“Not a coincidence, right?” Bryn said as he and Gunnar walked toward the store.
“Nope. He must have been watching the security feeds and saw us arrive. This isn’t good.”
A small group of onlookers had gathered in the middle of the parking lot. Some speculated on the cause of the alarm, while others stood, phones held up, recording everything. A man in a baseball cap shook his head as he scrolled through his social media feed, muttering, “This’ll be all over the goddam news in ten minutes.”
Gunnar couldn’t see any smoke coming from the building—at least, not yet. A woman in a Walmart vest came past, guiding a cluster of employees to a designated meeting point. “Keep moving, everyone. Gather over there, please.”
Gunnar flashed his badge at her. “Is this a drill, ma’am?”
“No, sir. No drills planned for today.”
“Thanks.” Gunnar placed a quick call to Emmett and asked him to contact the fire service to let them know that all might not be as it seemed. The crowd of evacuated shoppers swelled, spreading across the lot. Those lingering too close to the entrance were nudged along. When the stream of people trickled to a halt, the store’s entrance stood empty. Gunnar showed his badge again outside the doors. “We suspect a crime is in progress. Keep everyone away from the store.”
Inside the store, the fluorescent lights overhead flickered, casting a cold glow over the aisles. Abandoned shopping carts stood all over the place.
“It’s like one of those movies where everyone dies then they all turn into zombies,” Bryn muttered. “I don’t smell smoke, do you?”
“No.”
“It’s creepy as hell in here.”
Gunnar grunted in agreement. Shelves loomed high on either side, creating canyons. “We’ll head to the staff door we went through before.”
“He’s probably watching us.”
They reached the back of the store where the staff door stood open. A faint noise—something between a scrape and a shuffle—came from somewhere ahead.
“Let’s go,” Gunnar said. “Stay behind me.”
Gunnar approached with caution but both the security office and Romano’s office were empty, as were the staff break room, supplies closet and restrooms. There was no sign of anyone. At the end of a corridor there was another door. Gunnar nudged it open with his foot and discovered it led to the store’s warehouse. The lights were off and rows of racking stacked with boxes stretched into the gloom.
Bryn found the torch app on his cell and aimed the beam ahead of them. From somewhere ahead, a metallic clang reverberated through the space. Bryn swung the beam in the direction of the sound as Gunnar drew his weapon.
“We know you’re in here, Romano. Show yourself!” Gunnar shouted. For a moment, there was nothing—just the faint hum of refrigerated stores—then a shadow shifted about halfway down the aisle near a gap in the shelving.
“Don’t move!” Gunnar barked.
Romano stepped into the wavering beam of light. He held a trembling woman, no older than thirty, her face streaked with tears. He had a hunting knife pressed to her throat. She whimpered, clutching at Romano’s restraining arm, her terror evident.
“Don’t come any closer, Detective.”
Gunnar froze. He kept his gun steady. Bryn tried to remember to breathe. “Okay,” Gunnar said, his voice calm, measured. “Let’s talk. Nobody needs to get hurt here.”
Romano laughed. “Don’t give me that crap. She’s the insurance that gets me out of here. You know I’ll slice her throat if I have to.”
“He’s giving me serious evil villain vibes right now,” Bryn muttered.
“Not getting any closer. Setting off the alarm was clever. You saw us arrive, right?”
“It was a bit of luck being in Dave’s office at the right time.”
“Did he help you kill those people?”
“That moron? Of course not. He was so soft he let shoplifters go if they returned the goods they stole. Pathetic. How did you work out it was me?”
“Someone a lot cleverer than me unscrambled your name then connected the dots. Is Romano even your real name?”
“Changed it legally years ago. This ain’t my first rodeo.”
