Tempestuous Read online

  “Dude, come quick,” he said, panting as he beckoned Chad into the mall’s thoroughfare. “Somebody just went all Butch Cassidy on the computer store! Shit is going DOWN out here!”

  Chad hurried off with his coworker, leaving me to follow. Instead, I picked up the phone at the register to dial mall security, but the line was dead. Crap, the snow must have downed a phone line. A robbery?! Jeez, there were plenty of crimes of fashion around this joint, but in terms of real misconduct, minor graffiti and parking infractions were the worst offenses Grady ever had to deal with. No wonder he was burning rubber a few minutes ago when I literally ran into him. He must have just heard about the robbery … or was he chasing down the perps? In any case, my ice cream cake errand boy clearly had more pressing business. I’d have to hurry to the other side of the mall to pick it up before Just Desserts closed for the night. But first, I wanted to see what the commotion was all about. I stooped back under the gate of the Cleat Locker and turned left down the mall’s main drag. Two hundred yards away in front of PC Pro, a crowd of mall employees had already gathered.

  “What happened?” I asked breathlessly once I’d woven my way over to Chad and his equally brawny (though shorter) coworker, whose nametag identified him as “Dex.” Standing head-and-shoulders above the crowd, Chad answered absentmindedly as his eyes scanned the surroundings, seemingly looking for someone or something.

  “Someone ripped off the place. They got away with a couple of laptops, a bunch of tablets, and pretty much all the MP3 players. Smashed the display cases to get to them.”

  My palm instinctively went to my mouth.

  “Was anyone hurt?” I asked.

  “No one was there,” Dex said. “Luckily the manager had locked up early and sent the employees home before the roads got impassable.”

  “The gate was down, then.” I tried to piece together the details. “So whoever did it got in through the back corridor?”

  “It would seem that way; no one else working down here saw anything amiss.”

  I felt a tap on my shoulder and swiveled around to see Colin, still wearing his clown getup.

  “Word travels fast,” he said, inching forward in the crowd of onlookers to try and get a better look. “Who do they think did it?”

  “You got me,” I said, displaying my palms.

  “Where’s that dweeby security guard, anyway? Didn’t anybody call the cops?”

  “On a night like tonight, I’m sure the police force is spread pretty thin,” Dex said.

  “And the landlines might be out,” I said. “I couldn’t get a dial tone on the phone just now.”

  I craned my neck to see into the computer store. Display shelves were broken and scattered about the floor, apparently toppled by the criminal in his haste. It occurred to me that Grady had his work cut out for him—though he’d probably relish his moment playing in the security world’s equivalent of the “big leagues” for a change.

  “Only a moron would try to make a break for it with the weather what it is right now,” said Chad’s coworker, “but whoever it was, it looks like he means business.”

  “If we’re locked in, that means the thief is stuck here, too,” Colin pointed out.

  “What do you mean ‘locked in?’” I asked.

  “You haven’t heard?”

  “Heard what?” Dex, Chad, and I asked simultaneously.

  “The citywide curfew. We’re not allowed to leave. Grady stopped by Cheeze Monkey about an hour ago and told us the mall was in lockdown until morning. Direct orders from the bigwigs at corporate. They’re afraid they’ll get sued if someone runs their car off the road leaving work, so we’ve got to wait till the snowplows make their initial rounds.”

  “But how long will that take?” Chad said, glancing at his watch in dismay.

  “Sunrise, if we’re lucky. Dude,” Dex elbowed Chad, “so much for your big night. Looks like you just got upstaged by a snowstorm.”

  “I’ve got to go call Caleb,” Chad said. “He’s going to blow a gasket.”

  “But they can’t just keep us here against our will!” I turned back to Colin, starting to fume.

  “True in theory. You could sweet-talk Grady into unlocking the doors for you, I suppose. But your car is buried past its tires in snow right now. You want to try walking home? Because that’s suicide by snowbank.”

  “So we’re literally marooned here for the night? With some shoplifter on steroids?” I sighed. “I’d better get back and let Ariel and the gang know what’s up.” My tone may have suggested concern for my defenseless coworkers, but in reality, I was semi-thrilled at the opportunity to relate the dramatic turn of events to a captive audience. I took off for the food court.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Come, Temperate Nymphs, and Help to Celebrate

  “But I’m sure if the burglar is even the least bit competent, he’ll have had more than one exit strategy,” I said to Alfredo, who had joined us from upstairs and was listening to my update along with my fellow food courtesans. “He’s probably long gone by now.” I hoped I sounded a lot more confident than I felt.

  Ariel looked unconvinced, so I changed the subject. “Since we’re trapped in this hell hole for the night, we might as well have some fun.” I stood up from my chair and clapped my hands. “Troy, you’re in charge of music. Turn off this Muzak crap and put on something we can dance to. And make it loud,” I called after him as he rushed off. Ignoring Ariel’s worried frown, I steered her back toward the Hot-Dog Kabob booth and shot a look at Alfredo to usher her the rest of the way.

  “What’s going on?” my coworker said, unaware that she was about to get one of Alfredo’s Five-Minute Makeover treatments.

  “I promise it won’t hurt,” Alfredo said. “Well, not unless tweezers are required.”

  With Ariel out of earshot, I turned to Fro-Yo’s Derek, who looked at me expectantly.

  “Take the Sloth Rocket,” I said, using our name for the vehicle that the decrepit janitorial director Simpson used to get from one end of the mall to the other. “Head over to Just Desserts, pick up Ariel’s cake, and get back here as quickly as you can.” I glanced at the clock adding, “Our guests should be arriving any minute now, and Alfredo can’t keep Ariel occupied for too long.”

  I was standing on a chair hanging “streamers,” a.k.a. spools of receipt paper, from pillar to pillar when Caleb and Chad showed up. Funny those two being friends. Ballhead and the Beast.

  “Chad! Glad you could make it!” I smiled, figuring he might be the best present I could give Ariel. “And if it isn’t Mr. Got Games himself … I thought you were too coool for our little party.”

  “I never said that,” Caleb said, with a moody glare. “Figured since we’re stuck here for the night, I might as well come.”

  “I’m sure Ariel will appreciate the colossal sacrifice.”

  Chad shuffled from one foot to the other, eying Caleb and me uncomfortably. I’m sure he wondered at the obvious friction, but I figured I’d let Caleb enlighten him.

  Just then Grady came galumphing into the food court, practically hyperventilating. He paused to catch his breath, coming precariously close to smashing the pink ice cream cake box gripped in his hands.

  “Sorry I’m late!” he said, gasping for air. “Dinah was still frosting the cake when I got there. I made it over here as quick as I could.”

  I glanced at my watch—it was 9:08.

  “Grady! Jeez, I hardly expected you to pick up the cake with everything else you’ve had to deal with tonight!” The guard stared at me confused. “Hello? The lockdown? The wayward computer thief?”

  “Oh right,” Grady said. “Well, no need to worry yourself about all that.”

  “You mean you caught the guy?” Chad asked. Clearly still winded from his sprint across the mall with a ten-pound cake, Grady looked flustered.

  “Afraid I can’t speak to an investigation that’s still pending,” he said. “But I didn’t want to let you and Ariel down, Miranda.” H
e nodded toward the cake which, as I removed the plastic cover, I could see didn’t survive the trip fully intact. The icing was smeared and the melting ice cream underneath was starting to leak onto the tray.

  “Looks like it says ‘Happy Birthday, Awol,’” Caleb said. I shot him a dirty look. Could this dude be any more pessimistic?

  “Ariel will be too excited to even notice the difference,” I said. “Grady, did I ever tell you you’re my hero? Thanks so much! Too bad you probably can’t stick around for the party, with all the chaos around here….”

  Grady’s face, at first beaming from my praise, flashed to disappointment.

  “Thanks for the offer, Miranda, but not when I’m on duty.” I heard someone behind me just about snort with laughter. Grady’s police playacting was admittedly ridiculous, but part of me felt a little sorry for him. I got the sense that he was just a very lonely man trying to feel important in the world. Sadly, I could relate. He was about to head back out into the mall when I called him back.

  “If you have time later, feel free to come back down and have some cake. By the way, you don’t think we’re in any danger, right? I mean, with the burglary and all?”

  “Don’t worry, Miranda. If the perp’s still onsite, they’ll have to deal with me.” Somehow, this didn’t have the comforting effect I’m sure he intended. “In the meantime—”

  “Hey, Grady,” Troy said, “why don’t you deputize us? We can help you go Die Hard on the dude.” He and a few of the guys whistled and gave each other high-fives.

  “Listen, this isn’t a joke,” Grady said, terse warning in his voice. “I’m going to issue a strong proviso that you all stick together and stay in the food court. The last thing I need is a bunch of rogue mall employees interfering with a criminal investigation.”

  Troy gave a comically demonstrative military salute as Grady stomped off. When he was out of earshot, Caleb turned to Troy and said, “Die Hard, huh? With what, your bare hands, hotshot?”

  As the guys tried to one-up one another with a lame display of martial arts moves, I bustled around putting the finishing touches on the surprise party. With the pressure on to save Ariel’s birthday from a night of abysmal boredom, a half-melted cake and some flimsy decorations just weren’t going to cut it. I’d have to come up with something bigger and better to distract her if we were going to survive the lockdown. Apparently Chad and I were on the same wavelength. As I retrieved a box of candles from my pocket, he sidled over.

  “So, Miss Cruise Director, given any thought to what we’re going to do after this? It’s pretty clear even to me, a quote unquote ‘lug nut’—”

  “How did you…? Caleb told you!” I started to turn toward Caleb to bawl him out, but Chad stopped me. My face flushed with embarrassment, an emotion I was getting more and more acquainted with in recent days. “Well, now I feel stupid.”

  “Hey, it’s no big deal,” he said with a chuckle. “No hard feelings.” He held out his hand to shake mine. “Just don’t be so quick to judge the next guy. Anyway,” he said, “I was thinking that if we’re going to be in here all night….” he trailed off as he gazed at something over my shoulder. I turned around to see Alfredo, leading a reluctant Ariel by the hand.

  “Voila!” he said as he whirled her in front of him with a dramatic flourish. Admittedly, even I was surprised at how great she looked. She’d always been cute in a Keebler Elf kind of way, but now her best features really stood out. Her kinky hair was pinned up with just a few rivulets caressing her face. Light pink lip gloss and some subtle glitter shadow around her eyes—boy, Alfredo really knew his subject—completed Ariel’s transformation. She went from looking like my surrogate kid sister to becoming one of those ethereal fairies from The Lord of the Rings. If Chad’s face was pink, Ariel’s was red and getting redder by the second. Thankfully, just as it was clear that she was about to bolt back into the kitchen in embarrassment at all the fuss, someone started singing “Happy Birthday” and we all joined in.

  “Blow out the candles,” I said to Ariel. “And don’t forget to make a wish.”

  “Okay, I wish—”

  “Don’t tell us!”

  “Let me guess,” a cutting voice said from behind my shoulder. “She wishes she had a chance in hell of ever getting laid in her lifetime.” Ariel’s pink cheeks paled. What the..?! I swiveled on my heel and put a face to the voice I already recognized.

  “I don’t remember inviting you, Brian,” I said, steam practically escaping my ears. I nodded toward the Itneys, who stood behind Rachel looking smugly satisfied with arms crossed. Britney blew a bubble with her wad of chewing gum and let it smack loudly. “That goes double for your hangers-on,” I continued. “And, really, for a guy so incredibly vocal about what an insult I am to humanity, you have an uncanny way of pseudo-stalking me. Now, please leave. All of you.”

  “Gladly,” Rachel answered for the group, tossing her tacky blonde extensions over one shoulder in defiance. “We’re not interested in your little charity case’s birthday party, I can assure you. But since our shopping excursion morphed into getting stuck here for the night, we just thought we’d come see what all the bottom-feeders were up to.”

  There was silence as the food courtesans all waited for me to respond. Once again, I felt my eyes sting and willed them not to pool up with tears. Wracking my brain for some clever retort, I found I was too enraged to speak. It was one thing for them to pick on me. I deserved it in some messed-up way. But Ariel and the rest of the geeks who worked down here were innocent and undeserving of their cruel scorn. How was it possible that I was ever friends with these arrogant SOBs? I shuddered, remembering the similar crown of condescension I wore back when I stood perched on a higher rung of the social stratum. Looking at the Itneys with their matching boots and Rachel with her pricey leather satchel—all three with scowls on their faces—was like having a mirror held up in front of me. Had I been such a bitch like them? Was I still? While these thoughts raced through my brain, the unlikeliest of allies entered the fray to give me a reprieve.

  “Why are you guys down here, anyway?” Caleb said. “Didn’t you hear that the Highway Patrol is sending a helicopter to the south parking lot to start taking people out of here in small groups? You’re going to be at the back of the queue if you don’t get over there.”

  Whitney’s eyes lit up, but then she eyed Caleb suspiciously, apparently on to his whopper of a lie.

  “So why aren’t you guys heading over there?”

  “What, you think any of us have anything better to do on a Saturday night? This is the most excitement we’ve had in years! We’re staying put. But you’d better hurry. I heard they’re only making a limited number of chopper runs for people who can plead emergency cases.”

  “Really?” Britney said.

  “Where do you think all your other classmates are right now? They’ve probably already called dibs.”

  “Maybe we can still make the ski trip tomorrow!” Britney turned to Rachel and Brian excitedly. The other three still looked skeptical, but the look on Brian’s face meant he wasn’t about to call Caleb’s bluff if there really might be a chance to get out of here.

  “Ladies, let’s leave the plebes to their lame little party,” he said. As they headed in the direction of the mall’s south exit, the snickers and scoffs of Brian, Rachel, and the Itneys echoed through the food court.

  “That’s it,” I said. “I’m not going to take this anymore.”

  “They’re gone now. It’s over; let’s just enjoy the party,” Caleb said.

  “This may just seem like a tempest in a teapot to you, but it’s about a lot more than the party—even though I did spend all day planning this.” I gritted my teeth. “That’s beside the point. They can mess with me, but I will absolutely not allow them to mess with Ariel.”

  “Do you really mean that?” Ariel asked. Her eyes lit up, briefly, but I could tell from her face that she was still feeling stung by Rachel’s comments.

  “Of
course, Ariel,” I said, not quite realizing till this moment how much I cared about her. “And don’t you worry. We’ve got all night to make them pay. But for right now, let’s just enjoy your party. You only turn seventeen once, after all!”

  Ariel was back to her chipper self an hour later after opening a slew of presents, including a travel chess set from Caleb.

  “This is my kind of game,” he said. “Keep it around for when you get bored with video games—and, believe me, you will. Chess challenges you like nothing else. Kings and queens have been playing it for centuries.”

  While she was oohing and ahhing over her haul, Caleb sidled up to me.

  “Thanks,” I said, blushing.

  “For what?”

  “Getting rid of those jerks earlier. They almost ruined Ariel’s night, but we showed them….”

  “Whoa, whoa, easy with the ‘we’ stuff. I don’t know those guys and I don’t care to know them. Whatever your beef is with them, and vice versa, just leave me out of it.”

  I didn’t understand his sudden gruffness. Hadn’t he seen the way Rachel had just slammed Ariel? Hadn’t he come to her rescue? Why was he being so hostile again?

  Before I could argue my point further, Derek from Fro-Yo-Yo and Colin, his clown makeup smeared with perspiration, came running into the food court.

  “They’ve taken over Worthington’s Drug Store, Teasers, and Camperville,” Derek said, gasping for breath. “They won’t let anyone in.”

  “They said that it’s first come, first served,” Colin said.

  “No, they said finders keepers.”

  “Whatever. They took over the department store with all the best stuff in it and the one store that had sleeping bags and survival gear!” Derek said, nearly shouting.