. “What did you just say, Daddy?” Her pinched, narrow face looked stunned.
“I said,” he repeated quietly, “is it the mall or someone in the mall that keeps bringing you back here?”
She stared at him, thinking. “That’s it,” she said suddenly. “It isn’t the mall.” She slapped her forehead. “God, how could I have been so stupid? Of course. It’s someone I know here that’s responsible. That’s why it can’t be stopped and why the vision is going to come true. It’s a person.”
Murray felt real fear for the first time in his life, gut fear. Somehow he had always believed in his daughter’s visions, even though he had never let the belief surface until now. “Okay,” he said, more calmly than he felt. “We’ve established that it’s a person. Let’s run down your list. Who do you know that you feel is capable of blowing up a mall and killing thousands of innocent people?”
“Daddy, I don’t have a list. I know some kids from college who work here. There are a lot of freaks and a lot of straights. I know a few of the mall personnel, some of the security people, the Santa Claus and a few of his elves. There’s no way I could pick out anyone and say that he or she is the one.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Murray said. “You come back to my motel with me, and we’ll spend the evening making a list, one by one, together. Maybe we’ll come up with something. How’s that sound?”
“Good,” Angela said.
Maria Andretti woke from her nap, her face more flushed than usual. Feebly she tried to kick off the covers. She wanted a drink. She felt too hot, like in the summertime when she lay on the beach and there was no shade. “Mommy,” she cried weakly.
“I’m right here, honey. I’ll get you some juice and then you rest.”
“Will you open the drapes? I want to look out. Is it nice today?”
“Very nice, but very cold.”
“Mommy, you promised to . . .”
“I know, honey, and I talked to Dr. Tucker. We’re watching the temperature very closely. As soon as it’s warmer, we’re going to take you over to the mall. But first we have to make this pesky fever of yours go away. I’m going to rub you down with a cool washcloth as soon as you’ve drunk this juice. That’ll make you feel better.”
Maria gazed out of the window across the highway to the mall. She couldn’t see very well. Yesterday she had been able to see right to the roof of the shopping center. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. She still couldn’t see across the highway. Maybe it was the fever. After Mommy helped her cool off, she might be able to see better. When was she going to get well? When would the doctor let her get out of bed so she could play with her brothers and sisters? When was she going to be able to go back to school? She missed all her friends and the teacher.
“I just have to get better, I have to!” Maria cried, burying her face in her pillow.
Charlie Roman walked nervously up and down the mall. From time to time he handed out a candy cane and a coloring book. Every so often he uttered a hoarse “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
He couldn’t remember ever being so furious in his whole life. Did she have to come to the mall? Why did she have to pour salt into his open wound? Wasn’t her blatant rejection of him enough? Was this the way she got her kicks? And to think he’d ever thought she was a special person. She wasn’t like the rest of them, she was worse. She had used him and then betrayed him. It struck him as almost funny that she’d warned him about the mall blowing up. What would she think if she knew he was the one who was going to make it blow? He’d show her. He’d show them all.
He had to get back up on the roof. He had to! The maintenance men had been up there since early this morning, clearing away the snow. Tomorrow the weatherman predicted that the temperature would be going up, and Miguel, one of the maintenance crew, had told Charlie they were going to continue patching the roof if he could find the missing propane tank.
The tank was an integral component of his device. That, plus jury-rigged machinery, a timer, and the mall’s own HVAC system were what it would take.
Perspiration beaded Charlie’s forehead when he thought of what could happen if someone put two and two together. Miguel had complained to Dolph Richards about the missing propane tank, but the manager had ignored him. Now, with the predicted rise in temperature, the roof would start leaking again and it would be all systems go. Someone was sure to mention the missing tank then. Charlie had heard Miguel say that the crew was waiting for the deliveryman to come around to check how many tanks he had delivered. Because of the cold, the demand for bottled gas had increased, and the supplier was two days behind schedule. Many houses in the outlying areas needed propane for their stoves, and the deliveryman had stated that his residential customers came first. Besides, he was insisting that he had delivered four tanks, not the three that remained. According to Miguel, he refused to consider there might have been a mistake.
Charlie had heard that there wasn’t that much snow on the roof; the snowblowers had made quick work of it. So what was taking so long? Surely they couldn’t be working up there on anythin
g else. Maybe he had missed them somehow. If only he could think of a way to get one of the crew down here, or manufacture a reason for him to go up.
Charlie’s body was bathed in sweat beneath the heavy red velvet suit, and the Santa beard was almost more than he could bear. He pressed the tiny button on his digital watch and noted the time. Conceivably he could take a break, but where and what would he do?
“Charlie, is that you?” Harry Skyer answered his own question, peering into Charlie’s startled eyes. “Thought so. Doing walk-arounds now, huh? Have you seen Ramon?” he asked, tapping him on the shoulder. “It’s time to change the sale banner on the billboard by the roof, and he isn’t here. Do you think that on your way downstairs you could tell him to come up? I’ve called up there, but they’re not answering.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Skyer,” Charlie said hoarsely.
“That’s some cold you have there, Charlie. I didn’t think Santa ever got sick,” the store owner joked.
“Sounds worse than it is,” Charlie said agreeably. “I’ll get Ramon for you.”
How could he be so lucky? Quickly the big man walked to the escalator and rounded the corner. His breathing was ragged as he bolted through the exit door leading to the roof. He could pretend that he didn’t know where Ramon was, and that would explain why he was up on the roof.
Halfway up the long flight of stairs, he had to stop and rest. Instead of feeling better from all the medicine he was taking, he was feeling worse. His chest felt as though it were on fire, and he could barely swallow.
Christmas At Timberwoods Page 19