Chapter 1
Timberwoods Mall was ablaze with Christmas cheer. Busy shoppers fought their way from store to store with good-natured directness; garlands of evergreens hung from on high, artificially scented to add to the delicious atmosphere of the holidays. The glittering displays, the noisy fun of the puppet shows and animated seasonal displays, the Christmas train that carried its young passengers in a wide circle around the promenade level, and the general feeling of goodwill and peace on earth were all enhanced by the piped-in Christmas carols.
Heather Andrews, head security manager, turned away, feeling a little overwhelmed. She left the high balcony where shed been keeping an eye on the crowds and retreated to the relative calm of her office to make herself some coffee. The ritual of making it was soothing, even though the caffeine jolt she was after would be the exact opposite.
Premeasured pod in the basket. Filtered water in the upper part. Glass pot, ready and waiting. Flip, click, push the button.
She went to her desk with a cup of the freshbrewed coffee and sat down in her swivel chair with a sigh, taking a sip and glancing out of habit at a bank of video monitors that offered views of every aspect of the gigantic mall and the swarm of shoppers. The system was state-ofthe-art. One click of a mouse could narrow the focus to individual faces, enabling her and the security team to keep an eye on suspicious characters and record their activities.
Bryan, her assistant, came in with a sheaf of printed reports. Heather sat up straight.
Sorry. Didnt mean to startle you, Bryan said.
She looked intently into the monitors, following the progress of a female figure. You didnt. I just saw someone I knew on the video feed.
Bad guy or good guy?
Not a guy. A girl. She swiveled the monitor around so Bryan could see. Angela Steinhart.
Who? Uh, I mean, the last name is familiar, Bryan corrected himself.
Its on the plaque at the entrance. You see it every workday, genius. Her fathers architecture firm built this mall, Heather said crisply. Angela designed some of our best Christmas displays this year, and she hasnt even graduated from college yet. Check out the number of people around that one.
She switched the focus from Angela at the outer edge of the crowd, and zoomed in on a charming Victorian skating scene featuring larger-than-life mice in vintage costumes. Bright-eyed children and their parents looked on as the animated mice twirled and did figure eights.
Nice, Bryan said in a bored way. Id rather watch hockey myself. But at least she paid her debt to society.
Heather knew he was referring to Angelas arrest for shoplifting a few years ago, and she wasnt going to go into it. As far as she was concerned, Angela had redeemed herself for that single misdemeanor offense. Besides, the malls case, such as it was, had been on the shaky side.
Bryan placed the reports on her desk. Here you go. Have yourself a merry little meltdown.
Thanks. Heather took another sip of coffee and swiveled to glance at the monitors again. Angela had drifted on to another one of the displays shed designed, an even more popular one than the skating mice. Surrounded by a low hedge of artificial greenery, huge silver and gold angels lifted glass trumpets to their lips and silently proclaimed the season of hope and joy. The greenery was decorated with tiny paper angels, handcrafted by children and put there during a sponsored project with the local schools. Each kid had added a wish for peace on earth or something like that, printed in crayon, on the wings of the angels.
Heather couldnt read the wishes on her monitor, but she knew generally what they wereshed supervised the paper-angel installation and helped herd the kids in and out of the mall. Good community relations, or so said Felex Lassiter, head of publicity. The teachers and the moms and dads whod volunteered for the day had been happy to have the kids think about something else besides getting presents.
Angela seemed to be studying the paper angels. Maybe she was finding inspiration for next years displays, Heather thought idly. She picked up a page on top of the stack without reading it. She looked up at Bryan. Hey, when are you taking that skiing vacation? I forgot to note it down.
My flight to Colorado leaves tomorrow morning and Im not coming back until after New Years. You and the team are going to have to hold the fort without me.
I dont know how well manage, she said dryly, then sighed. Have a good time. Dont break a leg.
He gave her a broad grin and closed the door after himself with a soft click.
Heather riffled through the security reports, not seeing anything that required immediate action. For the briefest of seconds, she turned her attention back to the monitors, noticing absently that Angela Steinhart had disappeared from view, before she began to study the paperwork in front of her.
Continuing on her way through the mall, Angela stayed close to the walls so as to avoid the holiday shoppers thronging near the shop windows and filling the corridors. Wide-wheeled strollers and carry-carts added to the confusion of people struggling to manage bulky purchases and swinging bags, but the overall mood was cheerful, almost oblivious.
A faint shiver ran up Angelas spine, even though the indoor air was warm. She forced herself to keep on going, rising through the multileveled mall on a series of escalators framed in glass and steel.
Looking over the heads of the shoppers, she picked out her other displays and gave one last look back at the silver and gold angels, as if reassuring herself that they were still there, larger than life.
