Christmas at Timberwoods - Fern Michaels [70]
“Yeah. My wife hates having me work on Sunday, but I could use the overtime. Christ, did you ever see so much snow? We’re in for a hell of a winter, I can tell you right now.”
“Yeah,” his partner agreed. “We should get hazard pay on top of overtime. Already the snow is covering everything. I almost broke my neck!”
“I know what you mean. I was going to check that equipment over there when I tripped. Thought I was gonna go over.”
“Did you check it out?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s all right. At first I didn’t know what it was, but then I scooped the snow away. It must be a CO2 tank or something. Anyway, it says ‘Emergency Extinguisher.’ ”
“C’mon. We’ve been out here long enough. Call the other guys in—there’s nothing up here.”
Charlie Roman backed the car out onto the snow-filled road and slipped it into gear. He couldn’t explain this compulsion he felt to drive past the mall. Last night he had immersed himself once again in the details of detonating the bomb. He’d drawn in the margins of his scrawled notes on the subject once he’d made sure it was still going to work, doodles of black clouds and jagged lines, page after page of mayhem. For something to do, it beat Sudoku and old movies, now that Angela was gone.
His plan was sound, but there was no way he could see if the propane setup on the mall roof was still there. If marked and unmarked police cars were around, along with a million minivans and SUVs in every slot, then it was safe to assume that it was. If they’d figured out what he had planned, then the parking lot would be empty and the information would have been on the news.
Overall his luck was still holding, he thought wryly. It was good luck for a bad guy. Him. After all, the bomb squad would have come in as soon as the mall closed last night. If they hadn’t found it by now, most likely they weren’t going to.
His resolve had gotten stronger. He didn’t care anymore about anything. Let the place blow sky-high.
One last detail nagged at him. When he got to the mall, would the maintenance crew be out in the parking lot? It was a good thing he hadn’t answered the phone when it rang. He’d guessed it would be the chief wanting him to come in to help clear the snow, make everything nice and easy for all those shoppers who came to the mall with money to spend. Well, how about making life easy for him, Charlie Roman?
He stopped for a red light and decided to drive past the mall rather than go into the lot. You never knew who would be watching, and if one of the men from maintenance spotted him, it wouldn’t be good. He craned his neck to peer through the swirling snow and was satisfied to see shoppers’ vehicles peppered throughout the parking lot. He let out a deep sigh and headed for a U-turn. He could go back home and wait. It wouldn’t be long now.
It was eight in the evening when Lex and Heather entered the mall. They had decided it would be best for all concerned if they kept their romantic relationship a secret, at least until after the crisis was behind them. Harold and Eric were waiting for them in Richards’s office.
Richards was leaning back in his swivel chair, a triumphant look on his face. “The bomb squad has given the mall a clean bill of health. I knew they would, but we have to go through these . . . channels. We open the doors tomorrow morning on schedule for the final stampede.”
“All that is fine, Richards,” Eric said coolly, “but what about the other matter we discussed? What are we going to do about that? There’ve been a few new developments since we last talked to you.”
“I told you, we aren’t closing. So whatever you have up your sleeve, forget it. The mall stays open. What is it with you, Summers? Do you have some kind of personal ax to grind? You have a one-track mind.”
“You’re deliberately closing your mind to anything I say about the Steinhart kid, and you know it. Why can’t you listen and make a decision? I called the chief of police to meet us here. I want to know I did everything I could, and Lassiter and Baumgarten are with me on that. You’re sitting alone,