Authors: L.A. Kelley
Her face lit up. “Really well—better than that, actually. I only ran a few tests, but I think the system will be a great checks and balances method if corporate signs off. Stephanie will brief them at the next board meeting.”
Rosalie snorted in disgust. “You know she’ll take credit for the idea.”
“Frankly, I don’t care. Penrose’s will save lots of money. No one else’s position will be cut. Maybe we can hire back the laid-off staff.”
“You’re not worried about your job, are you? Penrose’s would fall apart without you. Seriously, you run the place. Stephanie doesn’t know what the hell is going on.”
“It’s not that.” A shadow crossed her friend’s face.
Rosalie reached over and squeezed her hand. “Alex?”
“Stephanie switched us to a cheaper health plan. His new medicine is expensive and not covered. Money is tight.”
“Things will get better,” Rosalie assured her with forced optimism. But inside she thought, they sure can’t get much worse
.
****
At 2 a.m. Penrose’s parking lot was deserted except for one lone individual studying the building. David had crisscrossed the neighborhood for hours, pausing every now and then to get his bearings. The tenuous connection always brought him right back here. After an arduous hunt, he was sure. The Book was inside. He stifled a feeling of exultation. Until he grasped The Book in his hands again, any celebration was premature.
The young man pressed his fingertips lightly on the stone façade. How the hell did The Book get to a department store in Florida? He pushed the question aside. He could stand out here all night and still not come up with a logical answer. Nothing mattered as long as The Book returned to the vault.
David fought the temptation to dash-away inside the building. A blind dash-away to someplace he’s never been before could be disastrous without knowing the exact thickness of the wall and what was on the other side. He made a quick decision. Once the door opened in the morning, he would reconnoiter to get a better feel for the place. The pull from The Book was tenuous, but maybe with luck he’d stumble upon the hiding place right away.
If the location wasn’t obvious, he’d do a thorough search after the store closed. Security measures were a given. He dismissed the exterior door alarms. They posed no problem for someone with his teleporting abilities, but the interior might have cameras on at night. First thing tomorrow he’d track down the security office. Once certain of the location within the building, he could dash-away in at night unnoticed, shut down any electronic devices, and have the whole place to himself.
With a plan, David’s spirits lifted. The only sticking point was the size of the building. He glanced upward. Worry furrowed his brow. Four stories was a lot of square footage to cover. He tried again to get a better sense of The Book’s location, but still only generated a hazy awareness the artifact wThee artifas somewhere inside. His inability to zero-in nagged at him, but he could do nothing else until tomorrow.
David zipped up his jacket and jammed his hands into the pockets. Northwest Florida was chilly in autumn after the sun went down. He needed to find a place to catch a few hours sleep. A hotel was out. Hellhounds were on his trail, no point in making the hunt too easy. For a moment, an image of his parents crossed his mind. They must be worried sick. David shoved aside his guilt. Any contact for now was out of the question. No way would he drag them into his mess.
Earlier that day he’d come across a house on the next block with a for sale sign in the yard. A quick peek in the window showed a dwelling devoid of furniture and convinced him the previous owner had left. The location would do nicely for a temporary hideout. David concentrated, holding a picture of the house in his mind, and then cast out a mental line to touch the living room. Within a moment, he forged a path clear enough to dash-away. The pressure increased, squeezing his chest. He let go, dragged in
to darkness. Nothing on the empty pavement remained to mark where the determined young man had stood.
Chapter Three
The instant Rosalie laid eyes on Ross she knew something was horribly wrong. In deep conversation with Marissa, his face was pale, with a pained expression as if overcome by a sudden illness. Marissa looked like she wanted to cry. They parted ways and Ross trudged disconsolately toward Central Receiving.
“What happened?” Rosalie demanded. “Was Ross fired?”
“Worse than that for him. He was reassigned. Ross isn’t Santa anymore.”
Rosalie was stunned. “What! Why?”
“Who the hell knows?” She’d never seen her good-natured friend so angry. “Stephanie called Ross into her office this morning and sent him to Central Receiving to take Anthony’s place. He’s the new Santa.”
Rosalie stared morosely in the direction of Christmas Land. Anthony…of course. Everything was so clear now. Christmas Land sat right next to the administrative offices. Her face twisted in a scowl. “I guess Santa has a new ho, ho, ho…and her name is Stephanie.”
Marissa gave her arm a sympathetic squeeze. “I’m sorry. I know you liked him.”
“Don’t be. We weren’t an item or anything. Ross is the one I’m worried about.”
Marissa sighed. “Me, too. No one saw this coming.”
Rosalie caught up with Ross later in the break room and offered her condolences.
“I can’t believe it,” he moaned. “I only wanted to bring in a pillow.”
“You’re not Santa anymore because of a pillow?”
He nodded bleakly. “Stephanie refused to replace the throne. The seat is so stiff it’s like trying to find a cushy spot on an iron girder. My sciatica acted up something fierce. She overheard me mention to Anthony my plan to bring a pillow from home and stuff the seat for extra padding. The next thing I know she says Anthony is the new Santa—made some lame excuse about a worker’s comp case or some crap.” He shook his head in despair. “I should have kept my mouth shut and popped more aspirin.”
Rosalie offered what consolation she could. “The reason wasn’t you, Ross. Stephanie had her eye on Anthony all along. She only needed a good cover story to move him closer.”
He pushed back from the table with a sigh. “I suppose I should be grateful she didn’t fire me. You know, she cut three more positions from the securit rty office.”
“I heard. We’re down to a couple of part-timers. Why the hell doesn’t Penrose’s simply throw open the doors at night and let the shoplifters come in and help themselves?”
“How much worse will it get?”
“Not much, I hope.”
Ross wrinkled his face in disgust and pitched his coffee cup in the trash. “I used to love working here. I really did.”
So did I, thought Rosalie. She glanced around at all the sullen faces in the break room.
I hear more than good-natured grumbling. What happened to this place? How did the atmosphere change so quickly? Penrose’s is beginning to feel like people with Stephanie’s attitude belong here, but the rest of us don’t.
****
The next day David made a quick circuit of all four floors of the store. He hoped to get a tighter bead on The Book, but to no avail. The sensation was there, prickling at his consciousness like a maddening out-of-reach itch he couldn’t scratch. Why, he fumed, wasn’t the location apparent? He chafed to do a thorough search, but avoided the most crowded areas like Christmas Land, so as not to attract any attention. After all, an Integral’s first rule when dealing with humans was to blend in. He would bide his time until the store emptied.
Although David didn’t find The Book, he did locate the security office. He tailed a girl name Rosalie who manned the first floor customer service counter. She made several trips to a nondescript locked door in the far corner of the first floor. From his position, an older heavy-set man answered. He was the only employee not wearing a nametag. Retail security personnel usually traveled around incognito.
Sadhri would be amused to see what the store considered security. David watched the door all afternoon. The security guard left at two o’clock, but no one took his place. Good news for me, David thought.
Now I only have to only worry about cameras.
At closing time, David waited patiently outside until the last car pulled away. He crossed his fingers the security office was still empty and dashed-away. When his sight cleared, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was the only person inside a room filled with camera monitors.
David’s eyes lit upon a clipboard with Duty Roster printed on the top. Security was worse than he imagined. The store functioned with a skeleton crew. Most of the time the department was unmanned. He found a procedure checklist. They didn’t even review the cameras each morning unless an alarm tripped—and he wasn’t about to do that. He had free run of the store until the first employees arrived tomorrow morning.
With renewed optimism, David planned the search. He’d start with the top floor and work his way down. With any luck, The Book would be back in his hands tonight.
****
Despite comforting words to Ross, Rosalie discovered on her next day off the worst had only started. The weather was dark and gloomy. She curled up on the sofa, listening to the rain patter against the window. She had a long list of things to do, but a comfortable lethargy settled around her.
Run errands?
Requires movement.
Do laundry?
Only if I teleport the dirty clothes to the machines in the basement.
Eat junk food and lie here like a beached whale?
Now you’re talking.
A knock at the door roused her from the sofa. It better not be a salesman, she grumbled to herself.
I’m in a door slamming mood.
To her surprise, Marissa stood on the threshold, mumbling ond, mumbapologies. “I’m sorry to drop in…I just…I couldn’t…” She sniffed as a large tear spilled down her cheek.
Rosalie pulled her inside and shut the door. “Tell me.”
“The holiday bonuses…they’re gone.” She choked back a sob. “I counted on the money to pay off the bills and give Alex a small Christmas, at least. Now there won’t be any at all.”
Rosalie’s stomach knotted. She’d counted on the money, too. “Are you sure? We always get one. I-I didn’t realize sales were so bad.”
Marissa pulled out a tissue from her purse and blew her nose. “That’s just it, they’re not. I saw the numbers. They’re down, but the budget had a little money set aside for bonuses.” Her eyes flashed in anger. “Stephanie ordered me to divert funds to a contract with Sneaky Shoppers.”
Rosalie swallowed back a very descriptive expletive long enough to ask, “What the hell is a Sneaky Shopper?”
“Their employees pose as customers. They wander around and spy on the staff. Stephanie receives a report each time they uncover the slightest infraction of the rules.”
“She used our bonuses to hire a cadre of snitches? Penrose’s doesn’t need spies. The only person who needs to work on customer service skills is the new store manager.” Rosalie punched the sofa cushion. “I’m thinking very bad thoughts right now, Marissa. They involve Stephanie under the wheels of my car.”
Her friend smiled grimly. “You peel out and I’ll push her in front. I know at least a dozen employees who will alibi us.” She drew a shuddering breath. “Once she gave me the news, I had to get out of the store for awhile. You should have seen her—all smiles, convinced the board of directors will be impressed by her initiative to improve employee productivity. Not that the board cares about initiative.” Marissa dabbed at her eyes. “They turned down my new inventory control system. Stephanie said they decided implementation was too expensive.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Rosalie sputtered indignantly. “A ton of money would be saved in the long run.”
“They only care about the next spreadsheet.” Marissa rose to her feet. “I have to get back. My lunch break is nearly over, but I needed a shoulder to cry on.”
Rosalie hugged her. “Anytime.”
Word about Sneaky Shoppers spread through Penrose’s like a grease fire in a trailer. Stephanie didn’t waste any time. By the end of the week phony customers lurked throughout the store reporting lapses in customer service. In turn, Stephanie posted her Motivation Memo in the break room, a daily update of all employees with infractions. Since Sneaky Shoppers’ standards were impossibly high and Stephanie’s criteria ridiculously vague, Rosalie found herself constantly on notice.
The one name never on the list was Anthony Pearce, not that he did a stupendous job as Santa. Out of curiosity Rosalie slipped over to Christmas Land several times to unobtrusively watch him in action. She hoped he’d be so awful customer complaints would force Stephanie to give Ross the throne back.
To her disappointment, Anthony wasn’t terrible. He wasn’t great, either. With the padding, costume, and fake beard, Anthony certainly looked the part. No one would recognize the handsome young man from Central Receiving. He said the right things, too, but lacked Ross’s natural love for the children and boundless enthusiasm. Anthony was nothing but another shopping mall Santa. The kids forgot him as quickly as they finished the complimentary candy canes. Rosalie watched with a pang as Anthony hurried toward Stephanie. Srd Step’s office when his break started. She trudged back to the customer service counter. Dejection dogged her footsteps. Is this what Christmas comes down to? Santa in thrall to a she-demon?
Her mood lifted as Mittens approached the counter. The elderly woman had kept a low profile since the run-in with Stephanie, only occasionally stopping in for coffee with Lu.
“How are you, my dear? You look a little down.” Mittens’ eyes twinkled in amusement. “Lu said you’re at the top of Stephanie’s naughty list again.”
Rosalie’s voice dripped sarcasm. “This morning I was dinged by a Sneaky Shopper for being firmly pleasant with a customer, instead of being pleasantly firm.”
Mittens wrinkled her brow. “What does that mean?”
“I have no clue. It’s one of Stephanie’s idiotic rules. Let me tell you, there’s nothing like being constantly spied upon to really crank up the paranoia. I size up every shopper passing by Customer Service, wondering which one will run squealing to the boss. I smile at everyone like a doper in a pot haze. I look creepy. People eyeball me as if they recognize my face from a wanted poster.”