by Hinze, Vicki
The man who knew nothing about anything and now seemed to want it that way, but at first had insisted on knowing everything about everything.
Behavior consistent only with that of a body double.
Someone rapped on the rest room door.
Maggie opened it to a tall, male, security staff member. “Oh, Marty. Good. Glad it’s you.” She was relieved to see someone she knew. “Stand guard right outside this door until Will gets down here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“No one, I mean no one, goes inside until HAZMAT arrives and removes the bag. When they give the all-clear, the rest room can be opened again, but you don’t leave for any reason. Got it?”
“Yes, Captain.”
Maggie strode through the thoroughfare to Barone’s office, breezed right past a stunned Linda Diel and opened the door to Barone’s private office. It was empty. She turned back to Linda. “Have you seen Judy Meyer?”
Seated at her desk, Linda sent Maggie a wide-eyed look. “She’d never be in Mr. Barone’s office.”
“I’m looking for him, too,” Maggie said. “Judy?” she prodded.
“About a half hour ago, she was in the women’s rest room, down the hall.”
“But you haven’t seen her since then?”
“No, I haven’t. Why? What’s wrong?” Linda straightened. “Oh, God. Has it started?”
“We’re okay. Don’t panic on me, Linda.” Maggie ignored the question and nodded toward Barone’s office door. Was he still hiding out under a do-not-disturb order? “Where is he?”
“You know, Captain, I don’t have a clue.” Linda set her jaw. “Can you believe it?”
Maggie walked over to the desk. Her feet were throbbing. To give them a break, she planted her hip on the corner of the desk, then leaned toward Linda. “No, I can’t.” His behavior seemed odd to Maggie, but was it to Linda? She knew him far better. “Does he always react oddly to danger?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “We’ve never been in danger before.” She rolled her eyes. “Maybe he’s still at dinner. That was the last I heard anyway. He’s not checking in today as he usually does, and he left over two hours ago. He could be anywhere now.”
“Did he tell you where he was dining?”
“No, but he never does.” Her elbow on her desk, she propped her chin on her hand. “He really values his privacy.”
“Today, no one has privacy.” A spike of anger stabbed into Maggie’s stomach and spread through her chest.
“For what it’s worth, I agree no one should, but apparently Mr. Barone does, even today.” Linda clearly resented his not keeping her informed on his whereabouts.
“I’m sorry if I was abrasive earlier, Linda,” Maggie said. “I’ve got my hands full and I’m in a hurry.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it.” She sighed. “People who come in here are always abrasive. I get the complaints Customer Service can’t handle. Mr. Barone gets the praise.” She added a knowing look. “Besides, everyone’s out of sorts today. It’s scary as hell, being here.” Admiration burned in her eyes. “I don’t know how you do this, Maggie.”
Sometimes, when she thought about what it cost, neither did she. That’s what confused her so much about Justin. She really liked his calmness. Just being with him soothed her. He was smart, quick, easy on the eye and calm—and if she got too close to him, she’d destroy that, too. Just as she had with Jack.
Her job was her job. It’d cost her Jack and, given the opportunity, it’d cost her Justin—or any other man she dared to find interesting. Though Justin was definitely worth the effort and the risks, she just didn’t think she could live through another broken heart. “It’s my job,” she told Linda, then pointed to Barone’s door. “Let me know as soon as he gets back, okay?”
“Sure. I’ll notify you right away.”
“Thanks.” Maggie walked out of the office and heard Linda mutter, “God, please just let this day be over.”
Maggie couldn’t agree more.
Reports started pouring in from Justin, Will and the others. When enough reports had been received citing everything seemed all right, and everyone, except Judy Meyer, was in position and on alert, some of the strain ebbed out of Maggie’s shoulders.
She honestly didn’t know whether to hope Judy was found or to hope that she wasn’t. All stations were searching their sectors and Will had dedicated two men to locating her. Locals and FBI were on watch. Maggie hoped hard and doubted seriously all of that would be enough to assure her safety. If Kunz was involved, Judy could have been removed from the facility and the local area. She could be dead or alive.
“Not to sound bitchy,” Kate said to no one in particular, “but if we’re all ready and watching and on high-alert, then why do these unexpected incidents keep happening to us?”
“Because we have to be right all the time,” Maggie said. “They only have to be right once. Just once. And they already know what they intend to do. We have to figure it out.”
Maggie took the corner by Macy’s and headed up to check on the forensics team in the short-stack. “Darcy, the locals are in position, as well, correct?”
“Absolutely.”
The snow pit was crammed with kids and grown men pretending they were kids. Under other conditions, Maggie would’ve stopped and just enjoyed watching them play. Instead she headed for the escalator. She scanned the whole way up, spotting Amanda and Kate. Mark Cross was back from dinner and in position near the stage. He was smiling, but anyone who knew him, knew he wasn’t missing a thing going on in his sector. Hell, he’d know half the kids by name in fifteen minutes. That was S.A.S.S.’s blessing and likely often Mark’s curse.
Maggie stepped off the escalator on Level Three and stopped to check on Donald Freeman. “Anything?”
He sipped from a steaming cup of coffee. “Not really, Captain Holt. Though, since the new netting’s been put on, several people have tossed gum wrappers and trash into the round.” He shrugged. “Have to expect it, I guess, with no trash cans around. The net has grabbed it all, so far.” He hurriedly added, “I’ve watched it fall, ma’am, so I’m sure nothing has slipped through.”
“Excellent. I appreciate your diligence, Donald.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She nodded and grabbed her walkie-talkie. “Will, we need a special staff member from Maintenance at Donald’s round.” Donald lifted his chin, jutted his chest, clearly liking the “his round” reference.
“Specific instructions?”
Good. He hadn’t missed her “special” staff request. Being certain Kunz’s people were in the facility required them all to be a bit more cryptic in their transmissions, though not so much so that they sacrificed clarity. Odds were good that Kunz was intercepting all the walkie-talkie communications. Maybe some S.A.S.S. ones, too, though they would be significantly more difficult for him. “Yes,” she said, considering specific instructions prudent. “Sterile.” That would gain them gloves, a new plastic evidence bag, and assure them that nothing from anywhere else in the facility would be added to this evidence bag to contaminate what was gathered there.
“Suspicious, Maggie?”
He meant to determine if she suspected biological contamination. “No, but we can’t take chances.” Someone had removed the original netting for a specific reason. And until she determined why, she had to exercise extra caution.
“Got it.”
She nodded at Donald. “Thanks.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His smile transformed his face.
Maggie went on to Level Three’s short-stack.
A burly guard with a pit-bull face blocked the door. “No entry, ma’am. Sorry. Captain Holt’s orders.”
“I am Captain Holt, Sergeant,” she said, reading his rank and half expecting him to card her before accepting her identity as positive.
Surprise and then recognition crossed his face. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You look different out of uniform.” He stepped aside. “Go ahead.”
“No problem.” She nodded. “Who’s in charge?”
“Lieutenant Lester Pinnella, ma’am.”
“Thanks.” She walked inside. The short-stack looked totally different, and far less ominous, flooded with light. Halogen spotlights had been set up everywhere. A guy wearing a black jacket with CSI stamped on its back was bent double to the floor, dusting an area with white powder. “Lester Pinnella?” Maggie asked.
He looked up, then around. “Over there, Captain.” Clearly recognizing her, he pointed to the center of three men standing near the slatted opening.
Hearing his name, Pinnella turned and watched Maggie approach. His hair was thin on top and graying, and his round face was clean-shaven. Pushing sixty, she figured, and judging by his weathered skin, he’d spent many of them out in the sun. Many men in the local area did. It was the lure of the Gulf of Mexico and fabulous fishing, Maggie guessed, and only in the last couple years had the sunscreen warnings kicked in and become real to them. She extended her hand. “Maggie Holt,” she said. “How’s it going?”
“I wish I had something positive to report, but we’ve been over nearly every inch of this place and we haven’t found anything I can say definitively will help you.”
“What about prints?” There should be a million of them.
“We’ve got a lot of them, particularly outside the secret room. But damn few inside it, as you’d expect. We’re running those first in the mobile unit outside. So far, no report of any unexpected ones turning up.”
“Predictable, but disappointing,” she admitted.
“For us, too,” he said, well aware of what was at stake. “I’ll keep you posted.”
Maggie needed a fresh eye and mind. “Lester, walk through this with me, will you?”
“Sure.”
“Two people were in here,” Maggie said. “Both were attacked. Neither attacked the other—we know that for fact.”
“Then there had to be a third person in here.”
She nodded. “One did report hearing the retreating footfalls of a third person. The second was verified already down at that point. The two victims left the short-stack together. No one entered or exited between then and the time you arrived. And yet, when the short-stack was unsealed, you found no one inside.” He hadn’t told her that. “That supposition is correct, yes? The short-stack was empty when you and your team entered?”
“It was empty.” Lester confirmed it with his voice and a nod.
“And there is no other way in or out, just the one secure door, correct?”
“That’s all we’ve found,” he said, scratching his neck. “But that slat grants me pause, Maggie. If it hadn’t been specifically pointed out to us, we might not have found it.”
“Same here,” she admitted, appreciating his honesty. She’d picked up on its location from the dome because of the window. Not by anything she had seen on the inside. Even with her fingertips, that minute groove had been almost imperceptible. “It’s a professional joint, all right.”
“Yes, it is.” His eyes turned serious. “Only a master craftsman could make a joint like that.”
Maggie noted that observation, then shook her head. “Damn it, Lester. Someone else had to be in here. It’s the only possible explanation.”
“Where?” He looked around, not taking her doubt personally.
Maggie looked, too, but saw nothing except small, stacked boxes, light fixtures and sprinkler heads. “I don’t know, damn it. I just don’t know.”
“Frustrating, to be sure.” Lester reached into his pocket and pulled out a toothpick. “But it was just my team in here, Maggie,” he insisted, and pulled the toothpick from his mouth. “And Ms. Diel, of course.”
Surprise streaked up Maggie’s back. “Linda Diel?”
He nodded. “She escorted us up and handled the security code to let us in.”
Deflated, Maggie nodded. Of course Barone would insist a mall employee handle the codes. “Well, that’s it, then. We’re out of possibilities.”
“Sorry.”
“Me, too.” There had to be something else. Had to be. She needed time alone to think. “Let me know if you hit on anything, Lester. And make sure only people on your team enter the short-stack.”
“Sure thing,” Lester said, turning to a man approaching him with an evidence bag. He took the bag and signed off on its seal. “Go ahead and take it down to the van,” Lester told the man, then passed the bag back.
What Lester had said hit Maggie and she clasped his arm. “Lester.”
He blinked hard. “Yes?”
“You said you wouldn’t have found the slatted door if it hadn’t been pointed out to you.” Maggie tried not to hang too much hope on him. “Who pointed it out to you?” Linda Diel? If so, then she had to have known the door was there before today.
“Mr. Barone.”
“Barone?” But he’d been missing in action for hours. “So he was with Linda when she opened the door for your team?”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“Then he came in later, after the team was already at work, preparing the scene?”
Lester shrugged. “Actually, I’m not sure exactly when he came in.”
“It’s okay.” Darcy could verify that for Maggie. “Thanks, Lester.” She walked away and made a mental note to ask Barone about the secret room. He certainly couldn’t deny knowing it existed. Not under these circumstances.
“Darcy, any ideas? I’m tapped out.”
“Nothing, Maggie.”
“Barone had to already be inside when Linda opened the door for the CSI,” Kate insisted. “Had to be.”
“I’m with Kate,” Amanda said. “Could he have been hiding inside the boxes?”
“They’re way too small,” Maggie said. “I didn’t see one over a foot wide.”
Maggie walked back toward the door, slowly studying everything around her.
One of Lester’s men called out. “Is Mr. Barone still here?”
Still here? Maggie stopped. Barone was supposedly at dinner—and had been for the past two freaking hours. Maggie walked over to the man. “Excuse me. I’m—”
“I know, Captain Holt. I’m Arthur.”
“When was Mr. Barone up here, Arthur?”
“Pretty much ever since we got here. He was waiting for us, and he’s been in and out ever since.”
“Where?” An icy chill crept up her backbone.
“Excuse me?” Arthur frowned, lost.
“Where was Mr. Barone waiting?” She clarified. “Was he inside or outside the short-stack?”
“I can’t say for certain. I presumed he came in from outside, though I did first see him inside,” Arthur said. “He declared the place empty and the door secure.”
Maggie’s blood pumped hard. “Darcy, did you get that?”
“Yeah, I did. But there’s nothing on the tape, Maggie.”
“Well, the bastard didn’t just appear out of thin air.”
“He didn’t enter after the CSI team arrived, either. We’re checking to see if there’s any other explanation.”
Maggie looked around with a fresh eye and settled on the boxes. Lester walked over and Maggie told him, “Have your people check through the boxes.”
“What are we looking for?” He scribbled himself a note.
“Empties,” she said. Small or not, the key to where the third person was had to be in them. “Look for ones taped together. Ones that could appear to be small from the outside, but could hide a man inside.”
“Damn,” he said on a breathy sigh. “You think—”
“It’s possible.” Maggie stayed noncommittal. “We need to confirm it or rule it out as impossible.”
“It’s going to take a little time to run the check. I’ll get back with you as soon as we know anything.”
“Either way,” she said, then left the short-stack and headed to the stairs. “Will, talk to Linda and see if Barone’s returned from dinner yet.” Maggie could check herself, but Linda was
scared stiff and seeing Maggie looking for Barone just made her worse. Or was she?
Barone might have returned and Linda might not have forgotten to let Maggie know. Throughout the day Linda had been helping everyone and deflecting those running to Barone with anything. Hell, she could be a player.
Will’s voice came through Maggie’s walkie-talkie. “Linda says he came back and she told him to contact you immediately, and then he left again. Now he’s out, cruising the mall.”
Icy claws sank into the back of Maggie’s neck and she stepped aside, getting out of the way of a troop of Boy Scouts in a hurry to get downstairs to the snow. They passed her, excited and laughing, and she walked on, a sinking feeling pitting her stomach. A nasty suspicion had formed in her mind and her instincts hummed their agreement with persistent warnings. “Justin?”
“Yeah, Maggie?”
“Where are you?”
“In the administration wing corridor. Do you need something?”
“Your ears,” she said, hoping she didn’t come to regret not only relying on him but asking for his opinion. “Stay put.”
“Oh, very good progress,” Darcy teased. “She’s needing body parts now.”
“Yeah,” Kate said. “Who knows? She may eventually work her way up to needing his—”
“Lips!” Amanda cut in quickly, derailing Kate.
“Shut up,” Maggie groused. “You guys are never satisfied.” She’d had to take more of their ribbing for going to Justin, but the women had run out of ideas on this attacker in the short-stack. She needed fresh insight.
When she rounded the corner at Macy’s, she saw Justin.
He walked up to her. “What’s up?”
“You know I’ve believed Kunz has someone working on the inside.”
Justin nodded. “I’d say he’d have to, with the way things have been going around here.”
“I think it’s Barone. But if so, why was he genuinely surprised by the lockbox codes and the C-4?”
“His reaction on that did seem genuine,” Justin agreed.
“So you think someone is helping him?”
