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Even without being employed at the plant, she’d collected enough data to clearly document unusual activities. But it wasn’t enough—and she didn’t want to fail now.
Given the storm, it was likely that Sanderson would cancel its second shift and send the first shift home early—maybe even close on Saturday, as well.
Reaching for the small radio on the counter, she turned it on to listen for the local business closings.
This might be a perfect opportunity, and she wasn’t going to miss it.
* * * *
JANE SHIVERED into her heavy wool sweater as she buttoned it clear up to her chin.
The old stone office building was always cold in the winter, but now with the other employees gone home early and the wind battering at the windowpanes, just the sound of the storm sent a chill through her veins.
Robert’s secretary was still on sick leave, though, so Jane had offered to type up his new bid proposal as a personal favor. He’d told her to leave with the others, but she’d stayed behind, anyway, and had rechecked every figure to make sure the document was flawless.
When she handed him the folder on Monday, he’d see her total dedication and maybe...well, maybe he’d see her in a different light, as well.
But first she had to survive the walk home. Her car had stalled a block from home this morning and she’d caught a ride with one of the secretaries, but now she was on her own.
Lost in thought, her eyes weary from staring at the pale-blue glow of her monitor, she turned to look out the window.
The shadow of something moving through the blowing snow outside barely registered. She did a double take, then rose from her desk and braced her hands on the cold marble sill to peer outside.
There it was again, a dark figure, but again it disappeared in a gust of snow.
Odd, because the parking lot was empty. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. The plant was closed. Only management had keys to the plant—but in this weather surely they’d be driving.
She turned and crossed her office, stepped out into the dimly lit hallway and unlocked the storeroom across the hall several doors down. At the back wall, a small window looked down on the employee entrance to the plant.
Someone heavily dressed in a hooded parka stood there. In the waning afternoon light and falling snow, it was impossible to tell whether he was one of the managers or someone trying to break in?“
Anyone who broke through that door would be able to come down the hallway in search of money or maybe even the computers.
And there was no one here but her.
The tall shelving units in the room seemed to close in on her. In the dark, shadowed corners, unseen things seemed to watch her as she pivoted away from the window, rushed back to her office and locked the door.
Her heart pounding, she turned off her monitor so its light wouldn’t draw any attention.
Fingers poised over her phone, she debated about calling 911. Maybe there wasn’t an intruder after all.
Would Robert think she was a fool if she called over nothing? What if the guy out there was just Phil coming back to check something? Would he be furious?
With shaking fingers she flipped through the Rolodex by her phone. Dialed Robert’s phone number. Three, four, five rings.
From down the hall she heard a thud. Or was it just the wind outside?
An answering machine kicked on. Taking a steadying breath, she left a brief message. Then she rapidly dialed Ian’s home number. No answer.
Motionless, she closed her eyes and listened for any sounds, her pulse leaping in her throat. There was no way she was going down the hall to check. Only people in horror movies did things like that—and they were the ones too dumb to live past the first scene.
Her knees shaking, she started to dial 911.
* * * *
SARA COULDN’T SEE any lights on through the windows of the factory or offices, though with the blowing snow it was hard to be sure. Still, there were no fresh tire tracks on the way in and no cars left in the lot.
No surprise there, because Sanderson had been listed among the countless early closings of businesses and schools.
