CHAPTER 9
Caleb paced nervously in front of the intersection of the main hallway and the corridor leading to the mall offices. He was hoping with all his might that no one would happen along this way. He figured his odds were good. There were no stores around here. It was just dead space in the mall on a Saturday afternoon.
He pulled his phone and texted Reuben. The message was brief.
Hurry up!
Just as he put the phone away, he looked up. His mouth became dry and he gave an involuntarily shudder.
It was a mall cop headed directly his way.
As the beefy man in the dark blue uniform with squeaky belt and shoes approached, Caleb attempted a smile.
“Hello,” he said as the man drew closer.
The man looked at him suspiciously. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Help?” said Caleb in a shaky voice. “No, I’m fine. Just…just waiting on some friends.”
“Up here?” The guard made a show of looking around at the empty space.
“Y-yes,” said Caleb, stammering slightly. “We, I mean they, don’t really know the area. I suggested meeting here, you know, just for—it gets crowded downstairs.” He paused and swallowed hard. “I don’t like crowds.”
The guard looked even more suspicious. It didn’t help when Caleb gave a nervous glance down the corridor leading to the mall offices.
“Can I see some ID?” asked the guard.
“ID?” asked Caleb shrilly.
“Yes, ID,” said the guard, drawing closer. His hand went up and rested on the butt of his holstered gun.
“Cer-certainly, Officer. Do I call you Officer?”
“Sir, the ID, please.”
“But I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“Then you should have no problem showing me some ID. If it checks out we can all go on our way. How’s that sound?”
“But the Fourth Amendment guarantees protection against unreasonable searches and seizures,” said Caleb desperately.
“I’m neither searching nor seizing, sir, and you’re making this a lot harder than it has to be.”
“I’m sorry, I truly am.” Caleb could see the cop was definitely suspicious now. He suddenly brightened. “I saw Paul Blart: Mall Cop with Kevin James,” Caleb said conversationally as he reached inside his jacket for his wallet. “Delightful movie. Very funny. Not an Oscar-caliber film, of course, but quite crowd-pleasing.”
The guard did not look pleased by this at all. “Blart was a moron. I’m not a moron. I served twenty-five years with the metro police.”
Caleb looked horrified. “No, of course not. I didn’t mean to suggest—”
His phone vibrated. As he drew out his wallet and handed his ID to the cop he glanced at the screen.
We’re done, coming out. Coast clear?
Caleb looked up at the cop, who was studying his ID, then quickly thumbed his response. One minute and then hit it.
“Sir,” said the cop. “I’d like you to come—”
Before he could finish, Caleb started holding his chest and gasping for breath.
“I-I-I think I’m having a pa-pa-panic attack. Ca-can’t ca—catch my breath.”
He started to collapse. The cop caught him and supported him. “Just hold on, sir. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”
Caleb pointed to the elevator bank. “Fr-fresh air. Need—outside…quick.”
“Okay. Okay. I’m going to call an ambulance too.”
Caleb drew a painful, shuddering breath. “Out-out…side. Hurry.”
The guard helped Caleb to the elevator and inside. The doors closed behind them and the car started down.
Five seconds later Harry and Reuben appeared in the main hall. Under Harry’s arm was a set of building plans.
“Where’s Caleb?” asked Harry.
“Probably gone off to a bookstore,” grumbled Reuben. “If there’re any left in this place. Come on, we’re running out of time.”
*