Page 11 of The New Year's Party
Will heard the commotion before he got there.
“You better move! Or I’ll usethis!” said a rough voice.
He does have a gun, after all, thought Will.
“Back!” he shouted, shoving Anna behind a shelf as he exploded onto the scene, taking in the big middle-aged man with the bike who was digging in his pocket, whipping out—
A Swiss Army knife. The tiny kind that goes on a key chain.
The man’s face was red under his beard. Big sweat marks under his arms. Breathing heavy. High as a kite. Okay.
“Let the man leave with his bike!” Will boomed toward security, who was looking uncertain. They were in bulletproof vests. It was unlikely a Swiss Army knife could do much damage. But this was Will’s store, and he wouldn’t let anyone take that risk for a bicycle. However, he also couldn’t allowsomeone to walk away with merchandise like this. The store’s reputation was at stake.
The man spun to face Will, as if to verify he really was going to let him walk away.
“Or,” said Will quickly, with a friendly grin, “I can purchase this bike for you, as a late Christmas present, and you can leave here without having stolen anything.”
The man looked at Will like he was speaking a foreign language.
“There are security cameras,” Will said kindly. Patiently. “You’re being recorded right now. So instead of leaving with this very expensive bike and waiting for the police to arrest you, you could walk over to this register right here and let me buy you the bike. Then, I promise, you will be allowed to exit the store with your purchase.”
The man looked between Will and the door. Then back at Will.
Will was aware of a whole crowd of customers watching. He caught the flash of a phone and knew it wasn’t just the security cameras recording this moment.
“Hurry,” the man said gruffly.
“Right this way.” Will felt totally calm, totally in control as he led the man to the nearest cash register, where a new employee was working. Will himself had interviewed her. What was her name...? That’s right. Elaine.
“Hi, Elaine,” said Will amiably as he leaned on the checkout counter, using his most calm, reassuring tones. “Could you please ring up this man’s purchase? We’ll be paying with a card today.”
“O-o-okay, Mr. Bernanke,” she stammered. With a shaking hand, she lifted her scanning gun and leaned over the counter to scan the bike. “That’ll be one thousand thirty-four dollars and twenty cents.”
Will handed over his personal credit card. He was pretty sure he could get reimbursed, but that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was buying time for the police to arrive. She rang it up. All the while, the man didn’t speak, but Will could smell him. Body odor—pungent—and alcohol. In addition to what he guessed to be a cocaine high.
“Would you like y-your—your—” said Elaine.
“Receipt?” said Will, neatly whipping the receipt out of the machine. “Yes, please. Sir, here’s your receipt, and enjoy your purchase! Have a wonderful holiday.”
The man stuffed the receipt in his pocket, mumbled something, and rolled the bike back toward the door. Will gestured frantically at security to stand down, to let him pass. By the time he was in the parking lot, Will was conferring with Michael, his head of security, who had been on the phone with 9–1–1 the entire time. Will pulled out his pocket tablet and quickly navigated to the parking lot video feed. He spoke into Michael’s phone.
“He’s loading the bike into the bed of a black Ford Ranger,” Will told the police. “Can’t see the license plate from here, but I’ll pull some still images that we can expand.” He looked at Michael and said in a low voice, “You got it from here?” Will had a whole crowd of onlooking customers to attend to.
“Got it, boss.”
Will turned to the crowd. People with shopping carts, people with cell phones out. Groups of young people. Families. One little girl holding a soccer ball.
He projected his voice. “I’m extremely sorry about that scare, ladies and gentlemen. The police will be on the scene shortly. Please remain in the store for the time being, until the situation in the parking lot is resolved. In the meantime, feel free to finish your shopping. We’ll go ahead and issue a twenty percent courtesy discount to any who’d still like tomake their purchases today. Thank you, and let’s look out for each other, okay? Let’s have a safe and happy New Year.”
He wasn’t expecting the applause, but accepted it graciously, pressed a few hands, checked in with the little girl and told her the soccer ball was hers for free before retreating to his office.
“Gah!” he shouted as he realized there were people in his office. His wife, behind his desk, using his computer. His three daughters, all having a cookie snack, crumbs scattered over his desk and the pile of invoices he’d been reviewing. “Jenn! Girls! Wow, you scared Daddy! Where did you—when—”
It hit him like a slap that if they’d come in the main entrance, they might have walked straight into a standoff with an armed individual, the size of his blade notwithstanding.Thank you, Jesus, he thought.
“We came in the office entrance,” said Jenn. She was holding a tissue to her nose with one hand. Will didn’t question it—she got nosebleeds, especially in the dry weather. Unchecked, they produced truly astounding amounts of blood. “The girls just wanted to bring you some of the cookies we baked!”
“Wow, thank you, girls,” said Will, kissing the tops of each of their three heads—Mackenzie, Tessa, and Vivi. They smelled like Johnson & Johnson shampoo. “These cookies look incredible! Are you sureyougirls decorated these?”
