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My mouth was hanging open. I was shocked by Christos’s change of tone. When I glanced over his shoulder, I spotted Jason and a few other security staff I didn’t recognise coming our way. Christos stared me down, then subtly nodded.
I took off, back the way I’d come, keeping clear of the spritzer chicks who were still dancing in formation. People were clapping and cheering, as one girl led the others in a dance with swooping hand movements and a kind of hip-hop grind.
I clacked across the marble floor in my high heels, rounding the counter and stopping near the cash register as another ear-splitting noise vibrated through the PA system. With my hands pressed firmly to my ears, the same as everyone else, I looked back for Christos. I couldn’t see him or the rest of the security team.
Did Christos think the security team were untrustworthy? It was a possibility. I kept my ears covered even as the sound died down and the song switched to All I Want for Christmas Is You. Mariah Carey’s voice rang out and the dancers changed to an upbeat routine.
But then... I stopped dead. Let my hands drop to my sides. Now I’d seen it, it was obvious. They were trying to distract people. The gorgeous and gigantic cut-crystal display perfume bottle was gone. Vanished. Poof! When had I last seen it? Not that morning, not that I could recall.
An empty white pedestal stood in the area near the escalators. How could anyone take something so enormous without being noticed?
I didn’t have to wait long for an answer as I scanned the floor. A team of what appeared to be visual merchandising staff was moving through the fashion department, pulling something on an industrial-sized trolley. The thing was draped in a black cloth. It could have been stock, maybe furniture or fixtures. They needed to get ready for the Boxing Day sale starting in two days. But I knew something was off.
A gang of people, probably not real staff, was absconding with the super-expensive and collectable perfume bottle while everyone was oblivious. And they were headed for the main storeroom.
I couldn’t let it go. I had to report it to Christos. He was the only one who’d know what to do. I took off again, pausing only to wave at a couple of staff who shot me questioning looks. I mimed fanning my face, pretending to be too hot. No one would have a problem with me leaving the floor for a minute for a drink of water.
I kept on the tail of the gang of people dressed in black. Sure enough, one of them scanned a staff card and unlocked the storeroom. The group wheeled the trolley through the double doors and out of view. I stopped and twirled around, checking in all directions, but there was no Christos.
There was nothing else for it. I’d have to follow the sneaky gang. As I approached the storeroom, trying to walk at a normal pace, I spotted two more people clad in black, carrying arm loads of Christmas gifts. The same type of fake presents we’d had on display through the department. They too entered the storeroom with the beep of a staff card. I was a few metres away, negotiating my way through racks of suits and shirts.
At the door, I grabbed my staff card and scanned it. I was probably being watched on the security cameras and tracked by my ID. But tracked by who? I hoped it was Christos, but I had my doubts. Who was in charge around here? I clicked open the door, sliding inside.
Everything looked normal at first glance. I took tiny steps, keeping close to the wall separating the storeroom from the sales floor. The muffled sound of music was playing through the concrete. This space was like a bunker. Traces of shivers, invisible fingers, ran down my spine. I shouldn’t have come in here by myself. If I had to run, my only way out was behind me. I turned to backtrack when a shaft of sunlight fell across the floor.
Someone had opened the garage doors leading out the back of the store. The loading area wasn’t accessible to everyone, not even me. But it was open now. I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew I should run, but I couldn’t leave.
Blinking my eyes open, I crept past rows of shelving stacked with cosmetics products. Muffled voices came from the direction of the loading bay. It was too hard to hear distinct words but there were several men. I slid off my heels and left them by the wall. My footfalls with bare feet were quieter. I could also run faster if necessary.
Popping my head from behind a metal shelving unit, I got a view of the open garage doors. A truck had backed up there. Several men loaded piles of gift boxes into the back and the gigantic trolley sat to one side.
I sneaked back behind the shelving. My heart thumped so hard I thought I’d break a rib. I pressed one hand to my chest.
A thud from behind me had me spinning round to face the largest man I’d ever seen in my life. I looked up, and up, his tree-trunk of a neck leading to a face defined by a flat nose and shaved head.
He stared me down as though I were something he’d scrape off the bottom of his shoe. “What have we here?” He grabbed my arm before I respond.
“I’m getting some perfume, heading back to the floor...”
He yanked me towards him. “Like hell you are.”
Something silvery glinted in his hand and for a heartbeat I thought it was a gun. Thank goodness it was just handcuffs. Only he snapped one cuff shut around my wrist and my thoughts raced in terrible circles. If he wanted to hurt me, I couldn’t get away. A bent Christmas tree with a metal frame had been left in the corner.
The man shoved me to the ground, I thudded onto my bottom, and struggled to get up. But I didn’t have any choice once he kneeled on my leg and pulled on my arm, twisting it behind me. The bruising pressure made me gasp, air leaving my body in a gush. The snap of the other cuff set-off full-blown panic inside me. He’d cuffed me to the metal pole of the Christmas tree. I tugged and twisted, trying to get free. All I did was hurt my wrist.
The thug huffed smoke-tinged breath over me. Yuck. “That should hold you for a while. Merry Christmas, Mrs Claus.” He raised himself to standing and took off, footsteps echoing as he headed towards the truck outside.
The dull rumble of the truck’s engine was the soundtrack in the room now. The scent of exhaust fumes acrid, burning my nostrils. With another tug at the handcuffs, I tried to get loose from the bloody tree, or to break it. It was stronger than it seemed, weighted by a heavy stand. Pulling it along behind me wasn’t an option.
I sighed and sank back against the trunk, fake pine needles poking into me. At least the store was still open. Someone had to find me soon. If not Christos, someone.
––––––––
“HELLO?” I SHOUTED INTO the void for approximately the seventy-thousandth time. There had to be someone around. Anyone? Could they come soon?
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Of course it seemed endless, since there was nothing to do but stare at the rows of stock on metal shelving, some items in boxes, some loose. In my head, I developed a much-improved storage and cataloguing system I’d implement if I ever got a chance. At this rate, it wasn’t likely.
A thunderous crash rang out like a tractor ploughing into a wall. It came from near the door where I’d entered the storeroom. Another bang, then light flooded inside followed by the thud of footsteps. I stayed immobile, waiting for a sign. Was it friend or foe?
“Lily? Are you in here?”
It was Christos, without a doubt.
I sat up straighter. “Here! By the Christmas tree.”
He skidded around a corner, then he was there. By my side. He scanned my body quickly, assessing me with a glance. “I’m so sorry I got you dragged into this.” Crouching down, he checked my leg, running his palm over my shin. It smarted.
“I’m handcuffed.” I rattled my chains, feeling like a convict.
He tipped his head to the side. “Shit. I don’t have a key, or tools. Hold tight, I’ll be back for you soon.”
I gaped at him, as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. He was up and walking away in a split second.
With a rising panic, I begged, “Don’t leave me here! If you wanted me handcuffed you only had to ask!”
He snorted as he walked out and the door slammed shut again. So glad he was amused.
Lucky (for Christos) it was only a couple of minutes later when he returned. I’d been planning to do him bodily harm until I spotted the toolbox he carried. When a police officer in uniform followed him into the storeroom, talking on a walkie-talkie, I was doubly relieved.
I kept my eyes on Christos’s face. “Does this mean you caught the thieves? I saw them, loading stuff into the truck. Empty gift boxes and the giant perfume bottle.” I was rambling, but I didn’t care.
Christos searched the toolbox and pulled out a small and lethal-looking pointy thing. He twisted it into the lock on the handcuffs. He nodded as he worked. “It’s all over. We got the guys and the truck—we were waiting for them at the end of the driveway. And those boxes weren’t empty. They’ve been transferring cash out of the upstairs safe into gift boxes for weeks, then they moved the boxes into the storeroom. Just waiting for a pick up on Christmas Eve.”
“Wowsers. Organised crime for sure. Who was the ringleader?”
Two more police officers entered the storeroom and Christos glanced over his shoulder. “I can’t talk about it yet.” He shot me the same look from earlier. Asking me without words to trust him.
He jiggled the tool in the lock and with a final click, I was free.
“Thanks.” I wriggled as he rubbed my sore wrist, and not just because my hand had gone numb. When he was near, I couldn’t help getting my wiggle on.
He helped me to my feet, brushed my hair back from my shoulders and offered me his arm. “Let’s get you home.”
We’d made it out of the storeroom/prison when the nearby elevator opened. Two more uniformed cops were ‘escorting’ a man in handcuffs out of the doors. A man I recognised, though I didn’t know him well.
I called out to him. “Mr Harrison?”
He looked up at the sound of his name, and frowned as though trying to work out if he knew me. The cops urged him forward, then he was gone.
I whispered to Christos, who ushered me towards the staff exit. “The store manager was the ringleader? But his family own the store. Why?”
Christos shrugged. “Would it be too simple to say he fell in with the wrong crowd? He owed them a lot of money and they demanded it back, with interest. And he wanted to impress his lady-friend.”
Please don’t say Giselle. I’d suspected she liked the store manager. Probably more like she had a massive crush. I had to know. “Who was the woman?”
“Oh, the movie star. Veronica Versuvius. Can’t say I like her much. Classic over-actor. She wanted the giant crystal perfume bottle and demanded he get it for her.”
My mouth popped open. I couldn’t think what to say. The whole adventure was like a Bond movie, one of the good ones from the 80s. The only thing missing was a villain with an eye patch and a tank full of sharks. I decided we’d better go while the going was good.
And I couldn’t wait to get my undercover agent home and show him how much I appreciated him.
I whispered, “Will you take me home?”
“Absolutely. Got to make sure you’re home in time for Christmas.”