Chasing Tinsel (Miranda Vaughn Mysteries) (4 page)

“Miranda, you’re not supposed to give your employee discount to customers,” Breanna whispered.

“I know, but what are they going to do, fire me? It’s the busiest time of the year,” I said. “Anyway, I only have six days left before I get laid off.”
 

Plus, helping the boy get a present for his mom went a little way toward cheering me up.
 

Breanna sighed. “I won’t tell, but don’t let Jeff catch you. He’s a tyrant.”
 

“Thanks for having my back,” I said.
 

Though I wasn’t planning on making a career of working at Drake’s, I didn’t want to get fired by an assistant manager who probably wasn’t old enough to buy beer.
 

“Do you want to buy a five-dollar gift card for St. John’s holiday drive? It’s good at any store in the mall and will be given to a needy family on Christmas,” I said, feeling like a heel for asking the woman paying cash for a small pile of cosmetic gift sets. The woman’s face was lined and tired, and under her worn coat she wore a threadbare smock from a housecleaning agency.
 

To my surprise, she smiled.
 

“That’s a nice thing to get on Christmas,” she said and reached back into her wallet. “I remember being so poor one year, the only presents my kids got were from St. John’s Parish.”
 

I gave her a card to fill out with a holiday message to the recipient, then dropped the gift card into the drawer that would be emptied into the display box after the store closed.
 

“You have a nice holiday,” the woman said as I handed her the bag with her purchase.
 

“Thank you, and you also,” I said. “And thank you for shopping at Drake’s.”

I almost always forgot that last part, which was mandatory, according to Jeff. I followed the woman to the store’s door that led to the mall and let her out, locking the gate behind her.
 

It had been a long, busy evening, and my feet were aching. I still had to count my till, put away the cosmetics samples, and restock the counter. A few people lingered in the mall, but the stores were closing, and the last late-night shoppers were dragging their packages toward the exits.
 

By the time I finished my chores and retrieved my belongings from the basement employee lounge, it was close to 10 p.m. I waved to Mall Cop Pete, who was standing near the Winter Wonderland display and the box of gift certificates, which was being replenished with the donations from Drake’s sales that day. Santa was gone, but the two elves, Kevin and Jaden, were still loitering near the display, watching as Jeff dumped a box of gift cards into the tall, clear plastic box. The elves stood near each other, and one whispered something to the other, who nodded. Somehow, I doubted they shared my concern about the number of gift cards in the box.

Pete locked the lid to the box and stared down the elves, who slunk off toward the parking garage, shoving each other all the way. Then Pete and one of his coworkers hefted the box onto a cart and wheeled it off to be locked up for the night. Jeff walked back to the door near the cosmetics counter and waved, so I opened the gate a few feet so he could pass through. Then I picked up my purse and coat and ducked underneath, letting Jeff close the grated doors and lock them for the night.
 

“Miranda, I noticed that you sold a large number of the St. John’s gift cards tonight,” Jeff said, through the closed security gate.
 

I smiled. “Yes, I did.”

“But you didn’t get a single customer to apply for the credit card?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

I shook my head. “Not one.”
 

“You should work on that tomorrow,” he said.
 

“I’ll do that,” I lied, slipping my coat on. “Have a nice night, Jeff.”
 

I waved and headed toward the main parking garage, which had been the only place I’d been able to find a parking spot when I arrived.
 

The mall was quiet, much more than it had been just a short time earlier when Jeff and Pete had consolidated the gift cards, and it was eerie watching the lights turn off in the stores. The holiday Muzak was turned off, and my footsteps on the tile floor echoed as I passed darkened and locked stores. The lights at the carousel were still on, a bright beacon at the junction of four wide avenues that led to various anchor stores and the cineplex. I started to turn down the hall that would lead to the parking garage where the Golf Ball awaited me but slowed to look at the carousel. A little older and more worn by all the thousands of children who had enjoyed it, but it still brought a smile to my face. The horses were still, and the attendant was long since gone, turning off the calliope music that usually haunted the center of Prospect Point.
 

I turned left and looked behind me as I did, the silence unnerving me and urging me onward. As I looked back toward the carousel, a flicker of movement in the now-stilled mirrors caught my eye.
 

It was the reflection of a man, distorted in the wavy, aged mirrors, but unmistakable. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair. Our eyes met and my heart stopped.

Jake
.
 

I whirled around and looked down the hall behind me, but the wide carpeted walkway was empty. I heard a slamming sound and looked to my right at an unmarked door. Had it been the source of the noise?
 

I walked to it quickly, placing my hand on the knob, knowing it would be locked. I looked around again and didn’t see anyone, so I found my employee pass and tried the keypad next to the door. It was the pass that let Drake’s employees use the hallways behind the stores, allowing us to take out the trash without dragging bags through the crowds of customers. I wasn’t sure it would work on this door, but I heard a soft click as the door unlocked. I pulled the door open and looked down the short hallway. Its bare walls were lit with flickering fluorescent lights.
 

I looked back again to the quiet mall, then slipped past the door and walked down the short bare hallway to the corner, where it met with the corridor that ran behind a long stretch of stores. The hall was empty and my footsteps echoed off the concrete walls. It was the stuff of nightmares—a long stretch of unending gray tile and gray walls, lit by green-tinged, humming fluorescent lights, broken only by the regular placement of dark brown doors marked with store names. The doors were all locked, and the employees had long since left.
 

The hall finally ended with an abrupt left turn, following the contour of the mall’s outside walls, and about a hundred feet ahead of that, the hall made a right turn. In the distance, I heard a door slam and hurried toward the corner. The empty hall ended about fifty feet from the corner at a door marked with an exit sign.

Cautiously, I pushed open the door and found myself in a dark corner of a parking garage. I looked around for the person who had just preceded me but didn’t see a tall, dark-haired FBI agent. Or anyone else for that matter.
 

Was it really Jake I’d seen? Had I seen anyone? Maybe it was just my imagination playing tricks on me.
 

No, I’d heard the doors slamming.
 

And I’d recognize Jake Barnes in a heartbeat. He occupied way too much space in my daydreams and fantasies. I knew his face, his silhouette, the shape of the shadow he’d cast.
 

The door slammed behind me with a bang, and I jumped as the sound echoed through the nearly empty concrete structure. With a shiver, I moved toward the garage exit. I was parked on the other side of the mall, but the parking structure ran below the building and I could get there without having to walk around the parking lot outside. It was just going to be creepy as hell to navigate the dark and quiet structure.
 

As I walked, I peered behind the pillars, looking for any clue that might reveal who I’d been following, but there was no one around. Stopping for a moment, I listened and heard faint footsteps not too far from me. About two hundred feet ahead was a wall of glass, behind which were the escalators near the movie theater entrance. It was brightly lit but empty. I moved in that direction and caught a glimpse of a tall figure hurrying from behind a pillar and crossing beyond the windows.
 

I had only caught a quick look at the man, his short dark hair and black jacket nearly a blur as he slipped from my view. My heart beat faster at the sight, and I hurried across the pavement to try to catch the man, unsure what I’d do or say once I did.
 

Rounding the corner, I stopped abruptly.
 

There was no one there.
 

I blew out a breath as I scanned the area, taking in the dozen scattered vehicles and vast empty concrete expanse. What the hell? This was insane.
I
was insane.
 

A car door slammed in the distance, and I turned toward a delivery van, idling near a post. The van’s headlights turned on, and the vehicle pulled away from its parking space and toward the exit. As it came closer to me, I saw two figures in the van. The driver was bald with a crooked nose and a scowling expression.
 

In the dim light, I recognized the passenger—the young man who had been picking out engagement rings with his girlfriend at Ferris Family Jewelers. As the van turned, the man looked straight ahead and I noted with dismay his short dark hair and black jacket. Then the van crossed the empty parking spaces without regard to the painted lines on the concrete and sped toward the exit ramp.
 

I was an idiot. An idiot chasing the wrong man through a nearly abandoned parking garage at ten o’clock at night.
 

I pulled my coat tighter around me in the cold air and trudged toward the exit in the distance, near where the Golf Ball was parked. My impulse to follow a dark-haired man into the creepy halls and abandoned parking garage was a sign that I was not in my right mind—at least when it came to Jake Barnes. What had I been thinking? It wasn’t even him. I was lucky the man didn’t call security to report a stalker.
 

I thought back to my recent Jake sightings—had I been imagining it? Was it this poor love-struck shopper the whole time? They were roughly the same height and build, but how could I have mistaken this stranger for Jake? I’d been so certain that it was Jake’s face I saw in the mall and again reflected in the carousel.

The quiet of the garage was broken by the sound of running feet and then a rhythmic swishing sound that I recognized as skateboard wheels on cement. I peered around and didn’t see anything at first, but as the sound grew louder, I saw two young men in dark sweatshirts zooming through the empty expanse.
 

One stepped off his skateboard and flipped it up, catching it with a flourish that knocked his hood off his head, and I recognized Kevin, the surly elf from the Winter Wonderland display. He and his buddy, who I thought might have been the other elf, Jaden, zipped off again, not noticing me in the shadows of the parking structure.
 

The garage was quiet again and I glanced around uneasily in the tomb-like silence.
 

“Miranda.”

The sound of my name echoed around me and made me jump about a foot off the ground. I turned and saw Murph walking toward me.
 

“Oh, hey there, Murph. You startled me,” I said, my hand at my throat and my heart beating madly, fear taking over the keen sense of disappointment I’d been wallowing in.

“What are you doing out here alone? You should have had Pete or one of the other security boys walk you out,” he said as he reached my side.
 

“I’m okay. I’m not parked too far from here,” I said, looking around and still not seeing the Golf Ball.
 

“Well, I’ll make sure you get there safely,” Murph said, walking with me. “This isn’t a great neighborhood, you know.”
 

I nodded. “I know. I grew up around here. Still live here, actually.”
 

“Oh yeah? Well, you should know better than to venture out here alone at night then,” he scolded me gently.
 

“Thanks for the escort,” I said, finally spying my car in the corner of the garage.
 

“I grew up in a bad neighborhood, too, and you just don’t let a lady walk through there at night,” he said.
 

“Where did you grow up?”
 

He paused and then waved a in a vaguely eastern direction. “On the East Coast. New Jersey.”
 

“You’re a long way from home, Murph. What made you stay in California?”
 

“Oh, I just liked it here. The weather’s nice,” he said with another vague wave of his hand. “That your little car?”
 

I unlocked the door, and Murph started to walk away, but I called to him.
 

“Hey, I think you may have missed the last bus. Can I give you a ride?”
 

He paused, looked at his watch, and then frowned. “You may be right, but don’t worry about me. Like I said, I grew up in a tough town. I’ll be fine.”
 

“No way, Murph. It’s no problem for me to give you a ride home. Come on.”
 

I threw my purse in the back and stood next to the car until he smiled and nodded. “Okay, and thank you. It was a long day, and it will be nice not to have to walk all the way home.”
 

Murph looked like he was having second thoughts as I unfastened the bungee cord that ensured the passenger side door wouldn’t unlatch but gamely climbed into the car. He gave me directions as we drove out of the parking garage, and we were soon driving deep into one of the city’s worst neighborhoods.
 

“You can let me off here on the corner,” Murph said.
 

I peered out into the dark at the corner liquor mart and outdoor drug bazaar, both of which appeared to stay open late for the residents’ convenience. “Um, no, I’d rather drop you closer to your door.”