“But he’s putting others at risk. How can that not matter?”
“He doesn’t care, Justin. Gray’s a jealous bastard who so envies Colonel Drake and her job that he wants to create havoc to make her look bad more than he wants anything else—and that includes us successfully avoiding an attack. The jackass puts us in ‘unintentional’ jeopardy all the time, and he never fails to wheedle his way out of responsibility for it. That absolutely frosts my cookies.”
“But surely he knows that this parka stunt of his could kill people.” Justin looked suitably disgusted. “A lot of people.”
“He should know it, but truthfully, he’s probably not thinking in that direction, which goes a long way toward explaining why he didn’t get Colonel Drake’s job. The man wouldn’t make a patch on Sally Drake’s ass, and that’s just the way it is.” Maggie lifted her hand from her pin, signaling the topic was now closed. “Verify your medical personnel, inside and outside, are on their toes.” The majority were stationed outside in unmarked vans.
That said, Maggie turned her attention elsewhere. “Amanda, is Mark back from dinner yet?”
“He will be in ten minutes.”
“Rush him,” Maggie said, turning toward the administrative wing. “Special Forces are now on-site. That definitely ratchets up the risks. Kunz is disciplined, but the opportunity to knock off fifty or so Special Forces and their families at one time is too much temptation to trust him to be able to resist.” It would be unrelenting, gnawing at him, and likely overwhelm him. “Will, verify that your staff members are posted at all entrances and prepared to intercept on order.” She brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “And make sure Donald Freeman is on that round on Level Three, and he’s checked to make sure the new netting is in place and secure.” When no one had returned to it by noon, Maggie had ordered the round renetted to free up security resources.
She passed the security office, cut into the alcove to run to the rest room and shoved the door open.
Two things knocked her back on her heels.
There was no attendant present. Every rest room and dressing room in the facility was supposed to be manned by a security guard, and this one was empty.
And on the floor near the first stall stood a Krane’s handled shopping bag.
“Darcy?” Maggie moved toward the bag, looked inside.
Empty.
“Will?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m here, Maggie,” Will said.
Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. “Level One, Administration Wing. Women’s rest room in the alcove between Security and Medical. Who is the attendant on duty here, Will?”
“Judy Meyer,” he said. “Why?”
“She’s MIA.”
“Meyer is missing in action?” Will sounded flummoxed.
“That’s correct, yes,” Maggie said. “And we have another abandoned Krane’s bag in one of the stalls.” Maggie had to pause to swallow a lump stuck in her throat.
The attendant’s welfare was a major concern.
“Maggie, there’s only one way Judy abandoned her post. Someone forced her, or killed her and removed her,” Will said. “No drama intended, but that’s Judy’s nature.”
“Darcy,” Maggie said, “review the tapes and see what turns up on her.”
“To get out of the alcove, she had to have gone through the camera’s eye,” Darcy said. “Colonel’s reviewing the tapes now.”
“This is the rest room located between
Security
and
Medical.
” Amanda sounded disgusted. “Damn it, Kunz is rubbing our noses in it.”
Maggie inspected the bag. “For what it’s worth, he wasn’t as obvious with this as with the yellow-jacketed men. The bag’s crinkled. Something was inside it.” Could
the virus have been set off here? There should be residue evidence and there was none visible.
But Kunz could have cut the virus loose in here, if he had wanted to do it.
And that was his message to Maggie. He was in control. He would pick and choose what he did and when he did it.
She curled her fingers into fists at her sides, galled by him, outraged, though logic and common sense told her that defending against an attack could be no other way. “My guess is whomever left it here wasn’t wearing a jacket.”
Moments later Darcy agreed and Colonel Drake verified it. No one on the tapes entered the alcove wearing a jacket.
“Will, is there any reason that Judy wouldn’t be in here? Maybe someone was shorthanded and pulled her temporarily for other duty.”
“Judy is supposed to still be posted there, Maggie.”
A shot of dread mixed with fear and fired off inside her.
“That’s verified,” Will said. “No one pulled her and she wouldn’t just walk. Someone removed her, Maggie. I’d bet on it.”
“Put out an APB on her.”
“Just within the facility?” Will asked.
“No, Will,” Maggie answered. “Darcy, take it out, full-scale.”
Maggie thought through this again, putting it in perspective, and then added it to the larger picture of events. One person had been conspicuously absent during every incident that had occurred in the last twenty-four hours—the
person who initially had seemed most concerned about his facility, and always had been concerned with saving his own job and covering his own backside: Daniel Barone.
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.”