Chapter 2

Walter’s had had a delivery earlier in the day, so everything was extra fresh. He grilled himself a hamburger, added a slice of cheese, then piled on lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and pickles, and helped himself to a soda. Walter’s also stocked beer, but Lync never drank when he was on the job.

Once he’d finished eating, he cleaned up, pulled the doors shut behind him and locked them, and went to the movie theater. He had a couple of hours to kill before he had to make a final check of the mall. Then his job would be done for the night, and he’d go home and clean his own apartment before finally going to bed.

Lync let himself into the theater, which, like all the other buildings, was small, seating twenty-five people at most. Mr. James had decided to make it retro, and he was marketing it as featuring movies from the silent era on up to the films of the sixties and seventies.

Lync turned off his MP3 player and removed the earbuds, letting them dangle around his neck. He took a couple of dollars from his pocket and left them for a box of chocolate-covered raisins, then set a movie into the projector and made himself comfortable in a seat at the back of the theater.

He sighed. It would have been nice to have a date beside him, even if it wasn’t Mr. James, but not many men could tolerate the hours he kept. It had been a long time since he’d had a boyfriend—he thought regretfully of Laurie Parkinson, the last man he’d dated until his job came between them—and almost as long since he’d had any sort of sex except with his hand.

For a second, he let himself think of Adam James, IV, again. The man was so sexy, and he was gay to boot, but he was so far out of Lync’s league it wasn’t funny.

He sighed again, opened the box of chocolate-covered raisins, shook out a handful, and began nibbling them while he fastened his gaze on the screen.

The title cards flashed across the screen: The World, the Flesh, and the Devil. Lync hadn’t seen the 1959 movie in a while, but he’d always been a fan of Harry Belafonte. He slid back in the seat, crossed his feet at the ankle, and settled in to watch the action unfold as the miner Mr. Belafonte played was caught in the collapse of the mine he’d been in while unbeknownst to him, the world above fell apart.2

Shake, rattle, and roll. That was what it felt like, topped off by a boom that almost shattered Lync’s eardrums. The contents of the box of chocolate-covered raisins flew through the air while Lync went skidding off the seat to land hard on his tailbone.

“Ow.” He lurched to his feet and tried to rub the ache from his butt. The screen had gone dark, and only the emergency lights continued to cast a red glow. “Shit. We must have lost power,” he muttered to himself. “Again.”

It was probably a thunderstorm, and a lightning strike must have taken out the power lines, something that had happened before, although not as often since the James family had bought Laurel Hill Mall. Prior to that, Lync had made what repairs he could, but it was a relief Mr. James’d had all the electrical wiring brought up to code.

Lync pressed the knob on his watch that illuminated the dial and read the time. Two a.m.? Geez, he must have fallen asleep. He should have made his last rounds hours ago. Well, he’d take care of it now and write on his time card that he left at his regular time.

He limped down to the mall’s basement and through a door that led to the electrical room. He’d throw the emergency switch and get the power working again.

Only when he did, nothing happened. He’d dealt with situations like this before, and this fell into the power company’s area of expertise. He’d just have to put in a call to Laurel Hill Power and Light. He reached for the phone on the wall and started to dial, only to realize there was no dial tone.

He blew out a breath and hung up, then took out his cell phone and dialed, but once again he got nothing.

Well, shoot. Isn’t this special?

Still, this was his mall, and he had responsibilities. He checked that all the emergency exits were secured before he made his way into the mall proper.

He was startled, however, when he realized he could see through the glass doors that now closed off the entry into the mall. Why wasn’t the metal wall that came down after closing hours to shield those doors not blocking his view?

“Oh, right.” They were set up to automatically raise when they lost power. The company that had installed them had instructed him about it. In a case like this, a long, telescoping pole with a hook at the end would need to be inserted into a loop at the top and manually turned to bring it down again.