Double Dare (18 page)

There was always that ten percent who didn’t get the word, or who weren’t paying attention when they had.
“What about the lime and orange?” Those were the scents that most worried Maggie. Citrus scents were often used to mask biological contaminates.

“Those, too,” Kate said. “The filters have been removed, and the scents are fading fast.”

“Good news is always welcome,” Maggie said.

“Will?” Kate called him.

“Yes, Katie?”

“Don’t damn scare me like that again.”

“My most humble apologies, Katie girl.”

“You’re really okay, right?” Kate asked, sounding totally vulnerable in a way Maggie never before had heard her sound. “You’re not just bullshitting me to get out of seeing a doc?”

“I’m fine. I gave you my word.”

Concern and reassurance. So tender and touching, and humbling to receive. This was a rare privilege for a S.A.S.S. operative to see, much less experience. The secretive nature of their work made intimate relationships very difficult, and observing moments like this were so unique they were treasured. A little hitch settled in Maggie’s heart.

Justin curled an arm around her waist. “Come on, Maggie.”

Given what was sure to be a short moment without crises, Maggie and Justin walked to Center Court. Watching the Olympians pelt the Special Forces with hand-packed snowballs brought a smile even to the most cynical of faces. Maggie felt her lips curl and spread, and she risked a sideways glance at Justin, not at all surprised to see him smiling, too. She elbowed him lightly. “You’re a soft touch.”

He grunted and touched her face. “Only where you’re concerned,” he said. “Then, yeah, I guess, I am.”

Far happier about that than she should be, Maggie bit back a smile. Her heart tripped over its own beat. A tingle started at the base of her spine and shot up through her shoulders. “That’s a pretty strong statement to make to a woman, Justin.” It would be if it was true. And God help her, she wanted it to be true. But he didn’t keep promises to women, and this was no time to forget that.

“Strong or weak, what is just is,” he said softly. “Sometimes, Maggie, we can’t dictate what we feel. Smart or stupid, logical or insane, we just have to accept what we feel as real and valid.”

“I’m not sure I find that flattering.” She looked up into his eyes, risked saying out loud the fears deepest in her mind. So deep they left their imprint on her soul. “I trusted my heart and it betrayed me. I’m not sure even now that it’s recovered. The head has to rule the heart, Justin. I learned that much. Emotions can turn on a dime.”

“I know what you mean.” He sent her a sympathetic look. “But life just doesn’t work out that way. The sooner you accept it, the happier you’ll be.”

She swallowed hard, inspired to believe him, tempted to act. She opened her mouth to tell him, but fear bit her hard. “I—I can’t live any other way.”

“Because you choose not to, Maggie,” he said. “It is your choice to make.”

“Control is power. Don’t you see that I can’t ever again relinquish control?”

“You sound as if you did, you’d be lining yourself up for an execution.”

“More or less.” Her throat hurt. “I don’t want to be crushed again.”

“Neither do I, and I well might be.” He shrugged. “I’ve been clear about my interest. I care about you, Maggie. The only clues I’ve had about your feelings for me are that you asked for my opinion, and you allowed me to put drops in your eyes. That’s not a lot for a man to hang his heart on.”

He’d hung his heart? He’d thought about hanging his heart? Her own heart beat hard and fast, thumping against her ribs. She didn’t know how to respond to that. Wasn’t sure she wanted to think about that just now, much less talk about it. The thing was, she had to be honest with herself, and what she was feeling. Boy, was she feeling. He’d released a whole barrage in her, and her emotions ran full spectrum from fabulous to frightening.

“Be brave, Maggie. It’s your nature.”

With her life, yes, maybe. But this was her heart. She stared hard at him, blinked. “I think this talk would be best saved for later.”

“Coward.”

She had been, and she deserved better from herself. He deserved better from her, too. Her mouth turned as dry as dust. She pulled up her courage and faced him. “It seems as if we’re a team, Crowe. I haven’t figured out why, or what that means yet. Maybe you’ve got it all sorted out.”

He let out a shuddery sigh and the tension in his face turned to relief. “Later, when every word isn’t being heard by half the county, I’m going to do what I’ve wanted to do every time you get that look on your face.”

“Damn,” Kate said. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Shut up, Kate,” Darcy said. “This is private.”

Private? Maggie doubted they knew the meaning of the word.

“Hell, it’s all been private, Darcy,” Kate came back at her. “This is the good part.”

“Maybe so, Kate,” Colonel Drake said. “But we’ve been officially excluded. Accept it.”

“Hardly seems fair, Colonel,” Mark Cross, who’d had the good sense to keep his mouth shut until now, chimed in.

“Mark?” Justin sounded shocked. “You’ve been listening in, too?”

“Yeah, sure,” Mark said. “I just have enough smarts to keep my mouth closed—so I don’t get shut out of the good parts.”

“Careful, Cross,” Amanda said. “You’re treading on dangerous territory with those kinds of remarks.”

Totally exasperated, Maggie had to control herself to keep from screaming. “Will you guys shut up and butt out?”

“We apologize,” Kate said. “Everyone means it but me. I’d be lying, so I’m holding out.”

“Whatever, Kate.” Maggie turned her focus to Justin. “What look was that you were talking about, Justin?”

He let out a little chuckle. “The adorable one that says you have plenty to say but are too afraid to let yourself say it.” A twinkle lighted his eyes.

That was true about at least half her professional work and about nearly everything in personal life. “I look forward to exploring that…later.”

Disappointed groans from the others tied up the radio.

Almost shy, Justin smiled, checked his watch, then ordered a sound-off from all the undercover medical personnel.

“Dr. Crowe,” a man said in a rushed voice.

“Yes?” Justin said.

“Dr. Crowe, this is Mike Mapleton on Level Three. It’s gone, sir. I don’t know how, but it’s gone. I haven’t left my station—but it’s all gone.”

Justin tensed. “What’s gone, Mike?”

“The antidote, sir.” Mike sounded panicked. “It’s gone, sir. Every vial of the antidote is gone. All that’s left are the empty boxes.”

“J
ustin?” Maggie stood at Center Court. Hundreds of people were crammed in and around the pit, and the noise level was deafening, the mood light and gay, in stark contrast to that of those in the need-to-know loop. They were hyperalert. “Run a full verification on the antidote vials,” Maggie said “Do it now.”

He immediately called for a sound-off, adding, “Check the boxes. I want an eyes-on the actual vials.”

“Level Three, Station One. Oh, no. It’s gone. All of it is gone!”

Maggie’s stomach knotted. She looked across the pit. Amanda, Kate and Mark were at their posts, scanning for signs of trouble, certainly as disturbed by the findings as Maggie.

“Level Three, Station Two. Gone, sir.”

“Level Three, Station Three. I—I can’t believe it. Gone, sir. Every single vial. Dr. Crowe, I haven’t moved from this station. I swear it. How could this happen?”

“Later, Three-Three,” Justin said. “Right now, we need to focus on total status. What’s your report, Three-Four?” Justin sounded as impatient and stunned as Maggie felt.

“Empty, Dr. Crowe. I haven’t taken my eyes off these boxes but every damn one of them is empty.”

And so it went, from the top of the facility all the way down to Level One, Station Six.

Maggie turned clammy cold. “Justin, do you know what the hell happened?”

“Give me two minutes, Maggie.” He then went back to the sound-off general frequency he’d been using since his first status report check.

In ninety seconds he reported back. “The last eyes-on vial check was before dinner, Maggie. None of the undercover medical personnel checked the actual vials on returning from their dinner breaks. They just counted boxes.”

Maggie silently cursed, the taste in her mouth bitter. “And the substitutes covering for the undercover medical personnel during dinner had been arranged by the same person who had arranged for the Red Cross volunteer medical staff in the first place.”

“That’s right, Maggie,” Justin said. “Linda Diel.”

“Damn it.” Kate let out a heartfelt huff. “She took it out during the changeover.”

Darcy piped in. “No one walked out of the facility with vial boxes, Maggie. I’m positive of it.”

“No, the boxes are all still here,” Justin said.

“We pulled the handled Krane’s shopping bags off the
sales floor when the baggers started bringing them inside empty.”

That would have been nice for Maggie to know. “Who pulled them, Amanda?”

“Officially, the Krane’s store manager, but Linda actually secured the bags.”

“Which means she had access to them to give them to the medical subs to package and remove the vials. But how did she get the bags to them?” Maggie asked. “She’s been missing since right before I issued the order to secure and detain her.”

“Maggie,” Justin piped in. “I’ve just been told by one of the medical personnel that Linda has been making courtesy calls on every station all afternoon, checking to see if the volunteers need anything.”

“Yet she’s avoided all of security looking for her?” Kate asked.

“Easily,” Maggie said. “It’s a madhouse in here.”

“True,” Darcy said. “If she didn’t want to be seen, she could arrange it.”

“So she visited each of the stations during the time the subs were manning them,” Kate said. “How did she get the vials out?”

Maggie covered every potential scenario and landed on a probable explanation. “What about the private elevator?” She could have moved them using it.

“Definite possibility,” Darcy said. “We didn’t know about that elevator at that time, Maggie. There’s no monitor there. It was wide open until you posted Cynthia Pratt on it.”

Judy Meyer knew the elevator was there. Had she got
ten in Linda’s way? Is that what had happened to her? “Will,” Maggie said into her walkie-talkie. “Get Cynthia Pratt, STAT.”

He paged her, but got no response and then tried her again.

Still no response.

Terrified she knew what had happened, Maggie broke through the dense crowd, rushed to the administration wing’s alcove. “That elevator has to be it, Darcy.”

“Judy could’ve gotten in Linda’s way,” Darcy said.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing. I’m on my way there now.”

“Colonel Drake’s reviewing tapes, Maggie. She’s seeing a pattern form.”

Cutting through Macy’s, Maggie exited right down the thoroughfare from the security office. “What pattern?”

“After the dinner breaks for our regulars, the substitutes filling in for them left the stations with handled shopping bags. All of them had made purchases, so the bags did hold merchandise. I dismissed them as unimportant.” Recrimination filled her voice. “But all of the subs converged at that damn elevator, Maggie.
All
of them.”

“Linda delivered the shopping bags to them at the time they made their purchases. The subs put the vials in the bags and after the regulars returned, the subs delivered the bags to Linda.” Oh, man. This was bad. Really, really bad.

“That’s highly probable. We don’t have full three-sixty vision on these stations. Being familiar with Santa Bella’s cameras limitations, Linda knows that.” Darcy cursed. “Damn it, I shouldn’t have dismissed that.” Something cracked, as if she’d slammed a fist to her desk. “She had the subs walk right out with the freaking antidote vials.”

“It’s not your fault, Darcy. Let’s focus and go forward from where we are now.” Frustration and fear mingled in Maggie. The entire mall—everyone in it—was wide open to attack with no defense. “Contact the Threat Integration Center and General Shaw. I want to close the mall immediately.” They were just too vulnerable without the antidote on-site.

A scant few minutes later Darcy returned. “Colonel Drake’s requesting permission, Maggie.”

She waited, knowing the longer it took for a response, the less the odds were for agreement.

“Denied.” Darcy sounded as frustrated as Maggie felt.

Kate erupted. “What do they want, a frontal assault, full-scale attack before they’ll make a freaking commitment?”

She’d override it.

“We’ve also been told that they’ll override any national security order, should you choose to use it to countermand their decision on this.”

Outrage roiled in Maggie. “Why?”

“Similar events have occurred in three states. Right down to the C-4. But nothing proves conclusively GRID is involved or that the incidents are irrefutably connected. Until such time as we, or Intel, conclusively make those connections, locals have ultimate authority. That’s Barone.”

“Who is MIA,” Maggie said, not adding that even if he weren’t missing in action, he wouldn’t have the balls to do anything about this.

“Missing or not, only he can shut the place down. The owners each are free to make their own choices.”

“They have.” Frustration flowed through Maggie and
erupted. “HQ’s tied my damn hands,” she said, referencing headquarters. “Maybe they need to get their asses down here to counter Kunz, then.”

“Maggie,” Colonel Drake said. “Remember what I told you about the rules.”

To break the rules to do what she needed to do. Maggie sighed. “Got it, Colonel.”

“Things are what they are,” Kate said. “We suggested, they said no, and that’s that.”

“Considering the administration’s in hiding, and we have no authority to go back to the owners, that sucks, Kate,” Maggie said, hell-bent on doing what she could to comply, but if they got to the wire and it warned her to close the mall, she would close the mall.

“Hey, I never said it was smart, only fact.”

“Will?”

“Yeah, Maggie?”

“Survey the twenty-six on shutting down.”

“I’m all over it.”

Maggie cut the alcove corner and slipped past the line of people waiting for the rest room, then looked inside.

Cynthia Pratt wasn’t at her post.

Oh, no. No, no, no.
“Has anyone seen a woman in here wearing a jacket like mine?”

They all nodded no.

Maggie backed out, went down to the end of the hall and shoved at the door marked Private—No Exit. Her stomach flipped at knowing now there was an elevator behind it as well as a closet.

Still no Cindy.

“Will, where are you?”

“Level Two, Station One, Maggie.”

“Where is Cindy?” Maggie asked, but innately she knew Will hadn’t moved Cindy. Innately, Maggie knew that Cindy was as gone as Judy Meyer.

“Guarding the private elev—”

“No, Will,” Maggie cut in. “I’m here and Cindy is nowhere in sight.”

A long pause and then Will said, “She’s not answering her page, Maggie. Something’s wrong, like with Judy. Cindy has been with me over three years. I know her. She’d never walk off a post.”

Maggie’s throat went tight. “You think someone forcibly removed her?” Maggie scanned the floor and walls, looking for any clue.

“I’d bet my life on it,” Will said. “Kicking and screaming is the
only
way anyone would get Cindy to abandon her post.”

Gouges on the wall.

Maggie crimped her fingers, followed the path scratched through the paint. Kicking and screaming is exactly what it appeared Cindy had done. “It looks like she fought hard, Will. Nail marks are through the paint and into the wall-board.” On the left wall was a locked door. Rattled, Maggie mentally scanned the floor plan, trying to remember for certain what was on the other side of it. “Closet. It’s a closet, right, Darcy?” Maggie was shaking, inside and out.

“It’s a utility closet,” Darcy said. “Yes.”

“Thanks.” Maggie talked into the walkie-talkie. “I need a key down here for this utility closet, Will.”

Dread laced Will’s voice. “I’m, um, on my way, Maggie.”

She went back into the alcove, talked to the fifteen or
so women in line. “Did anyone see a skinny redhead wearing a yellow jacket like mine come through here?”

Again, no one had.

“She didn’t leave via the alcove, Maggie. Tape verifies that.”

Maggie made her way to Exit Six, walked outside into the crisp night air and turned right. Barone’s BMW was back in its parking slot. “Will, APB on Barone. His car’s back, so he’s bound to be around somewhere. I want him found and detained immediately.”

Will disbursed the order.

“Maggie?”

Damn it, she didn’t want to look inside that closet. The wind burned her eyes, had the tip of her nose cold and tingling. “Go ahead, Justin.”

“I’ve been to every station on every level. There isn’t one vial of antidote in this entire facility, and there was a sub at every station for dinner. What do you want me to do?”

“Get as detailed descriptions as you can on the substitutes.” They could be GRID members, or just temporary mall employees Linda or Barone had hired. Either way, they needed to be checked out. Likely, they had no idea they’d done anything wrong.

Maggie went back inside, headed to the alcove. She got back to the utility closet. Just looking at the door had her stomach totally in knots. And Will still hadn’t made it down. “Where are you, Will?”

“Had to bust up a fight on Level Three. I’m on my way down. It’s going to take a while. Everything’s jammed.”

With people crammed to the rafters, it could take him fifteen minutes to get down to her. Maggie reached into her
fanny pack and pulled out a flat file, then went to work to pry the hinges from the door. She couldn’t pull the lock as quickly as she could just unhinge the door.

The hinge pins popped up. She pulled them out and stuffed them into her parka pocket. Jiggling the door, the hinges separated and the door broke loose from its frame.

And a woman’s blood-soaked arm fell through the opening.

“Darcy, get me some help down here right away. Clear the rest rooms and seal the alcove between Security and Medical. Get everyone on their toes.”

“Judy Meyer?” Darcy asked.

“No.” Maggie looked at the skinny redhead’s battered, bloody face, and shuddered. “Cynthia Pratt.” She swallowed hard.
There was too much blood.
“Call in the coroner. We have a fatality.”

The alcove was sealed off and two guards stood at its mouth in the thoroughfare corridor. Maggie was at the end of the hallway, near the utility closet. She’d gently placed Cynthia Pratt’s body on the floor, rather than allowing her to tumble out.

The entire front of her parka was covered in blood. “Darcy, get someone to bring me a parka. Not Will.”

“Marty’s on the way with one, Maggie.”

She shrugged out of it, then removed the halo pin and put it on her blouse collar.

“Captain Holt?”

It was Marty. She walked to the end of the alcove, took the parka. He looked devastated. “I’m sorry, Marty.”

He blinked hard. “Can I do anything?”

“No.” No way would she put him through that. “I’ll take good care of her.” Maggie patted his shoulder.

“I’m, um, better get back, then.”

Maggie nodded, watched him walk away and then went back to Cindy’s body.

Daniel Barone arrived at the scene first.

“Where the hell have you been?” Maggie asked him, feeling that same sense of revulsion that the child had felt, recoiling from his touch.

“Level Three, mostly. Rotating between the A-stores.”

“Mr. Barone,” Maggie said through clenched teeth. “Do not test my patience. I promise you, I have none right now. I know you left the building—I’ve had everyone in it looking for you for hours—and for a long time, your BMW wasn’t in the parking lot.”

Justin and Will arrived, both surprised to see Barone there.

“Can I do anything to help, Maggie?” Justin asked.

“It’s too late,” she said softly, positioning herself to block Will’s view of Cindy’s body. “I’m sorry, Will.”

Pain settled over him like a shroud. “Did she suffer?”

“I don’t know.” She’d fought like a hellion. That was clear from her jagged bloody nails. “The coroner will be able to tell you that. I know she fought hard.”

“She was in the utility closet?” Will asked.

Maggie nodded, gently stroked his upper arm and kept him from stepping around her. “Don’t look, Will. Cindy wouldn’t want you to remember her like this.”